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#i love that kind of weather like its so good and lovely but but my body and brain cannot stand it
lady-caden · 8 months
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So It was move in day, and as an RA I had to help and I did so by manually operating the elevator from 7:30am to 5:30pm But I did get gendered correctly literally 100% all today 😎 BUT FUNNI STORY --
So I wore just like a sock as a packer today, cuz that's usually what I do BUT because I kept getting crammed in an elevator, obviously a lot of people around me, and this one girl backed up into me like. fully and she's like. "Oh..oh my God. I'm so sorry" like 😭
I'm so sorry, I'm not happy to see you, that's a sock💀
#rambles#i just found it do funny sjdjdjsj#she got so red and then she had to proceed to just stand within an inch of me because there was no where else to go#i did love even the old dads eere like haha they got the 'little guy manning the elevator'#and how my height actually made me perfect for this job cuz i could fit in the corner and so could cram more ppl#there was this weird instance where it was literally just this old guy and a moving bin#and he like kind of put the bin really close to me at a weird angle. so it like kind of put me against the wall#and I said how you could probably move it so we could both have space but he said nah 'its more fun to pin you down'#and i just stood there like 0_0#i was so uncomfortable 😭 but whatever thabk god that only happened like once#everything was great tho#i enjoy sweltering weather and it was like 103 today and i love directing ppl and manually doing stuff#so this was literally tge perfect job for me#literally all day and afterwards when I was with my other co-workers and my bosses they kept saying heo whneever they say me how epic of#a job i did#and howni was do super efficient and how good i was at directing#god it felt good#i like being in charge ngl#but yeah move in day was a success!#then i had a meeting with my business partner and our workers#then my co whose also just like. my friend. we went out to get dinner together and ahhh#it was so nice. i love them sm when we just like. chill together#today was a good day! plus I started a new skincare routine that if you ask me about prepare because i will never shut up about it
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lovebugism · 6 months
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ok reader x eddie having a casual conversation about sex, talking about what they're both into, leading to some smut??? just hearing what eddie's into sounds so hottttt (i imagine its filthy,, sorry)
ty for requesting! hope you like it!! — a failed date with eddie leads to a night in and several confessions (established relationship, mostly fluff, talks of sex but no actual smut 18+, 1.6k)
fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)
Eddie Munson is a hopeless romantic.
Not because he loves like it’s breathing (though some would argue otherwise), but because his attempts to be affectionate with you are complete and utter failures.
He had a whole romantic day planned. A late lunch, a quick walk, and then sunset at the park. Honestly, it probably would’ve been a pretty metal date if it was any day other than this one — the biggest flood of the whole goddamn year.
You got to the diner just fine but had to rush back to the trailer in the rain since he didn’t have his van. Thankfully, it waited to outright pour until he got you home. Now, his leather jacket — which you’d used as a makeshift umbrella — hangs beside the opened window to dry.
The orange autumn breeze rolls over your bare bodies like silk (because, of course, an innocent shower after getting drenched in the rain couldn’t not end in getting dirty again).
“Was all this just a ploy to get me into bed?” you tease, tracing the freckles on his back with the tip of your finger. “’Cause you coulda just asked, you know? I would’ve said yes.”
Lying flat on his stomach, Eddie laughs into his folded-up arms. His deep brown hair brushes his pale shoulders when he turns to look at you. His smile is swollen and rosy and crooked.
“You got me, princess. Making my girlfriend walk in disgusting weather was all a part of my evil plan.”
“I wouldn’t say it was evil.”
“No?”
“Sinful, maybe. Sexy, even,” you joke with a lopsided grin. “But no, not evil.”
“Is that so?” he lilts as he rises on his elbow to prop his cheek on his fist.
You shake your head and roll onto your back. Your eyes flit to the spotted ceiling. A smirk blossoms on your lips. “I feel like evil would imply that it was hurtful in some way. And that thing you did in the shower felt way too good to be evil.”
“What thing?” the boy wonders with pinched-together brows.
You shoot him a look. “You know…” you hum vaguely, expectantly.
“No. I don’t, actually,” Eddie laughs, mostly at himself. “I’m kinda dumb, in case you forgot.”
“You’re not dumb, Eds.”
“Stop being sweet. You’re deflecting.”
You concede with a small huff. “That… That thing. With your mouth. When you pressed me against the wall and— please, don’t make me describe it, Eddie,” you ramble, then cut yourself off to whine.
He meets your grimace with a boyish grin. “I don’t know. I kinda like hearing you talk about it.”
“I’ll die,” you deadpan.
“You’re so dramatic.”
His words are harsh, but his pink smile is kind. He kisses you with it after — a smacking peck to the corner of your mouth that migrates rather quickly. He sprinkles his lips along your jaw and chin and neck. 
That’s where he lingers. 
Eddie finds your pulse point and goes a half-inch higher, just like he did while he was fucking you against the shower wall. You nearly came the first time he kissed you there. 
He sucks at the delicate skin until he leaves another faint mark. The feeling of his tongue and teeth on your newfound sweet spot makes your toes curl. It has you moaning out loud before you mean to.
His lips audibly smack when he pulls away.
“That thing?” he wonders, smiling down at you like he already knows the answer.
Your thighs clench together. Your bones are made of mush. “That thing,” you repeat in the affirmative.
“Well, if we’re sharing secrets…” Eddie singsongs, then leans in all close like he’s about to spill the latest gossip. His fingers spread out along your bare waist, eyes sparkling with mischief. “I really liked it when you got all mean.”
You hadn’t thought much of it, then — when Eddie edged you on the counter with his fingers and laughed when you writhed. 
You didn’t even let him make it up to you after, just sucked him off and told him he wasn’t allowed to touch you. “Don’t cum ’til I tell you to, understand?” you’d said. “Or I’m gonna get myself off, and you’re gonna watch.”
He was a good boy for you, though, and you let him fuck you in the shower.
Your nose scrunches in muted embarrassment. “I wasn’t being that mean, was I?”
“No. I mean, you could certainly get meaner…” Eddie assures with a shake of his head, then grins as his fingers crawl up your ribcage. You fight back a shiver. “Which I think could be preferable from time to time.”
“So, you want me to be more… dominant?”
He shrugs a pale, freckled shoulder. “Yeah. Sometimes. I like watching you get all dumb for me, don’t get me wrong, but every time you get a little mean, I almost cum in my pants.”
The blatant confession makes you go slightly stupid. You just nod at him, lazy and unblinking. “Yeah. I can do that. You know, if that’s what you want.”
“I do want,” Eddie hums, matching your sloppy head shake. His nicotine-coated breath fans across your cheek. “Very, very much.”
“But not all the time, though, right?”
“No. Not all the time. Just… sometimes— when the moment’s right or whatever.”
“Sure…”
Eddie’s grin broadens when you trail off. A faraway look glazes over your eye. His brows raise expectantly. “What’s that look for?”
You blink rapidly as you descend from the clouds. Shaking your head, you dismiss him. “Nothing. Nothing— I just… I did kinda like not letting you come right away.”
“Yeah. Me too,” Eddie concurs, suddenly breathless.
Your gaze flits to his, mousy and twinkling. Your hands fidget above the covers. “And I kinda wanna try letting you cum and maybe… not stopping…”
Eddie’s eyes go wide. His mouth opens to respond, but he forgets how to speak. He barely remembers to breathe.
“Is that… Is that weird?” you ask, forcing a laugh at his unusual silence.
“No!” he blurts, sounding much louder in the honeyed quiet of his bedroom. “No, that’s… That’s really hot, actually. Like, really hot.”
He zones out just like you had. The imagery of it all makes his stomach whirl. He’s done it to you a number of times — brought you to the edge and kept on pushing you over until you pushed him away. But he’d never thought about ever doing it to himself till now. 
Actually, there’s quite a lot of things he’s done to you that he might enjoy himself if he thinks about it.
The thought alone opens a world of possibility in his wild, wild head.
“Can I tell you about something I was thinking about the other day?” he wonders suddenly.
Though slightly startled by the blurted question, you nod. “Of course.”
His gaze flits away from yours. His hand fidgets at your waist, fingers softly scratching at your burning skin. “You know my handcuffs? The ones I clip on my jeans sometimes?”
Again, you nod.
“Well, I— I have the keys, you know? So it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if we— you know— if we used them…”
“On me?” you press, brows pinched in distant concern.
Eddie shakes his head immediately. “No. I know you don’t like that.”
“So… on you?”
“Yeah. Maybe. If you want,” the boy mumbles, suddenly shy in a way you’ve only seen a handful of times — including earlier, when he was begging to cum in your mouth. “I just think it could be cool, you know? Like, you could tie me up and just… use me. If you want,” he repeats.
“Use you?” you repeat with a soft laugh.
He shrugs. “Yeah. I mean, I don’t— I don’t really care about getting off as much as I care about you getting off, you know? I just… wanna take care of you. Want you to take what you want.”
You open your mouth to respond only to find that all words have lost meaning. Your brain is a jumbled mess of alphabet soup. So you just nod, dumb at the very thought.
Eddie’s hand rises from the covers. His palm settles warm at your jaw. His fingers smell faintly of sex as his calloused thumb smooths across your chapped lips. “You could, like, rub yourself on my cock. Get yourself off on top of me,” he murmurs lowly to you, a quiet and crooked grin pulling at his mouth. “Wouldn’t that be metal?”
“Yeah…” you answer with a sigh, getting lost in the daydream right along with him. “Wouldn’t put you inside me at first, either. Not until you’re begging for it.”
His smile widens. “Exactly.”
“Then I’ll ride you until you make me cum.”
Eddie nods, egging you on. He tucks his face into your neck, if only to conceal how ardently he’s blushing. He hides his pink cheeks between your jaw and shoulder and kisses you where he knows it’ll drive you crazy. 
“Mhmm?” he urges, muffled.
You sigh a faint moan. Your fingers curl in his wild hair. You press your lips to his temple and continue. “And I’ll let you come, too. Eventually… But I won’t stop.”
“Fuck,” he groans into your pulse.
“Not until you’ve filled me up three times—”
“Oh, fuck…”
You tug at his hair with a soft, stern touch you think you could learn to master for him. His lips click faintly when he parts from you. He blinks down at you with glassy chocolate eyes.
“Something like that?” you wonder, feigning innocence with a sweet-sounding lilt.
Eddie nods, sloppy and stupid. He stammers. “Yeah… Yeah. Some—Something like that.”
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zhuzhee · 1 year
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waughh i will get through this semester i will throttle my exams i will finish all my org work especially that one pesky shirt design i will focus on my project i will draw mochael my beloved and actually start reviewing the consti and commit maybe ten crimes hashtag Manifesting
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nereidprinc3ss · 10 days
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do you believe me now? | 3
in which spencer reid spends a rainy day teaching inexperienced fem!reader how to touch him. of course, her efforts don't go unrecognized, much less unrewarded
part one | part two
18+ (smut) warnings: inexperienced reader, softdom!spencer, sub reader, oral m receiving, reader swallows lol, a truly sickening amount of praise, like really, you JOKINGLY refer to each other as dirty sluts, r has longish hair, spit mentioned once, thigh riding (moans loudly), its filthy idk what to tell you, i feel like i've crossed the desert on foot i don't even know what else is in here, your honor they're in love, i take you to dinner first, this part is stupidly long a/n: had a fucking field day the three separate times i had to rewrite this el oh el... but think i like how it turned out?! anyway, if u like this PLS lmk bc writing it took a small piece of my soul, and yes there will be a part four!! take care of yourselves!! i love you!!!
You give Spencer half a minute or so before knocking on his door for a second time. 
It’s miserable outside, and though the hallway you’re standing in now isn’t terribly cold, you’d much prefer to be in Spencer’s apartment, where it will be the same toasty 68.5 degrees as always. Not that the heating will magically dry you. And not that you’ll be there for long, if the date you’d scheduled last week goes on as planned. 
You’re getting worried, about to knock for a third time when the locks finally click and the door opens to reveal a disheveled Spencer Reid—not at all looking ready for a date. You take in his ensemble; blue checked pajama pants, FBI Academy crewneck, the usual questionably paired socks. He’s rubbing his droopy eyes, which slowly widen as he notices your attire. 
“Shit, I’m sorry, our date! I mean—you look really nice. I look… like this. Why don’t you come in while I get ready to go?”
He holds the door open a little wider and you step through, relishing in the familiar warmth as you pull your hood down and excess water droplets spatter on the ground. 
“When did you get in?” you ask, hanging your raincoat up on a hook. You know he’d wrapped up a case yesterday evening, but you’d gone to sleep before the team left Cincinnati. 
Spencer pauses in the middle of the room, staring at the antique flooring like he forgot what he was doing. 
“Uh… four hours ago.”
“Wh—four hours? Spencer, you must be exhausted.”
He laughs awkwardly, running a tired hand over his face. 
“I mean… I’ve definitely felt better.”
You kick your soaked shoes off and cross the room until you’re toe to toe with him. Immediately his hands settle on your waist and yours find his arms. His eyes are kind, and he’s clearly pleased by your presence despite his lack of energy. 
“The weather’s terrible, anyway. Let’s just go out another day.”
His features have softened and you can see how tired he truly is—not just in his bleary eyes, but the way his fingers grasp weakly to you, the way his head bows slightly. It seems bone-deep. 
“But I haven’t seen you in a week. I don’t want you to go home.”
Your lips twist. A clap of thunder rolls in the distance and the rain starts coming down even harder against the windowpanes. 
“We could hang out here. We can take a nap!”
Spencer sighs—half resignation, half disappointment. 
“But we made such good plans,” he laments. 
You kiss his cheek. 
“Plans that can be rescheduled. The bookstore will still be there next weekend.”
It takes him a moment to settle into the idea, but you watch the exhaustion win. 
“Okay. But no nap. I want to be awake for you. Coffee?”
You nod enthusiastically, beaming at the prospect of getting to spend the day doing nothing with him. Spencer mirrors your grin, before pressing a kiss to your head.
“You’re so cute.” Heat creeps into your cheeks and you can’t think of a satisfactory reply, but in the end you don’t need to, as he tugs gently on your hands. “C’mon. Tell me what mug you want.”
The kitchen counter bites into your palms as you lean with your back to it, watching Spencer putter all around the kitchen as he works on the coffee. It makes you tired just to watch. 
“Are you sure you don’t want to take a nap? Caffeine isn’t a substitute for sleep, you know.”
“I do know,” he agrees, measuring coffee grounds. “But other than last night, I actually slept fairly well this week.”
“You seem exhausted.”
“I… am tired in lots of ways. Not all of which can be resolved with more sleep.” he admits.
Your heart drops ever so slightly at the way his voice weakens as he looks through the fridge. Sometimes you remember there are still things you don’t know about him—sides you haven’t met. His work side is one of them, and it more than a little intimidates you.
“Bad case?” you ask, voice quiet and crackling with nervous energy. 
Spencer nods, approaching and setting a carton of milk on the counter behind you—caging you in with his arms in the process. It’s hard to find the words when he’s this close, but you manage to stumble through them. 
“Do… do you wanna talk about it?”
Spencer hums, tilting his head before gently saying, “not right now. But thank you for offering, lovely.”
“Okay, well—if you change your mind… if there’s anything I can do to make you feel better…”
Finally he stops with the teasing—the unabashed staring at your lips, the faux-attentive nods—and drops his head to your level to kiss you properly. It’s obviously an attempt to get you to shut up, you’re not dumb enough so as to miss that—but you don’t really care why he’s doing it so long as he does it at all. 
“I feel pretty great right now, actually,” he murmurs against your lips, a hint of a smile coloring his words. “Do you want sugar in yours?”
“Um…”
Your eyes dart helplessly between his as he pulls away and you struggle to un-fluster yourself enough to answer his simple question. Spencer seems to delight in this. The longer it takes you, the bigger his perfect smile gets. 
“You took too long. You’re getting sugar.”
“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?” you plead later on the couch, for the third or fourth time, setting your mostly-empty mug on the coffee table. 
His eyebrows raise. 
“I’m sure, honey.”
“But I want to help,” you pout, pulling your knees into your chest. Spencer regards you for a moment from the other end of the couch, before beckoning you closer wordlessly. 
“You are helping,” he assures you, gently grabbing your wrist as you crawl into his lap. He rubs soothing circles into the delicate skin with his thumb. “You being here and being you is plenty.”
It’s the closest you’ve been to him since before he left, and while you’ve all but given up on asking him to sleep with you, it doesn’t mean you don’t think about it multiple times per day. It’s especially difficult to keep your thoughts PG when you haven’t seen him in a week, and his hair is all messy, and he’s got his pajamas on, and you’re in his lap, and he’s looking at you like that. 
“What are you thinking about?” Spencer murmurs, likely concerned by your lack of response and the glazed-over look in your eyes. You reanimate, averting your gaze to the spot on your thigh he’s now rubbing absentmindedly. 
“Nothing. I just missed you.”
“I missed you a lot, too.” You don’t even have to look up to know that his brows have twisted into a pleasant sort of bemusement, like you are a particularly complex puzzle—you can hear it as he continues speaking. “I’m still not used to having something external take up so much of my attention while I’m trying to do my job. I’ve never had that before. Not something good, anyway. It’s like every time I leave, I’m thinking about you more than the time before. And I was already thinking about you a lot.”
The corner of your mouth twitches as he rambles. 
“Really?”
“Yeah, really,” he chuckles. “You prove to be incredibly distracting even when you’re hundreds of miles away. Do you know how many nights I almost called you before realizing it was one in the morning?”
A slow smile spreads over your face. 
“Oh? Whatever could you have been calling about at one in the morning?”
You’re teasing him, and it works. He blushes adorably. 
“Um… probably exactly what you’d expect. In hindsight I think it’s best that I refrained.”
“What?” You grin, incredulous, forgetting your shyness and leaning closer. “You totally should’ve. I’ve never had phone sex before. I would’ve done it.”
“No, you wouldn’t!” Spencer laughs. “It would have just been me talking to myself with you on the other line. I don’t think phone sex is really up your alley.”
“Shut up,” you laugh as your lips meet. He smiles into the kiss. Before you get too lost in it, you pull away, leaning back when he tries to follow you. “I think you’re over-complicating it. It’s just dirty talk, right? I can totally do that. It’s just, like… blah blah blah, dirty slut, something something…”
You trail off as he gives you a look. Poker faced—aside from the slightly narrowed eyes sparkling with humor. 
“You want me to refer to you as a dirty slut?”
Maintaining eye contact is an uphill battle—you crack in a matter of seconds, resting your forehead against his and closing your eyes stubbornly. 
“No. For all you know I want to call you a dirty slut.”
It’s a ridiculous, but he recognizes the bravado for what it is, still smiling slightly as he rubs your hips. 
“Right. I apologize for assuming. But just for future reference, I don’t want to be called that, and I don’t think I’d be comfortable calling you that, either.”
“But you can call me other stuff,” you remind your boyfriend, pulling back and still not looking at him. 
“Yeah? Like what?”
And just like that, you’re shy again. 
“I don’t know… nice things. I like when you’re nice.”
“I like being nice to you.” It’s so sincere-sounding that you meet his gaze, examining his face. His eyes are clear and soft on you, the only source of warm light on such a grey day, as his hands keep running slow lines over your sides. “Kiss?”
And how could you ever deny him anything? 
As has happened before, the kiss starts out innocent enough. And it’s not that it gets particularly heated, or anything—it’s just that it doesn’t end, and after a few moments your mouth slips open and so does his and that’swhat gets both of you worked up over a period of minutes. Pressure and heat that you’re becoming accustomed to build between your legs, and you don’t even notice that you’ve begun rocking back and forth in his lap until Spencer is attempting to still your hips with patient but assertive hands. 
“Honey, that’s—slow down, sweetheart.”
Finally he gets a grip on you and you realize as soon as you stop moving that there had been friction occurring—and you’re pretty damn sure you know what you were grinding against. 
Your whole body feels hot with arousal and embarrassment. 
“Oh my god—I’m sorry,” you mumble, moving your hands from his shoulders to cover your face. “That was an accident, I—”
“It’s fine,” Spencer assures you, squeezing your waist gently. “I just wanted to make sure you knew what you were doing because I know we haven’t… gotten there, yet.”
A moment passes—your hands fall to the FBI stitching across his chest, studying the letters without really seeing them. You haven’t gotten there yet… but why not? Why haven’t you touched him, or even seen him? You think back to the few times he’s touched you and realize that you had been too busy with either your own insecurities or pleasure to genuinely consider how it might be affecting him. He says your name gently, drawing your attention. 
“You okay?”
You nod haltingly, brow furrowed as you think. 
“I—yeah. I was just realizing that I haven’t, like… touched you, yet.”
It’s silent for another long second, and you glance up, to where he’s studying you with a dissonant kind of relaxed scrutiny—a knowing confidence that probably comes with a lot more experience than you have. 
“Do you want to?”
Woah. 
Usually you have to beg on hands and knees and prepare a slideshow presentation before he agrees to doing anything sexual in nature. He’s never so overtly invited or initiated it before. Not that you’re complaining by any stretch of the imagination.  
You nod shyly, still fiddling with the fabric of his shirt. 
“If you want to, I can show you how. But it’s also absolutely okay if you don’t.”
Show you how? 
Your brain is melting into sludge at the idea. 
“I do,” you admit, meeting his gaze again. It’s kind, and you know he really wouldn’t be upset if you said no—but now that you’ve thought about it, you feel deeply compelled to try. 
“Okay. Come here, first.” You lean forward expectantly, eyes fluttering shut as his hand finds the back of your neck and he pulls you into another soft kiss. By the time your lips separate again, your head is spinning. “We’re just trying something, okay? You’re allowed to stop whenever you feel like it. Really low stakes. Got it?”
You nod, still close enough that your noses brush as you do. 
“Got it.”
He presses one more chaste kiss to your lips before pulling away and leaning back into the couch. 
“Scoot back a little, angel.”
Wordlessly you do so, heart pounding with nervous excitement as he lifts his hips and slides his pajama pants down just enough to where he can comfortably pull himself out, and—
Your breath catches. 
Now, you may be about as virginal as they come, but you weren’t born yesterday. You’ve seen porn, you’ve received unsolicited nudes—it is the 21st century. Yet never before have you thought to yourself; wow, that dick is the pinnacle of beauty. Perfect. Breathtaking. But there’s just no other way to describe him. 
So that’s what hits you first—how unexpectedly pretty it is. 
The size sinks in a quick second later. 
You can’t tell with perfect accuracy how many inches he is, but you’re pretty damn sure he’s big. That’s meant to fit inside of you?
No, no—that’s a consideration for another day. Right now you need to stop staring like an idiot. You glance up at his face, and he’s sporting a cocky little half-smile which lets you know you’ve been caught. Motherfucker he’s so hot. It’s unnerving. 
“Do you have something you’d like to say?” he asks politely, quite obviously containing his amusement. But you can’t summon a sufficiently sarcastic response. 
Your voice comes so soft when you reply, “you’re pretty.”
Spencer melts, eyes impossibly softening. 
“Pretty?” His smile is earnest now. He strokes your cheek and you can’t not lean into his touch. 
“Mhm. I want to, um…” your lips twist to the side as you look back down, finding he’s not gotten less intimidating since you last checked. “But what if I’m bad at it?” you whisper. He chuckles, brushing hair over your shoulder.  
“It’s kind of a hard thing to be bad at. And I’m gonna help you, okay?”
It’s the honesty with which he speaks to you that makes you feel so safe. There are no hidden intentions or words that seem to mean one thing but really mean another. Spencer wants you as a person more than he wants you as a body and that’s been clear since the first time he touched you. You take a deep breath. 
“Okay. What do I do?”
“First, you’re gonna spit in your hand.”
You look up, alarmed. 
“You want me to intentionally get my spit on you? Is that not your worst nightmare?”
“Believe it or not, I’m not super worried about yours,” he teases. “But if you’d prefer, I can spit in your hand.”
“Actually, mine is fine,” you laugh nervously. 
Hesitantly, you do as instructed, even though it seems frankly bizarre. 
“Good. Now just wrap your hand around it, like this.” His voice is quiet, focused as he guides your hand downward. Your heart rate ticks up again as he encourages you to wrap your hand around the base of his cock. He feels much warmer than you’d expected—his skin is silken beneath your touch but he’s undeniably hard and that sort of eliminates any sense of him being fragile from the equation. 
“It’s gonna be less sensitive down here—and then, up here—” he slides your hand back up, covering your thumb with his own and swiping it just below the head of his cock on the underside. He hisses and you look up in fascination. “That’s the most sensitive part.”
Without further instruction, you do it again, keeping your touch light and watching his face for a reaction. His drawn brows twitch, furrowing deeper for a second, and his lips part. A heavy exhalation passes between them and quickly builds into a breathy laugh. 
“What?” you murmur, over-eager to please and very nervous to do something wrong. 
“Nothing. Just feels good, that’s all.”
“Don’t laugh,” you pout. Of course that makes him laugh again, and he leans forward to kiss your head. 
“I’m laughing at myself, angel. I’m a grown man fighting for my life from a handjob that you’ve barely started. I knew it would be different with you but I didn’t realize it would be this different.”
Heat rises in your cheeks and you look away. 
“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better.”
“I’m not lying,” he urges, grabbing your free hand and encouraging you to uncurl your fingers. His thumb traces circles in your open palm, before capturing your entire hand in his. “Do you feel how much softer your hand is than mine?”
You frown, attempting to feel whatever it is that he’s pointing out. Despite the fact that you think he has very nice hands, you realize he’s right. By no means would you say that they’re rough, but you can tell where his gun normally sits in his hands, where his fountain pen rubs against his fingers. “Yeah.”
“Yeah. Anything you do is going to be perfect because it’s you.”
Spencer drops his hand to your leg, rubbing it soothingly. The other moves to cover yours—the one wrapped around him. 
“You’re gonna help me, right?” you ask quietly. Some adventurous part of you is very excited about this as an experiment—fascinated by the reactions you’ve already gotten from him and eager to push it. 
“I am. Little bit tighter, honey. I’ll tell you if it’s too much.”
You do as you’re told, and he’s murmuring more praise—slowly encouraging you to begin moving your hand with his own. A shaky exhale catches your attention, drawing your gaze to his face. His eyes are, of course, cast downward, but his expression is hypnotizing. Those lips remain slightly parted, and suddenly you wonder if he makes noises like you do. In that moment it becomes your life’s mission to find out. 
For a while you continue letting his hand guide your movements, but he keeps things so slow for your sake that you’re getting impatient. You forgo his direction, picking up the pace but trying to keep the rhythm he’d instilled in the motion. His hand slackens around yours. 
“Fuck,” he hisses to himself. The hand on your thigh rubs achingly deeper into the flesh. “Angel, what are you doing?”
“I want it to feel good.” Suddenly shy again, you slow down. His hips stutter, which you think may be a sign that it was working. “Am I—was that bad?” Spencer looses a breath, looking almost… frustrated?
“No, I’m just—I’m weirdly close to coming.”
“That’s a good thing, right?”
“Well,” he mutters, “not usually. Mostly it’s embarrassing.”
You giggle, a release of some tension, and begin pumping your hand again. His breath hitches and he finally looks up at you, meeting your eyes with his own lust-glazed ones. Heat pools deep between your legs. 
“I want you to come,” you admit quietly as you twist your wrist, brushing that spot underneath the head of his cock again. His jaw literally drops, and a look that is part confusion, part pleasure, twists his features. You see the surprise sparkling in his eyes and it only spurs you to keep talking. “I’ve never seen how you look when you do, but I’ve imagined it. I bet you look so pretty when you come, Spencer. ‘Nd then I would know that I can make you feel good, too.”
“You… you are making me feel good,” he assures you. The way his brow furrows and his  lips are parted give you a feeling that’s entirely new. Normally, you’re the one falling apart under his touch—but when it’s the other way around there’s a whole new kind of pleasure in it for you. You feel kind of powerful. Maybe even close to confident. 
“Really? I’m not this quiet when you touch me.”
“I’ve ha—ah—had more practice not making noise.”
“But why?” you implore, ignoring the fact that he’s slept with other women and enjoyed the sounds they made, and opting to brush your thumb across that extra sensitive part he definitely shouldn’t have told you about. His hips buck up and he hisses, which is immensely gratifying to you. 
“Because I like to listen.”
“What if I do, too?”
In a moment of divine inspiration , you cover the tip of his cock with your hand, swirling beads of pre-come over your palm. Spencer moans and his hips jut up into your grip. It’s a beautiful sound, just as you’d hoped. 
“Jesus, fuck.”
You understand why he seems to enjoy touching you so much. It’s so rewarding to watch as his breathing picks up and pleasure contorts his face—to watch him get messier and messier and lose his composure a bit more with each stroke of your hand. It’s so simple but Spencer looks at you like you’re exercising some arcane deviant power over him and he’s not sure he should be enjoying it as much as he is. 
Distantly you think about how it felt when he had his hands on you—and then, in clearer focus, how it felt when he went down on you. Both were perfect, but something about his lips so gentle on the most intimate, vulnerable part of you had felt like ascension. Maybe it was the emotional component, or maybe it just felt fucking good. Regardless, it seems an irresistible thought. 
You keep stroking him until his head is lolling on the back of the couch as he groans.
“Spencer?”
“Yeah, baby?”
He sounds so destroyed it makes you clench around nothing. Without any indication that you’re going to do so, you stop touching him, and the speed with which he lifts his head again is almost comical. Immediately, while he’s utterly defenseless and desperate, you ask, “can I use my mouth?” 
His eyes widen, and then shut, as he processes your request with a tiny shake of his head—probably trying to clear the haze of pleasure from his mind before he answers. 
“Honey,” he rasps eventually, opening his eyes and smoothing a hand over your hair, “you don’t have to do that just because I do. That’s not why I do it.”
“But I want to,” you murmur, shy and mildly embarrassed by what feels almost like a soft rejection. “I don’t think I could do anything, like, mind-blowing, but… I want to try.”
Your face is hot by the end of the sentence, and you can’t meet Spencer’s eyes as his fingers twitch over your hip. A quiet moment passes—but it’s short-lived.
“Okay. Go ahead, baby.”
Wide eyes dart up to his. 
“Really?”
Spencer smiles fondly, brushing an invisible speck from your cheek. 
“I don’t think I’m capable of turning that offer down. Not when it’s you.”
“Okay—um, should I just—” Spencer watches on, finding your sudden enthusiasm completely adorable as you scoot off of his lap and gingerly kneel in front of him. Your eyes are big and glassy as you look up at him, hands set politely on his knees. You squint suspiciously, eyes darting between his face and his cock, now about as hard as it’s ever been due to your toying. He knows it’s probably intimidating for a girl who has never seen one in real life, and he feels kind of bad about it. You do terrible, wonderful things to him that he doesn’t understand. “Wow. So... it looks bigger from down here.”
“Please don’t try to choke yourself,” he instructs hurriedly, leaning forward slightly. “I really don’t need you to do that. It’s fine if you can’t fit it all, I just—” he exhales shakily. Spencer is most definitely strong-willed but he can’t pretend like the sight of you on your knees for him, inches from his aching cock for the first time isn’t impacting his cognition. Most importantly he doesn’t want to make you feel pressured. He’s trying to not let how badly he wants this show in case you change your mind. 
Spencer watches as you psych yourself out—wilting like a thirsty flower. 
“But what if I’m bad at this?” you mumble, hands curling into loose fists atop his legs. Spencer pushes your hair back, tucking it behind your ears. 
“What’s your worst case scenario?” he asks. Your answer is immediate. 
“That I’m so bad you make me stop halfway through.”
Spencer can’t help but laugh again. 
“I’m sorry—I just… honey, you are really underestimating how profound your effect is on me. I just almost came from a minute long handjob. I can assure you that I won’t make you stop halfway through because I’d rather not have your mouth on me. That is… that’s just not going to happen.”
You lean your cheek against his thigh. He might actually pass away. 
“Will you tell me if I’m doing something wrong?”
“Honestly, as long as you don’t bite, you’re in the clear.”
Your eyes squeeze shut and your lips pull into an embarrassed little smile. 
“Great. Thank you for that invaluable advice.”
“Of course,” he smiles. It fades slowly as you take a deep breath and look up at him, obviously steeling yourself, before leaning forward and taking him in your hand again. He watches with bated breath, repeating no sudden movements to himself over and over as your hand moves up and down a few more times and your head lowers. 
You delicately, so lightly trace your tongue from the base of his swollen cock to just underneath the leaking tip, mapping a vein, and his hips buck as you take him into your mouth experimentally. Only the first few inches fit but the sight of your lips wrapped around him, the way you’re looking at him is so unbelievably erotic Spencer knows he won’t last very long.
From a purely technical perspective—he knows he’s gotten objectively better head. Still, something about the way you’re so delicate with him, so soft and timid in the way you lick and kiss and take him into your mouth has him fighting not to come already. Maybe it’s wrong, but knowing that he’s watching you do this for the first time in your life is obscenely arousing. The idea that you’ve never trusted another person this much; that you’re letting him be the one to help you navigate something as new and as important as sexuality. The more he thinks about it, though, the more he realizes: it’s not your inexperience that turns him on. It’s just you. Everything you do is so undeniably you—he recognizes your mannerisms in every tiny motion, in every glance, and it’s killing him. You’re like a dream as you look up at him with big nervous eyes, (no, really, he has had this dream) and he remembers he wants to be reassuring you—not pondering life and human connection. 
“Look at you,” he murmurs, groaning and hips twitching as your cheeks hollow, wrapping his achingly hard cock in soft gentle warmth so sweetly it feels taboo. “So good, baby. So gorgeous like this.”
You whine around him, receptive as always to his obsequious praise, and he notices the way your hips wiggle as you seek friction. God, you must like this a lot. Spencer gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail, resting his hand on your head as you begin to bob it. That, he wasn’t prepared for. He’d have been satisfied with just kitten-licks and suckling but he won’t complain about this. It’s slow, and so intentional as you keep watching him for feedback cues. Ever his observant girl, you’re constantly paying attention. Aware of his reactions. He needs to keep telling you you’re good or else you’ll assume you’re terrible. 
“Over-achiever,” he whispers through a little smile as you down even more of him. 
Spencer is for the most part a kind and gentle person. For better or worse he is also a man, and he can’t help but fantasize about getting you all teary and drooly as he holds your mouth open and sees how much of his cock he can push down your throat. But again—kind. Gentle. So when you get a little over-zealous, attempting to sacrifice your comfort for his pleasure, he pulls your head back slightly. “That’s far enough, angel. That’s—fuck. God, you’re good at this.” The words are thoughtless, muttered to himself more than you as he watches through a haze while you look up at him with glassy, half-lidded eyes, slipping him in and out of your warm mouth, a little faster now as you gain confidence. 
You whine desperately around him, like you’re the one nearing orgasm and not him. The sound of your pleasure as you suck his cock makes him dizzy. His hips buck, pressing him a little deeper into your mouth. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he exhales. “Slow down, baby. I’m—” a louder moan from him like you’ve never heard as he thrusts shallowly turns you on profoundly. He’s so much more vocal than you’d have imagined—sonically and verbally. He breathes out a quick, “fuck, fuck, fuck,” pulling your hair slightly, and you’ve never wanted to touch yourself more but you know you can’t focus on both. Instead you work on making him come—you can worry about you later. He says your name, with an authoritative edge to his tone that makes you throb. “Honey, if you don’t stop, I’m gonna come—”
You swirl your tongue around the top of him like candy and he’s done for. Spencer tries to pull out, which only results in cum both in your mouth and on your face. The orgasm is his strongest in recent memory, and he grunts, watching your lips part and a little squeak escape as he comes all over your face—but you keep stroking him all the while. Once he’s 90% sure it’s over, he falls against the back of the couch, breathing heavily and looking down at you through hazy eyes. Oh, he’s going to feel terrible about this in a few seconds—but right now you look fucking perfect. Your eyes are wide, nervous as his essence drips over your face and down your neck—he groans when you swallow cautiously, averting his eyes to the ceiling lest he do another thing he regrets. 
“Baby, I am so sorry,” he mutters, forcibly clearing the haze of orgasm from his mind and sitting up, fixing his pants and looking around before locating the box of tissues on the side table. “I’m so, so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” You look up at him attentively as he wipes himself from your face as gently as he can. 
“Why not?”
“Because I didn’t ask you first. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”
Spencer guides your head around by your chin, wiping your jaw and lips. 
“It’s okay, Spence, I—”
“No, it’s not,” he cuts you off, trying to at least turn his guilt into a learning experience for you. He’s not deluded enough to think someone like you will stay with someone like him forever, because sometimes he does things like that, and he’s reminded that there are certainly people out there more deserving of you. At the very least he can clarify that nobody should ever do what he just did to you. “It’s really not nice to do that to someone.”
“Do you care what I think at all?”
Spencer freezes, finally forcing himself to look you in the eye. Despite the fact that he’s mad at himself, he’s sure it’s coming across as being directed at you. And he knows you’re sensitive, especially about this kind of thing. 
“Of course, I do, baby. I’m sorry. Do you want to come back up here with me and tell me what you’re thinking?” he murmurs, cupping your jaw. Hesitantly you nod. The tissues end up on the table—which he will be thoroughlywiping down later—before you crawl back into his lap from the floor. Spencer helps you settle against him, hoping he hasn’t messed this up irreversibly. He keeps his voice quiet as he rubs your leg. “What were you going to say?”
“I was going to say,” you begin, “that it’s fine, because you’ll remember to ask next time. And because… I kind of liked it. I like when—when you do stuff like that.”
It’s a miracle he can hear you with the way your voice drops into an almost-whisper and you’re hiding against his shirt. 
“Like what?” he murmurs. Although he’s not sure he’ll be able to handle the answer. 
“Like… I don’t know. Like you can do whatever you want to me. Like I’m literally yours.” Each word makes you cringe further, but Spencer has to try hard to maintain a cool facade as he processes this. If he’s going to try and be chivalrous, you’ll have to move away from this topic—this revelation—immediately. Thankfully, you seem eager to move on. “So… how did I do?”
He almost laughs. It seems exceedingly obvious how you did, but as per usual, you require verbal reassurance. 
“That was really good, baby. You did well.”
You blossom. 
“Really?”
“I wouldn’t lie.”
“Was I the best girl out of all of the other girls?” 
I wasn’t in love with any of the other girls. 
Just barely, he manages to stop himself from saying it, pinwheeling his arms on the edge of a very steep verbal cliff. The realization that he’s been in love with you for a while hits him like a truck. But he can’t tell you that right now. He should wait until you’re less vulnerable.
Fuck. 
He really wants to tell you right now. 
“Actually—don’t answer that,” you decide, while all of this happens in his head in less than a few seconds. “I want to go back to pretending I’m the only girl you’ve ever seen in your life.”
“You’re the only one that matters,” he offers, relieved to express at least some portion of the much bigger truth. Then he frowns. “Not that the other women I’ve met don’t lead important lives. I actually know a lot of incredibly influential and intelligent people who are women. I have deep respect for all of them. Am I helping or making it worse?” he rambles. You giggle. He has his answer. “What about you? How do you feel?” he asks after a moment, tenderly, lowly, stroking your hair as you lean against his chest. 
It takes you a moment to deliberate, fiddling with the fabric of his shirt. 
“I feel good. I, um… liked it a lot more than I would have thought.”
“Well, that’s good. Much better than if you had hated every second of it.”
You hum in agreement, and he waits for you to say whatever you’re holding back. It comes sooner than he’d have anticipated. 
“I feel bad about the times before. How did you just… go to sleep after? Were you not, like—insanely turned on? Not that I’m, like, irresistibly sexy, or whatever—you know what I mean.”
Spencer smiles because he knows you can’t see him. 
“I wasn’t doing it to pressure you into feeling obligated to reciprocate, I guess. My line of reasoning was that it would be less intimidating if I didn’t even present it as an option until you wanted to try.”
“Oh.”
Spencer thinks he sees where this is going. 
“Why?” he asks, leaning back and encouraging you to look at him. “Are you insanely turned on?”
“Wh—that’s—I didn’t say that!”
Spencer can feel how warm your cheeks are as he presses his lips to the side of your face. 
“You can tell me if you are,” he murmurs, all smiley as he moves to kiss your lips. “If you want something, you need to ask for it. I’m not a mind reader.”
“Yes you are,” you grumble. “That’s literally what behavioral analysis is.”
Not quite true, but surprisingly, he doesn’t feel the need to explain to you the semantics of what he does for work right now. 
“What got you all excited?”
“You know what,” you mumble, trying to look away again. Spencer doesn’t allow it this time, gently grabbing your jaw. 
“Yes, I do. But I want you to tell me. If you want me to make you feel good, this is how you’re going to convince me that you deserve it.”
You whine wordlessly, looking at him with those big, lust-glazed eyes.
“You wanted me to teach you how to use your words, right? This is it. I’m giving you an opportunity. If you don’t want to, that’s okay. Maybe we can take a nap, like you said earlier.”
“No! I liked—um, I liked all of it. I didn’t know if I would, because I was really nervous. But when I first—you know—and you got all quiet… it was like you couldn’t even talk for a minute. I was kind of proud of that. Because normally nobody can ever get you to stop talking.” Spencer narrows his eyes incredulously, a small smile tugging at his lips. But he doesn’t interrupt—not when it seems you’re finally starting to get more confident in your words. “And I really liked the noises you made. I think that was my favorite part. I liked when you pulled my hair back, and how you spoke to me. And when… when you got me messy and I had to swallow it. I really liked how it felt because I couldn’t think of anything else, just making you feel good. I really wanted to… make you proud, I guess. Is that weird?”
Spencer shakes his head no, a fond smile on his face when your eyes meet his again. 
“No. It’s a pretty normal thing to feel when you’re nervous and wanting to impress someone you care about. And I would have been proud no matter what, for the record. You were being very brave.”
You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, watching him expectantly. Spencer should have known you’re too needy to truly absorb anything he says to you right now. Which is actually pretty cute. Everything you do is endearing to him. 
“Stand up.”
You frown. 
“But—”
“Just stand up,” he demands calmly, preferring to think of himself as firm and not bossy. 
You do, looking rather annoyed and confused as you plant yourself in front of him. 
“Why?”
“You are so full of questions.” His hands slip up the side of your legs, under your skirt, and hook in the waistband of your underwear. Spencer looks up at you meaningfully and you nod, swallowing. 
As he pulls down, Spencer can literally feel the resistance of the fabric clinging to your soaked core. Under his touch the skin of your thighs is warm and soft. He wants to feel it on either side of his face, he wants to hear you whine as his stubble rubs against it, he wants to feel it clamp around his wrist, he wants it between his teeth and he definitely wants it pressing against his hips as he—
But no. 
There will be time for all of those things—especially the last one—later. For now, he’ll reach between your legs just to see—
“Oh, my god,” Spencer half-chuckles, half-groans, upon feeling how wet you truly are for him. He drags his knuckles from your dripping entrance up over your clit, pinching very lightly and earning a squeak from you which he ignores. “You really did like having your mouth full of me, huh?”
“I told you,” you breathe, visibly relaxing some as he continues to play with you for a moment. Then he pulls his hand away again, patting his thigh. 
“Sit.”
“You want me to…”
“Yes,” he says, simply. 
“But is it not going to… am I not going to mess up your pants?”
“You are even more neurotic about messiness than I am. I can wash them, honey. Come here.”
Spencer guides your hips over his thigh, watching your pretty face twist with uncertainty as you fully settle on him. Fuck, he can feel your warmth through the fabric instantly. Already he’s getting hard again. 
“What am I supposed to do?” you whisper, bunching his shirt in your fists. Spencer slides your skirt up higher, revealing the way you’re nestled against his thigh. He spreads you a little further apart, exposing more of your clit to the material underneath you. Immediately you press against him—he watches the delicate flesh rubbing gingerly against him and  his grip tightens ever so slightly. 
“All you have to do is rock back and forth. It’s easy.”
Already you’re starting to do it—but he guesses it’s like earlier where you don’t even realize it’s happening. 
“But… I wanted your mouth,” you admit, quietly, slinging your arms around his neck and burying your face there. 
“Do this for me first. Just get yourself off like this one time and then you can have my mouth. You said you wanted to help me feel better because I’m tired today, right?
“Yes,” you mumble, squirming over him. 
“Well, there are a lot of days when I get back home and I’m tired. I’m gonna need you to be able to get on top of me, just like this, and make me feel better. And I know you don’t know what it feels like to have something that deep inside of you yet, but it’s gonna be a lot. Even once you know how it feels to have me inside when you’re underneath me. I need you to practice for me right now so you’ll be ready, okay?”
You could come from the words alone. You nod, dazed with need as you roll your hips in a circle, pressing his thigh against your clit. 
“Back and forth, baby,” he murmurs, guiding your hips forward with his hands locked around them. “Back and forth, just like this…”
You moan quietly, shamelessly, eyes fluttering as you look down and watch your clit dragging over the darkening fabric. It’s easier if you isolate your hips, grinding down without moving your legs or upper body at all. 
“It feels really good,” you whisper under your quickening breath. 
“Yeah? Does it?”
“Mhm.”
“Good, angel. You look like you know what you’re doing.”
It’s audible now, quiet and wet and dirty. 
“I don’t,” you breathe. He sucks in a breath of his own, stilling your hips with fingers pressed deep into your flesh. 
“Sit up, baby.” You really wish he would stop making you stop, but you don’t want to keep going in case he needs you to quit—so you rise slowly, thighs trembling as you kneel. Spencer groans at the strings of your arousal momentarily connecting your core to his pants before they snap, getting your inner thighs wet. There’s a dark, very wet patch over his thigh, shining like glass. He thumbs over your slick clit absentmindedly as he looks up at you like you’re a miracle. “You’re fucking soaked. I’ve never seen you like this. Is this all from making me come?”
You nod feverishly, hips grinding against nothing in search of friction. He sits you back down on his leg, allowing you to sloppily find your rhythm again. Spencer bounces his leg lightly and you cry out softly, buckling forward. His arms wrap around you, still pressing you down against his thigh as you rut against it. 
“You’re sweet. Maybe I should have known how much you’d like it when I came all over your pretty face. You really like hearing that you did a good job, huh? I bet you like it even more when I prove it to you.”
You moan a “yeah,” barely processing his words. 
“My good girl even swallowed on her first try. Took it so well. And now look at how you’re taking this. You’re gonna love riding, baby. Just going to be another thing you’re good at as soon as you try it.”
“Spencer,” you gasp, overwhelmed by the praise. He’s bouncing his leg at regular intervals and everything is so sensitive.
“I know it’s harder to finish this way, but just one time, remember? And then you can have my tongue for as long as you want. You are my only plan for the day. Just give me one like this.”
But it’s not really harder to finish this way. Then again, you’re so turned on you could probably finish if a breeze hit you just right. Regardless, the thought of him going down on you again pushes you even closer to the edge.
You don’t know how much time goes by like that, you rubbing against him like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do, him pressing up into you until the pressure is so taut it snaps. There’s no time to warn him, but you suppose you don’t really need to. You writhe against him, caught between wanting to keep going and not being able to take more stimulation. He lifts you up just slightly, trying to separate you from his leg. You exhale deeply as your body relaxes, already close to dozing off against his chest.
“We can’t have you tapping out just yet. I still have to fulfill my end of the deal.”
In the end, he fulfills it three times over, and you end up showing your appreciation in kind one more time—much slower and more comfortably in his bed. He gives you plenty of time to learn what he likes, taking your teasing and coquettish explorations like a champ and never so much as tightening his grip in your hair. Turns out, you don't exactly spend the day doing nothing.
And you do end up taking that nap after all. Just... much, much later. And with less clothing on.
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seelestars · 25 days
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caught wearing their clothes ?! (argenti, aventurine, sunday)
a/n : isn’t it kinda funny all 3 of them have boss forms? (´-ω-`) we don’t talk abt the way argentis part is the shortest </3
argenti
it was a nice afternoon, perfect for going out with loved ones. though, even with such lovely weather, you felt bored to death waiting for argenti. so naturally, you would search for ways to cure your boredom while waiting for argenti’s return.
that’s how you got yourself in your current situation—getting caught wearing a spare set of argenti’s usual armor as he returned.
“you look absolutely stunning in my outfit, dearest.” his soft voice startled you, causing you to freeze and immediately turn towards him. your face was practically the color of his hair, as you had never meant for him to see you like this.
“a-argenti! back so early?” you let out a nervous laugh, averting your gaze out of the embarrassment you were feeling.
“is something the matter, dearest? why so nervous? afraid I might scold you for wearing my clothes?” your embarrassment and nervousness seems to elicit a hearty chuckle out of him as he takes a few steps closer to you, extending a rose towards you. “if it’s that you’re worried about—then fear not—as I believe your beauty could rival even the goddess idrila no matter what you wear.” argenti smiles as he softly reassured you.
his words only served to make you flush further, his flattering compliments making your heart race faster. “…you really think so?” originally, you were quite worried about what he’d think if he saw you in this state. but with such kind demeanor and reassurance, how could anyone resist having an ego boost?
“of course, there is no need for me to lie to you.” argenti’s smile widens as he decides to insert the rose behind your ear. “though, I do believe the attire I would love seeing you in the most is attire fit for our wedding one day.”
aventurine
this was your lucky moment! aventurine was currently out attending an ipc meeting, which meant you were left all alone. being left alone gave you many opportunities—specifically an opportunity to borrow his spare clothes and have some fun with it.
as you looked yourself over in the mirror, you had to admit you looked nice in aventurine’s usual clothes. you even chose to take a pair of his glasses and one of his hats to fully immerse yourself in the experience! his outfit was quite flamboyant and was definitely flashy, usually catching the attention of many.
wearing his outfit made some mischievous ideas slowly start to come to life as you made the choice of mocking him in his clothes.
“I always win in my gambles, so naturally I’ll bet my entire bank account! i’m just a stupid, careless, mindless gambler—“ suddenly, you were cut off by the sound of the door opening as aventurine stands there in the doorway, arms crossed with an amused smirk on his lips as he leans against the doorframe.
“hmm… so this is how you choose to kill time while i’m away, huh?” aventurine laughs as he approaches you, observing the way you looked in his clothes. “i have to say, you look quite good like this. I’m surprised you’re bold enough to rock a little window like me, though~” he narrows his eyes, glancing at you playfully as his words made your cheeks flush.
“even your little impression of me was fun to witness. but, it says a lot about you as a person, doesn’t it? if I’m a stupid, careless, mindless gambler, then what does that make you for being attracted to me?” aventurine teases, making your jaw drop as you find yourself scrambling for a response.
“don’t get ahead of yourself now. i’m certainly not attracted to you.” you retort, despite the fact that the both of you knew very well that your words were a blatant lie.
“oho? is that how it is? then let’s see just how much you’re ‘not attracted to me’ once I start doing this…” aventurine’s chuckle sends a shiver down your spine as he begins to lean closer to your lips, his hand making its way down to your hips.
sunday
you had some time before sunday arrived home, and coincidentally, you spotted spare pairs of sunday’s usual attire as you were searching for something to occupy yourself with.
unfortunately, you weren’t a halovian like sunday. so after you had finished putting on his clothes, you had to find a way to improvise when it came to his wings and halo. messily, you began to draw outlines for his wings and halo on some paper. you then colored them in, planning to cut them out and find a way to use them.
just as you were about to tape the paper wings behind your ears, you heard sunday’s voice as he stepped into the house.
you tried to clean everything up and change, but it was too late. you had already been caught.
“ah? is this what I think it is? is the love of my life trying to impersonate me?” sunday jokes light-heartedly, his pleasant laugh filling your ears as you look away shyly. “you even went so far as to make a fake pair of wings and halo… you’re very dedicated if I do say so myself.” he smiles softly as he takes a few steps closer to you, humming as he admired you.
“this was a dumb idea… you’re still the one that looks the best when wearing these clothes.” you laugh awkwardly, a sheepish look in your eyes as he admires you. his attention being completely directed on you at a moment like this seemed to be the most embarrassing possible timing.
“no need to be so embarrassed about all of this, my love. I don’t mind this at all.” sunday shakes his head, hoping his words will reassure you as he lightly pats your head. “in fact, I’d say you look just about ready to replace me as the head of the oak family.” he lets out an amused chuckle at the idea, his mind already painting an image of you leading the family like he currently did.
“then… what would I be missing?” a sigh of relief escapes you at his reassurance before you decided to reply with a more light-hearted tone.
“firstly, you’ll need to learn the proper etiquette, my love. mm.. but I suspect with someone as capable as you, it won’t be hard teaching you how to replace me.” sunday gazes at you with a look filled with fondness. “but at the end of the day, I like you best when you’re being yourself. so there is no need to delve into topics that involve becoming like me or someone else.”
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angelltheninth · 1 year
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HSR men walking in on you when you're just out of the shower? Please I need it, it can be fluffy, smutty, whatever you want it be. I found your blog a a few weeks ago and I am addicted to your writing.
That is kind of wholesome? Thank you for reading and loving my writing so much.
Pairing: Blade, Caelus, Dan Heng, Gepard, Jing Yuan, Welt x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, slightly suggestive, established relationship, teasing, flirting, lots of blushing, kissing
A/N: If you're addicted to my writing at least remember to drink water cause a lot of my posts are thirsty ones.
Blade not being the one to be ashamed or flustered by many things would look at you up and down in quiet appreciation. His smirk widens once he sees you scrambling to cover yourself up with a towel and try your hardest to scold him about coming in here unannounced. It's really hard to take your threats seriously when you're almost fully naked.
Caelus stares at you for a few moments too long before a deep blush takes over and he turns around, but not before throwing his coat over you a little haphazardly. Oh wait... you're naked right now... you know what, you can keep his coat. He apologizes a lot and tries to get out of the room as quick as possible, which is very hard when he has his hands over his face still to prevent you seeing his blush.
Dan Heng will be calm if you're far into your relationship. Before then he will turn around very quickly but lately he's gotten more and more accustomed over seeing you in this state of undress. He will let you get dressed in peace of course but not before he walks over and with a barely audible whisper tells you how pretty you look all wet from the shower and kisses your cheek as he pulls away.
Gepard almost screams when he sees you in such a state. As a knight he knows he shouldn't be looking at you like this, even if you are his girlfriend, he didn't ask to see you like this. You're not mad at him are you? Oh... you don't mind it? Well that's good but he still feels like he needs to do something to apologize. When you get dressed he will do anything you want, and he really does mean anything.
Jing Yuan has seen many people naked but you're the only person he actively wants to stare at all day and never get tired of it. To see you so suddenly was a really nice surprise for him indeed. Its not like he hasn't seen you like this on many occasions before. That being said he doesn't want to pull you on top of him right this moment because you could get sick if you say naked and wet... from the shower that is.
Sampo is as mischievous as he is a gentleman towards you. He has been known to slide his hands under your clothes but that's when you're getting hot and heavy not when he casually walked into your room. He can't help his eyes taking in the beautiful sight for a few moments before he turns with his hands slapped over his crotch. Uh... he needs to take care of this... see you in a little bit.
Welt doesn't really shy away from you when he sees you naked. At the same time he doesn't want you to get sick so he urges you to get dressed really quickly. Weather he will take that clothes off afterwards is up to the two of you of course but he can't deny that he would want to now that he's seen you in this state. What? There's nothing wrong with him getting excited over his girlfriend is there?
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dilemmaontwolegs · 5 months
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Hey love I absolutely love your fics 🥰 I was wondering if you could write a dark toxic romance for Lando or Charles or even Logan where she’s the girl next door??? I love you keep it up ❤️
Crazy For You || LN4
Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, implied smut, gaslighting, dub/con, dark themes WC: 4k Part one || part two || part three || part four
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It had been two months since you moved into your apartment in Monaco and you still hadn’t managed to introduce yourself to your neighbour. He kept strange hours and seemed to be away more than he was there. From what you had glimpsed, you had been delighted to see he was probably around your age and quite handsome in an innocent way. Mr Riley on the other hand was a stoic old man who only spoke to you when your cat climbed over the balcony and into his space.
Known for its year-round beauty and calm climate, Monaco had welcomed you with a comfortable breeze and enough sun to warrant leaving the house without a jacket, even at dusk on a winter's night. If you had checked the weather reports you would have seen that a storm was quickly blowing in from the coast - arriving by the time you had finished having a few cocktails with your new friends. 
Christmas lights twinkled around the shop fronts as you exited the bar and nutcrackers stood proud in doorways. You always loved Christmas and seeing the smiles it put on children’s faces but there were no children out this late. 
“Are you sure you don’t want a ride?” Luke asked as he twirled his keys around his finger. “It’s about to start raining.”
“She’s good,” someone answered for you and you looked over to see your elusive neighbour at your side, his hand coming to rest in the small of your back. “I can take her home.”
“You didn’t tell us Lando was picking you up.”
Your mouth was dry and you didn’t know what to say as the liquor, or his presence, left you confused. Lando, you stored that piece of information away and tried to figure out why it sounded so familiar. 
“I was just out doing some Christmas shopping and about to head home,” he said with a smile. “Ready?”
“Uh, yeah,” you mumbled as you let him guide you away from your friends.
“Are you sure?” Luke asked with a frown. “You don’t look comfortable. Do you even know him?”
“Kind of, I’m just surprised,” you assured him. “Lando is my neighbour.”
“Okay, well, text me when you get home.”
You gave Luke a nod and waved to the others before going your separate ways.
“Are you cold?” Lando asked, already slipping his arms out of the jacket he wore over a dark hoodie. 
The alcohol had made you numb to the temperature but you let him drape it over your shoulders anyway, wrapping you in the decadent scent that came along with it. 
“Thanks.”
“Any time, it’s what neighbours do.”
“I don’t think Mr Riley would,” you teased.
“The grumpy old guy in 4C? We just call him Carl, like the movie Up.”
You smiled awkwardly and toyed with the zip on the jacked. “I’ve never seen it.”
“What?” He pulled you to a stop and grabbed your shoulders with a serious look on his face. “This just won’t do. I cannot be seen with someone who hasn’t watched Up!”
“Oh,” you mumbled as you started to take off his jacket and hand it back. 
“What are you doing, you muppet?” He grabbed the jacket and put it back on your shoulders before opening the door to a very expensive looking car. 
“I thought you meant…”
“It’s fine, I have tinted windows,” he teased. “As soon as we get home though, we’re watching the movie.”
Lando followed you inside without an invitation but you could hardly turn him away with his boyish smile and mop of curly hair that sprung out of his hoodie when he pushed it back. “This makes sense,” he chuckled as he stuck his head in the bedroom, pointing to the wall that your bed was pushed against. “Our apartments are mirrored. I thought I woke up to a voice a few times. Do you watch Friends?”
Your head tilted at the odd question. “Why do you ask?”
“You sing ‘smelly cat’ a lot.”
Mortification hit you and you felt your face burn as you turned to the culprit walking through your house with a loud purr. “That’s Eddie. Do you have any pets?”
“No, I’m always travelling for work and I’m not very good at looking after myself let alone another living thing. Do you actually know how to use those things?”
You looked at the kitchen where he was pointing to the appliances. You had planned to make some Christmas cookies over the weekend and had the stand mixer ready on the benchtop. You thought he was joking but he was genuinely intrigued by the inquisitive look of wonder on his face. “Cooking relaxes me,” you said with a shrug. “You probably have plans already but if you want to come over and-”
“Absolutely, say no more, I’m in.” He crossed the living room and dropped into the middle cushion of the three seater sofa and patted the space beside him with one hand, the other reaching for the remote. “You do have Disney+, right?”
 “You really do like to make yourself comfortable, don’t you,” you joked as you took a seat beside him. 
“I’ve been told I can be a bit much,” he said with a small frown, placing the remote down. “Should I go?”
“No, no, I appreciate the company,” you said as you caught his arm to stop him from going. “Being alone in a new country is a little isolating, it’s nice having someone here.”
He settled back into the seat and sent you a grin as he searched for the movie. “Anytime you need someone to talk to, you can just knock three times.”
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The weeks before Christmas were a madhouse. Work kept you busy as well as the many requests to go home for the holidays, but it just wasn’t going to be feasible to take leave so soon after starting. You knew your parents were going to be disappointed but you promised them you weren’t going to be alone for Christmas.
You had eventually found out why Lando’s name was so familiar when Luke explained who he was and why he was away so often. But since the race season was over he had plenty of time to spend at home, yours and his.
Just like every other evening, you knocked three times on the living room wall knowing Lando would be able to hear it despite the special Christmas Eve stream he was on. It was the last one of the year and he wished everyone a Merry Christmas before the live feed of him playing Counter Strike came to an end. 
“Ouch, Eddie, fuck,” Lando swore a few minutes later as he knocked at your door. “Stop it.”
You opened the door to the frequent occurrence and took the hissing Eddie from his outstretched arms before he could get clawed again. Your ginger cat seemed to hate Lando for some reason, or maybe it was because he was always bringing the escapee back home to you.
“I think you should just move in with me,” Lando joked as he followed the mouthwatering scent into your kitchen. He came to your house for dinner most nights after finding Eddie on his balcony and usually stayed for a movie. That routine had changed slightly when the movie he chose one night was Friends With Benefits. There had been a moment after a sex scene when you both looked across at each other and the idea had passed between your eyes. 
He cleared his throat and you realised you had been staring at him for too long. “Eddie likes my place better.”
It clicked, he wasn’t actually asking you to move in with him. But for a moment you had considered it.
“Right, Eddie,” you laughed at your idiocracy. “I really don’t know how he keeps getting out. I must be going crazy because I’m sure I locked the window this morning.”
You both looked at the window that opened onto the balcony, the skies dark with another storm. “Maybe your cat is a genius and learned how to open it?”
You rolled your eyes but managed a laugh at his attempt to make you feel better while you readied two plates and took them to the table where he sat. “Maybe I should change his name to Houdini.”
“Better than Ed the Ginger.” Lando grinned as he pulled you onto his lap and scooped up a dollop of creamy mash potato with his forefinger, holding it up to your mouth. You sealed your lips around his finger and swirled your tongue around the tip, watching the blue of his eyes be swallowed by his pupils. “Naughty girl, you’ll be getting coal this year.”
Your head fell back with a laugh.“Who are you? Santa Claus?”
“Well, you are sitting on my lap, aren’t you?” He winked and his tongue rolled across his bottom lip. “Wanna see my North Pole?”
“Oh my god, eat your dinner,” you giggled. “We still have to watch A Christmas Carol and Nightmare Before Christmas!”
You had both written a list of all the Christmas movies you wanted to watch and they were the last two left. It was just in time as midnight was going to come all too soon and you wanted to be tucked up warm in bed when the storm hit.
A loud crash had you jolting awake and you blindly reached across the bed in search of Lando to find it empty. Panic gripped you as you wondered if you were being broken into and a scream almost erupted when your light flipped on and Lando rushed in soaking wet. 
“Holy shit, you’ll never believe what just happened!”
You stumbled into the living room where Lando threw an arm out to save you from stepping on the glass that covered the floor. The doors that opened out onto your balcony had been completely shattered during the storm and you shivered as the cold wind and rain blew straight into your home. A huge puddle was quickly spreading across the carpet and it was making its way to the Christmas tree in the far corner while you were still in shock. 
“The presents!” 
Lando twisted away from the pot plant that had been on your balcony wall, now it lay on the floor with the dirt turning to mud. Seeing the urge you had to cut across the glass, he shook his head and pointed to the kitchen where you would remain safe. “I’ll get them.”
Lando carefully navigated his way to the tree, turning off the power to the glittering lights, and bundled the gifts up before hopping his way back with a wince. The wrapping paper on some of the presents were splattered with rain drops but most seemed in perfect condition when he placed them on the kitchen bench.
“You’re bleeding,” you gasped as he balanced on one foot and you wrapped an arm around his waist to help him. “There’s a first aid kit in my bathroom. Can you make it there?”
He nodded and limped with your help away from the mess. “I think you should come and stay at my place until the doors can be fixed.”
“Are you sure?” you asked as you carefully used a pair of tweezers to pull out the small sliver of glass in his foot. “I can just get a hotel.”
“Ouch,” he groaned as it came free and blood welled at the site. “Not on Christmas Day, everywhere will be fully booked. I really don’t mind. It would save you from having to pack a bag.”
“If you’re sure…”
He smiled at the silly Spider-Man bandaid you placed over the wound before running the back of his knuckles across your cheekbone. “I am.”
You shivered at his cold touch and remembered how wet he was when you woke up. “What were you doing up anyway?”
He bit his lip and looked away sheepishly. “I was putting a present under the tree when a flower pot blew through the door.”
“Oh, wow, that wind must be insane. I hope all the boats are safe out there,” you mused, knowing some people lived on the mariner. “Wait, you got me another present? Lando, there’s already too many.”
“I wanted to spoil you,” he said with an unapologetic shrug. “You have single handedly kept me fed for weeks. You may have put a few restaurants out of business too.”
“You weren’t that bad were you?”
“You have no idea,” he chuckled. After testing his foot he took your hand and led you back to the presents to find a thin box that hadn’t been under the tree when you went to bed. “It’s after midnight, you know, you could open it.”
You took the box, surprised by the weight it had, and untied the pretty bow on top. The delicate silver writing drew a gasp and you looked at Lando with wide eyes. “Tiffany? I can’t open this, it’s too much.”
“Go on,” he urged as he placed your hand on top of the lid and gave it a squeeze. “Please, for me.”
Your fingers slipped twice as you tried to open the hinge and Lando’s hand enveloped yours, lifting it open to reveal the beautiful necklace within. The teardrop gemstone was the same shade as his eyes and it hung from a white gold chain that was polished to shine impossibly bright, even in the dim light. 
“Lando, it’s beautiful,” you whispered in awe as he lifted it up and stepped behind you to drape it around your neck. The weight of the stone settled in the centre of your chest and you turned to face him with a sincere, “Thank you.”
“So..?” He bit his lip as he showed you the empty box, a question written in the silk lining. “Will you be my girlfriend?”
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It wasn’t until the week after New Years that a glazier would be able to fix your doors. The holidays had left a backlog of people needing repairs but supply chains had been delayed too. Once the doors were finally fixed you realised the carpet was beyond repair and that took another week to have done.
It was strange to go back home after nearly three weeks of living in Lando’s apartment. It was too quiet.
“Babe, have you seen my hairbrush?” You had looked through the bathroom drawers he had cleared out for you to use but there was nothing left. You went back to your apartment and did another search but it wasn’t there either. It wasn’t the first thing you had lost going back and forth and you were beginning to worry.
“I’m sure it will turn up somewhere, love,” Lando said as he paused his game and turned to his friend in the simulator behind him. “Max probably used it.”
“Did not,” his friend replied with an indignant splutter. “Didn’t I see you singing into a hairbrush?”
“You’ve been experimenting with drugs again,” Lando snorted. With a resigned sigh, you decided your hair was decent enough to get away with at work and Lando tipped his head back so you could give him a kiss goodbye. “I’ll order dinner tonight. Chinese?”
“Sounds good,” you said as you gave Max a wave on the way to the door. “Try not to let him sit there all day, you know how his back gets.”
“Yes, yes, Lando has an old man’s back. I’ll make sure he moves his ass at some point,” Max joked. “Have fun at work.”
You screwed up your face at the sarcasm and their laughs followed you out of the apartment. You weren’t sure they had actually moved all day as they were still in the same spots when you got home. You had crossed paths with the delivery man in the lobby and your arms were laden with the takeaway Lando had ordered.
“How many spring rolls did you order?” you murmured as you kept unpacking more and more of the small styrofoam boxes with the treat.
“He’s going for a record,” Max said with a roll of his eyes. Ten minutes later Lando groaned, holding his stomach tightly. “I told you to stop.”
You had quickly showered and changed into some comfortable clothes and found most of the boxes empty when you joined them at the table. “How many has he had?”
“18, and he’s got no chance,” Max bet, reaching over to steal a spring roll for himself and swiping it through the sweet chilli sauce. “You’ll thank me later. Ah, fuck.” Max looked down at the red blotch on his white Quadrant shirt before sauntering off down the hall. “Mate, do you have any more stain remover? This one’s empty.”
“Yeah, under the sink there should be another bottle,” Lando yelled back, dropping his fork onto his plate in defeat. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”
“Why the hell do you have cat food?” Max appeared in the living room with the same brand of pet food you bought for your cat. 
“That’s not mine, obviously.”
You looked at Lando, who was rubbing his full stomach and as reclined back as much as the chair would allow. “It’s not mine.”
“You brought it over during the storm, remember?”
“No I didn’t.” You hadn’t wanted to disrupt Eddie’s routine and fed him at home each morning before work.
“Yes, you did.” He laughed as he tapped your temple gently. “You have a terrible memory, love. You can’t even remember where you left your hairbrush.”
You didn’t have an argument for that, since you still hadn’t found it. You were sure you hadn’t brought any cat food over, but maybe he was right. You did seem to be a little confused lately.
“I think I need an early night,” you admitted as you cleaned up the dishes. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“You’re not staying?” Lando asked with a pout as he joined you at the sink, wrapping his arms around your waist and peppered your neck with soft kisses. “Who am I going to cuddle with?”
“I’m sure Max wouldn’t mind a snuggle,” you teased him as you turned in his arms. “I have an early start tomorrow but I can stay tomorrow night.”
He groaned at the thought of sleeping alone and held you tighter so he could have you in his arms a little longer. “Fine,” he huffed, relinquishing his hold on you and filling the kettle. “I’ll make you a chamomile tea so you sleep better.”
You smiled at his sweetness and savoured a few more minutes of kisses before the water boiled and he scooped out a few spoons of some boutique tea leaf mix he swore was the best sleep tea money could buy. Given how rich he was, you believed him.
Placing the hot mug in your hand, he bit his swollen lip and nodded to the front door. “Go before I tie you to my bed and never let you leave.”
“You wouldn’t,” you laughed, rolling your eyes as he winked. “Goodnight, baby.”
“Goodnight, love, sweet dreams.”
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Something disturbed your sleep and you rubbed your eyes as you woke up well before your alarm. You reached for the lamp beside your bed and accidently knocked into the cup of tea you hadn’t finished before falling asleep, the cold liquid sloshing over the side before you caught it and froze. 
Your bedroom door creaked open but it was too dark to see who it was. Your heart hammered in your chest as you tried to think of what to do before the shadow reached the edge of your bed. Your throat was so clogged with fear you couldn’t even scream, your hands trembled and closed them into fists before banging on the wall behind you, begging Lando would wake up at the sound.
Bang, bang, bang.
The figure lunged onto the bed, pinning you down with their weight and slamming your fists into the mattress. “Shh, love, it’s me.”
You relaxed as Lando’s voice soothed you, but the fear soon crept back up your spine with an icy shiver. “How did you get in here?”
“You forgot to lock your door,” he whispered as your wrists began to ache from the hold he had. “I was coming to check in on you.”
“No, I didn’t,” you said as you tried to shake him off. “I know I locked it. I know…I…I’m not crazy. Get off me, get off me right now.”
“You were meant to be asleep, love,” he groaned as his hands tightened to the point a pained cry escaped your gritted teeth. 
“Why are you doing this?” you whimpered as he kissed your neck, but you couldn’t feel anything but repulsion. 
“You should have just moved in with me, we are meant to be together.”
“You’re crazy,” you spat as you tried to buck your hips and throw him off but he was too strong. “Help! Somebody, help!”
His hand clamped over your mouth and you bit him as hard as you could before kicking and climbing away. 
“I’m not the crazy one, that’s you, love,” he laughed. “You’re my girlfriend, you’re sick, but I’m going to take care of you, okay?”
“You are fucking insane!”
“No, no, sweetheart, I’m trying to help you, remember?” 
You froze in the doorway as you saw a cutout of your key on the kitchen bench, along with your hairbrush, phone, a negligee and dressing gown. All things you had been convinced you had lost in the last few weeks.
“Why are you doing this?” you repeated as you backed away from your boyfriend. He was someone you had trusted, someone you thought had fit perfectly into your new life - but he had been messing with you this whole time. Max and the cat food came to mind. “Eddie…he used to go to Mr Riley’s house.”
“Couldn’t have that,” Lando tutted with a shake of his head as he took a step closer, “not when he was going to help me get close to you.”
“Don’t! Don’t come any closer to me!”
“Baby, don’t be like that, let’s just go back to bed. You’re under a lot of stress, let me make you a chamomile tea.”
You swiped your phone up as you bolted but he was quicker and blocked the front door, holding his hand out. “Give that to me, you don’t want to do that.”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure I do,” you hissed as you started to dial the emergency number.
“It’s you they will take away,” he said with a blase shrug that made you pause. “Everyone knows how unstable you have become.”
“Me?” you shrieked.
“You’re barely holding it together now. They aren’t going to believe anything you say.” He opened his arms as if to say, I’m famous and you are no one. Unfortunately, he was right. “Come on, love, let’s go back to bed.”
He took the phone from your limp hand and locked it before slipping it into his pocket. You were so confused that you had no idea what to do when he guided you back to the bed, turning the sheets down before tucking you in gently. “I love you,” he whispered as he kissed your forehead and handed you the cold mug. “Drink up, baby, this is all just a bad dream.”
Click here for the next morning.
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samodivaa · 6 months
Text
Thrill me, Fulfill me
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You agreed to help for one mission—now you are both lustful and carnal, affected by sex pollen—you are flint, he is tinder.
Warnings - sex pollen, smut, rough/possessive sex, Hydra past, breeding kink, choking kink, multiple orgasms
Words - 8k
(the 3D render is for this fic, enjoy :3)
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The horizon tips on its side, and slowly, hour by hour, the day spills out and soon the night will spread its darkness—traveling through the countryside is a charming escape and in a chronicle of events, with the light of the days—you feel the light inside too, your human spirit wanders in thoughts as you sit on the BMW’s trunk with closed eyes. It is June, and the world smells of roses, moments like these leave a rich heritage of beautiful memories in their going—in a fortunate combination of delightful weather, Bucky and freedom—your soul feels at peace.
“I talked with Sam, he wants me to help him” There is an endearing nervousness in his voice “I was wondering if you would like to come with us”
In an instant, you reply with an annoyed face “No”
“No? Come on, you need people other than me in your life”
He scolds as he nests between your legs, fingers finding their way on both sides of your hips, drawing soft circles as they travel up towards your waist.
You arch an eyebrow at him, as if the answer is obvious “I don’t need others”
“You will love Sam, I told him about us, I mean-about us living together”
“You did, why?” you clip your words, hissing them into his face as you give a wide-eyed, searching look.
“I used to invite him over to my apartment, he started wondering why I stopped. I wanted him to know anyways”
“What else did you tell him?” you look at him with an arrested expression. His smile fades, and he finds himself staring into your eyes “James?”
It is only a brief moment, but you catch his blink of surprise at your demanding tone before he offers a tentative smile.
“I-I told him about your connections and he was hoping that-” he trails off quietly and you notice a tightness around his mouth and a dimness to his usually bright eyes.
You regard him thoughtfully and he sees the comprehension dawning in your eyes. You know exactly what he is asking.
“Did you miss the part of how I built them?” you ask, your voice dripping with sarcasm.
He huffs in annoyance “Well no, but don’t worry-”
“Oh, hey Sam, I am another brainwashed assassin and when I escaped I did it willingly, for money, nice to meet you by the way”
“I get it, but you are changi-”
You snap, pinching your eyebrows close together.
“And this is my former partner who I used to occasionally fuck at Hydra and now that we have reconnected, we are fucking and living together”
“Anything else you want to add?” 
“No, that's all” you finish bitterly, furious with him for letting Sam know so much about you.
“He already met you once in Madripoor, he knows about your past. Trust me, he is a good person, he accepted me”
You let out a hollow laugh
“I am not Captain America’s best friend, James. I am nobody, I don’t even have a legal identity”
You explain in a humorous yet deprecating tone, staring into space.
“Look at me, you need to trust me” he coos, his blue eyes have a doorway to your heart, the place where his care for you resides “I know that you are scared, but you need other people in your life”
It's the caring that he lovingly gives, the passion that he shows—that convinces you every time.
“If I break your heart, I break mine, darling”
Shifting your mouth from a frown into a light-hearted smile, you let out a small chuckle from underneath your breath. His metal hand rests on the small of your back, in that sweet spot that makes you feel feminine and protected—vanity, fear, uncertainty—all such distortions within your own ego—condition you to stay silent about your own feelings. Your programmed mind-pattern still needs to heal, all you need is time, you will get there eventually.
You kiss him on the cheek, which kind of surprises him.
“Хубаво, ще дойда” (Okay, I will come)
His gaze flickers up to your eyes and he can detect no deceit, no mockery. 
There are many circumstances that lead to arrogance: one is when you're wrong and you can't face it—but you decide to face it this time, because you know that your brain relies on the familiar. It is reluctant to experience the unknown, which is the very essence of your human life.
The past should have no power over the present, but it still does sometimes—anger and death are deeply rooted, your emotional thermostat is broken. Everything in you is broken—you view yourself as pieces and Bucky somehow sees you as a whole.
Inside, your soul was so cold that you hated everything. You even despised the sun, for you knew you would never be able to play in its warm presence—you were condemned to stick to the past, working as a hitman for years. Everything changed when Bucky decided to track you down. You knew he was spying on you, because you made it easier for him.
You were afraid of the aloneness that you trusted for so long, but that is the truth that you still store in the granary of your mind. Maybe you will tell him one day. Maybe one day you will let him know that he helps you abandon your corporeal prison.
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"Я просто люблю запах страха" (I just love the smell of fear) you whisper—a knife-wielding lunatic.
You face the attackers in a kind of instantaneous flash and see the disconsolate eyes, which remain stamped on your heart like the hot coals of fear, the power of death is then borne out by you—the queen at the bloody carnival, not afraid to spill blood while Bucky tries to prevent hurting, killing people at all cost.
It is easy when you work together, just as in the past—but he is holding back, you are not used to seeing him fight so carefully—Winter’s brutality is non-existent.
You sigh as the last man drops dead to the ground. With a knife in his chest. Or, rather, a pair of knives in the chest.
Yes, you helped them locate the rumored Hydra base, but Bucky’s intense paleness on his face shows regret, because you still don’t mind killing—you give him a pitying smile when your eyes meet before your system is poisoned with something.
It is such a tumultuous and intemperate invasion that you forget why you are here. And then your eyes meet again, there is fascination in his gaze, menaced by some invisible danger, and you want to succumb the terrible desire to weep when you realize what it is and you look at the mysterious trembling of your hands—your gaze goes up, but Bucky is nowhere to be seen.
He knows he has to go somewhere, he heads back to the apartment and he has feelings of sorrow, regret, directionless rage, a broad feeling of impotence. The horror of this misfortune penetrates Bucky so deeply that he is close to a panic attack—as if reliving the nightmare he sometimes has—Hydra giving him the pollen back in 1990.
He wanders all through the rooms as if walking in his sleep, chewing on his quiet rage.
He knows the theoretical mechanics of the pollen and he can barely stay on his feet because of the weakness of his knees, his skin is burning and he can’t resist the urgent need to palm himself through his pants—it starts slow and will go progressively worse. 
He rubs his hand over his scalp, where his long hair used to be—now shaved very close to his head and bristling against his fingers, he lowers his blue eerily crystalline eyes before closing them. He feels like he should be crying, but he couldn’t summon the tears.
—it’s all his fault. Why did he need to come to your apartment a year ago, on a beautiful August’s evening?
„I knеw that we were following me, Soldat,“ you loudly acknowledge him, drawing out the derogatory term while your back is turned to him.
Stillness wraps Bucky up in a cold embrace, a chill running down his body as he hears you speak. On the string spun of your angel voice, grief and pain drowns him. The tone drawn from memory in his dreams it’s the same, unblinking, robotic as you offer him one spare look before focusing on cutting vegetables on the wooden board.
He exhales, then he slowly enters the apartment. „It is not Soldat, it’s Sergeant now“ his breath hitches and he stops as soon as he enters the room.
There is a crack in his stoic expression, excruciating memories flooding his mind. He knew that somewhere, some day, maybe at a less miserable time, you may see each other again, but he couldn't wait any longer.
The memories are still in his mind and the pain—too ripe in his heart. The more deeply he felt, the less he was able to breath, thinking of grief, and of getting past it.
That's why he came. He needs you in more ways that he wants to confess.
„Oh? What do you want, Barnes?“ your face is carefully blank.
„I wanted to talk to you“ he starts, taking a couple of steps towards.
Shadows lick up the side of his cheekbones, making his skin gold as he slowly walks to the opposite side of the kitchen island, you hear him move the wooden seating.
„And you couldn’t just-I don’t know…have knocked on the door?“
„Sorry, I didn’t know how to-“
He says, a tremor makes his voice uneven. Bucky takes in a deep breath to balance out the embarrassment thrumming through him.
„It is easier to be loyal to past habits, can’t blame you“ you murmur, voice perfectly respectful as you think about it with a heavy heart.
You said it as a matter of fact, without the scorn and mockery, but as an accepted truth before placing the knife you have been using, on the cutting board and finally facing him completely as you step closer to the island as well, leaning forward on your elbows.
But the wintery feeling of the pollen is already clouding the pond, frosting the pane, obscuring that summer's memory of meeting you.
The memory played in his head, with a hopeless nostalgia that he was completely disoriented—he doesn't care if you are heartless, vicious and vulgar, stupid, grasping with incurable programming and mental problems, he enjoys spending time with you. He would rather have misery with you than happiness with any other person, because it is shared, you have a deep and silent understanding.
He was so happy when you suggested living together four months ago—he was okay with the sleepovers at each other's apartments—never was bothered with the need to rush your companionship.
The key to personal development lies in the daily routine—creating new memories with you stretches out psychological time, and lengthens his perception of both your and Bucky’s lives. When he wakes up from a nightmare he is so relieved, because he wakes to a dream, he enjoys the miracle of living with each other as much at the table as in bed.
Bucky finally lays on the bed, his head aches. He admits that he is still human, vulnerable, and sensitive—but he begins to remember how it had been when Hydra gave him the pollen and his self revolted at this, hates himself for not being able to fight it, hates himself for bringing you here.
He is sick with conflict, destructive emotions festeres in him while this sludge eats away at his insides and Bucky is acutely conscious of the swift passage of time, it will make him become blunt and callous—there is a certain clinical satisfaction in seeing just how bad things can get for him, but maybe this is what he deserves.
When you push open the bedroom door, you can’t prevent it from scraping against the uneven floor. Suddenly, in the absolute darkness of his mind, Bucky is brought back to reality. He is not surprised, for without knowing, he has been expecting you to come.
You close the door behind you as he stands up on his elbows—wondering why are you such a stubborn, blind, obtuse woman—why are you here?
Your scent carries across the room and paralyzes him with longing.
“Stay away, why did you fucking follow me?”
You stop in shock at the words he utters—they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless.
He is vulnerable, slightly paranoid. Although his voice is broken by uncertainty and his hands seem to doubt the existence of things—he tries to appear composed.
You can feel his eyes traveling up your whole body, staying on your side for a split second before moving up to meet your gaze.
“James, we don’t have another choice, we don’t have time”
You can't blame him—he is scared, scared and frozen, afraid of what he can do to you...the old primitive urge for sex. It's getting harder to control it with every passing minute—every second is lived with terrible intensity. It all flows over you with a screaming ache of pain—as you see him, the need grows even faster...and all you can do is remember and feel—the effects of the pollen—like a disease of the blood, dispersing throughout the body.
He looks like a bundle of past recollections, knotted up in a bundle of flesh.You remember what his flesh has gone through—but you also remember what he put you through that day. You feel the naked fear, the urge of self-preservation, you appear solid in front of him, but you are mimicking nothingness.
“God, I smell you. So hot and sweet”
The blank hell in the back of his mind starts to break through, spewing forth like a dark pestilence, the pollen eats away the pith of his humanity—the chaotic words pour out of his mouth as he gets up from the bed and you self-paralyze, your back hits the door—but this is the only way that will pull you both out of the plunge of—pain, need.
Your sexual attraction to him has been heightened beyond measure, as much as you try to bury it deep down in fear, the lust is getting greater than any other feeling or emotion. Every part of him is heightened to you now...his voice included.
He stops in front of you, belatedly realizing where his feet have carried him. There is no glamor, no attempt to hide it, nothing: his need taking slowly over all his senses. The unwelcomed bubble of intrusive lust, sinking into an even more heavily occluded state—you feel it too as he molds his front to yours and pins your breasts against his chest.
You are mesmerized by the tiny flecks of indigo in his blue eyes—you can drown in those eyes and it wouldn’t be the worst way to go. His beautiful features offer themselves to your gaze as you trail through them, annoyed at how attractive he looks—putting your mind into a darker cloud of irritation, waiting for him to do whatever he wants.
You feel stuffy, there is not enough air to breathe as he cages you against the door, his consciousness already vanishing and deforms itself in something primal, there is a delicious animal fire in his gaze.
“I want to taste you so desperately, it rages through me-fuck, fuck this-I want to fuck you”
His eyes are growing moist with indignation, with angry impotence, he is barely controlling himself. It is the natural sequel of an unnatural beginning— it’s hard—but not harder than his cock.
“Do it, come on” you gasp out.
“If you don’t get out of here, you know what will happen”
He explains weakly, and when you say nothing, he grabs your waist with both hands, vision already blurring. His bones fill up with foam, a languid fear, and a terrible desire.
Bucky’s control dies a slow death, shedding layers like leaves until—there will be none—he tends to be particularly rough, aggressive and possessive when given the pollen. You remember the feeling of possessiveness he had as the Winter Soldier over you, so intense it transformed into an obsession over your body.
“I'm not leaving, I need this as much as you” you say, tremulous with longing.
Bucky stares at your mouth as you speak—it looks provocative to him when you talk.
“Enough, dammit, leave”
His voice tightens, it pierces your soul—half agony, half lust.
You still have the choice of running away and finding someone else to do it, but leaving Bucky behind—you know there is not a girl in the world that can handle him, no one else has the serum, but you—your brain is ricocheting in between. It all drifts to the periphery of the mind when you meet Bucky’s eyes.
“It’s normal-” you say haltingly, your expression turns guarded.
He is livid, a sad look on his face
“We are not normal” he interrupts with a soft firmness “It’s insane to pretend we are”
You are both aware. Catastrophically aware.
“Stop talking, we’ve been through that once-”
and you look so well-equipped for this that is seems abnormal to Bucky, he is conquered by the obstinacy of you—so docile and willing to help—he wants to be emancipated for the moment from the torment of the pollen, but the guilt is still eating him.
“Do you remember the year it happened?”
"You always ask me whether I remember the stupid years, lets just-” you say with a shrug.
"It matters, it matters to me. I hate that you remember, I hate myself for what I've done to you” He explains, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear with his human hand.
"James” you whisper his name tremulously “I don’t blame you for anything”
His pain is paramount and you want it to end. His pain, his guilt. You are willing to suffer for the rest of your night so that he can take the easy way out of his needs. You admit it to yourself, without bitterness—you need to sacrifice dearly on behalf of Bucky. 
“I’ll lose control” What you cannot forgive is dishonesty—you would rather know the hideously unflattering truth of his devastating visions than foul evasions “If you try to run now, I will probably chase you down anyways”
With all that waiting you have lost the strength of your legs, the firmness of your breasts, your tenderness look—barely keeping your heart intact. Maddened by that prodigious talking, you shamelessly groan, closing your eyes.
“This is bad,” you whimper “Oh God, this is bad. Please, do something”
The next critical manifestation: the unbearable pain.
“Snezinka-” (snowflake)
“Stay with me” your eyes shone “Play with me, please” like those of a cat.
In that state of hallucinated lucidity—you just can’t take it anymore. Presently the need grows stronger, hesitating then no longer. The attempts to conceal the pollen’s effects don't work anymore.
“At least…give me permission this time” Bucky shakes his head, sadness vibrating through his body as he speaks through clenched teeth.
“Yes, do whatever you want” you moan, shaking, desperate for his touch.
And then you see something possessive wash over him, making your body shiver in anticipation.
“Please, I need yo-”
You say, nodding at the soul-reaching blue crystals, not looking away from him, but Bucky doesn’t let you finish as he kisses you. His lips are warm, his body is heat and muscles against you. He kisses you like a tide, gentle at first, but with the ability to drown, his fingers digging into your waist, urging you ever-nearer to him, even when it’s physically impossible to be. Then his fingers slithers over your chest, hands immediately find your breasts and he starts to massage them for his own pleasure.
His fingers curl around the edges of your soaked blood shirt, pulling and eventually tearing it away from your skin.
There is lust and there is pain, a whirling wheel—not stopping.
He wastes no time, kissing you deeply again, already missing the feeling of your skin.
“I am yours, you know that”
A simple reply, his voice cut into you like glass, his words bleeding into your skin. It isn’t something to be argued against, it’s the truth and you acknowledge that. It’s ridiculous, absurdly sentimental to think that you managed to lay a claim on him like you did in the past. 
You are trying to think of something, coming up short when he presses his hips flush against yours again, the chest harness wrinkling under the tight grip of your fists, pulling him and he hems you up against the door, grinding his cock against you. You slide one hand downwards, wrapping around his hard manhood and squeeze, Bucky moans quietly and involuntarily rolls into the contact, desperately seeking relief.
“Fuck” he says, a bit too breathlessly.
„James-this is not enough“ you undulate your hips against the aching bulge.
His name falling on his ears like that sent chills down his spine, he can hear the beat of his heart, his palms belong on your skin as he closes the gap between you. Nothing is sweeter, nothing else than you—lust is spreading like quickfire in his veins, groaning in the kiss.
“I know, I know” he whispers, a hint of exasperation and affront in his tone, leaning forwards to kiss you yet again, teasingly licking at your lips as he pulls away.
Sexual perversions mix with guilt and adrenaline as his mind sees in scattered images of varying vulgarity. Bucky grips your waist and lifts you off the ground with ease, dropping you softly on the luxurious white linen bed.
You lick your lips, trying to quench the thirst for him. Your throat is dry as you watch him between your spread legs—his belt clattering noisily as he unbuckles it, popping the buttons of his jeans open, followed by the low purr of his zipper coming undone, he drifts his hands down his sides and hooks both thumbs into his jeans, sliding them and the boxers down his legs. The corners of his mouth curve upward when he notices you staring a moment too long as he removes his jacket and shirt.
You remove your own pants and then you spread your legs open, positioned right in front of his standing body—one hand toys with your breast through the bra while the fingers of the other hook in your panties and drags them down your legs fast before throwing them in his direction.
His breath stutters as he catches them with his metal arm, becoming more and more aroused with every beat of his heart that runs down his shaft. It’s becoming more painful. He starts to pump his cock, the veins bulging beneath his grip—even in his large hand, it looks intimidating, the veins in his neck tightening.
He’s quite tall with broad shoulders and an athletic physique that even his leather jacket cannot hide. Your eyes continue their upward travel to his strong square-shaped face framed with short brown hair that falls to his shoulders and deep, blue eyes. 
He then craws on top of you and he cannot articulate a word, capable only of an animal sound, a strangulated wheeze that shocks him deeply, enraging him, this sudden loss of the faculty of speech that feels somehow bestial and forgotten now.
It is the impatience of the way he tears your bra from your body that really scares you: the pollen getting the better of him and you spread your legs wide, exposing your overall and the fragrance of the essences permits in the air, he smells it.
His cock nudges around your sleek mound until he gasps as he guides his sticky cockhead glides through your delicate folds. He doesn’t say anything as he slips inside you, burying himself to the hilt.
Sex with you this time is different, he has never felt this dominant, this claiming, this selfish. He is so far in that his balls are right against your pussy lips.
His greedy lips are once again on your skin, devouring everything he can—licking, sucking, and kissing, not holding back his throaty moans. He drags his lips up your throat, along your jaw, back toward your mouth. His lips are usually gentle and loving, promising long days and summer forever—but they soon turn sharp, peppermint, winter.
Animal logic. Prey. Predator… teeth dragging against your neck, living marks. The primal lust, the sheer need to claim you, quickly finding ways to express his sacred hunger to you in animal passion. He snarls out gluttonous groans against your skin as you clench and seize, pounding you harder as your body contracts. Pleasure breaks out like a wildfire, reaching around your temples; shooting up and down your spine.
You're perfect when you're underneath him, it's where you belong, beautiful face and pretty wide eyes locked onto his powder-blue orbits—curves cushioning him, your obedient body lush, muscular, but still feminine, your eyes flashing—and all he wants is to ruin you.
It's a sinful sight each time he buries the length of his cock all the way inside you, shaft slick and wet and glistening when he pulls it out. You make the prettiest noises when he shoves in deep only to pull out and slam himself back inside, you've got the prettiest expression as he grips your legs and folds them up to fuck his dick into you even harder than before.
“Don’t stop, don’t, please”
There is something raw and pleading in your voice that surpasses sexual desire, these fleeting moments of carnal craving.
He continues to trail his lips down the front of your throat and you realize that he is mouthing words against your skin “Mine. Mine. Mine”
“You feel so good every time, snezinka” he murmurs at your ear as slide to your throat and he tightens his grip on both sides on your neck, reducing the blood and oxygen to the brain. When he loosens, the rush of blood and oxygen to the brain results in an explosion of dopamine, followed by a shamelessly loud moan from your lips “I think that I love you”
“We’re drugged. That’s why,” you gaspe “Did you forget?”
Bucky acknowledges your words, they sink into him—he focuses his attention on your skin. He nibbles at your earlobe, loving the sharp intake of your breath, skin breaks out into a pale sweat and your eyes fill with tears. His trusts are ruthless.
“There is no pleasure as good as the feel of your pretty cunt wrapped around me” a dark edge creeps into his tone.
He says as he fills out pounds you, drawing a muffled scream from your throat as he starts to thrust more rapidly, setting a demanding rhythm.
Something strange starts to rage inside him, hearing you inhale sharply as he continues to kiss and bite your neck, leaving bruises deliberately and as he fucks you deeper, wanting to mark you in an entirely different way—he wants to breed you.
And you know you will wear the bruises of Bucky’s hands as you wear the scars of Soldat.
All extremes of the pollen are allied with madness, finally consuming his brain and body.
“You are so beautiful”
He says into your skin, tears welling, confused, mingling in his throat. Old wounds never truly heal, your past will never fully heal anyways. That one tear, that tiny, salty, droplet of moisture is a means of expression—joy, and torment. Although it's just a small tear, it is the heaviest thing in the world. And it doesn't do a damn thing to fix anything in this situation.
“James-” your whole body exhaled a lugubrious lament, your heart breaks for him.
His eyes are always soulful, in some way; they seem to say things that you know he's probably never say out loud.
“I know baby, I know,” he nibbles on the side of your neck “You are so beautiful, I am sorry-so sorry, I can’t stop” his growls erupt from his chest, the primal noise flooding your senses, making your insides clench around his length “I need this, I need you”
You’re powerless…utterly at his mercy and that’s what makes you cum—his voice sends shudders through your body, reacting in all the right ways to the words. The orgasm has gutted your vocal chords, and all you manage is a small gasp, tears slipping down the old salty trails as he doesn’t stop, his head lulling on your shoulder.
He leans down, nose brushing against yours as he pants, thrusts never faltering, his mouth hangs open with bliss, his cock plunging into you with skin-slapping speed and he finally reaches his orgasm, cock spurting a thick dollop of cum with each throb. He closes his eyes, because of the volcanic eruptions of fever still goes through his body—his orgasm is long, raw, reaching all his body senses.
Sex is unthinkable without roughness tonight—he is already thinking about his second orgasm—should he just cum in your mouth when he makes you fall to your knees… or if he should take you by the hair before he’s finished and fuck you into a sobbing heap before blowing his load. Of the few times Soldat has face fucked you—gagging you to near vomiting—you’ve never miss a drop of cum. He remembers it.
His hand closes around your throat and the grip tightens, slowly cutting into your skin while cutting off oxygen. It is more painful than lethal, but more erotic than painful. Your head is spinning, ears are ringing—suddenly, without warning, he withdraws completely, leaving you coughing and gasping for air. As you try to catch your breath, you feel him get up from the bed which urges you to come back to your senses faster.
In his temporary madness, an idea comes to his mind.
In seconds, he is back on top and when your vision finally clears—his lusty orbs descend to your cheeks, detailing your skin before leaning in to lick off your tears—some form of mercy which you don’t need.
He is now in that state of fire that excites you. You want to be burnt.
His eyes drift leisurely back up to your face and he smiles, nova-flare eyes blazing into your own—you look for love hiding in his eyes, in his face, and you find nothing but possessiveness.
But something is not right.
His eyes are cold and dark.And your heart stops.
He is taking you over. Staking a claim.
He slowly thrusts his hips forward, his cock pressing into your front, earning a squeal from you as he ruts back and forth dragging his length across your opening and then slowly plunges into you. You exhale, trembling as you feel the tip pressing against your opening and penetrating you. He is mesmerized by the sight of his cock disappearing inside of you, filling you up to the brim.
Bucky brings both of your wrists above your head and grips them in his metal arm, restraining you from moving them—and you tremble like a downy rabbit caught in the clutches of a wolf—he seizes you as boldly as Soldat used to capture his favorite prey—you—in the past.
A flash blinds you for a moment and you see him holding his phone—this feels surreal—leaving you breathless with an inexpressible delight of it. Bucky’s inner voice of lust speaks, it is so spontaneous and unannounced. Your mind searches for the logical thought of his action.
“Fuck, I can cum just by looking at it” He musters his primest tone, throwing the device to the side.
You whimper as your abdomen contracted painfully around his hard length at his words. He lets his fingers release your hands as his cold digits swipes back the hair from your face. Cursing, he grips the back of your neck and brings your lips to his while the metal ones grip your hip so tightly you are sure he’d leave a bruise. You whimper as he starts to fuck you, slamming you into the matress.
The usual warmth of his hands is not there. They chill your skin as they hold you close to his body, and you realize he is scared. The extreme joy mixes with the bone-crushing grief—what if you don’t want to be around him after this night? What if you condemn him, consider it with high and unjust resentment and leave him? It pierces his soul, but he can’t stop��he is half agony, half animal...the past beats inside like a second heart now.
Your soft fingers trail his face and continue to attempt a connection that he refuses to acknowledge at first—the past slips and vanishes like sand between the warm touch of your fingers, acquiring material weight, only in its recollection, because the more shared past there is in any relationship, the more present you need to be for each other.
“Let go," you whisper and he loosens the grips—he is ashamed of holding you so tightly "No, not of me," you say smiling.
You look right into his eyes, right into him as far as you can see, because you want him to hear you, you want him to hear you with everything you say—and his chest tightens as if some euphoric drug has gone straight to his nervous system—but it is not the pollen, it is you—reassuring him, leaving a psychic imprint in his mind.
It’s both a blessing and a curse to share the same trauma. And even though you are sometimes harsh, restless and despairing—he is your weak spot, you love him in your own way.
"You can hold on to me as long as you want. Let go of the past, let go of the pain" you say, giving him permission, taking him into your flesh, a clear invitation to madness.
Emotions clamp down on his heart, but he stays terribly silent. Bucky says nothing after that, only your name, as if your name is not a name but a question. He shakes his head and kisses you, long and quiet.
He grabs your jaw in one hand forcing you to look at him, tears coursing down your cheeks as he thrusts into you, making low, growling noises in his throat—a predator purring with pleasure while it devours its prey, picking up a brutal pace once again. Your legs tighten around his waist, hooking over his hip bones as he practically folds you in half, nails digging into his back, surely breaking his skin with your manicured fingers.
He groans at the pain and removes your hands, intertwines his fingers with yours, pins your wrists flat to the mattress on either side of your head. He holds himself up over your body as he fucks into you, supporting his weight on his forearms. His cock is slamming into you, balls bouncing against your clit just right, the sight of his well-muscled body, covered in a thin layer of sweat, invites you to utter depravity, it is what drives you over the edge.
“You look so good taking all of me” he pants against your throat “I will fill you again-so good”
Hard, long, deep trust that forces moans out of both of you.
You whimper and nod dumbly, screw your eyes tight as another wave of pleasure spread throughout your body in orgasmic tingles as he pulls his own climax with you. He presses his face against your neck as his hips lose any and all sense of tempo and when he finally stills, he holds himself deep inside as he leans back—with every breath, your bust heaves, sweat droplets running between them and attracting his gaze.
It pollutes his mind even more, it cripples his morality, because he is infatuated with fucking you like this again—is it the pollen at this point? 
''Bear with me'' He murmurs, gritting his teeth ''I need…more” his cock slowly sliding out of your tight pussy before sliding back inside with equal slowness, sliding through copious amounts of thin lubrication and cum. Your legs wrap around his waist and prevent him from pulling out even if he wants to—your understanding, your willingness is a kind of ecstasy to him.
The blue moons in his eyes are glimmering with an emotion you can’t put your finger on. What is he thinking about?
A part of him cares about you.
But there’s a depravity in his mind right now that enjoys seeing you like this—your hair is in disarray, several tendrils scattered across your face and constricting your view of him, sweat pricks at your hairline and down your back. There is something unmistakably exultant in turning you into a mess—such a mess of cum and tears. Gently, he brushes the tendrils out of your face, tenderness in his touch—that’s the part of him that cares.
“I need you on the floor, on all fours” —that's the part of him that's deprived tonight.
You can feel the desire. The thirst. The absolute beast threatening to tear from his skin.
Soldat loved to fuck you against solid ground. He never truly left, sometimes Bucky is on the verge of cracking and showing the color of the thing beneath, but you don’t mind, you are not scared, you never were. 
All he wants is for you to be filled, marked, bruised from staying up all night, taking his cock into your body until you are depleted of all your strength. Even then, he will fuck you. He doesn’t say more, but he groans as he gets up—what a sinful twist of his lips, watching you slowly get up, your legs are incapable of supporting your weight much longer.
Your cunt hurts, too—you feel his cum dripping down your thighs, making yourself position in doggy style, legs winched apart, everything exposed to his view and he goes to stand on knees behind you, eagerly holding up his cock then he lines up your hole. He twists your hair around his fist and yanks your head back, at the same time thrusting into you from behind as his fingers slide to dig into your ass. 
Bucky grunts as he slams into you “Я без ума от тебя” (I'm mad about you) his balls slapping against the sensitive nub. You choke on your words, this angle allowing him in far deeper than before. You arch your back more and dig your nails into the floor, clawing at the dirty ground as he relentlessly pounds into you. Sweat drips down his neck as he watches himself entering and exiting you.
He grips your hips tightly, slamming into your snatch with ferocity. A wave of pleasure suddenly overwhelms you, and the tingling is growing stronger once more.
“Я предан тебе…ты моя девочка”(im devoted to you)...(You are my girl)
You can only mewl and gasp as you are rocked back and forth on your knees, losing your breath every time his cock hammers into your cunt. You clench around him when you hear your full name spoken in his gravelly tenor.
He molds his front to your back, spearing through your tightening pussy. He grabs your hair and snaps your head back roughly before it travels down around your throat and squeezes tight while his other palm splays across your stomach.
His lips rests on the back of your shoulder, hissing
“Очевидно, что , нас чувства друк к други” (You can’t deny what's between us)
He carries on rutting you like an animal. Your skin slapping together, your pussy squirting around his cock as it invades your snatch repeatedly, making suction squelching noises with every thrust in of his length. It keeps on hitting your cervix, your nubile breasts swing with the force of your body rocking—you know that you will be sore later.
"You fill my heart, I fill your cunt"
But his words strike every inside your body and his honesty brings the euphoria of complete surrender.
“Enough, stop, it is too much”
You plea and nearly asphyxiate on the words as your orgasm bursts upwards from your abused cunt. A sob wracks your throat and he continues thrusting, riding your orgasm until your entire body is convulsing and you are desperately trying to wiggle out of Bucky’s arms with the last of your strength, but it's not enough compared to the strength of his arms holding your hips with renewed vigor, determined to breed you.
You catch sight of him from your peripheral vision, his eyes closed, his lips are silent, but he chatters with his fingertips, with the way his hands grip your hips, fingers digging in, the way he fucks you. And you thought that he chose that position, because he was embarrassed, but he was not—he wanted to disguise from you how much he was enjoying himself.
You have the strength to kill him, but here you are—so obedient.
His little submissive.
His expression is dreamy, floating. Soaked in pleasure—breathless, possessed, lost in the volcanic eruptions of fever, lust and delight. Your pussy cradles around his dick as he pounds into you from behind.
“James” 
His name on your lips sooth a place deep inside him, and the urgent need to hear it in again pulses in his heart, making himself guilty of such a secret, he must perforce hold it—
—but he shamelessly let out a loud moan, he never felt so out of control. You are a disease worse than the pollen itself.
“Bucky” 
That makes him groan like an animal, noises coming out of him that you never heard before, he was never this vocal. The groans are desperate, endless, but the sound of his name is unspeakably erotic to him. He can’t get enough of this. He will die without it, without you.
“You look too pretty when you’re getting fucked like that” he blurts out, without even thinking.
There is already a fissure in his mind and madness just rushes through. Praising him puts him on edge, it’s something he never thought he wanted or needed. You wreak havoc on his life.
He squeezes his eyes shut—to utilize the entire spectrum of the other senses, moans of ecstasy crescendos and his breaths come in short instances, each with a slight pause in between as his body is rack with his orgasm, cum is flooding out of your cunt, dripping of you onto the hardwood floor and there is a charm about it that makes it unspeakably desirable for Bucky.
In this stillness, he finally finds serenity. 
All you want to do is crawl back beneath the mound blankets—he gently picks you up and you smile crookedly at him, something about your smile loosening a knot in his chest, because holding you in his arms is more natural to him than his own heartbeat.
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Morning came in through the blinds cutting everything into ribbons, but the light can make the most vulgar things tolerable—you are aware of the aching hips, and your whole body hurts like hell as if you have been run over by a train.
Bucky steps out of the bathroom, freshly showered with a white towel around his lean hips. He takes a half step toward the bed, and his jaw works for a moment before he asks
“How are you feeling?”
“Tired, did you tell Sam what happened?”
“No, of course not. He is thankful that you helped us” He says and rakes his fingers through his damp hair, making it stand on end “He invited us to Louisiana”
You barely resists smiling at him “Okay”
He raises a brow “Just like that, okay?”
“If you give me my bracelet back”
You both look at the bracelet around his right hand. Then he bites his lip as he grins.
“Not happening” he says, his tone flattening and he can't help the smirk that tips up the corners of his mouth.
“Guess I need to buy a new one then” You peel back the covers, indicating for him to get in and you watch him climb next to you “With your name on it”
His palm reaches up to wrap around the back of your head, his fingers tangling in the depths of your hair, pulling you closer, his lips hovering over yours. Everything about him pleases you.
Not just his looks, but his patience and his kindness. He is an obsession waiting to happen. Kissing him is terrifying, breathing the same air makes your knees weak, a liquid sensation swooping throughout your stomach—but you've been betrayed, stabbed by every single person in your life, the body heals, but it injures the heart and the wound lasts a lifetime. You are scared of love, scared of these new feelings, scared of trusting anyone, but you are trying—that’s why you gently press a kiss to his mouth.
(Her kisses are deliberate and polished. When she kisses me—she doesn't want me. She has me and knows it.)
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Bucky throws himself onto the couch next to Sam, slewing his eyes over to him.
"So you are sleeping and living together, but you are still not in a relationship?"
He takes a long sip of his drink when he hears the words, tips his head back against the couch, and decides he could…maybe live with that.
"Yeah"
Sam’s lips tighten to suppress a smile "That's a bit weird, Buck"
He chuckles, low under his breath "The part where I live with my ex-coworker or the part where we sleep together?"
James takes a deep breath, and Sam can see his blue eyes searching for his, like he is looking for an answer.
”Maybe it is what it's meant to be for now” A frown settles on Bucky’s face as he considers that “She has a lot to experience, too. If you pressure her with anything, you might lose her completely”
“I don't want to be in love, but she is making me, Sam” he sighs, a headache blooming right between his eyes. He rubs at the spot, stalling as he tries to figure out what he wants to say “But you are right, she needs to heal”
Several emotions swirl in Sam’s eyes. Worry, sadness, maybe even intrigue. But not judgment. Never. “Did she agree to go to Wakanda?”
He wets his dry lips and says the most basic truth:
“No, she is too untrustworthy, I can’t believe she even agreed to come here”
Sam sees it as hope—and he wants to put that light within his friend, too “But she did”
They can’t talk about it anymore, not when they hear you, Sarah and the kids coming back, and when your gazes meet, your soft smile and the look in your eyes, they are the best interpreter of your mind—you are truly happy, seeing you like that makes him feel like he can single-handedly vanquish an army.
He has outlasted all family, desires, dreams, his grief alone is left entire—sometimes visiting the lonely desolation of nightmares, they are gleamings of his empty heart—Bucky is a heap of ashes, but meeting you—kindled him back into fire.
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Oh my goshhh thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed this project!
More of this ex!Asset AU? - MASTERLIST
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apollosfavkiddo · 11 days
Text
⛧° sleepy nights - hoo boys
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⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧
content: percy jackson, jason grace, leo valdez, frank zhang, luke castellan, charles beckendorf x reader - hcs on how they’d sleep with you
warnings: luke and charlie are 19
a/n: SHE’S BAAAACKK!! i’m finally not sick anymore (very questionable, but i’m definitely better) so i’m back to writing! at least i hope so. you can send your requests, preferably of not so long stuff cause i already have 5 super long drafts lol
⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧
now playing… sweater weather - the neighborhood
Percy Jackson
i honestly believe that he’s an awesome cuddler.
like, i just know that he likes to be the big spoon and wrap his arms around your waist and never EVER let go.
he’d totally lay his head on your shoulder and drool on it.
he plants a lot of tiny little kisses in your neck before you fall asleep.
i like to believe that he snores
but not like super loud snores and they’re not even annoying
its just super cute
and you feel so safe
he’s not super ripped, but he still has abs
so just leaning against them, warm in the night is just so soothing
he sleeps in two positions only, cuddling with you or as a starfish, with legs and arms thrown all over you and the bed
his body is naturally warm
not an uncommon warm, just normal warm
so sleeping with him is always good
whenever you sleep with him, he doesn’t want to get up to school/college the next day
he’s just too comfy to want to let go of you
and, subconsciously, he likes to trace patterns all over the exposed skin of your stomach
overall, a great person to sleep with
Jason Grace
my personal favorite for, uh, unrelated reasons
totally not because he’s literally my dream man no no
but hear me out, you won’t regret it
he’s canonically tall and muscular right
so just imagine resting against his delicious muscular chest and abs-
sorry i trailed off
ANYWAYS
he’s also a cuddler
but he’s kind of stiff in the beginning
like he’s completely touch starved
so he doesn’t really know how to act in situations like this
but the more you’re together the more he feels comfortable to cuddle and squeeze you
he loves to just pull you as close to himself as he can and bury his nose on your hair
because you just smell to good to not do that
he’s also a sweet talker
he just LOVES to whisper cute words in your ear as you’re about to fall asleep
and the first time he told you he loved you was one of these times
you were almost falling asleep in his arms and he just whispered “i love you”
you couldn’t even understand what happened until the next morning
anyways
he is the best person to sleep with
he absolutely loves when you just curl up in a ball beside him while he’s reading
he gets all fuzzy inside
he’s literally melting
he just loves you too much
Leo Valdez
look, don’t get me wrong, i love leo
but i don’t think he’d be the best cuddler in the world
for the simple reason that i think so
if u don’t like it just sush
BUT he absolutely loves to sleep on top of you with his head in your chest
i just know it
this is like super Leo Valdez of him
and you can’t tell me he doesn’t purr when you caress his hair
cause OF COURSE he does that
he’s the best person to sleep with in winter and fall, cause he keeps you warm and happy
but in the summer… not as good, i’ll have to admit
like, he’s too hot
in both senses of the word
so you just get overheated
not that you’re really complaining tho
it’s worth it
oh, and he LOVES to whisper words in spanish in your ear before sleep
if you can’t speak spanish, he’ll say… not so innocent things
our latino king fr fr
and if you can speak spanish he’ll just say how much you smell good or how pretty you are or how much he loves you-
not a cuddler, but a very good person to sleep with anyways
Frank Zhang
he’s tall and muscular
what more can i ask for my personal pillow?
oh, being a lowkey GENTLEMAN with every living being he interacts with
ok maybe that was a little bit out of context
but whatever
back to sleeping with him
if you want a best human pillow, you won’t find it
especially cause charlie died so-
i’m deeply sorry for that. not really.
he loves loves LOVES when you lay on top of him
it’s his favorite position ever
and he also loves when he can hold you
but not literally cuddle
just you laying with him, curled up against his chest but with your face to him, y’know?
i don’t know if it makes much sense
anyways
he likes to braid your hair while you’re falling asleep for you to sleep better
hazel taught him and he absolutely loves to do it in you
in the beginning of the relationship, you usually went to sleep with a dog or a cat
he was too nervous, okay? leave him alone
well, he got over it, thanks to you obviously
but sometimes he still sleeps as a dog
especially if you ask him to do it
he’ll be like “sure, if you want if” but deep down he loves it
it’s just too sooting for him when you curl up against him as a dog and pet his fur
its one of his favorite ways to sleep with you
Luke Castellan
oh, luke
i’ll never admit the uncommonly enormous crush i have on you
he’s just too hot
also i have a thing for blondes (hey jason and annabeth and a lot of other peopleee)
well, enough of me, let’s talk about this walking piece of MEAT
hehehe
he love love loves to sleep cuddled up with you
like, it’s his favorite thing in the world
the only problem (if you consider it a problem. i personally don’t) it’s because he has to sleep holding at least one of your tits
he says it makes him sleep better
technically it does, because his hands are cold and your boobs are warm
but it’s mostly because he really likes ‘em
he’s not gonna tell you that, tho
he loves when you lay on top of him and lets him caress your hair
bros seriously whipped
he’d be damned if you told him you want to sleep alone
he’ll literally become a whiny baby until you surrender
and if you don’t, the next morning he’ll be so grumpy
but that’s obviously until you give him a kiss
if the kiss doesn’t fix, another thing will
cuddles, duh
dirty mind
if you like to wake up early for morning walks, he’ll wake up and watch you get ready
but most likely never join you
Charles Beckendorf
best human pillow EVER
only god knows how much envy i felt from silena for real
he loves cuddling ofc
but it’s not his favorite way of sleeping
he’d rather much more hold you against his chest, arms and legs interlocked
because in that way he can hug, admire and kiss you anytime he wants to
i don’t know if this position makes sense help-
he loves to caress your hair and kiss your head in the process
it’s soothing for him and he knows it’s soothing for you
whenever he comes back from bunker nine super exhausted he just lays down and you hop beside him
and it’s heaven in his eyes
sometimes when things go wrong in a project he's working on he goes straight to your cabin and just stares at you
biggest puppy eyes in the world by the way
he just stares in a way like "please let me sleep here"
and who are you to say no am i right
he LOVES to snuzzle his face in your neck and breath in your scent
he just loves the way you smell
it's just too good to be true
can't take my eyes off of you
sorry i love 10 things i hate about you too much
your smell is one of his favorite things in the whole world
he's just so in love is sickening to anyone who's watching
anyways, cutie pie
a/n pt2: i'm sorry if charlie is short, but im too annoyed right now. i had to rewrite this shit five times because TUMBLR COULDNT SAVE THE FUCKING DRAFT HOLY SHIT- anyways hope u liked
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honeytonedhottie · 1 month
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a glamorous well-being⋆.ೃ࿔*:・🌸
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i've decided to write this post to remind my audience that you're own well being comes first and just share some ways on how you can focus on ur well being in small steps that can gradually build a lifestyle.
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BEAUTY SLEEP ;
go to bed at a reasonable time and wake up at a reasonable time. when ur well rested you'll feel and look your best. theres a reason why ppl call beauty sleep beauty sleep.
when u dont get enough sleep ur skin is dull, you'll start to have eyebags beneath ur eyes and can even shorten ur life span. and thats not hot.
if u feel like it'll make u more well rested, take a midday nap. if u find that u have problems sleeping, having a before bed routine that soothes u can rly help u to sleep like the angel that you are.
drink a warm cup of tea before bed
do gentle stretches
take a soothing bath or shower
DIGITAL MINIMALISM ;
we experience the fear of missing out bcuz of our habit of consuming hundreds if not thousands of unnecessary information every single day. in a way we've become information addicts.
no scroll mornings - cutting a habit completely might be hard so dont jump in with both feet immediately. go little by little.
digital declutter - intentionally cut out optional online activity and instead focus on something in person like ur community, urself and ur projects
APPRECIATING SILENCE ;
if the weather permits, i rly recommend going for walks. walking is not only good for ur body but also ur mind and getting fresh air and sunlight is rly good for u and important.
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start doing guided meditations
go on daily walks to get some fresh air
JOURNALLING ;
journalling is so easy and fun and glamorous. i love the concept of journals bcuz its just such a cute way to get everything from ur mind onto paper which is helpful.
to journal with the intention of improving ur well being i recommend to get into shadow work cuz its like journal therapy. i'll link a post with shadow work prompts right here, that way you can have a place to kind of start off from.
other then simply doing shadow work journalling or maintaining a diary of sorts is also helpful for ur well being bcuz it showcases ur growth and its a great way to cultivate a sense of self without fear of judgement or privacy invasion from others.
TAKING BIG STEPS IN EASY WAYS ;
i think that the secret to overall wellness in the most glamorous way possible is a bunch of little habits that can contribute to an overall beautiful and glamorous inside and outside.
so focus on building habits before you make a huge lifestyle switch. not to confuse this with not being all in. you must be all in otherwise you'll fall back into unhealthy and old patterns for the sake of comfort.
but thats not hot, you can take baby steps while still being all in. commit to a more vibrant and more well self cuz you'll thank urself in the long run.
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deadsetobsessions · 2 months
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What’s in a cape, but the hopes and dreams of the one who bears it?
What’s in a cape, but shelter and warmth for those that receive its protection?
What’s in a hero suit, but a person that’s determined to die in it?
——
Long before Danny Phantom died in his hazmat suit, Bruce Wayne donned his cowl to dive between Gotham and the bullets with faces engraved on them. His cape began to signify fear, for those that harmed Gotham knowingly. But for the rest, it became a sign of protection, of promised vengeance against the crime committed.
And for a select few, the cape was a shelter during cold and rainy patrols. For Tim Drake, the third Robin, it was a warmth he’d never experience past those moments.
When Danny Fenton became Danny Phantom, he’d had wanted to have a cape like the crusader.
Danny wasn’t sure if he wanted to shelter or be sheltered.
But eventually, as things escalated and Danny found himself with less time for normal, personal things, that wish shuddered to an ember. After all, Danny had learned that he doesn’t get the luxury of protection. Not anymore. Which meant he had to be the one doing the protecting. A thousand miles away, as Danny came to terms with it on a clear Amity night, Robin was huddled beneath Batman’s cape to shelter from the pelting rain that came often with Gotham’s gloom.
When Danny got pulled along, invisible and attached to Robin’s side as the vigilante got thrown into a prison, he witnessed Robin talk to his evil older Batman self.
He’s visible again before he knew it, startling the two versions of Robins. Ice slammed into the Robin that became Batman as memories rung through Danny’s head. Where Robin was, stood himself. Where the Evil Robin Batman laid on the floor, covered in glowing ice, was Dan.
Danny died, and became a hero. He just had the unfortunate luck to live to see himself become the villain.
He would never allow Robin to go through it alone, not when Danny had his family and friends to fall back on. Robin, in this cage, ripped away from his team and in the midst of an argument with Batman, was painfully so.
“I’m Phantom.” Danny introduced himself. “Looked like you were in a bit of a spot. I’m sorry for butting in, if you wanted to take care of him yourself.”
“Robin.” Robin was wary. That’s okay. “How are you here?”
“That one’s on you, actually.” Danny glanced around. “Let’s get out of here before edgy future you wakes up. The ice won’t melt, and it’ll be hard to break, but I honestly don’t want to stick around for him to wake up.”
“Can you move him?” Robin eyed their cell contemplatively.
“Sure.”
——
“That seemed personal, earlier.”
Danny nodded. “Yeah. Had the displeasure of meeting an alternate evil version of myself that lost everyone I loved. Kind of hit a sore spot there.”
“…right.”
“No worries, you’re good. My friends and family promised to stay away from explosive sauce.”
“That’s good. So… where do you live?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy?” Danny somersaulted in space next to Robin’s jerryrigged space ship. “Anyways, we’re friends now, so I’ll make sure you don’t live to see yourself become a villain.”
“See, that sounded like a threat.”
“It’s not! I don’t kill! And besides, if you were dead, you’d probably be a ghost, and you’d kick my ass for killing you!”
“Are you implying you’re dead?”
“Not an implication. I’m dead. Kind of. Half. I’m still breathing even if I kind of don’t need to. So, where are your friends?”
Danny will be damned before he let his new friends die in their suits, even if they make the job incredibly hard for him. After all, there’s only room for one dead hero on the team, and that’s him.
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victoria-grimesss · 8 months
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locked on target
masterlist
->Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem!Reader
->Words: 4.7k
->Warning: MDNI! unprotected sex, rough sex, fingering, mask stays partially on, dirty talk.
->Summary: Working alongside the 141 for a year now, you’ve grown closer to the infamous ghost. Confiding in Soap about your crush, confession is the only way to rid yourself of the gnawing infatuation. 
->A/N: Despite all my writing being about König, ghost is my all time favorite baby girl, writing for him always intimidated me but I’ll give it my best shot, hope he’s not too OOC.
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It’s been a full year on the 141 and you couldn't be happier, well not happy at the moment since you’re ankle deep in sludge. This mission is going as well as any other despite the evac being miles away through humid weather and wet ground. 
“Good thing I packed extra socks.” You muttered, readjusting your gun and pack and unsticking your boot from a deep pocket of mud.
“Oh come on lass it could be worse right? We could be treading through anaconda infested waters huh? Lighten up.” Soap is next to you. He's having an easier time removing his boots from the muck. 
Price is in the front with Gaz next to him talking about the evac and rations, you admire their relationship. Price has slowly morphed into some kind of a father figure to you as you assume he did for Gaz too or at least a mentor. Gaz and Soap are like brothers to you, you bicker like such. You pick on Soap when he gets too drunk to form correct sentences and starts singing songs from his childhood, and you get Gaz too when he laughs so hard you have to remind him to breathe. Like a dynamic triangle the three of you.
Then there’s Ghost.
He stands at the back of the group behind you and Soap, no evident trouble for him when it comes to the mud. He’s sturdy and observant, keeping a close eye on the treeline and behind the group. He's a great soldier and you admire his skills… and him. Ever since you met him you’ve had your eyes trained. 
I mean who wouldn’t.
From his expressive eyes which sometimes you feel look through you, to his broad shoulders where he holds the world on top of them, his strong arms that deal with enemies swifty, to…his… lower extremities that you certainly have only thought of once or twice. Maybe more. 
You should be ashamed of your feelings, and you lock them down deep the only time they have slipped past your lips is when too much alcohol loosens them. 
You confessed one night to soap, the rest were asleep and your insomnia was kicking your ass so you went to the parking lot where soap was nursing a bottle on the hood of his car, and you sat down and shared it.
“Something on your mind bonnie?” He hands the bottle to you, concern brewing in him.
“I don’t know, it’s just, Ghost.”
He laughs.
“Yea, I know about him, but what about him?” 
You take a couple large gulps of the amber liquid, it burns its way down and soothes your aching wanting heart, burying the hopeless romantic in you. Tears brew in your eyes and you always forget you either become a laughing drunk or a sappy drunk, seems the latter had won tonight.
“Aye- lass, what's wrong.” His hand is placed on your shoulder offering a comforting touch.
You sob and laugh at the same time, looking up at Soap.
“I think I’m in love with him.” You say quietly through a stream of tears that make their way into your mouth, making a weird cocktail of salty liquor.
“Oh bonnie…” Soap rubs your back, his voice is soft.
“I just, everything about him Johnny! I can’t get him out of my head, and he probably doesn't even look at me that way, he could get any girl he wanted!” You sob.
“Woah there calm down, gonna throw yourself into a spell talking like this. Look. LT cares about ya, truly. He thinks you’re a valued member of the team and I’ve caught him starin’ a few times so don’t be daft now ya hear. You’re a pretty girl and LT would be lucky to have ya.”
You sniff, wiping the tears and snot with a sleeve.
“Really? You think so?”
“Cross my heart and hope ta die. You’ll be alright.”
“It’s in my shoes.” You deadpan.
You hear Gaz laugh and Price looks back, checking on the team.
“Don’t worry Y/N, just imagine it’s a mud bath! Your skin will be smooth and shiny before you know it!” Soap laughs at Gaz’s antics, it’s nice when you can all joke around and relax. The hard part is over and now it’s simple evac.
“Right… how soothing.” Your eyes roll and you look back to check on Ghost, your eyes meet and a flash of electric lightning shoots to your heart, it feels good. 
He gives a quick nod and you return to your trudging. You wait till after the mission to pass any other signals, he’s too focused to register any flirting right now. Or that's the advice Soap gave you after that night.
“Right. Keep close by, chopper is land down in 5, need to evac quickly to avoid any unwanted looks.” Price alerts to the rest of the team once you’ve covered ground and are nearing sweet release. Your back and knees ache just at the thought of sitting. You nurse the last of your water and keep walking, you tip your bottle back along with your head to get the remaining drops and you trip over a protruding root.
Other foot trying to catch yourself a hand catches on your upper arm, righting you up.
“Alright there?” Ghost’s dark eyes are steady on you, maybe a bit amused, or maybe his eye paint is creasing.
“Yea, sorry just tryna finish off the bottle, didn't see that there.”
“Careful next time yea?” He releases your arm and waits for you to start walking again to pick up behind you.
“Yea, for sure LT.”
You feel his hand on your arm even after he released you and you want to untie the knot that Ghost has tied there and you know you’re royally fucked.
You’re all on the chopper and your legs just about give out, you always love the euphoric feeling of sitting down after a mission like this, the lactic acid in your muscles making them burn like no other. You sit across from Ghost and he visibly relaxes once the chopped takes off, the breeze from the open doors cooling everyone immensely.
“Good work everyone, I know evac was shit but you all hustled and we got the intel we needed. I think we all deserve a good ol drink when we get back right?” 
Price brings a smile to everyone's face, as tired as the lot of us are. You glance over at Ghost and his eyes look away from you, looking over his gear.
Your heart pains for some kind of acknowledgment that he feels the same, it’s like trying to hold the same fistful of sand no matter how hard you try it seeps through your fingers, you want him so badly you’d tape your fist shut if that meant keeping the sand in.
Back to base, ‘same day different shit’ you heard Ghost say one time. You often hold on to everything he says, hoarding each little piece he feeds you and storing it away somewhere special. Like you’re hoarding food for the winter, as if the winter is him falling in love with a woman that isn't you, when that happens you’ll open your little box of his sayings and advice and eat them slowly, savor them until all that’s left to drink is the tears you drown yourself in as consolation. 
A pity party is what you throw yourself that night, showering and getting a once over by the medic then making your way back to your room, Price wants to get everyone together tomorrow night for a drink, wouldn't hurt you think. You sit on the edge of your bed, the silence is deafening after a mission, tinnitus ringing your ears. The bed is cold, you want someone to warm it, you want Ghost to warm it.
The nightmares come to you quickly that night, visions of your team, your friends being ripped apart by bullets as you try to fire back into mist. You hold Ghost’s hand as he fades and you wake up coated in cold sweat and adrenaline.
3:18 a.m.
You toss and turn for a minute before huffing and leaving the bed, you need air. Adorned in sweatpants and a shirt you got on recruitment day you leave your room the sound of your door is loud and you wince as it closes. You go to the parking lot once more, maybe there will be more stars out tonight. 
The air is crisp and cool, you round the corner of the building where a bench sits, a lone figure is sitting and smoking there, you can tell it’s him by his silhouette. He’s broad and his legs spread wide as he sits alone.
“This seat taken?” You ask, scared if you talk too loud he’ll leave.
“All yours” No inflection is evident in his tone.
Silence sits between you two and you take a harsh breath to break it. It makes you uncomfortable. 
“Trouble sleeping?” His voice is deep and low.
“The usual, nightmares again. You?” 
“Not tired, too soon after the mission to sleep.”
“I understand.” 
You watch him carefully as he brings the cigarette to his lips and inhales, you inhale with him. You imagine him inhaling your perfume as his lips touch your neck. You stare, unabashedly, like you’re not scared if he catches you.
He adjusts where he sits, hips rolling to get more comfortable.
“Bloody bench feels like it’s made of spikes.” He mutters, quietly.
You breathe out a laugh as he exhales the smoke.
His eyes look to the side at you and then forward again.
“Stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?” 
“Like you want something from me.”
“What if I do?” 
Your heart is racing now, faster than it had on any given mission.
He stands, throwing the cigarette to the ground and crushing it with his boot, he slips his mask down again and his eyes are locked on you.
“I’d say you’d better fuckin’ find it elsewhere, we both know I can’t give you what you want.”
“What do I want Simon?” 
His lips grow sealed when you say his name.
“Things I’m incapable of providing, best leave it at that. Night sergeant.”
His tone meant business, you know better than to chase after him. You sit on the bench, staring at the cigarette on the ground. It’s beaten and crushed like you feel right now.
You wonder if you can still taste his lips on it.
The walk of shame back to your room is humiliating, you pass some others that can’t sleep, nightmares aren't anything special around here and you wish you could pluck the worries from their heads.
Sleep is easy after that, maybe your body wants to make you forget the encounter with him but even so you dream of him. He’s an inescapable phantom.
“Aye there she is!!” Soap hollers from across the pub, it’s a quaint place, quiet enough to not be annoying but lively enough to not feel desolate.
A large corner booth is what they occupy and you wave as you make your way over, A few empty glasses scatter the table already you arrived ‘fashionably late’.
“Hey bonnie I gotta take a leak you can have my seat yea?” He nudges Ghost so he can be let out of the booth, Ghost stands towering over you. Soap shuffles over to the bathroom and Ghost  lets you slide into the booth before he follows, trapped between the wall and him. You’d rather be under him…
You greet them all and Gaz slides you a tall glass of something mind numbing, Ghost has his mask down but he’s nearly finished with his glass same with the rest of them.
“You got some catching up to do, miss fashionably late.” Gaz shoots a smile and you clink your glasses together.
Soap meanders back and pulls a chair to sit at the end of the table, you all squabble over what a better drink is and down rounds after rounds. The conversation somehow gravitates to relationships at some point and Soap is going on and on about this woman he met at the pub down the street.
“Oh she’s a real sweetheart, thinking about asking her out later this week when I get the balls to do it.”
You smile at the way Soap talks about her, you’d love to be admired like that, treasured.
“I think you should go for it Johnny! You're a nice guy, I can go in there and talk you up if you want, say you fought off ten men to save my life.”
He laughs, nearly tipping off his chair, 
“You’re a real wingman Y/N, if you can secure a date by all means.”
You smile and the air is joyous, little is heard from Ghost but you know he likes seeing the team happy, he sips his drink and observes, smiles hidden by his mask.
“Have you had any luck on the dating scene Y/N?” 
Gaz questions, eyebrows rising.
“Yea bonnie, never hear a peep out of you when we talk about lovey dovey shit.”
You shrug, taking strong sips of your drink.
“I went on a date a while back, he got me flowers, a real nice guy. Found out he was sleeping with my friend behind my back around the fourth date. Don’t really want to try anymore, end of story.”
You can feel Ghost’s eyes burning into you as you finish the sentence. His gaze is addicting and you feel sweaty locked in his stare.
“Well he’s a proper twat for messing it up with you then yea?” 
Price offers a tip of his head, sympathy in his eyes.
“Ah it’s alright, I’ll just wait for my prince charming to come sweep me off my feet.” You bat your lashes dramatically and fake a swoon, soothing the old memory with jokes. It turns the tide of the table ambiance to a lighter one.
“I need to piss.” Ghost says quickly, you scoot out of the seat and Ghost hurries off to where Johnny has gone to earlier.
“What’s up his arse?” Gaz says confused.
Price downs the last of his drink and slams it back onto the table.
“What do you all say to a game of pool?”
“I’ll watch, cheer ya’ll on.” You still nurse your drink and you start to buzz, worries slipping away like papers, but one it left, weighted down with a large paperweight.
“I’ll be right there, gonna finish this drink off.” Soap says, sloshing the leftover liquid that's in his glass.
“Very well, see you momentarily.”
Soap watched the two walk off, leaving the two of you left alone.
He turns back quickly, you get secondhand whiplash.
“Ghost has had his eyes on you the whole night please tell me you told him and he confesses his secret love for you!” Soaps eyes are huge and he’s pleading for the right answer.
“Not exactly.” He delfates.
“What the fuck do you mean ‘not exactly’?”
“I told him that I kinda wanted him and he said he wouldn't be able to give me what I want.”
“That's bollocks and you know it! He’s always watching you, never seen him doing that for any other lass. Now is the time, he’s all alone. Go on and chat him up, I’ll tell the boys you’ve gone home sick alright.” 
Soap winks and leaves before you can utter another word. You even your breathing and gulp down the rest of the liquid courage before strolling over to the bathroom hallway. It does not take guys that long to pee weird he's not around.
You walk outside, feeling deja vu from last night the breeze hits the same way.
“You should go inside, it’s cold out.” Ghost is standing leaned up against the brick wall next to the door.
“I was looking for you actually.”
He stands up straighter, shoulders held further.
“Lads looking? Not really in the mood to lose another game. Last time was enough.”
You laugh, the alcohol making it easier to relax around him. You're tipsy enough to have fake confidence for the time being but sober enough to make deductions wisely.
“No Simon, I’m looking. For you.”
“And I told you to stop, you don’t know what you’re thinking. You’re a nice girl yea? Find a nice young guy that can take you on dates and buy you flowers-
“I don’t want anyone else Simon. I want you because I’m in love with you!”
It seems like the whole world went silent after you said that. You’re steaming and don’t move your eyes away from him.
“Y/N.”
“I’m tired of pretending. I just had to tell you I couldn't hold it in any longer it was making me sick. I don’t care about fancy stuff, you should know that by now. I just want to be next to you.”
He approaches you, your neck craning to maintain contact.
“Y/N, I’m proper fucked up you know that? You’re too kind, too perfect to be ruined by a man like me.”
You sniff, the cold getting to you.
“I think you’re wonderful Simon really. You look out for everyone and make sure everyone is alright before looking after yourself. Let me please show you you’re worth loving in return.”
Your heart spills to him, spewing it’s contents violently.
“I’m not joking, I'm not ‘prince charming’ like you referenced earlier.”
“Even better.” You smile.
“Fuck it.”
Before you know it, he lifted the small portion of his mask to kiss you and you erupt, wrapping your arms securely around his neck as though you’ll fall if you don’t. His hands hover over your waist and you grab them and push them down onto your body and he pulls you close. He kisses you like it’s the last time, he makes up for all the times he should have, all the time he desperately wanted to.
He’s watched from afar for so long, your laugh creates sparks in his heart, seeing you make it back from another mission safely spurs him on. He would lay down his life for you and you don’t even know it.
He pulled back, mouth in the crook of your neck.
“Your place is nearby right?” You ask, rubbing his neck and down his back.
“Yea, yea it is.”
He leads you back, back to his den where he’ll draw you in with those eyes and that voice, calloused hands exposed from his gloves that will trace over your skin. The walk is in silence but you both are buzzing, the team won’t miss you, probably happy this chasing game is over with so peace can be established once more. He takes your hand as he leads you up the steps to his apartment, you grope his arm and he shoots you a sultry side-eye.
“Have I ever told you I love your arms?”
“You did just now love.”
Love, love, love. You want him to keep saying it.
He leads you in you’re caged in by his arms on the inside of the door. He looks you over head to toe.
“You look fuckin lovely tonight you know that? All I’ve been thinking about is tearing this top off of you and stripping you down.”
You shiver and bring your hands to run carefully from his abdomen up to his chest.
“You think of ripping my clothes off frequently?”
“Very.”
Stunned by his words and your head swimming he places his hands on your waist and lowers his head to your ear.
“Now if you’d allow me, I’d like to fuck you now.”
Hypnotized you speak.
“Yes please.”
His home is lowly lit and sparsely decorated, you assume he’s not here often or for long.
The bedroom is simple, a bed, two side tables, two lamps, and a dresser. An adjacent bathroom you can’t see.
“You have a nice place.”
“Well now I know you’re lying.”
You stand at the edge of the bed and he stands before you and his hands are on you again pushing you onto the bed you are surrounded by the smell of him, the deep umber and woodsy scent. 
“You know how many times I’ve pictured you in my bed?”
He’s inching your pants down your hips agonizingly slow as he speaks.
“How many times I fucked myself picturing you instead?”
“Ghost.”
“Nah none of that here, you’re gonna say my real name from now on and you’re gonna scream it alright?”
“Fuck Simon.”
“Yea. Just. Like. That.” Your pants are off and his hands move from your ankles up to your knees and caress to your inner thighs. His fingers skate your pantyline and your eyes are locked on his hand and he doesn't stop. His hands move over your hips and grip your waist before moving right below your breasts, he checks you with his eyes and you plead silently.
He cups you fully with both hands and you roll your head savoring his feelings.
“So fucking good love fuck.”
He strips you of your shirt and bra and you’re left exposed on his bed. He stands back to stare down upon you and you feel like a spread of food sitting on a stark white table ready to be consumed and ogled. He strips himself of his leather jacket leaving his quite form fitting black tee on.
You adjust under his gaze, his mask hides any expression but his eyes say so much. Raking over your body heavily and his chest rising and falling fast as though he had run a marathon.
“Simon.”
“Yea?”
“Do something.”
“Like what?” His voice is lighter now.
“Anything Simon!”
He laughs and places a knee in between your legs, spreading them wide to accommodate his other leg and hips.
“There we go, fuck all spread out underneath me.”
His hand is placed on your breast and rolls your nipples in his fingers, it moves down never leaving your skin until he reaches your core it’s hot and wet and he collects it on his fingers and when he finally touches you it’s like you’ve reached Valhalla. 
He slips a finger inside and it faces no resistance, you form around him and he slips in another starting a smooth rhythm.
“So tight, you think you’ll be able to take me huh love?” 
He’s pumping in you and you can hear how wet he’s made you, his eyes darting from his fingers to your face, thrown into pleasure.
He brings you to your peak so quickly you’re stunned and you grip his arm as you clench around him, his name being pulled from you like a mantra.
 You regain your mind and look at him as he slips from you and his fingers make their way under his mask, his eyes on your as he licks them clean tasting you on him.
“Sweetest fucking thing I ever tasted.”
He’s unbuckling his belt next, unzips his pants and pulls himself free. He's thick as all hell and a thick vein runs down the underside. It looks heavy and you pocket an idea for next time.
You're staring for a long time and his two fingers that just did unspeakable things to you tip your chin to look at him.
“Think you can handle it?”
“I can take it, just hurry up.”
“You’re always so impatient you know that.”
He places the tip at your entrance collecting your wetness to help with the initial push.
The stretch is delicious and you grip his arm and shoulder gasping at the feeling of being full of him.
“Fuck. Fuck you’re so fucking tight, squeezing me so fucking good.”
His one arm is braced at the side of your head, forearm spattered with tattoos burning your peripheral vision. The other holds himself, leading himself into you.
He’s seated fully inside and you feel split down the middle in the best way. Burning fire deep within you and you moan for him to move, creating the friction you need.
He starts moving and you both moan, he tips his head forward to watch where he enters you repeatedly.
“So good, fuck so big Simon.”
“You take it so well, love.”
His hand that once gripped himself holds your hip and moves himself like the ocean, fluid and rhythmic.
“Always dreamt about fucking you, you spread out of my bed while I fuck my cock deep into you.”
You throw your head back and he leans back, the warm air that was between you two leaving for the cold air of the room bringing your nipples to hard peaks which his eyes gravitate to.
“Alright c’mon love.”
He takes your ankles and your legs are on his shoulders. He thrusts that much deeper and hits the right spot to make you see spots.
“You like that, fuck I can see how deep I’m going in you.” 
His hand finds your and puts it on your lower stomach and pushes down so you can feel the way he thrusts within you and how deep he reaches, you clench around him.
“Yea you like that.” He's cocky like this, dominant and all controlling. You’re putty in his hand.
“Simon I’m close don't stop please, fuck please.”
He lifts his mask up over his lips and kisses your ankle, biting your calf when he growls and that's all you need to be pushed over the edge.
“Fuck, yea cum on my cock good fucking girl.”
He fucks you through it and leans down to be face to face again. Your legs draped over his shoulders and he hits the right spot with each thrust now, he’s battering you into the mattress and his growling with each thrust muttering about how good you feel and how nicely you wrap about him.
You claw at his chest through his shirt sobbing and babbling and moaning.
“Can’t even form a proper sentence, so drunk on my cock yea? You gonna be a good girl and cum again for me?”
The graphic noises from where the two of you are joining echos through the room and you hope his neighbors aren't home.
“Yes, yes Simon please please please.”
The bed is an orchestra of noises and he shoots a hand up to the headboard, his knuckles gone white from gripping it so hard. Your abdomen is tight, so tight and your so fucking close you just want to cum at the same time as him.
“Fuck fuck fuck, so tight and wet where do you want me to cum, fucking tell me.”
“Inside me, inside me it’s safe.”
Not a beat after that leaves your mouth he’s seating himself so deep within you, you feel him throbbing deep within you and your vision goes blurry, ears gone fuzzy as you both are thrown into the abyss at the same time. 
You hear a crack from above you but you pay no mind as your neck deep in pure white hot bliss.
“Fuckin hell love, really. Fuck.” He's panting, you’re panting.
You stroke his chest lovingly as he kisses your ankle as he slowly lowers your legs from his shoulders. He lowers his mask once more.
You glace up to where his hand still grips the headboard and a deep crack is ingrained in the wood.
You laugh.
“Jesus Simon, you fucked me so hard you broke your bed.” 
He removes his hand observing the wood and shrugging.
“Well worth it I’d say, I’ll invest in a sturdier one.”
“Are you saying you’ll invite me to your place more often?”
“Your place works too.”
You both banter as you both clean up, you shower and he washes the sheets and hangs around the kitchen, letting you some time to refresh.
You come out of the bathroom smelling like him, drowned in one of his shirts and he's leaned up against his kitchen island gazing blindly at the random rugby channel he turned on.
He slides you a beer and you take it gratefully, bumping your glasses together.
“I mean it Y/N, I’m not the kind of man you might be thinking.”
“No Simon, you’re exactly the man I’m looking for, you’re stuck with me now.”
There's a beat of silence before Simon speaks up again.
“I should probably thank Johnny for tonight right?”
“Yea, he pretty much told me to quit my bitching and confront you.”
He sips his beer, 
“Well, for once I can say thank fuck for Soap and his matchmaking skills.”
You laugh and stare at him in adoration, this is the start of something wonderful.
---
Tag list: @theredviolets
2K notes · View notes
rosedom · 1 month
Note
AHHHH HELLOOO sorry i usually dont request much, haha this is actually my second request in all of my tumblr story ever but...i saw you decided to write for gaming and i just couldnt resist, i love your writing a lot and i just think its so immaculate hahaa. Could you write an scenario where male reader is stressed from work (imagine he has an important job like a doctor or something whatever you want is fine :)) because he has been working days nonstop, so much that his boyfriend is all worked up and horny for him so when reader comes back he finds himself straddled by him while hes begging for fucking? With cockwarming, breeding kink and cowgirl position. Could that be with Gaming, Lyney and Gorou? SORRY IF IM ASKING MUCH I DONT WANT TO BE A BOTHER😭😭 i just dont know how to request but thanks for reading all of rant. And again, thank you and sorry for bothering😔 have a nice day/afternoon/night!
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"an unnamed player has invited GA-MING, LYNEY, and GOROU to play . . . an apple a day
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✦ㅤㅤ 【 CW 】 dom!top!male!reader, sub!bottom!ftm!characters, vaginal sex & riding, breeding kink + creampies, creaming (lyney), gratuitous praise + petnames .
A/N : aa u are never a bother !! i am SO SORRY this took so long for me to get to, omg . . . but i had sm fun with this (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)
"do you want to watch, [PLAYER]? press KEEP READING to spectate the match."
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Patient after patient after patient, each one with a more downright stupid trouble than the last. Your day had started with a young man, clearly fresh out of Millelith training, complaining of a tummy ache, of all things! He had clutched his stomach and moaned and groaned, and all you could prescribe him was bedrest. It’s not like you were going to waste medicine—medicine that some people needed—on someone who ached because he didn't eat fucking breakfast. 
The next patient was an older woman, here only for her biannual check up. You'd greeted her, said a sweet, “Good morning, madame,” but all she did was turn her snobby nose up at you and demand you not waste her time.
“Madame, you have a serious—” 
“I know, young man.” You had heaved a sigh, letting her boss you around for the length of her appointment before sending her off with the exact same specifications as last time: take vitamins, get ample rest, stop talking back to people just doing their jobs. (Though, that last one there was merely something you wished you had said.
Too bad the customer—in this case, patient—is always right, huh?)
But, by the end of the day, you wish, instead, that you had simply elderly after elderly; their disrespect pales to the absolute headache that the rest of your patients put behind your eyes, pounding at your skull—bam, bam, bam.
Wham bam-thank-you-ma'am, all throbbing incessantly behind your eyes and making you wanna hurl—except, god, you’re the fucking doctor, and who’s there to take care of him when he’s a little under the weather? You’ve got your boyfriend, of course—your perfect boyfriend, light of your life, apple of your eye, yet he’s home, and you’re here, and you’re bloody exhausted. 
“I need to go home,” you murmur—quiet, lest your own voice make you lose the last of your thin-threaded sanity—, already stripping yourself of the itchy scrubs you wear during the long days. 
“But sir—” the nurse asks, meak, but her voice is still too loud, too shrill for right now. 
You huff. “I’ve worked for fourteen hours.” The tired gruff to your own voice makes you cringe. You can feel the way it tumbles from your chest, rattling you, your overly sensitive eyes and brain and head and fuckin’ everything, at this point. “Refer to the doc on duty, now.” 
The nurse nods, once. “Have a good night, doctor.”
You bid farewell—a kind apology with a promise to make it up to them, to bring them coffee, maybe, or some cookies—, and you take the slow walk home. The sky is dark and the fireflies are out, the gentle glow illuminating the path. With nothing but your own thoughts and the night to accompany you, you feel your headache gradually ease. It throbs, still; but each bump in your skull is gentler, now: it’s easier to ignore. 
Although the porch light is too strong—the lantern bright and attracting the nighttime bugs and moths—, the foyer of your home is dark. Your aching head is grateful for the reprieve—for the silence that envelops you in totality the second the door clicks quietly shut behind you—, but something other than tiredness pulls at your heartstrings: your sweet boyfriend, clad in only a shirt of yours, toeing into the entryway. 
“Honey?” He wipes the sleep from his eyes, softly smiling at you. “Hi.”
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“Ga-ming, honey—” honey, because Ga-ming unabashedly stole the pet name from you, first, “—you didn’t have to stay up for me.” 
As if on cue, his jaw cracks open in a yawn: this, you do not need the lights on to see. Your heart aches with your head, knowing that he had stayed up just for you. “Honey,” you repeat, sliding off your jacket and stepping up to him. You take his waist in your hands, bunching up the shirt he stole from your closet.
“Quit with that,” he murmurs, tilting up his head for a soft kiss. You grant it; but when you go to pull back, to keep the kiss gentle and chaste, Ga-ming presses forward, darting that little tongue out to lick at the seam of your lips; his hips, too, come bumping against yours, pressing into your thigh, pant to skin—
“Ga-ming?” you repeat, breath leaving you in a low huff. “You’re—” bare. 
Utterly, wholly bare: an expanse of warm, slick skin against your clothed leg. “‘m ready,” he mumbles while he takes to mouthing at your throat. His lips soothe you, somehow; it’s a reprieve, a stark contrast, to the pounding at your skull. 
“Ready?” you whisper, tilting your head back, letting your hands guide the steady roll of his hips onto your lap. 
He nods. “Ready for you,” he enunciates as he softly whines. 
Ga-ming—your Ga-ming—, your boyfriend, your love and light of your life: right here in front of you, on you, all needy for you, offering himself to you, wholly ready for the taking. 
“So please,” he continues, his cock dragging heavy across the seam of your pant; “fuck me.”
“Oh, honey,” you murmur; then again, an “oh, honey,” because you’re still half-dressed up in your clothes—though they’re only soft and bland, made to fit under the rough scrubs you had abandoned at the office—, and Ga-ming is naked save for the shirt draping across him, the low hemline covering the absolutely sinful way he grinds down. It’s a dirty move, a down, down, down that gives his sensitive cock friction against your pelvis. 
“Please, please, ‘m ready, I said—” his words abruptly drop off, a high cry in his throat that sends him to hide his overly-warm face in your neck. His skin burns against you, a feverish-hot that makes you chuckle, makes the throb in your head go away, just-so. “I said I-I was ready, so, please!”
You coo, quiet, bumping your hips up once. The jerking motion makes him cry out, but he manages to keep himself upright, right-side up but entirely unmoored on your cock. “Go on then, little lion. Take what you need, yeah?”
Whimpering a quiet, “Y-yeah,” he begins riding you, slow, steady—but slightly off-balanced—rolls of his hips that makes him whine, makes you groan low n’ deep in your chest. You let your hands rest on his hips, the fabric of his shirt falling over your wrists, and gently guide his motions. Once you’ve helped him establish himself, he begins riding you harder, more desperate.
Silent tears—though, are they truly silent, loud as he is moaning out for you?—dribble down his cheeks, falling to his shirt and soaking the collar of it in salty evidence of his abject pleasure. His abdomen is tensing and relaxing and tensing and relaxing again, all in a rapid loop, in and out and in n’ out, and then there’s a fucking bulge right below his navel when he sinks down hard n’ deep on your cock; and you’re sent over the edge at the sight, moaning through your teeth as you fill Ga-ming up with hot, sticky cum.
“Oh, oh—” he cries, grinding down harsh to get all your cum in as deep as possible, deep ‘nuff to breed him— “bred me, bred me so well, oh—” You groan at his desperate babbling as his thighs jerk around your hips, just before they give out on him entirely. He falls bodily into your chest, heaving through his own orgasm as weak mewls tumble from his prettily parted lips. Each sound is smeared into your throat while you laugh, light and breathless, jostling his overly-sensitized body and making him flinch. 
“Sorry, honey.” You kiss at his temple, and, the whole while, his small cunt is left to unconsciously milk your cock, left to assure that loud, insecure part of his brain that he’s wanted, that he’s bred all nice n’ full because he is loved. You’re long done, now, but the undulations make your body warm, soft, safe—just like Ga-ming is, comfy in your lap and wholly protected. “Thank you.”
He shakes his head against you, nuzzling into your throat with a heavy sigh. “You don’t have—hafta thank me,” he mumbles, a lick at your Adam’s apple to seal the deal. “I wanted ta.”
Tucking up the blankets around him, you grin. “Then can you warm my cock, lil’ dragon? Just for me?” You run your fingers lightly up his clothed spine, delighting in the shiver you can feel, one that runs the length of your cock as he’s snug on it. “Since earlier was all about you?” You raise the end of your sentence in a lilting tone, meant to tease, and Ga-ming huffs at you. 
And, n further retaliation, he clenches around you; the soft squeeze—all wet n’ warm, smearing your own cum across the base of your cock and leaving the mess of both of yours to dribble down the minute space between your bodies—forces you to calm your breathing, to take in the delicate scent of what is undeniably Ga-ming mixed with the smell of your own shirt, your own cologne. 
You laugh, then. “‘m sorry,” you say again amidst giggles, ones you’re careful you confine only to your upper chest lest the movement be too uncomfortable on both of your oversensitive groins. 
He doesn't reply, snuggled up comfy on your lap and stuffed full of your cock n’ cum both. Instead, he only noses into your neck further before his breathing steadies, lulling you to sleep, too.
It’s in your final moments of consciousness that you realize your head no longer hurts. 
(You suppose you now have the evidence that, yes, an orgasm is sufficient enough a cure for headaches.)
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Under Lyney’s palm, a small floor lamp clicks silently on. The light is admittedly dim, but, to your sensitive eyes, the bulb is blinding. You cringe and cover your eyes; but it only serves to shield you slightly, because you’re still upright in the foyer, and your body is rather weak. “Lyney,” you tiredly murmur, lifting your palm just enough to see the ground lest you trip. 
You bump into him, laughing lightly, but his worried hands jump to your arm. “Hey—”
“I’m okay.” You’re quick to calm him, placing your free hand on his in a tender gesture as you make way to the living room. “Just a headache, ‘s all. Ya shouldn't have stayed up f’r me.” Earlier, it hurt to even think; but here, with him, the pain is easy to ignore, in the face of his own self destruction.
He grumbles at you, though, says something you can’t quite catch and drops his hands, pads over to the lamp to flick it off. The return of darkness is soothing. 
He smiles at you, then; or, at least, you think he does. It’s difficult to see in the dark, and you can’t strain your eyes without hurting yourself. “I wanted to!” He takes three long strides before he’s standing in front of you, draping his arms across your shoulders. The position makes his (your) shirt ride up on his belly, and— ”I missed you, y’know,” he murmurs, suddenly all soft n’ deep, looking up at you and bumping his forehead against your chin. “A lot, really.” 
“Lyn—” 
He quickly silences you with a kiss. Against your lips, he pulls back, murmurs, “I missed your cock, especially.”
Laughing against him, you lean up ‘til he can no longer reach you. He pouts at you when you reply, faux-snark, “only my cock, huh?” Your bottom lip juts out—a mirror of Lyney’s own, a magic trick of his you took for your own; it’s a devilish trick, one you play right alongside puppy-dog eyes you know he’s soft to. “How cruel.” 
He huffs at you, pulling you down by the collar of your shirt to kiss the mirth off your lips. “I was tryin’ to be seductive,” he grumbles, knocking against your chin and beginning to push you backwards into the living room. “But nevermind!”
You want to say, “Hey, now:” disagree with him and keep on pouting and go, “hey, hey, hey,” all offended, but the backs of your knees come into contact with the edge of the sofa, and you’re well and sufficiently distracted from that idea.
“Sit,” he gently commands you—merely the illusion of choice—, giving you no choice in the matter with the way he’s pressing you down into the cushions. You go easily; you sigh in relief when the softness begins enveloping you—a pillow’s snug right in the middle of your back, and you briefly wonder if Lyney had planned this. He murmurs, “there you go,” quiet n’ soft, and you’re taken by the way this man gives to you. 
He wears his heart on his sleeve, truly; except, right now, the sleeve is yours (just like his heart belongs to you and yours to him in turn), and it's bare, and so is the expanse of his long, pale thighs, the hem of his boxers peeking out beneath the shirt. He stands in front of you, between your legs, makes sure you’re down and that you’re gonna stay down, but your eyes aren’t really tired, not anymore, staring at Luney—your Lyney—before he huffs and sits bodily onto you, straddling your lap with his knees sinking into the cushions on either side of you.
“Lyney,” you murmur, reaching out to take hold of his thighs. The position makes the shirt rise up on his belly, exposing the soft, rippling muscles there; but, in the dark, all you can go by is what you feel against your own stomach, his bare skin pressed to your thin shirt. “I was kiddin’, sweetheart.”
“I know you were,” he snaps at you, mean-like, but he brings his arms around your shoulders all sweetly and nuzzles into the side of your head. “But I wasn’t. I—I really did miss you; and your cock. If you—if you wanna, of course.” 
“Of course I want to, Lyn,” you mutter, tilting your head up to kiss beneath his chin. “I’m just a little tired.”
“A little?” He huffs, again, before sighing. “Just—let me do the work, alright? I’m already...” he pauses, tilts his head to the side, breathes in and out sharply.
You hum at him to go on. 
“‘m already prepped.” Oh. 
“Oh?” You grin, bringing your tired arm up to cup his cheek. He leans into your palm and his eyelashes flutter, brushing against your skin. “Go ahead then, sweet thing.”
And go ahead he does, smiling into you before he abruptly leans back ‘nuff to chuck off the shirt. You whine, say, “hey!” but there isn’t any bite left on your tongue when Lyney starts tugging his boxers down, too. He’s impatient, pulling at the seam and groaning curses at the fabric—as if it’s the damn boxers’ fault that he’s in a position that prevents him from taking them off. 
He relents, tilting this way and that and finally—after painstaking minutes later, ones that, under no circumstance, should be arousing, but the anticipation, the wait: it all makes your dick chub up in your own pants—Lyney’s left naked in your lap. The fabric hangs off his foot, and you reach down to tug it the rest of the way off for your sweet boyfriend as he busies himself unbuckling your own belt, loosening the tough leather enough for your pants to droop and enough for him to reach a hot hand into your briefs. 
“Eager, huh?” you tease, lifting your hips—and, subsequently, him—to let him get your dick out of your pants. Neither of you bother pulling down your own pants, not after Lyney spent so long on his boxers alone. He doesn’t dally. “My sweet Lyney.”
He sighs, again—he’s rather dramatic tonight; but, then again, when isn’t he? It wouldn’t quite be your Lyney without some theatrics—, spitting into his palm and lathering up your cock with it while he makes to straddle you more fully. “Thought you were tired,” he grumbles, hovering his, indeed, wet n’ slicked up and entirely prepped cunt over your thick cockhead.
“Mhm.” You set your hands on his plush thighs once he hooks the head of you into his loosened hole, groaning low and pleased in your throat while he softly whimpers at the barely-there stretch. He prepared himself well. “But when you’re lookin’ so pretty for me, I can’t help being wide awake. Wouldn’t wanna miss this sight for the world.”
With your eyes now adjusted to the light—and, oh, you consider how the throb of your head is a bygone memory now—, you can see the way his cheeks darken just-so, puffed up in exertion as his groin meets yours. You’ve got your cock stuffed up balls-deep in him, and he leans into you once he’s fully settled. 
He moans, less out of outright pleasure and more out of total contentment, comfy and warm on your lap as your arms knead at his thighs. His arms squeeze around your shoulders, and he quietly asks, “Gimme a minute.”
Nodding, you simply bask in the steady heat of him, letting him adjust and recognize that, yes, you’re home, now, and you hadn’t really left him at all. “I missed you,” you murmur rather suddenly, your voice quiet but still stark in the silence of the night. “Thought about you durin’ my shift.”
“You did?” His voice is rough but wispy, a little out-there and entirely gone. He’s slipping into that mindset he always does when he’s left to warm your cock—regardless of if it were by his volition or your own—, but he begins to subtly grind his hips against you, mewling at the hot sparks of rapture from his cock rubbing just right against you. 
“‘Course I did,” you continue, moving your hands to his hips instead to help move him along. His arms tighten around you and he moans directly into your ear.
From then on, it’s quiet: quiet, that is, save from the obscene slick noises of the lube Lyney used to prep himself earlier with his own slick, your pre-cum mixing up and making a mess of thick liquid between both of your thighs. His moans are barely audible, these soft, gentle lil’ uh, uh, uh’s punched out of him with each tender grind down. 
You think, even, that you’ll both cum like this: quiet, nothing but the sounds of your connection and heavy breaths, moans, groans as you fall over the edge. But then Lyney starts bumping his groin against yours even harder, grinding down deep on your cock and rubbing against your full balls, and he starts babbling for you to “breed me! Please—”
“I-I’ll breed you,” you groan, leaning your head back into the sofa cushions and chasing your release, chasing the release you both want, the one he wants so desperately stuffed up deep inside him. “Gonna fill you right up, just like you want, sweetheart.” 
He babbles more—a mix of syllables and words, more pleas for you to breed him—until he’s silenced by his own high-pitched whine, cumming around you and slathering you in creamy-white. The steady clench and release of his cunt forces you to your own end, thick cum slowly leaking out from the edges of his cunt and your cock. (You can hardly tell what’s your leaking cum and what is his own.)
“Thank you,” he mumbles, already beginning to doze. “Th’nk you:” quieter, more muddled against your ear.
You grab the throw you have across the sofa’s armrest, rucking it up around the two of you; you cocoon Lyney safe in your arms and on your softened cock. He’s nodded off, now, and he misses your words: “You don’t have to thank me,” you say anyway, even if he doesn’t hear you, “I love you.”
The cum’ll be sticky, later, when you wake up; but for now, it’s perfect. It’s perfectly warm and entirely cozy, wholly snuggled up with the love of your life. Your headache, the stressors of the day—they’re all forgotten in his presence. 
You’re so, so glad to love him. 
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“Hi, puppy,” you coo. The sound of your own voice grates you, but you ignore it to sweetly smile at your beloved. He stands there, motionless for a moment right there at the threshold before the foyer, until he shakes his head with a barely-there laugh. “Gorou?” 
He tilts his head to the side—this you can see, the silhouette of him in the moonlight—before he takes a tentative step forward. 
Then another. And another. Another, another, another, ‘till he’s standing in front of you and leans up to kiss your jaw. “Hi,” he repeats, voice ruff (hah!) and hoarse, a little too much so. “Missed ya.”
You tilt your head back to let him mouth at you, and your hands subconsciously come to clutch at his hips, and— “Oh, Gorou,” you mumble, pleasantly aghast, because your hands come into contact with bare, slick skin. “Pent up?”
With a quiet whimper, he tilts his hips forward, into you, pressing against the contact of your fingers on him. You slowly slide your one hand around, sneaking a large handful of his ass before you dip into his cleft, shuddering when your fingertip easily glides across his slicked, open cunt. 
“I-I wanted you, so bad,” he starts to mumble, shy, tucking his head into the meat where your shoulder meets your neck. Without any prompting, you adjust your stance, pressing your knee into his cock and making him jerk forward with another whimper high in his throat. “Oh!”
Slowly, his hips begin grinding—it’s a weak movement, testing, making sure you're really okay with this, right now. He moves unsure against you until you begin bumping your knee, letting his slick make a mess of your pant leg. “Go on,” you goad him on, soft, holding him snug against you. You can feel his cunt clench even through the fabric of your pants, a rapid rat-a-tat-tat against you that is oddly reminiscent of the headache you can feel begin to dissipate. “Take your pleasure, pup.”
He nods vehemently against you, beginning to hump as his tail swishes side to side, side to side, hypnotizing you just slightly. It’s hard to parse it out in the dark, but the shadow of it is undeniable behind him. Each bounce of your leg makes Gorou whimper, and he’s quick to crane his neck up for a kiss to muffle himself. You grant his request easily, but only for a minute; after, you gently part from him to murmur, so quiet that only he could possibly hear, those big, soft ears of his twitching as he strains, “What else do you want, honey?” 
“Want you,” he whines, grinding harshly once, twice. “Want you inside me, want you to breed me.” 
You didn’t expect that, but you’re a doctor, after all; it’s kinda in the job description to roll with the punches, so you do. “You wanna get fucked full of pups?” you ask, teasing and light, but Gorou’s mouth parts as a loud whine crawls out of his chest.
“Yes! Please.” Thick tears begin to drop from his eyes, saltwater dribbling onto the bare skin of your throat. “Now, now—breed me now,” he begs, and you coo at him, bringing your hands to curl into his hair, rubbing soothing circles into the base of one puppydog ear. 
“Patience, pup.” 
And, because he’s Gorou, and Gorou is nothing but a good boy, he nods, rapid-quick movements of his head, and begins to slow on your thigh. Heat shimmers low in your belly as he steps back from you on shaky legs, a wet splotch across your leg from his cunt. You bring a hand down, meaning to scoop it up off your pant, but your finger brushes two distinctly different textures: his natural slick, and fuckin’ lube. “Did you prepare yourself for me?”
“Y-yeah,” he mutters, tail tucking itself between his legs. You almost cringe at that, knowing he’s smearing himself into his own fur, but if he doesn’t mind, then you won’t either; besides, it’s hard to truly care when your boyfriend is so bashful in front of you. “I—I missed you, ‘nd wanted to be ready for you.”
The image of Gorou, ass up on the bed with four of his fingers stuffed up inside of himself flitters across your mind, makes your cock throb in your britches. Your erection was easy to ignore, earlier; but now it’s abject torture. 
However, it’s not nearly as torturous as it was for your boyfriend, and you know this. You know he didn’t cum, know his fingers are far too short to truly reach in deep and press against his g-spot, know his wrist can’t comfortably bend to jerk himself off and finger himself at the same time. So you coo, soft, “Sweet boy. Where’s your toy?”
“Charging,” he mutters. 
You grin at that: it’s perfect. “Can you go get it then, puppy?” 
With an audible swallow, he nods, rushing for your bedroom. You follow behind him, lethargic but so, so turned on; and while he’s grabbing the vibrator from the corner, you shuck off the rest of your clothes and plop yourself down on the edge of your bed. 
He must not expect you to have followed him, however, because once he turns around, he jumps, ears flattening to his head in embarrassment. You only laugh and pat your lap. “C’mere.”
Quickly—and toy in tow—, he shuffles over to you. He stands awkwardly in front of you for a moment before you murmur, “I said c’mere,” and tug him to straddle your lap. The position immediately forces his cock—slick n’ thick, out of its hood and throbbing incessantly—against yours, and he mewls helplessly for a moment, grinds once, twice again, before he grabs the lube to the side of you. 
You hadn’t even noticed it there, but now that he’s grabbed it, pointed it out, you feel other wet spots beneath you. He fuckin’ masturbated here, right on the duvet you both sleep under, thinkin’ about you and only you. You’re taking out of your musings when he slathers up your cock in lube, messy and sloppy, and then he’s rising, positioning you, and sinking right on down.
“Mm!” he cries out, swiveling his hips to take you in deeper, deeper, deeper. You groan at the lube-slick combination that smothers your cock in Gorou, Gorou, Gorou. “Breed me, breed me!” Each meak plea makes your cock pulse inside him, and he mewls at each throb inside him. “Please!”
“I got you, pup,” you murmur, your edge so close you can taste it on the tip of your tongue. “Just make yourself feel good, and I’ll breed you, okay? Okay, puppy?”
“Okay, okay—” 
You grin. “Good boy,” you say, and then he’s tumbling over the edge and bringing you right down with him. You groan into his throat, feeling the vibrations of his whimpers n’ whining moans as he’s getting thoroughly bred. Your hands ruck up his shirt to hold his sides and soothe him down from his high. “You did so good for me, sweetheart. Bred you just like I promised I would, hm?”
He weakly nods. “Thank you,” he mumbles, nosing at your throat. 
And, well. You’re bloody exhausted, and you promised to breed him, and he can’t keep on being bred if you pull out. You tell yourself you’re only upholding your promise as Gorou falls asleep on your cock, breathing deep on your lap: tell yourself that it’s the lingering tiredness that suddenly seems to hit you in full-force that keeps him warm and snug on you. 
Really, clean-up can wait. 
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i got a lil' carried away on lyney's part ,, o(*^@^*)o also, none of these were really cowgirl 'cos reader was sitting up for it . . . i couldn't think of how to have him lay flat in these scenarios LOLL
13 MAR. 2024, @rosedom, rosey .
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rkvriki · 7 months
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PAIRING ! rich jock!jake x mechanic!reader
SYNOPSIS ! Always having had this passion for cars and fixing them, you found the perfect summer job as a mechanic! Working in a mechanic shop where everyone that worked there was friends with each other was perfect until the friend that didn't work there showed up to get his car fixed.
WARNINGS ! i don't understand a single thing abiut cars or how to fix them it was all googled; jake has daddy-ish? issues; horrendously written angst; reader and jake get pretty heart broken but i cant write angst so its awful; reader thinks jake cheated yikes; curse words; drinking alcohol; reader and jake both have anxiety; reader talks about her past and not having many friends; slighlty suggestive talk but minor friendly! i think it's all, warn me if otherwise!!
word count : 18.9k lol PLEASE READ! so i want to warn everyone that reads this that this story is not my best. I wrote this during a huge writers block and I've never written something as long as this. I know there are flaws and things that could be better, so I'm all open to tips and advice on how to be better at this kind of stories. I would love to write more of this lenght fics even if my blog was not created for that but its a path i would like for it to take. I really apologize if this story doesn't reach your expectations, but I'm only starting so please be nice patient with me. i hope you enjoy this at least a little bit !
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Summer jobs were a student’s worst enemy. The desperation of wanting money to go on a trip with friends led anyone to get the first job they could get their hands on. That’s how you end up at your friend's boyfriend's mechanic shop. Sohee told you about his shop when she found out you were looking for summer jobs to get money for your long-planned trip and knew her boyfriend was looking for employees. Everyone who knew you well enough knew you had a special love for cars and were good at fixing some car-related problems. Ever since you were a little child you were always running behind your father when he did some fixing around his car and as you grew up you learned a few things, enough to have friends call you occasionally to fix their cars. You were a little hesitant to accept this job, you had never fixed any big thing in a car and this job looked like it required more knowledge than you had, still after considering how much you needed the money you accepted your friend’s offer. 
Sohee explained that only a few people were working around and they were all her boyfriend’s, Heeseung, friends. Heeseung, who ran the shop, does any kind of job around and fixes business and partnership offers, Jungwon worked during the weekends in class months and worked full time during summer break and usually worked in simple things like changing tires and cleaning the cars, Sunghoon who polishes the cars along with Sunoo who also paints and wraps them, Jay worked with changing heavy car pieces and finally, Ni-ki who was friends with all of them and the youngest amongst them all, was also doing this as a summer job and he was in charge of painting costume designs in cars. The 6 of them formed a friend circle along with another one, Jake – who didn’t seem to be working here since he most likely didn’t need to, seeing that he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth and has always been more privileged than the rest of them in Sohee’s words.
Putting on your jacket and grabbing your keys you made your way out. The weather was hot and you were already regretting putting a jacket on as soon as you entered your car and felt how hot it was inside. You started the car, turned the ac on, waited until you could breathe properly, and felt like you wouldn’t melt in the car seat. You grabbed your phone and pasted the mechanic shop address in the GPS app. It wasn’t too far from your house, which you were grateful for since it meant you didn’t need to wake up extra early to reach the shop in time. The drive was quiet, the traffic was low, and deep down you wished it was high just so you could have time to calm your nerves. The app indicated that you were a minute away so you looked around the street until you spotted a sign that read Gearbox Garage. You made a turn and pulled into the small driveway the shop had to park cars. You turned your car off and took a deep breath as you pulled your keys out and got out of the car. You walked to the front of the shop and it looked empty, making you think that maybe you should’ve given Heeseung a call before coming. Looking at the time on your phone, it marked 2:30 pm meaning they could be on lunch break. You walked into the shop and looked around, the shop was well organised for a mechanic shop, it wasn’t as dirty as you expected it to be but small oil puddles and thrown cloths could be seen here and there. There were only a few cars, not that you expected more since the place wasn’t the biggest. Taking one more look around, you saw a door with a sign that said staff only, you walked towards it and knocked, hoping somebody would open it and it would be Heeseung. You waited a few seconds until a tall man opened it with a sandwich in his hand and sauce and bread crumbs in the sides of his mouth. He looked at you with a confused expression as he leaned in the doorway.
“Um I’m here to talk with Heeseung, I’m friends with his girlfriend and she told me he’s looking for one more person to work here so-” you were cut off as the man walked away and shouted, “Heeseung hyung, there’s someone for you!” a faint coming could be heard in the distance as another figure started approaching the door. Said Heeseung appears in front of you. “So you must be the y/n Sohee’s always talking about?” he said looking at you with an extended hand, waiting for you to shake it. You took his hand in yours as you shook it, hoping he didn’t notice how sweaty it was from your nerves. “Ah yeah, that’s me! I’m assuming she told you how I wanted the job, right?” “Oh yes, she did tell me about it and I just need you to answer a few questions to know whether you can get the job is that ok?” Shit, smile and nod y/n. You quickly nodded at his words, hoping he wouldn’t ask if you knew how to do complex things. “I just need to know what kind of things you can fix or have done.” “Oh! I have done quite a few things, I’ve changed oils, fixed engine chains, changed batteries, changed tires and other small fixes.” you nodded and fiddled nervously with your fingers, silently hoping this was enough to have him accept you to this job. Heeseung nodded and slightly smiled at your words and extended his hand again. You looked at his hands and then at him and he laughed at your confusion. “Seems like you’re our newest employee, welcome!” you let out a breath of relief and shook his hand again. “Oh my god, thank you so much! I promise I'll try my best.” you said firmly as you offered him a smile. “No need to thank me. We really need one or two more employees so you’re big help right now. Anyways, you can start maybe tomorrow at 9 am?” “Oh sure, I can, see you tomorrow then!” Heeseung nodded at you and went back to the staff room as you made your way out to your car.
As soon as you sat in your car you immediately texted Sohee, thanking her for having such a nice boyfriend. You put your phone down and sigh happily. You got the job now, what could go wrong? Now you just need to focus on working hard and getting that money to go on that trip.
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The sound of your alarm made you stir awake. You groaned as you stretched out and let your arms fall limp in bed with a loud thump. You closed your eyes as you let out a sigh, getting mentally ready for your first day at work. Getting out of bed, you made your way to the bathroom to take your morning shower. You turned the water on and let it warm a little bit before you went in. The warm water felt relaxing against your skin, an almost therapeutic feeling. As you washed yourself you started thinking about how would your first day at work, hoping you wouldn’t embarrass yourself in front of the rest of the boys and could get along with them. Now, it wasn’t like you had a hard time making friends, quite the opposite. Still, you were always a little awkward when you first met people, all thanks to your constant overthinking, never knowing if people enjoyed talking to you or not. You could say you had a pretty vast friend group but you weren’t as close with anyone as you were with Sohee. She has been your best friend for as long as you can remember. She’s been there for you anytime you needed and you for her. Sohee was the one who helped you come out of your comfort zone and try new things. Without her, you wouldn’t enjoy your teenage years as much as you did, hell, if it wasn’t for her you wouldn’t even dream of going on the damn trip.
You got out of the shower and stepped in front of the mirror, wiping some of the steam off of it. You started doing your normal skincare routine that, normally, would be a relaxing moment for you, but now you were only thinking about how you could be getting ready to head to the beach with your friends and drink a cocktail while tanning, and now you were only harshly rubbing the products on your face with irritation. Taking a deep breath you moved to your room to finish getting ready so you could leave the house as soon as you could. You looked in the mirror, taking in your appearance one last time before leaving the house, not that the way you looked right now mattered because you were more than sure that sooner or later you would be covered in oil and car fluids so you opted for your old overalls with an old shirt underneath.
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The drive downtown was quiet and easy-going, still, there was some traffic since everyone started their work around the same time. The car’s clock indicated that it was 8:50, making you relieved that you weren’t gonna be late on your first day of work. Making the already familiar last turn, you reached the shop, parking in the lot it had inside. You got out of the car and instantly felt the slight summer breeze that ran through the morning air. Walking inside the shop, you could already hear some shuffling going on around the shop. As you got in further, you saw Heeseung who probably hasn’t noticed your presence yet from his crouched position, cleaning up some tools and putting them in a separate box. 
“Good morning, Hee!” you greeted, startling him. He got up and turned to face you with a surprised expression. “Oh hey, y/n! Wasn’t expecting you to be this early, though.” He said, chuckling as he wiped his hands with a cloth. “Well, you know, didn’t wanna be too late on my first day of work, I guess,” you said, swinging yourself back and forth, avoiding his gaze, feeling kinda awkward with yourself for worrying so much about being on time. “Usually the other boys come super late since they come all together so you shouldn’t worry about being on time here. Also, we’re supposed to be all friends here, so don’t put too much pressure on yourself about working here, it’s all chill here!” Heeseung said, trying to reassure and comfort you. “I guess it’s just a matter of time for me to get used to it.” you clapped your hands behind your back as you finished talking. “Anyways, should I start working?” you suggested. “Oh, yeah. Actually, there’s a car that needs an oil change, so maybe you could start by doing that.” Heeseung said, pointing to a red car that was already up in the hydraulic lift. “Sure thing!”
You put on some gloves that Heeseung gave you and started getting to work. Changing oil was something you did quite a lot, it was one of the first things your dad taught you, something that was so hard for you back then is now a piece of cake for you. Having a passion for cars made learning things way easier for you. Obviously, this old passion of yours wasn’t seen as a good thing for some people. Some would tell you girls shouldn’t be working with cars as it was the role for the boys or that you should be playing with your dolls instead of getting in your dad’s way while he was fixing his car. Of course, your little kid self felt awful hearing such things, but your parents would always reassure you that it didn’t matter what they said and that it was okay to want to learn those things. As time went by, people stopped commenting less and less. As you grew up you learned how to stand up for yourself and you wouldn’t leave those people without a response, and with time they learned how to mind their own business.
As you waited for the oil to fully drain, you heard a car pull up in the parking lot and the rest of the five boys arrived together, just as Heeseung had mentioned previously. You got up from your kneeling position and turned to look at them as they all got in and greeted Heeseung. Their loud voices quickly filled the place that was once only filled by the quiet tunes from Heeseung’s playlist and the occasional clanking of tools hitting the floor. You went back to work as they all talked with each other and started getting ready to work. You heard steps coming in your direction, making you look back to where it came from, seeing Jungwon walking towards you with his dimples on display.
“Good morning, y/n! You know it’s weird seeing someone who’s not Heeseung working here this early.” Jungwon said as he walked towards you, chuckling to himself. Stopping what you were doing, you turned all your attention to him. “Guess someone needed to give him some company, no?” you said putting your hands on your hips. “Keep going like that and he might give you the “employee of the month” title,” he said, making you laugh at him. “Anyways, what are you doing?” he asked, nodding at the car above you on the lift. “Oh, changing some oil, was about to put a new filter on.” you said as you pointed at the car’s oil pan, “Shouldn’t you get to work as well?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at him, making him scowl at you. “Don’t remind me, Heeseung gave me a shit ton of cars to clean, got work for a whole week,” he said rolling his eyes. Jungwon walked away to start working on his cleaning duty and you put your focus back on the oil filter.
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Soon enough, it was lunchtime and the seven of you were all gathered in the staff room. You were all talking about multiple things and something that came to conversation was how they had never seen you around campus.
“I mean, I guess I’m not necessarily a social butterfly and we might not even have classes in the same place, so that might explain why we never crossed paths.” you explained as you ate some of your tuna-mayo wrap you brought from home, they all hummed in agreement. “What are you majoring in, though?” Sunghoon asked you as he looked up from his lunchbox. “Oh, I study computer science!” “Oh really? Then you must know Jake? Jake Sim? He shares a few classes with comp sci students” Heeseung asked, surprised to know you were in the same major as his best friend. You hummed in thought as the name sounded familiar. “It does ring a bell but I’m not really adding a face to the name though.” You said slightly tilting your head to the side as you tried your best to remember who the hell was Jake Sim. “Yeah, let’s just say his attendance isn’t exactly the highest…” Heeseung said as he hissed quietly. “Oh… yeah that must explain why I don’t remember him then.” You said chuckling. “Don’t misunderstand it. It’s not like he doesn’t care about classes, I mean he kinda doesn’t, but he is much more focused on football.” Heeseung paused as if he was in deep thought. “Jake knows if anything school-related goes wrong for him he can just take over his dad’s business, which most likely will happen.” You hummed, understanding what he meant.  
It wasn’t rare for jocks like Jake to skip classes and ignore the fact that they need to graduate. Still, some of them were lucky to have successful family businesses, like Jake was. His father was one of the most prestigious CEOs and businessmen of Seoul and even the whole of South Korea. He led one of the most famous costume software development companies around, starting in a small office in Seoul that, over the years, grew all over the country’s most famous districts. Jake obviously was following his father’s steps, deciding to follow the computer science field so one day he could take over his father’s business. Was this his dream? No. Did he really wanna be a future CEO? Also no. He was doing this solely because he knew his dad would never approve of his younger son pursuing a football career. His older brother, Jaewoo, was already following the business field and Jake was just expected to do the same as him and since the older sibling decided not to work in his father’s company, he was the last hope to keep the business going so he felt like he had no other option. He felt suffocated knowing that everyone had high expectations for him, having people constantly asking him if he was happy to know he would take over the oh-so successful business, to which he obviously smiled and nodded but deep down he felt mad, almost furious, that people only expected him to do that. No one ever asked him about football, even though everyone knew he was good and even the best in the team and could grow so much more in that field if it weren’t for people like them who only cared about status and money. That’s not who Jake wants to become, selfish and greedy.
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The day came to an end, the sky had a pink and orange hue to it, creating a beautiful painting, pleasing and conforming to gaze at. You started organizing all the tools you had used, placing them in their respective place in the toolbox Heeseung had lent you. Distant chattering could be heard from the other boys playing around as they had also finished their work for the day. You were walking towards the bathroom to wash your hands when you heard someone call your name. 
“Hey, y/n!” You looked back to see Sunghoon, who called you, and the rest of the guys looking at you. “Come out for dinner with us, we’re going to the barbeque place downtown.” “Um, I don’t know guys, it’s gonna get late and we have work again tomorrow…” You said, scratching the back of your neck, suddenly feeling shy, not being used to going out with people you barely knew. “Oh come on, to celebrate your first day being one of us! It’s on Heeseung tonight!” Ni-ki said patting the older man on the back, who was about to complain but quickly agreed with the younger one as he felt him pinching him. “Yeah, y/n, don’t even worry about coming late tomorrow.” Your eyes flickered between all of them until you decided to agree with them, realizing that maybe you need to loosen up a little and stop being such a pussy. You sighed, nodding your head at them “Ok, fine! But I’m not paying!” You said raising your hands. The boys cheered dramatically, making you roll your eyes but laugh nonetheless. “Anyways, I’m going home to get ready, just text me later with the address.” Everyone bid their goodbyes and you made your way back to your car, ready to go home.
As you entered your house, your mom came to greet you, kissing your cheek in the process. “Hey, dear. How was your first day at work?” she asked you, grabbing your jacket and putting it into the coat hanger at your entrance. “Oh, it actually went really well. Wasn’t expecting to work as much as I did, but I’m proud that I could do that much.” “Ah, you must be so tired, honey! Was the lunch I made enough? Oh, maybe I should’ve-” “Mom,” you said laughing “It was more than enough, don’t worry about it, ok?” you reassured her, rubbing her arms that rested on her side as she looked tense. “Anyways, they all invited me to dinner so I’m gonna shower and get ready.” You kissed her cheek and ran upstairs towards your room.
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Dinner yesterday went smoothly. All your worries about not being able to get along with them were quickly thrown away when you found yourself talking with them like you’ve known them for ages. The night was filled with laughter, maybe because of the funny stories being shared or maybe it was the alcohol that everyone- except Ni-ki- had consumed. You were glad you were able to let yourself loose and enjoy the night to the max, you couldn’t remember the last time you had that much fun since you were always so busy with college and finals were kicking your ass. The last thing you remember doing that night was texting Sohee that you had gotten home safely and you had enjoyed the night.
Now you were waking up with the buzz of your alarm, opening your eyes only to close them right away when the bright sun rays hit your face. You sat up on the bed, feeling your head pound making you hiss at the strong feeling. You got up and walked to the bathroom scolding yourself to never drink on a work night again.
Driving to work today was painful, no matter how strong the medicine you took was or how much orange juice you drank, the pounding headache you got was not going away and the dark circles under your eyes also weren’t a very pleasant sight to see so you opted to wear a pair of sunglasses. You looked at the time and it marked 9:40 am, definitely not on time but no one could really blame you for being extra slow today and your mom also made sure to take a few more minutes from your time to scold you about being late out and drinking when you had work the next day.
Arriving at the shop, you saw everyone already there making you sigh, hating yourself for being the last one arriving at work. Walking inside you saw that no one was working, instead, they were all sitting at a table near the entrance, some of them laying their head down on the table and others drinking energy drinks to be able to go on with their day. “I don’t even know if it’s safe to say good morning.” you said sitting down next to them, plopping down on the chair, hissing at the quick movement that made the pounding sensation in your head stronger. No one was able to say anything so you were all sitting down in silence, looking at the cars driving by the shop. Any passer-by would think you had nothing to do when in fact there was way too much to do than any of you could. 
“Remind me to never do this again, please.” Jungwon said referring to going out until late, making everyone hum in agreement. Suddenly, Heeseung gets up, clapping his hands and then rubbing them together “Let’s get to work. These cars aren’t gonna fix themselves.” Everyone groaned at the older man’s words, some complaining, saying it would be fair to take a day one, only receiving Heeseung’s glare in return. “Anyways, y/n, I know you just got here, but I really need you to do me a favour,” Heeseung said, turning to you. You stared at him through your glasses in response “Pretty please?” He said lacing his hands together, making you sigh and roll your eyes. “Oh my god, fine! What is it then?” You said putting your hand on your hip with a sigh. “I need you to go downtown to pick up a parcel at the post. It has some pieces that I need for the car I'm fixing.” You said nothing in return aside from an I’ll be back soon as you entered the car.
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The drive back to the shop was awful, you were stuck in traffic for almost an hour and about to burst in anger. “If it wasn’t for Heeseung and his stupid parcel…” you said, talking to yourself. When you arrived back at the shop you were more than ready to throw hands at Heeseung, if the parcel weren’t so heavy you would be running in his direction. “I swear to God, Heeseung, if you ever, but ever make me go through all this traffic again, man, I swear on my life I won’t-” You stopped in your tracks when you saw what was in front of you. “Oh my good God, what in the good earth, I- oh my goodness.” you dropped the parcel on the floor as you approached Sunghoon who was near the entrance. “Hoon, please tell me I’m not seeing things and my eyes aren’t deceiving me.” You exclaimed, your eyes never moving away from the car in front of you. Sunghoon swore he never saw your eyes shining so brightly “Hoon, is this a freaking Ford Mustang from ‘69?” you said in a high-pitched voice as your hands made their way to your face, cupping your cheeks. It wasn’t until you heard a deep chuckle that you noticed a figure next to Sunghoon. You looked in the person’s direction and you were met with a beautiful, almost ethereal, face that was already looking at you, sporting a smirk, making you feel nervous under his strong gaze. Your eyes looked him up and down, noticing he was dressed in designer head to toe. His face was familiar to you but you couldn’t grasp any memory with his face on it.
“You like it?” he asked, nodding his head towards the car before you. You nodded at him with a hum, words suddenly stuck in your throat and you didn’t even dare to try and speak, fearing your voice would fail you. He chuckled at you, finding amusement in your shy behaviour. “You wanna touch it?” he asked raising his brow as his smirk turned into a beautiful grin. You felt your cheeks grow hotter than before and Sunghoon decided to intervene before Jake could keep going, sensing his suggestive undertone. “Ok, that’s enough for you two, geez!” he said rolling his eyes, before speaking again “Anyways, you can leave the car here and Heeseung or anyone will take care of it, you already know you’re in good hands here so no need to worry.” “Alright then, just call me when it’s done, yeah?” Jake said as he and Sunghoon dapped each other up before he left, not forgetting to wink and wave at you, to which you gave a small wave back. “Kids these days.” Sunghoon said sighing and shaking his head at you, making you frown at him. “Shut up!” you said slapping his arm as you walked past him to pick up the parcel you left on the floor.
You walked back inside the shop, finding Heeseung crouched on the floor as he cleaned some rims he just fixed. “Hey Hee, got your parcel here. Do you want me to put it somewhere or should I just leave it here?” you said as you approached his figure “Oh, you can just leave it in that chair, I’m gonna need that in a while.” he said getting up as he wiped his forehead with his arm. “By the way, Jake’s car, the one in the entrance, needs to get the left view mirror changed, he broke it while parking somewhere. So, since I'm working on this car and it’s gonna take me a while, you’re going to be the one fixing it.” Oh! That was definitely interesting and caught your attention. “Oh, sure, no problem. It shouldn’t take too long.” This was only great. Not only were you fixing one of your dream and favourite cars but you were fixing a hot guy's car. 
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Later that day you arrived home with a happy sigh. Even though you were feeling extra tired from the hangover and work altogether, you could only think about your new acquaintance, a hot one. It has been a long time since you’ve felt like this for someone or especially for a boy. After your most recent ex-boyfriend, you tried to focus more on yourself and your friends since he hadn’t allowed you to do so. Those were times that were long gone and you wanted to erase them from your memory as you moved on.
You had dinner with your parents and went upstairs to get ready to go to bed earlier than usual to recover those lost hours of sleep. You showered and did your usual night routine, being extra careful and allowing yourself to relax. As you sat in bed, you grabbed your phone, seeing multiple notifications, since you don’t use your phone during work, from texts from your friends and social media ones, but there was one that caught your attention. For a moment you thought you were having delusional visions, but as you clicked on it it took you directly to Jake’s Instagram profile and the top showed the Accept and Decline button. He had found his way to your profile and it had you giggling silently, making you feel like you were in high school all over again. It had been about 3 hours since he sent the request so it was safe to accept without looking like a creep. Taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you proceeded to answer your texts and update Sohee on the tea, so you called her.
“Sohee, I kid you not, he is so attractive, I can’t!” you heard her sigh for the nth time on the phone, feeling her eye roll through the screen. “Y/n, I’ve seen him plenty of times, and trust me, I know he is, but be careful, I heard some things about him, though.” “Don’t worry about that, it’s just a silly crush. I’ll be over it sooner or later.” Sohee sighed again and you could hear her moving around in her bed sheets. “Yeah, whatever. We’ll talk later. Heeseung is calling me.” After talking with Sohee you were left alone with your thoughts as you scrolled on your phone but you weren’t really paying any attention to any of the posts, as you were thinking about Sohee’s warning. You decided to put your phone down and go to sleep to calm the thoughts running through your mind. As you were feeling yourself fall into a slumber, you heard your phone buzz but you chose to ignore it. You turn to the other side, getting comfortable to fall asleep again but again, your phone buzzes making you sit up and grab it aggressively. You turned it on, the bright light making you squint your eyes as you turned the brightness down. You unlocked it, checking who was texting at this hour. You felt your heart pound, getting nervous, as you saw Jake had dmed you. You click on his text, not caring if it had only been seconds from his last text. 
simjaeyun_: hey :)                                                   11:37pm             
simjaeyun_: ignoring me now mnh?                        11:46 pm    
youruser: stalking me now huh?                              11:47 pm
youruser: didn’t take for the stalker type tbh          11:47 pm
Your heart started beating quicker when you saw how fast he started typing an answer.
simjaeyun_: then what type do you take me to be? 11:48 pm 
youruser: well                                                           11:48 pm
youruser: definitely the one who makes other people stalk you not the other way around. 11:48 pm 
simjaeyun_: maybe you just caught my attention like that ;) 11:48 pm
youruser: oh? did i now?                                           11:49 pm
simjaeyun_: maybe, find it out yourself :)                  11:49 pm
You looked at the texts, feeling a soft blush creeping on your cheeks as you hugged your knees to your chest. You decided to leave him on read, not really having an answer to his text but Jake himself wasn’t expecting to get one back. You looked at the ceiling, having lost all your sleep by now. You closed your eyes and sighed as you slid down your bed until you were laying down. You turned to the side, watching the moon from your window, which you usually left open since it helped you wake up. You closed your eyes, trying to sleep, as the image of the texts kept appearing in your head, keeping you awake for a while.
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The next day you woke up, remembering last night's events, making you clutch your sheets closer to your chest. You sat up on the edge of the bed, as you sighed and rubbed your face with your hands, making your way to the bathroom to do your routine and maybe it would help you keep your thoughts away from him.  You looked in the mirror as you brushed your teeth, glad to see your dark circles were already gone. You did your usual skincare routine and headed down to the kitchen to have breakfast, seeing your mom had made you some pancakes and a black coffee, which were placed neatly on the table where she was already eating.
“Good morning mom!” you greeted her with a smile as you sat in front of her. “Good morning, dear! Did you sleep well?” “Oh yeah, I did! I went to sleep earlier to recover from the hangover…” She sighed at your words as she gave you a warning look, reminding you of her scolding. “Is there a special occasion for you to make me breakfast?” You asked as you took a bite of pancakes. “Not really, can’t I be sweet for my daughter once in a while?” She answered and you squinted at her, knowing there was a reason behind it, she wasn’t one to do these things just because. “You came home smilier than usual. Anything special happened at work?” She asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as she could. You stopped your movement for less than a second but enough time for her to notice. “Um, not really, was just happy.” You said after taking a sip from your coffee and putting the mug down. “Are you sure it was just that?” She propped her elbows on the table with her hands intertwined, looking as if she was questioning you for a crime you did. “Yes, mom. I’m pretty sure.” She hummed, taking a sip from her tea. “Is that why you were squealing with Sohee on the phone last night?” You gasped at her words. “Mom! Were you eavesdropping on me?” You asked her shocked that she had heard you talking with Sohee. “Oh no, dear. You know I’m not one to do that. I just happened to be walking past your room and heard you all excited about a certain- oh what was the name?” She stopped, trying to remember “Oh! Jake! Yes, Jake. Now, you wanna tell me about that?” You blushed at her words as if you were caught doing something bad or she heard a secret of yours. “Mom! No!” You said getting up from your chair, leaving a small bit of pancake on your plate. “I’m leaving. I need to go to work. Bye, love you!” You started walking faster, rushing to the door after picking up your house and car keys.
You entered the car, thinking about the conversation with your mom, reminding yourself to be more careful when talking with Sohee on the phone. You reached the shop just on time, parking your car in your usual place, which by now, you claimed as yours. You walked inside, seeing Heeseung and Ni-ki talking about something about a car.
“Good morning guys!” you greeted as you put your lunch bag down. They both looked back at you, seeming relieved you were finally there. “Oh thank God you’re here.” Ni-ki sighed. “Yeah, what’s up?” You asked, intrigued as to what they needed you for. “So, we were discussing car designs for me to do in the car Heeseung is taking care of, but the problem is that we can’t agree on one design.” He started explaining as Heeseunf put his hands on his hips, rolling his eyes at the younger male. “So tell me. in between these which one is better?” He finished, showing pictures of different designs. You hummed in thought as you looked carefully at the pictures and the car behind them. “I think for this car these two thick stripes would fit the best, but that’s my opinion!” “See! I told you! You won’t listen to me. Y/n, he won’t agree with me, please help me.” Ni-ki said as he put his hands together in a plea. “Sorry, Hee. Gotta agree with him in this one.” Heeseung looked at you with a dumbfounded expression. “Don’t fire me?” You said shrugging your shoulders at him. The older man rolled his eyes, sighing as he finally gave in. “Fine, but only because it's two against one.” “Yeah, sure. Whatever you say hyung.” Ni-ki said leaving the area, you looked at him shrugging at him, “Kids these days.” he said under his breath in a mumble. 
You grabbed your stuff from where you had previously put it and took it into the staff room. Coming back to the area, you grabbed some gloves and put them on, ready to start working on Jake’s car. Heeseung had already put it in a space for you to fix it and besides it was a box with the side view mirror to replace to broken one. You’ve never changed a mirror before, but you remember one time when your dad did when your mom hit it on the wall while she was parking the car in the garage. It wasn’t much of a hassle, it was easy and simple. You opened the car’s door and you were met with the beautiful interior, which Jake had most likely renovated into a more modern one, but still had a vintage touch to it. The car smelled like a man’s perfume, probably his own, mixed with a leathery scent that came from the beautiful black leather seats with red details. Snapping out of your daze with the car’s interior you went back to work. You started by carefully taking out the mirror’s trim cover and removing the screws that were hidden.
As you were taking out the screws and putting them in a spare box, you felt a presence coming up behind you. Looking up, you found Sunghoon looking at you as he leaned on the car door. “Hey there!” you said as you kept doing your work. “Enjoying yourself, huh?” He said with a smug smirk adorning his face, making you roll your eyes. “Go away Sunghoon.” You said but still, you had a smile on your face. “It’s nothing special.” you finished. “You can’t be saying that when you acted how you did yesterday when you saw the car, practically fangirling over it. I mean, not to mention how you were fangirling over Ja-” “Shut up!” you said looking at him. “I wasn’t, you were seeing things.” Sunghoon laughed at your behaviour. “C’mon, no need to act shy now.” He started “You know, he texted me yesterday.” “Ok? And why should i care?” You said raising a brow at him. “He was asking me, or better, begging me to give him your Instagram.” You looked away from him as you felt your cheeks heat up. “I don’t know why he would do that!” You said, pretending to be interested in those screws. “Eh, you’ll eventually find out, I guess.” He said making you look back at him. “What is that supposed to mean.” You asked suddenly interested in what he had to say. He started walking away, his back turned to you “Nothing you should worry your pretty head about.” He answered, making you tilt your head, confused at his words. You sighed as you went back to working on that mirror.
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It wasn’t too long after your conversation with Sunghoon that little by little everyone started gathering in front of the staff-only door to eat lunch. You got up and joined Jungwon and Sunoo, who was engrossed in a conversation about the latest tea about someone on campus. You were so focused on observing and listening to them talk that you didn’t notice an extra someone entering the shop until Jay mentioned it.
“Jake? What are you doing here man?” That made your ears perk up, but you pretended to still be listening to the gossip you were previously listening to. “Your mirror still isn’t fixed, so no luck for you today.” Heeseung said also greeting him with the handshake their group shared. You looked at them at the mention of the mirror, so it wouldn’t look as suspicious. “Yeah, I figured. Just wanted to join you guys for lunch.” He said raising his take-out bag. You heard someone gasp, looking you saw Ni-ki looking with heart eyes at the take-out bag. “Is that for us?” He said with his boxy smile. Everyone looked at Jake with hopeful eyes. “What? No, it’s mine! And no way in hell I’m sharing this with you guys.” Jake said in a warning tone. Everyone groaned and rolled their eyes at him “You’re literally no fun.” Sunoo said giving him a judging look. Jake simply shrugged as he looked around the room until his eyes met yours, making him bite back a smirk. Sunghoon, who was watching carefully and aware of the situation, nudged you slightly when Jake looked away, making you mouth a what? at him which he only answered with a smirk.
You all moved inside the staff room, sitting around the round table. Jake was sitting across from you and you were sitting in between Sunghoon and Ni-ki. Every time you looked up you would be met with Jake’s eyes staring into you shamelessly, making you bounce your feet nervously. Your eyes drifted towards Sunghoon and you were able to see the smirk he was hiding with food while looking between you and Jake until he finally noticed you looking at him, making him raise his eyebrows at you to which you answered with a shrug as you looked back to your food. You wondered if Jake was going to talk to you anytime today. Since he arrived today he hadn’t even spoken a word to you, not even a simple Hi, making you wonder if he was only the all-talk type through social media or if he just didn’t have the guts to talk to you personally, but still, he had no problem flirting and teasing you when you guys first met.
Lunch was over and you got back to work. Jake hadn’t gone away yet, lingering around the shop, mainly around Heeseung as they talked about things you couldn’t listen to. The sudden realization that you were working on his car hit and you wondered if he was gonna approach you in a way. Snapping out of your thoughts, you went back to finish fixing the mirror, already more than halfway done. You were putting everything back in place, with the mirror already replaced, when you saw Jake walking towards you from your peripheral vision. You felt your breath hitch as your shoulders tensed the closer he got.
“I see you finally got to touch it, huh?” He said, putting his hands in his pockets. “Oh! Yeah, I did.” You answered with an awkward laugh, feeling your palms getting sweaty. “Like what you felt, sweetheart?” Your eyes widen at that, suddenly feeling at a loss for words. You were more than sure if any other man would’ve said that to you, you would’ve cringed right away, but not when said man looked like Jake did. “I- well-” Jake started laughing, making you feel somewhat embarrassed. “I’m just playing around. You’re not that shy through texting.” He said reminding you of how confident you may have sounded through texts. “Well, I guess it’s not the same as talking face-to-face, right?” You stated, looking up at him in the eyes. His mouth opened to say something but closed right away. “Yeah, you’re right.” He took a breath in as he straightened his posture.  “Anyways, is the mirror any close to being done?” He wondered. “Oh yeah, actually I just need to test it and it’s all ready for you to take it home!” You said while smiling at him, proud that you were able to do something new quickly yet carefully. “Oh really? You were pretty quick. Can’t say I’m not impressed, though, in a positive way, of course.” You giggled at him. “Thanks, Jake. I appreciate that.” He smiled warmly at you, nodding your way as he walked away from you, leaving you alone to finish your work.
It was almost time to go home when Jake and Heeseung approached you next to Jake’s car, where you were slightly bent over, as you were touching up some scratches near the mirror area with touch-up black paint. You finished the work, smiling proudly at yourself, as you turned around to face the two boys who were watching you silently as you worked. You sighed happily at them, adjusting the oversized overalls that you wore for work. “I’m officially done!” You exclaimed as you stretched an arm towards the car. Heeseung patted Jake in the back signaling him to get him and his car home. “You can pay me later.” Heeseung said walking away, knowing if he stayed Jake would insist on paying. Jake sighed as he looked at you. “Thank you for doing this, by the way.“ He said with a smile, making you shrug. “You’re welcome, Jake. After all, it’s my job.” You answered, looking down as you kicked non-existent rocks. Jake gave you a wide grin, watching your face, appreciating the way your lashes touched your cheeks when you blinked and how you bit your lip when you were nervous. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” With that, he walked towards his car. “Tomorrow?” You tilted your head to the side but you got no response as he got in his car. The engine purred as he drove out of the garage, leaving you standing dumbfounded. “Will I ever figure him out?”
Jake got home with only one thing, or rather someone, going through his mind. As cliché as it felt for him, he couldn’t understand what was in you that made him want to stay glued to you forever. He wanted to get to know you, know what you liked and disliked, and what were your hobbies. Did you have a pet? You didn’t really look like you had one. As soon as he entered his penthouse, he made his way to his room, falling into his bed with a thud, sighing as he felt his head make contact with his fluffy pillows. He still could feel his heart thumping in his chest, quicker than it ever beat. It felt weird, a good weird. He liked the feeling. One he only ever felt with his high school crush who had rejected him in his junior year. Jake groaned out loud as his arm fell to his face, covering his eyes. “What have you done to me?”
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The past week was full of work. Everyone barely interacted, focused on getting everyone’s car fixed since it’s vacation season and everyone needed their car as soon as possible. Still, one thing everyone found weird was how Jake came to visit almost every day, something that never really happened through all these years everyone had worked there. Sunghoon always made sure to point out to you that Jake was always lingering close to you, making you give him annoyed remarks. Deep down you were glad he stood close to you as you got time to know him better and to your surprise he was more interesting than you ever thought a jock would be, no offence. You two would laugh with each other for hours until Heeseung needed to scold you to go back to work, hiding his smile as he watched you two playfully fight each other. His presence made work hours go by quicker and you started enjoying his presence a little bit too much, noticing the way your heart would beat a tad bit faster when you heard him laugh at something you said.
When you were done with work Jake would take you out and grab convenience store food for you two to eat in the park. It was in those moments that you both got vulnerable with each other, sharing all of your life stories, good and bad ones. Every night you call Sohee and rant about how scared you are of catching feelings for him, even though you knew you were already in deep, and she always reassured you that you shouldn’t feel like that as it’s only natural and what has to happen, will happen. Whatever you were feeling with Jake, is something you never felt with anyone before, as cliché as it can be, but your past dating history left a huge mark on you and you had a tendency to shut people out when they got too close, until now. The boys noticed a subtle shift in the way you and Jake interacted, but still, they only observed from afar, never intruding on whatever was happening between you two. It felt kind of weird for them to see Jake behaving that way around someone who wasn’t part of his friend group or more specifically with a girl, but deep down they felt happy seeing their friend finally letting himself loosen up.
The day at the shop was going smoothly, it was a bad day of work for Heeseung. There were no clients coming up and everyone except him was sitting around playing cards or just talking to each other as he finished fixing one car. You were sat at a table with Sunoo and Sunghoon, your hands covering your ears as they kept asking questions you didn’t wanna hear and less likely answer. “Come on, y/n!” Sunoo said pulling your hands out of your ears, making you roll your eyes. “I don’t like him, ok?” You sighed, “I literally met him, like, not even two weeks ago. I don’t even know him like that.” “y/n, you know damn well it’s not like that.” Sunghoon said leaning back in his chair. “Just admit you like him!” “Like who?” The three of you looked back to find Jake walking towards you with his hands in his pockets. “No one, I don’t like anyone.” You said closing your eyes as you propped your head in your hand. Jake looked at Sunghoon, as the latter smirked at him, making you glare not-so discreetly at him. Jake sat in a free chair next to you and the two other men thought it was a good idea to stand up and walk away, leaving you two alone.
“Bad work day?” He started. “Yeah, something like that.” You sighed, playing with a paper cup in front of you. “It’s just the end of the month and most people are on vacation by now so it was expected.” Jake hummed, an idea coming up to him. “So you have nothing to do, right?” You looked at him wondering why he was asking that. “Uh, yeah, I don’t.” You answered nodding at him. He got up, extending a hand to you. “Come.” He said as he smiled and nodded his head towards his way. You hesitated in grabbing his hand and getting up as he dragged you to his car. “But, the other we need to tell-” “Don’t worry ‘bout that. We’ll be quick.” Jake said as he opened his car door for you. You looked at the car and then at him, making him nod at you, urging you to get in. Jake sat in the driver's seat with a happy sigh. He looked at him, watching as you admired his car, gently touching the leather seats, feeling the wealth in your touch. You looked around the car in awe, making him giggle at your antics. You turned to look at him with a blush and a small smile, feeling shy he caught you as you admired his expensive car. He turned the keys, making the engine purr as you felt the seats vibrate with the loud sound. “Wow!” You said with a gasp “It feels so different when you’re actually inside the car.” You looked at him as he drove out of the shop’s driveway. “Yeah, I felt that too when I first drove it.” He said with a chuckle. “Where are you taking me?” You asked curiously. “You’ll see, princess. Enjoy the ride for now.” He answered as he chose a song to play for the ride. 
You looked out of your window, seeing the sun almost setting, making the sky turn into an orange explosion. The ride was silent, a comfortable silence, and you found yourselves in an empty road, no words needed to be spoken as you admired the view ahead of you. You rolled your window down, laying your head on the edge of the door. Jake looked at you, admiring your hair that flew freely with the wind and how your eyes were shining in awe and you wore a smile. He looked back to the front and he bit a smile back, failing to do so as the corners of his lips curled upwards. Jake was now driving towards a kind of abyss. He stopped the car, turning off the engine. “Is this it?” You asked making him nod at you with a smile. You both walked out of the car and sat in its hood. You gasped at the view in front of you. You could see the whole city from above. All the tall skyscrapers looked tiny and the street lights were only small dots on a canvas. The sky above showed a pink and orange painting, and the sun had almost fully set.
“Jake” he looked at you, admiring your side profile “This is beautiful.” You finished, looking at him with a big grin, making him mirror your actions. You looked back ahead as you scooted closer to him in the hood of the car, feeling your shoulder touch his. Jake smiled to himself, not daring to look your way to avoid doing something he would regret. “Thank you.” You said looking at him, seeing how his eyes slightly widened. He looked down at his feet, feeling his ears get hotter “It’s nothing really.” “How did you even find this place?” You wondered. “This is gorgeous!” Jake finally looked at you, examining your face, sensing you were asking a genuine question and not just a rhetorical one. “Well,” He started with a sigh. “I usually come here to kind of unwind a little.” He said kicking some rocks on the floor. “It just tunes me out the rest of the world. I feel the best when I’m here.”
He felt the urge to keep talking as he felt you still looking at the side of his head. “Normally when I have a big argument with my dad I just come here and let everything out. No one comes here since it’s far from the city so now it’s my comfort place and I’ve never brought anyone here except for you.” He stopped talking, looking at you, seeing you with empathetic eyes. “Thank you for sharing that with me Jake.” You rubbed his back in a comforting way “I’m glad you trust me enough to tell me all that, I know it’s not easy to deal with those kinds of problems, even if I never went through them myself. I hope you know I’m a shoulder you can lean on when you need one. You shouldn’t keep those thoughts to yourself.” Jake felt his eyes getting teary as he heard you talk. “I really appreciate that, y/n. I just feel like you give me so much of you and I never really shared something really intimate, so I thought this would feel just right.” He said holding his tears. You smiled at him, pulling his arm, grabbing it as you leaned your head on his shoulder, looking back to the view as a comfortable silence fell over you two. Jake’s head leaned in yours and he felt a soft bubble form in his chest, making him close his eyes and take a deep breath in of the fresh air that danced around both of your hairs.
The sun fully set after a while. Stars started appearing in the dark sky. “Look,” You said pointing to the sky “The first star of the night. Make a wish!” You finished as you looked at Jake. “A wish?” You nodded “Alright if you say so.” Both of you closed your eyes and put your hands together as you made your wishes. Jake opened his eyes to look at you, seeing you with your eyes closed and a giddy smile on your lips. You opened your eyes, looking at Jake only to find him already looking down at you, the summer breeze made his hair move beautifully. “What did you wish for?” he asked “Can’t tell you, it won’t come true if I do.” Jake chuckled at your answer, making you do the same. You both stared into each other eyes, not daring to look away as if you were in some trance with each other's eyes, giving you time to appreciate each other’s features. You couldn’t understand how people could view Jake as a bad being. Since the moment you both started getting closer, he was nothing but a sweetheart to you and besides that, you saw how he treated the other boys as well, always being caring with them, giving them food when one of them didn’t have enough or going as far as secretly ordering take out for Ni-ki when he had forgotten to pack his own lunch. They didn’t know him in reality. If they had seen him with your eyes they would know he wouldn’t do anything to hurt anyone or anything purposely. They couldn’t see the sparkle in his eyes when he saw dogs playing in the park or the way his tongue would slightly poke his pouty lips when he focused on something. If only they could see him the way you do.
Your phone suddenly buzzed in your pocket, making you break the intense eye contact that seemed to last an eternity. You looked at the contact ID seeing it was your mom calling you, making you silently curse under your breath. “Hey, mom.” You turned to Jake, mouthing him a Sorry which he dismissed with a shake of his head. “Uh…” Your eyes started moving around nervously “I, uh, I’m with Jake, Mom.” You hissed, scratching the back of your neck. Your mom started going off excitedly about how she was right about him, making you roll your eyes, hoping the said man couldn’t hear what she was saying. “Um, Mom, I don’t- okay wait.” You turned to Jake with a sigh “You wanna come over for dinner?” You asked him, making him still for a moment. “Uh, sure, I mean, why not.” He answered shrugging, something you weren’t really expecting, but deep down you were kind of glad he had accepted. “Okay, he’s coming. Yeah, see you, bye Mom.” You hung up, standing up and looking at Jake. He only looked at you, not knowing what to say. “C’mon.” You pulled him off the hood “We got dinner waiting for us.” 
You were driving back to the city, immersed in a conversation about various topics. “Also, I’m gonna warn you about my mom, she can be a little too much sometimes, so sorry in advance.” Jake laughed at your words. “Don’t say that. I’m pretty sure she means well.” He said looking at you. “If that makes you feel better about meeting her, then sure Jake, whatever you say.” Shortly after, Jake was pulling into your house’s driveway, making you feel nervous, the fact that he was meeting your parents finally sinking in. You don’t know why you felt like this, you two weren’t even dating. You walked to your front door and searched for the keys that were somewhere lost in your bag. Suddenly the door burst open, making you squeal in surprise as you almost tripped and if it weren’t for Jake you would’ve fallen on your butt. “Oh, what gentleman he is!” The door was fully open, revealing your mom who was now cooing at Jake. “Mom, don't.” you said in a warning tone, making her wave her hand at you dismissingly. “Oh, you must be Jake.” She said grabbing him by the arms “Come in you two.” She invited, making space for you to enter the house. “How was day, dear?” Your mom asked, making you break the mad face you were making at her with a small smile. “It was okay. We didn’t have any clients today which is not good for the shop.” “Oh, that must be really frustrating for you guys.” She said furrowing her brows in a worried way. “Anyways, let’s get to the kitchen. The food’s getting cold.” She smiled warmly at you two as she dragged you both to the kitchen. “Is dad not home?” You said with a small pout. “Oh no, he’s out for that company dinner he had. You know it.” You nodded at her letting out an Oh as you remember your father talking about it.
Jake tried to hide it, but as small as this interaction was, it was still a very domestic one. Those were the interactions he longed for but they never came to him. He felt a pang in his chest but your mom’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “Give me your plate, dear. I’ll serve you.” She said smiling warmly at him, making him mirror her expression. Your mom seemed so sweet and he genuinely wanted to enjoy this small moment. 
The three of you talked comfortably throughout the night. Jake was able to get those negative thoughts out of his head for a while as he interacted with you both. He loved watching you talk with your mom, seeing the way your eyes light up when she says something that makes you laugh. Just watching that made him smile, which didn’t go unnoticed by your mom. Jake saw his phone light up on the table with a text from his dad asking him where he was and another from a contact he promised himself to never answer again. This made his whole good mood disappear and he just felt like going home. He felt guilty to do this but felt the need to be alone and forget about those texts.
“Everything alright?” you asked with a worried expression, just then he noticed he had his brows pressed tightly together. “Oh um, yeah, just my dad texting me.” He said smiling at you, guilt eating him up, but deep down he wasn’t lying, just not telling the whale truth, which made him feel shitty. “It’s getting late so maybe I should go. Thank you for the meal, it was really good!” He got up, grabbing his jacket from the chair. You got up as well and followed him to your front door as your mom stayed in the kitchen cleaning up. “Hey,” You said grabbing his attention “Are you sure you’re alright? You looked pretty tense back there.” You asked in a worried tone. He sighed, nodding at you. “Yes, princess. Don’t worry about it. I’ll text you when I get home, yeah?” You nodded at him and you bid your goodbyes. Before he could leave, you grabbed his wrist. “Thank you for today, really.” You smiled widely at him, making him chuckle at you “You’re welcome, princess. Good night.” You let his hand go as you waved at him before closing the door. You turned around to see your mom leaning on the kitchen door. You held your hand up “Don’t even start, ok?” you said not wanting to have that conversation. “Dind’t day a word, honey.” She said smiling at you. “Whatever. Goodnight, Mom.” “Goodnight, dear.”
You let yourself fall into the comfort of your bed with a sigh. You grabbed your phone, seeing a notification from Jake, making you quickly tap on it. 
jake &lt;3: thank you for tonight, princess :)
jake &lt;3: sorry for leaving so suddenly. my dad texted me and you know how it is…
you: jake you don’t need to thank me 
you: we were both glad to have you eat with us and dont worry about that i totally understand
you: im gonna head to sleep now. goodnight jake :) 
jake &lt;3: goodnight princess:) 
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The next day at work you felt kind of uneasy. The way Jake left your house yesterday left you with an unsettling feeling. You didn’t know what his dad had texted him and you surely weren’t gonna ask him, you were in no place to do that. It was already 5:30 pm and Jake still hadn’t stopped by the shop, something unusual since he always comes by lunchtime. You didn’t want to think too much of it and tried to convince yourself that he was just busy. As you were cleaning up a car you just finished fixing, you heard footsteps coming towards you, making you look to see Heeseung and Sunghoon. “Lover boy didn’t come today, huh?” Sunghoon said making you roll your eyes before turning to look at them, now standing up from your crouching position. “He’s not my lover and you know that damn well.” you said propping your hand on your hip. “Yet!” Heeseung says with a stupid grin on his face.
“Anyways, we’re going to this party tonight and we wanted to invite you so you better be there.” the older male said. “Uh, I don’t know, guys. I’m not really-” “Not in the mood, yeah we know. Same story and it’s not working today. You are going today, no excuses.” Sunghoon paused for a while “You know, Jake’s gonna be there.” he said with a smirk. You lightly tapped your foot on the floor, knowing you didn’t really have a choice other than going and if you ended up going you would see Jake. Not that you missed him, maybe just a little bit though.  “Fine, I guess I can go.” you sighed, crossing your arms “Where and when?” Heeseung gave you the details about the party, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad with Jake there. Even if you were still kind of sour about him not coming, you were sure he had a good reason not to, right?
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You walked up to your mirror, checking yourself out one last time before leaving. You lightly rubbed your finger under your lips, cleaning a lipstick smudge. You looked at your outfit, a simple lace, black corset-like top paired with some black leather pants and black heels. The top felt a little too revealing for you, but you decided to come out of your comfort zone for once and try new things. You felt pretty. Your hair was just right, your makeup looked flawless and your outfit was tight just in the right places, flattering your silhouette. Tonight was the night and you were going to enjoy it to the fullest. Sohee had previously texted you, informing you she would also be there with Heeseung, which made you less stressed about this party. You drove to the address Heeseung had texted you, the clock showed 11:45, a reminder that you were 15 minutes late. “Typical y/n, am I right?” you mumbled to yourself when you stopped at a red light. Taking one last turn, you saw a sign with the name of the bar Hee had told you. You parked your car and walked towards the entrance, feeling the biting wind hit your skin, making you regret not taking a small coat with you. You entered the bar and it was already almost full since it was almost midnight. You passed and pushed through the crowd of people Excuses me’s and Sorry’s leaving your lips as you did so. Finally, you were able to spot a tall ash blond who could only be Heeseung and walked towards him.
“Hey and before you scold me, yes I know I’m late.” you said as you and Sohee hugged before taking a seat next to Jay. “Wouldn’t expect any different from you.” Sunghoon said making you let out Shup up to him. You looked around and saw everyone there except for one person. “Where’s Jake?” you asked still looking around, failing to notice the exchange of looks between the four of them. “He’s- Well, he is with some guys from the soccer team, yeah.” Sungoon said, a nervous smile dancing on his lips, making you tilt your head at him “Weird.” you thought out loud. “But don’t worry!” Sunoo said, making you look at him “He’ll probably be here… soon.” “Okay?” you answered, looking at Sohee who was just as confused as you were. There was an unfamiliar tension in the booth and before you could think further about it Heeseung spoke up “No more talking. Let’s get the night started and get drinks!” Everyone got up, greedy to finally get some alcohol in their systems, maybe that’s what you needed. You reached the counter and Heeseung ordered tequila shots for everyone. The shots were gone as quickly as they came and everyone was thirsting for more so Sunghoon ordered six more of the same. 
You and Sohee made your way towards the dance floor full of sweating bodies. You were buzzing inside with the little alcohol in your system and the lights were making you dazed in the best way possible. It had been a long time since you and Sohee hung out like this and you were enjoying this just as much as she was. You had your arms thrown over her shoulders as she hugged your waist and you both swayed to whatever music was playing. The boys were looking at you with pure amusement on their faces, never having seen you like this but they were glad you were enjoying this night so far. Your body felt hot from the heat radiating from everyone around you. You saw couples kissing and grinding against each other and it made your mind wander to Jake and wonder if you and he were ever gonna dance like that like it was just the two of you in the room with no one to interrupt you both. You and your best friend went back to the counter to order drinks for yourselves while the boys went back to the booth.
“Can I get two Pink Whitneys with Sprite, please?” the bartender nodded at you before leaving to prepare the drinks. “Was wondering if you could still party, y/n” Sohee told you laughing. “Oh, shut up. It hasn’t been that long.” You both turned back to the counter when you heard the bartender speak. “For the pretty ladies.” He said putting the drinks in front of you, both of you mumbling Thanks in return. You closed your eyes as you savoured the drink you hadn’t tasted in a long time. “God, I forgot how much I love this.” You said taking a big sip of the pink drink. “Brings back old memories doesn’t it?” Sohee said leaning back as if she was having a flashback. Even though you were a stay-at-home person, back in the first years of college you went partying almost every night since Sohee was a social butterfly and always made sure to bring you along to whatever party she was invited to. Every time Heeseung would host a party, he made sure to have a hidden bottle of Pink Whitney in a small fridge that only he and the boys knew of for you and Sohee. You laughed at her as you tilted the cup towards her for a toast. “For old time’s sake.” She clinked her glass with yours “For old time’s sake!” she said before finishing her drink in one big gulp as she did the same. 
You two got up, making your way to the booth the guys were at. Your vision was starting to blur from all the drinks you had. Only had your low alcohol tolerance to blame. You were trying to walk through the crowd when you spotted a familiar brunette in the middle of it. “Look! Jake’s there, let’s say hi!” you said pushing Sohee towards his way. The grin you had on your face started to slowly fade as your steps got slower. The closer you got to Jake the stronger the pang in your chest grew. You squeezed Sohee’s hand trying to get her attention but she had already seen enough. You two stood there watching as a girl eagerly kissed Jake’s neck, his face was hidden since he was looking opposite from where you were. “Jake?” You felt a pull on your heartstrings and a whimper left your quivering lips when Jake turned his head to the side and made eye contact with you. His face wasn’t showing any emotions previously, quickly contorted with shock as a gasp left his lips, making him immediately push the girl away. Still, Sohee was quicker to pull you away from where you were standing. She was letting out some curses on her way to the booth, something that you couldn’t hear.
When you finally reached the other boys they all were looking at you with worried expressions. Their eyes flickered between each other and you were finally able to catch on what was happening when you arrived. “You guys knew?” you said with a choked sob. None of them were saying a word, making your blood boil when you got your answer. “You all fucking knew this whole time.” you screamed, pointing your finger at them accusingly. “How long has it been going on?” Jay was quick to speak up. “It was just today.” he started. “We didn’t know she was gonna be here and I don’t think Jake knew either.” You were starting to get even more confused “What do you mean she?” you asked shaking your head. They all looked at each other not knowing what to say. “Heeseung, did you know about this?” Sohee asked her boyfriend, and he quickly shook his head no. “No, i swear. None of us knew and as he said it was probably a not-so-pleasant surprise for Jake as well.” Knowing that everyone knew who she was and they weren’t explaining it to you was leaving you irritated and you just wanted to leave. “Sohee can we just go home.” you quietly asked and she ran a hand down your back in a soothing manner. “Yeah, give me your car keys, I’ll drive.” You both turned to leave, no words were exchanged apart from a Drive safely from Heeseung.
When you sat in your car you felt like something exploded inside you as you started sobbing uncontrollably. You hid your face in your hands as you started sobbing. Sohee reached for you, holding you in her embrace. “I don’t even know why I’m crying it’s not like we had something.” you said trying to wipe your tears but they just kept coming. “Y/n, it wouldn’t take a genius to see that something was going on between you two. I can’t honestly understand why Jake would be with someone else, especially her.” “Will anyone ever tell me who she is?” you said in an annoyed tone. Sohee sighed as she sat back in the driver’s seat. “That girl was Aerin. Jake and her were in a weird situationship, kind of friends with benefits but not quite that. They had that going on for almost a year but he eventually broke it off because he finally opened his eyes and realized how much of a bitch she was, even though we were warning him since the beginning.” she paused with a sigh. “She didn’t take it very well since she had always been possessive with him but we thought she finally had gotten over it, it’s been, like, a year and something?” she turned to look at you, seeing you with your head propped in your knees. She raised her hand to cup your cheek, brushing it softly with her thumb.
“I just don’t understand why he would do this, after all that we’ve been through.” You said feeling tears coming back, pooling in your eyes. “Sohee, I let all of my guard down for him, I told him my everything and this feels like history is repeating itself, you know?” You told her as memories from your history with your ex brought you a sour feeling “Y/n, whatever happened between you and Jeno is long behind, I thought we had already talked about this.” “I am over it, Sohee! But seeing Jake do this is just bringing all those feelings back. Six months right after I opened up to Jeno I find out he was cheating on me with the girl I shouldn’t worry about and now when I finally feel like I can commit to someone again, I see Jake like that, how is that fair to me?” you said turning into a sobbing mess again. Your whole body was shaking and Sohee felt her heart shatter seeing her best friend like this.
“Y/n, I know this really isn’t the right time to say this but I’ve known Jake for as long as I’ve been dating Heeseung and I can’t understand why he is doing this. This really isn’t like him, at all.” She rubbed your back “I’m more than sure he will explain himself to you soon. This just doesn't sit right with me.” You wiped your eyes as you sniffed “I don’t want to see him anytime soon, Sohee.” She smiled sadly at you. “I know, honey, But you know it will eventually happen right? It’s inevitable.” You nodded at her, knowing she was right. “Let’s go home yeah? You can stay at mine today. Don’t want you dealing with this alone.” 
Sohee drove off as you stared out the window. Millions of thoughts were running through your head and you felt like it was about to explode. Eventually, you fell asleep during the ride and only woke up when Sohee softly shook you when you arrived. You both entered her apartment, being immediately greeted by her cat who was rubbing herself in your legs. You crouched down to her level, rubbing behind her fluffy white ears, making her purr. Oh to be a cat. Sohee gave you one of her pyjamas for you to sleep in and some makeup wipes, knowing you probably wouldn’t even bother to take it off. You both slipped into her bed, sleeping together like you two would back in the day. You laid back against the headboard as she texted Heeseung to update him. Your own phone buzzed on the bedside table. You grabbed it and saw a notification that normally you would be excited to answer, but not today. You read the texts Jake had sent you.
jake &lt;3: y/n please                                                   
jake &lt;3: i know what it looks like but it isn’t like that 
jake &lt;3: let me explain please                                     
jake &lt;3: you know id never hurt you.                        
You dropped your phone in your lap as you rubbed your eyes with your hands, starting to sniff again. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to stop the tears as you sighed and leaned back against the headboard. Sohee looked at your phone and then at you, making her sigh. “Where did i go wrong? I must’ve done something really bad in my past life to deserve this.” “Y/n, cut the nonsense, you don’t deserve this, ok?” she said grabbing your arms and turning to look at her. “You’re gonna get through this with me and when you’re ready you’re gonna go back to work and maybe talk with Jake, yeah?” You took a deep breath before nodding at her. “Good. Now you’re gonna rest and tomorrow we’ll see what’s gonna happen.” She grabbed your phone and turned it off, putting it on her bedside table. She turned the light off and you let your head fall into the pillow with a sigh. You stared at the ceiling, trying to shake off all the thoughts going through your head until you felt your eyes closing on their own.
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The weekend had gone by slowly. You had texted your mom after everything happened to tell her you were gonna stay at Sohee’s for a few days. All you did was mop around the house and lay in your friend’s bed all day, only getting up when you really needed to. You were sure you were sleeping more than 12 hours a day and still felt like the energy was drowning out of you. Sohee tried to get you to go out and encourage you to go to work to help you forget things but the anxiety you felt at the possibility of encountering Jake was keeping you from doing so. You knew that staying home all day and doing nothing until Sohee came back from work wasn’t gonna help you in any way and you honestly wanted to do something about it but you had no energy to do anything. You walked to the kitchen for nth time that day, placing your cereal bowl on the sink with an accidental loud thud, making you hiss. You sighed as you looked at the mess of plates and cutlery you had accumulated in the sink within just a day. “God, what am I doing.” You said talking to yourself. You stared into nothingness as you got in deep thought. Being like this wasn’t gonna take you anywhere and avoiding situations where you might meet Jake won’t either. So, you made the final decision that you were going to work tomorrow, no matter what. You looked at the clock on the kitchen’s wall and saw it was already 6:30 pm, so without any more self pity you walked to the bathroom to take a shower, determined to get back to your usual work routine. You stared at your figure in the mirror and almost apologized to yourself as you took in your messy and unkempt appearance. You entered the shower and let the warm water fall on your tense shoulders. Sighing, you let your head lean into the shower wall as your body shook with a sob when Jake filled your mind again. Had he tried texting you anymore after that night? You couldn’t really know since you had blocked him on your social media. Was he hurting the way you did? What had really happened? Maybe you were overreacting all this. You should’ve let him explain himself. Dumb y/n, so dumb. 
Jake felt horrible. You really had to come near him at the wrong moment and see something that really wasn’t what it looked like. But he should’ve known the moment she texted him the night he was at your house she was serious. Why couldn’t Aerin just get over the fact they weren’t together anymore, as if they were ever actually together. In his head, it was starting to be too good to be true. As if he was ever gonna get lucky with someone like you. Of course, he had to fuck it up in any way. It’s all your fault, Jake. This was all you. Those words kept repeating themselves in his head as he laid in his bed as his whole body was filled with piercing anxiety. He didn’t know what else to do. He called Heeseung and said you still hadn’t gone to work that week.
The boys knew about the situation and Jake always tried to explain himself while he cried on the phone with any of the guys, even if they reassured him they believed him every day. He should’ve known better than to get involved with Aerin in the first place. He had always been warned about it so why did he still do it? Why couldn’t he just do anything right. The past few days were spent with Jake lying in his bed as he cried and cried for as long as he could. All the feelings he bottled up for so long left his body, making his whole self shake. When he finally was able to open up fully to you, he had it all taken away, knowing you had let your whole guard down for him. He knew you weren’t doing any better than him and that hurt him even more. Knowing he couldn’t be the one to hold you and comfort you was killing. Jake knew he couldn’t stay like this forever and all he wanted to do nothing more than reach out to you and tell you his truth but he knew he had to give you space. So he waits for as long as he needs to because he is not letting you go because of her, he wasn’t letting that happen.
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You woke up at the same time as Sohee. The moment you opened your eyes you instantly felt a pang in your chest, knowing you had to go to work today. You threw your arm over your eyes as you sighed. Sohee looked at you as she rubbed her eyes to wake herself up. “Good morning.” she told you to which you only answered with a grumble making her chuckle at you. She got out of bed, opening her curtains, making you squint at the bright light invading the room. “C’mon, get up. You need to get ready.” You sighed again at her words before sitting up on the bed. After you both got ready for work, you sat down at the table as you had breakfast together. “So,” Sohee said mid-chew “are you ready for today?” You looked at her as you sipped on your coffee. “I mean, no. But as you said I can’t keep avoiding him and it’s better if we talk already than not.” You answered as your fork played with the blueberries on your plate. “You got this, yeah?” Sohee reached for your hand across the table. You inhaled as you felt your eyes water but you held yourself back. You nodded at her as you whispered a Yeah in response to her.
You left around 10 am which was the time Sohee usually left for work. As you made your way to the shop, anxiety started bubbling up in your chest, making you take deep breaths to try and keep yourself together. There’s nothing to worry about. If Jake ended up showing up at the shop you guys were just gonna talk, or maybe not. Maybe he will explain to you and assure you it was not what it looked like or maybe he wasn’t and it was exactly what it looked like. “Well, shit.” you said to yourself as you arrived at the shop. You parked your car, seeing everyone already there. You stepped out of the car, taking a deep breath of the fresh morning air breeze around you. You walked inside and there stood Heeseung and Sunghoon staring at you with warm smiles. “Hey guys!” you greeted. You walked towards them and Sunghoon pulled you into a hug, making you let out a shaky breath. “How’ve you been, dummy?” He asked, letting you go of his arms. “Well, y’know, not good. But! I’m here to change that and yes I’m going to avoid that conversation, if you don’t mind.” They nodded their heads at you, Right and Of course! were their only answers before you asked Heeseung if there was any work for you to which he assigned you to check a car’s engine and gasket. 
You got right to work and you were glad you could distract yourself for most of the time. The car needed to get his gasket changed and it wasn’t an easy task so you needed to have your full focus on it. Working made the day go by faster and you barely had time to lunch as you were so immersed in the task you were assigned to do. Sometimes Ni-ki would linger around you, mostly joking around as you worked, keeping you company, which you were glad he did. If anyone had told you you would’ve ended up getting a summer job at a mechanic shop and befriending the six workers you wouldn’t believe it. But you couldn’t be more glad that you did, you had quickly made six precious friendships with six boys who were all you could ask for in a friend. As someone who never found befriending people easy, you were quite proud of yourself as you had found six treasures in only a lifetime. You knew you could always rely on them, and despite the age gap between the two younger ones, you still would trust them with your life nonetheless.
You felt sweat dripping down your forehead as you worked, making you get up from your bent-over position to wipe the sweat with your forearm, adjusting the strap from your overall that was slipping off your shoulder. “God.” You sighed loudly. Heeseung slid from underneath a car to check on you, “Everything ok?” he asked sitting up. “I guess. Just this thing is harder than I thought it would be.” You said putting your hands on your hips as you stared at the engine in thought. You knew this was gonna be hard, but one wrong move you would need to do it all over. Heeseung got up and walked to where you stood staring at the car. “I think you’re going on the right path. Nothing is looking wrong or weird so keep going.” He said patting your back “You’re doing well, you always do.” You chuckled at his words “You flatter me, Lee.” He laughed at your words “All for the best of my wor-” 
His words were cut off by the roar of an engine. A familiar Ford Mustang pulled up in the driveway.  Your breath stopped for a while until you felt Heeseung get his hand off your back. “I think I should go somewhere else…” You nodded at him, fully understanding why he was doing it. You pretended to go back to work, trying to convince yourself that Jake wouldn’t come over to you if you did that. You heard footsteps getting closer to you and you felt your breath pick up its pace. You got this. “Hey…” You heard the deep yet soft voice say. You looked up to see Jake smiling softly at you and you almost teared up at that. You tried to reciprocate the smile but you were sure it came out shaky. “Hi, Jake.” You said nodding at him. Your gaze drifted from his figure, trying to look at anything but him, as you fiddled with your fingers. “Nice patch!” He said chuckling, making you blush as you stared at the Care Bears patch placed upon your knee. “There was ripped so my mom put it on for me.” You said still not looking at him, making him mutter a Cute under his breath, which you almost missed. “Why are you here?” You asked, looking at his face, but you knew damn well why he was here. Jake took a shaky breath in as he leaned against the wall behind him, his own gaze now avoiding yours.
“I guess- No, I know and I need to explain myself to you.” He started, gulping his anxiety away. “What you saw that night wasn’t something anyone would expect that would happen. I mean, I should’ve had to be honest. The night I went to have dinner with you and your mother I told you I had received a text from my father. Which isn’t a lie, because I did, but you also deserved to know that Aerin had also texted me.” His eyes finally met yours with an apologetic gaze. Your face was contorted in confusion and you waited for him to explain it further. “She somehow found out that you and I had been hanging out and that there was something between us and she texted me some nonsense about knowing I still wanted and was using you as a rebound.” You stared at the ground hearing those words. “Was I a rebound to you Jake?” You asked quietly “No!” He answered with no hesitation “Of course not! And I hope you never felt that way because all I did for you was genuine.” his hand twitched, Jake wanted to reach out to you but he knew he still had further explaining to do. “Going on. That night I was supposed to go out with guys from my soccer team as well as the guys here but Aerin somehow was involved with some of the guys in the team and joined as well. The moment you started approaching me she threw herself at me and started doing whatever she was doing and before I could react and push her away you had already seen it.” His voice became shaky as he played that moment back in his head. “And I would and never will blame you for reacting the way you did. If I was in that position I would do the same, most likely.” Tears started falling from your eyes as you heard him talk. 
Your chest was tight with guilt. You felt bad for what you did to him. He didn’t deserve to go through what you made him go through. You sniffed as you tried to wipe the stubborn tears that kept falling. Jake took a step closer to you, feeling his own eyes water at the sight of your miserable state. “Baby, please don’t cry.” The pet name left his lips before he could think about it but you didn’t seem to have heard it or mind it. “Jake I’m so sorry.” You said between hiccups of sobs “Please, please forgive me. I probably made you go through hell when you didn’t even do anything. I was so selfish.” Your cries got louder as you spoke and you didn’t even care if the boys could hear you. “Y/n, no! Stop apologizing. It was not your fault, ok? You aren’t the one to blame. You weren’t the one causing this, Aering was.” He said pulling you into his embrace. The knot on your chest broke as you finally felt his comforting touch and scent that you loved so much. “I would forgive you in a heartbeat if you had anything to apologize for, but you don't, you hear me?” You looked up at him, sniffling softly as you nodded at him. Jake cupped your face to wipe your tears as he smiled softly at you. “I’m sorry I made you go through all of this.” You saw the tears pooling in his eyes, making you cup his cheek.
“Are we ok now?” He asked, worry still lingering in his tone. You smiled widely at him as you furiously nodded your head “Yes! God, Jake, of course!” You said chuckling between sniffs. He laughed along with you as he stared into your eyes endearingly. Your breath calmed down as you both stared into each other eyes. None of you making a move to look away. Your eyes drifted from his eyes to his lips and you caught a glimpse of him doing the same. You don’t know who was the first to move but suddenly your lips were on his as you two share a long-awaited kiss. Your arms went around his neck as his hands were still cupping your cheeks. You leaned your head to the side to deepen the kiss. Jake let out a happy sigh into the kiss, making you smile against his lips. You both pulled away and you let your eyes look around the room to avoid his gaze. Jake laughed at you and you buried your face into his neck to hide the crimson red spreading on your cheeks. Jake pulled you off of him and held your hand as he started pushing you outside. “Let’s go.” He said nodding towards his car. “Jake I can’t I have to finish-” “Don’t worry about that. I’m pretty sure Heeseung won’t mind.” You were hesitant but still let him drag you to his car. “Ok- wait. Slow down, oh my God. Isn’t this kidnapping? Geez!” You said scowling lightly at him at the eagerness he was pushing you with. “Stop talking nonsense, silly.” 
The boys finally gathered around the entrance as they heard Jake’s car leave with you both inside it. “Well, it was kinda awkward.” Jungwon said breaking the silence. Sunoo rolled his eyes, slapping the boy's arm. “What? It’s true!” He said raising his hands in surrender. Silene took over again as everyone tried to process what had just happened. “If all it takes to leave work early is to argue with my girlfriend then I’m down.” “Ni-ki, shut the fuck up.”
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You were anxious for today. Even though Jake has been countless times at your house and had dinner with your parents just as much, you’ve never been at his house, let alone met his parents. But it would change today, Jake had called you today, inviting you to have dinner with his parents at his house. As much as you wanted to refuse, you knew you couldn’t, you couldn’t delay this moment any longer, sooner or later it was gonna happen and it was happening today. You didn’t know how to really feel about it. From what Jake told you, you knew his dad wasn’t the best person but you didn’t know much about his mom. You felt anxiety creeping up your body as you got ready for the night. You tried to look the most presentable you could for Jake’s parents, not wanting to leave a bad first impression.
Your phone buzzed in your bed, you picked it up and saw Jake’s text telling you he was outside. You looked at your reflection one last time before grabbing your purse and leaving. When you got outside you were met with the breathtaking sight of Jake leaning against his car, looking like he just came from a cliché teenage movie. His skin was glowing with the bright sunshine, complementing his skin colour to perfection. His full black outfit was hugging in all the right places, making him look like a runway model. Jake noticed your staring, making him laugh silently. “You know you can take a closer look, right?” His words made you roll your eyes, despite feeling your cheeks grow hot. “You’re so cocky, Jake.” You said as you walked towards him, stopping in front of him as you leaned in for a peck. Jake hummed against your lips, holding your face to kiss you deeper. You tapped his cheek and pulled away, eyeing him with a warning stare. “We have places to be, young man.” Jake sighed at your words and you both got in the car. 
Throughout the car ride, Jake noticed your fidgeting hands and he knew you were nervous. He put his hand on top of yours, still looking at the road ahead of him. “There’s nothing to be worried about, y/n” He said in a quiet voice, making you look at him at the sudden words. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, looking back to the road. “I know. It’s just- I don’t even know why I’m nervous.” You answered chuckling humorlessly. Jake gave your hand a squeeze, giving you a silent reassurance. “I know that from what I say about my dad he sounds scary but he can be nice sometimes and I’m sure he will be pretty okay with you, so don’t think too much about it, yeah? Besides my mom’s gonna be there so it won’t be as bad.” You nodded and smiled at him, leaning on the center console to peck his cheek, making him smile.
Soon enough, you both reached his parent’s house. You felt your heart starting to race as soon as you stepped out of the car. Jake walked beside you, grabbing your hand, holding it tightly against his. Something in him was telling you he was nervous as well and it made you look at him with worried eyes. You both stopped at the front door, looking at each other. Jake smiled at you, nodding his head towards the door, making you take a deep breath as you nodded back at him. He rang the doorbell, the sound echoing in the loud silence as you both waited impatiently.
The door finally opened, revealing a beautiful woman. She didn’t look any older than 45, her skin was smooth with barely any wrinkles adorning it, only faint ones that marked her joyful smile. Her hair had a chestnut tone to it and the perfectly styled curls reached her shoulders. “Jake, my love.” She said as she pulled the said man into her embrace. “I’ve missed you so much!” Jake smiled as he looked at her with a grin. “Missed you too, mom.” He said lovingly pecking her forehead. “Oh, goodness. You must be y/n, I’m Sooyoung! So glad to meet you dear!” She said pulling you in a hug, making you smile at her as you felt the nerves slowly leaving your body. “Yes, I am! It’s so nice to finally meet you!” You told her, as she held your hands in her’s. “You know, Jake sounded so excited to finally introduce you to us, he would always talk about you when he called.” You heard Jake groan beside you. “Mom!” “What? I’m just saying!” She said laughing at his son “Anyways, come inside. Dinner is almost ready!” She leads you both inside the house. “Do you need help with anything?” You asked her “Oh no, dear! Don’t worry, everything’s almost done. You both wait in the leaving room while I finish it.” 
Jake took you to the living room, where his father sat on the couch as he watched whatever news channel was playing. He cleared his throat, making his father loom at you both. “Hey, dad. This is y/n, my girlfriend.” Jake said introducing you to the older man. “Hi, sir. It’s nice to meet you!” You said bowing slightly at him, wiping your sweaty hands in the back of your pants. Jake’s father got up, walking towards the both of you. His straight lips formed a slight smile as he pulled you into a hug, making you let out a surprised sound. “It’s nice to see the girl my son can’t shut up about. Can’t say I’m not surprised to see my son could keep up with a girl like you.” You felt shy at his words, not really knowing what to say. “Ah, I’m sure it’s not like that.” You said rubbing your arm anxiously. He then walked to Jake, shaking hands with his son, giving him a tight-lipped smile. “Hope you’ve been behaving well, son.” He said patting his son’s head. “Dad..” Jake said rolling his eyes. The three of you sat on the couch, Jake's dad’s eyes were on the TV but his focus was somewhere else.
“So,” He started. “Where did you two meet?” He asked, turning to look at you two. You looked at Jake and then at his father “We met at my workplace.” You said nodding at him. “You work?” He asked curiously. “Well, it’s a summer job, but yeah I do. Been there for about two and half months maybe?” You smiled at him, rubbing your hands back in forth on your thighs as you tried to ease the nerves. He hummed “And what do you do, may I ask?” “Dad, it’s enough questions.” Jake said but you stopped “It’s okay, Jake.” You said smiling at him. “I’m working at a mechanic shop, which I know it’s not usual as a summer job, but I enjoy it a lot.” His dad opened his mouth to speak but before he could do so, Sooyoung called everyone to the table.
You were all sat at the table peacefully, immersed in a casual conversation. “We should totally book a dinner with your parents y/n, Jake talks about how nice they are when he stays at your house. “ Jake’s mother suggested. “Yeah, I think that would be really nice. They would love it!” You told her, smiling at her as you went back to eating. You noticed Jake had been quiet most of the night, only talking when you were the topic of the conversation. It made you worried that he was behaving this way. You noticed the way his hands were trembling and you wanted nothing more than to comfort him right there and then. You put your utensils down when you finished the meal and one of your hands went to his tigh to rub it in a comforting manner. Jake’s movements faltered when he felt it. His free hand went down to where your hand was placed in his thigh and squeezed it in appreciation. You interlocked your fingers with his and his thumb started rubbing the back of your hand. Jake felt his heart warming up at your actions, looking at you as you spoke with his mother. He smiled, looking down at his empty plate as he tried to hide it.
Jake’s mom got up and walked towards the fridge. “If everyone’s finished, I made dessert!” She said as she put a homemade ice cream bowl on the table. She sat back down and the conversation went on. “y/n I almost forgot to ask! What are you studying?” Sooyung asked as she looked at you. her elbow propped on the table. “Oh, I’m majoring in computer science actually!” You answered with a smile. “I actually share a few classes with Jake.” You said looking at him with a smile, seeing him already looking at you. “Oh really! What a coincidence, isn’t it!” His mother beamed at you. Jake’s father scoffed beside his mother making you snap your head in his direction. “I’m surprised he actually attends classes.” He said looking down at his desert. Jake’s hand tightened almost painfully in your grip.
The tension in the room was thick and if you wanted you could cut it with a knife. Jake’s mother scolded him silently for speaking about it when you were present, but the man couldn’t care less. “Soccer, soccer, soccer. It’s all that goes through that head of his.” He said, finally looking up at his son, who stared at him with a stoic expression. “I work hard every day to give him a stable future and yet he doesn’t even think about pursuing that.” He said with an expression that could be read as disappointment. “Look at his brother. Working a high-paying job, a stable one, and yet, you can’t take it as an example to look up to. Do you really think soccer’s gonna take you anywhere in life?” He asked but he wasn’t really looking for an answer. Your heart felt like it could jump out of your chest with how quick it was beating. Jake’s face was emotionless but his hands were shaking as the force of his own father’s words hit him like rocks. It hurt you to see him take all this and you just couldn’t keep yourself quiet any longer
“You know,” You started “Jake’s really good at what he does best, even if it’s at soccer.” You gulped your nerves down as you continued. “If there’s something my parents never did was interfere in my future. They never once told me I should follow this or that, never. Because nothing was more important than them seeing me do something that makes me happy. If soccer is what he loves doing, then why not let him do that? I don’t know a thing about soccer or sports but if he’s known in almost every national university’s soccer team then he must be damn good at what he does. So why not support him in that? Even if it goes bad for him, which I must say I doubt, he’s going to graduate so there’s always a plan b. Have you ever considered your son’s happiness? I genuinely don’t intend to be disrespectful to you or your company, but is your business more important than your son? You have a son working in that field so why not make him take over it instead of Jake, who clearly doesn’t want to do it?”
You looked at Jake, seeing him look at you with tears pooling in his eyes, making your own eyes water. “Jake deserves nothing but to be happy. If you only could see how much he’s done then maybe you would love him a bit more.” You got up from your chair, the scraping sound made you slightly hiss. Jake understood what you were doing and did the same. “I’m so sorry about this, but I just can’t stand you seeing talk so low of your son. I hope you can reflect a little bit. Again, I’m sorry.” You turned to leave, Jake following behind you.
When the front door shut close, Jake instantly broke down, throwing himself in your embrace. His body shook with broken cries, making you screw your eyes shut as you tried to stop your tears. You held him tightly, rubbing his back in a soothing manner. “It’s alright now.” you said in a whisper, your hand coming up to tangle itself in his hair. When his cries died out Jake pulled out of your arms, looking at you. His hands cradled your face, as his eyes scanned your features. He smiled at you, making you mirror his expression. He leaned down as he pecked your lips and your hands came up to hold his that were holding your face. “I’m sorry for, you know, causing all that. I just couldn’t not do anything.” You said looking down. “Hey, don’t apologize. Thank you for that, really.” he said letting out a breath. “It’s better you saying that than me having another screaming match with my father.” He smiled sadly.
“I didn’t know you liked me that much, though.” He joked trying to lighten the mood. “Oh, c’mon Jake, seriously.” You said groaning at him, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” He said laughing. “Y’know, I like you that much too.” You felt shy under his gaze, suddenly not able to look in his eyes. “Do you really?” You asked as you kicked tiny rocks on the floor. “Yes, silly. Of course I do…” Jake tensed “Even more than liking, actually.” You looked up at him when he said that, seeing him biting his lips nervously. “What?” You asked, surprised as you felt your heart race. “I- sorry I shouldn’t-” “Jake.” You cut him off, laughing at him. He stared at you wide-eyed, his cheeks flushed and his ears red.
You threw your arms over his shoulder, making a slight force to pull him closer. You smiled up at him. “I love you.” Jake almost choked in his own spit, not expecting to hear those words coming out of your mouth. His mouth opened and closed as he tried to say something. He took a deep breath and put his hands on your waist, suddenly feeling like he was in high school again, about to have his first kiss. He leaned in to kiss you, moving his head to the side to deepen it. Both of your lips moving on their own as you shared a passionate kiss. Jake pulled away before he could go further, his forehead resting against yours as he giggled, making you laugh at his behaviour. “I love you too princess.” He finally said, “So much.” He pecked your lips again, and again, and again until you pushed his chest as you laughed at him. He grinned at you, as he grabbed your hand in his. “Let’s go?” He asked and you nodded at him. You both got in the car, ready to go home as some soft tunes played from to radio.
Jake had been trying to make his house a home for a long time, but maybe home was where you were.
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hyypnotix-writes · 7 months
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Part 3
~ howdy! it's here ..I don't fully know how I feel about it, I might keep editing it at another point, but I've taken the piss with keeping you waiting for so long, I just want you to have something ~
~ it's long - I thought the other two were bad enough but this is longer than both of them combined. it's 26k words so I'm very sorry, and I do understand if that's too much for any of you ~
~ I don't know how to break it up to make it easier, or more fun, for you to read. I hope it doesn't put all of you off, but unless you're an incredibly quick reader ..you will probably have to read this one when you genuinely have nothing else to do ~
~ I'm not sure how well this chapter will go down, this could well be the end of our little journey together ~
~ I've had a lot of fun writing for all of you if it is, despite me stressing myself out with it! you've all been very kind and lovely, and however you've enjoyed any part of my writing, I've really appreciated every interaction ~
~ whether you liked, reblogged, or sent me a little message - every single one of you has made me smile, so I really hope this doesn't disappoint any of you too much! ~
~ good luck! good bye xx ~
Part 1 Part 2
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Rain is absolutely not what you signed up for when you agreed to come to Barcelona with your sister. Travelling all the way to sunny Spain, and bringing the bloody British weather with you as you go? What a horrible little joke.  
You’re not going to be the sun-kissed envy of your friends if it stays like this, you’ll be going back to London even paler than you were when you left it.  
The rainfall dribbles down the outside of the window, opposite where you rest your forehead, and a mournful sigh escapes your lips as you look out at the abysmal sight of the city streets down below. You draw a smiley face with your finger, where your breath fogged up the glass, and you try to mirror the expression on your own face as you extract yourself from the pane and flop back down onto the bed with a very dramatic groan.  
It’s already been one of the longest mornings of your life, and it’s only just turned 10:00.  
Sleep eluded you once again last night. Every hour, on the hour, you watched the clock tick over. Seconds suspending themselves in the air, minutes moving like molasses, as you counted infinite sheep in your head. Time flies when you’re having fun, as they say, but boy does it drag its heels when you’re praying for it to soar.  
Despite your fun little belief that you might’ve finally been sleeping soundly last night, it didn’t actually come to fruition. It turns out that it’s quite difficult for someone to fall asleep after finding out that the woman they’re falling for has secretly been a famous sporting icon the whole time that they’ve known her. Who’d have thought? 
It’s still a little hard for you to wrap your head around. The fact that she’s a bit famous, and her celebrity status stems from football of all things. Even with detective skills as exceptional as yours, that possibility never crossed your mind.  
Exhaustion is starting to plague your body after so many restless nights, and the antisocial behaviour you’re demonstrating because of it, isn’t largely appreciated by your sister. Abandoning Em to go and have breakfast on your own, before she had chance to wake up and join you, wasn’t a deliberate act of cruelty from you, you genuinely thought you were doing her a favour by letting her have a lie in.  
You are on holiday together, though, so she didn’t fully enjoy waking up alone in your shared hotel room. She made that much abundantly clear to you, with the countless strongly worded text messages that you received as you awkwardly traipsed back upstairs to apologise to her.  
A silent and forceful barging into your shoulder was all that greeted you, as you returned to the room and she made her exit from it.  
It’s unfortunate. She’s in a pissy mood, the weather’s in a pissy state, and you have to go to a pissing football match later on this evening. What a cruel world it is that you’re living in.  
It’s very unnatural that your one saving grace of the day is the pissing football match that you have to attend. That being one of the highlights of your holiday, really won’t make much sense at all to any of your friends when you tell them about it.  
You stare longingly at your phone for a while, tapping your fingers over your torso as you wait for Em’s return from breakfast. You let out a soft sigh as you gaze up at the ceiling, before gently closing your eyes, in the futile hopes of having a quick nap. The darkness behind your eyelids allows your mind to wander all too freely. Which it very quickly does, to more thoughts of Alexia. The same way that it has done, since the very first moment that she so casually waltzed into your life.  
This morning, however, it’s not thoughts of confusion, that cloud your brain. Sexuality concerns and hopeless pining are far from the forefront of your mind. It’s excitement that envelops you, anticipation. The fact that you’ve found your impossible-to-find woman, and that she’s no longer impossible for you to find at all. She may very well be one of the easiest people to locate, in all of Barcelona, as it happens. Knowing that you get to see her, at least one more time again this evening, even if it’s only from a distance, is a promise that has an involuntary smile tugging at the corners of your lips, and your heart doing cartwheels inside of your chest.  
There’s the distinct feeling of potential that hangs in the air for tonight. You can’t pretend that you’re not feeling hopeful about seeing her a little bit more up-close-and-personal than just from your seat in the stands. You’d quite like to be able to congratulate her, if the scoreline goes in her favour.  
You pull the neck of Alexia’s sweatshirt up over your face, in an attempt to fully bring the possibilities to life in the playground of your imagination, and you let out another sigh as you rest your hand over your stomach.  
It really doesn’t smell enough like her anymore, but it still your favourite item of clothing, as it is still very much hers. It’s the most effective key for unlocking your memories with her, and you breathe it in deeply, as you let your thoughts of her consume you.  
You really are feeling desperately needy, you’ve already been in this position once this morning.  
It’s not a hunger that’s ever infiltrated your body and mind quite so fervidly. You’re not a particularly clingy person, you’re not usually so obsessive, or lustful. You’re certainly hot-blooded, and you know how to enjoy yourself, but there’s never normally this type of craving in you for another person.  
Having your mind be so fanatical about someone else really isn’t something that’s ever overcome you quite so powerfully. It’s a rare sort of desire in you, that only she’s been able to spark, and it’s proving very difficult to satiate it.  
Your hand wanders slightly, as she takes over your head, the tips of your fingers trailing the waistband of your shorts, before the excessively loud opening and closing of the hotel room door, abruptly halts you from getting too invested in your fantasies.  
You turn your attention to your sister, removing your fingers with an unfortunate twang, as the elastic hits back down your skin, and you slowly free your face as she obliviously trudges across the room.  
You offer up an apologetic smile for abandoning her earlier, as she places her coffee on the table, and, with a piece of toast dangling from her mouth, she smiles back at you, the power of a full stomach seemingly diluting her previous feelings of anger.  
Her smile quickly contorts into a mischievous little grin, and there’s a glint in her eye, as she pounces on the bed.  
“Are you good?” You chuckle, as she rummages next to you, but she doesn’t gift you with any verbal reply. It’s your phone that she’s interested in, you realise, and you hold out your hand, for her to return it to you. “Behave.” You warn her, but she only giggles at the unlocked screen and shakes her head at you.  
“Do you have a new girl crush?” She mocks, goading you as she waves the device in front of your face. “Big into Alexia Putellas, are we?” 
“I was just ..familiarising myself.” You tell her, shuffling yourself a little, as a soft pink hue rushes to your cheeks.  
“Is that what you’re calling it?” She scoffs. “You know, I also tend to search for someone’s back tattoos when I’m trying to memorise their face!” 
“I was— I ..can I have my phone back, please?” You sigh, giving up on any attempt at trying to defend yourself.  
You don’t need to defend yourself to her. You like Alexia’s tattoos, and simply wanting to see them again, is merely an appreciation of art. That’s entirely innocent enough. It wasn’t a perverse search; it didn’t come from a sinful place.  
The fact that it immediately triggered flashbacks to you tracing over all of them with your lips, really wasn’t exactly your fault. It was unintentional, an almost reflex response from you.  
Letting yourself get mildly carried away with remembering how Alexia had kissed along your own body and how her lips had this wonderfully curious tendency of just always roaming down. The little knot that tied itself in your stomach, and your breath hitching as you relived the eye contact that she made with you before she had your back arching under her.  
That’s all a little less innocent, maybe, but it still wasn’t deliberate. It couldn’t be helped; it was just an automatic reimagining of events.  
You’re allowed to do that, they’re your memories. It’s entirely permissible for you to take a little journey through them every once in a while. It’s been over a month for you, and you have some overdue frustrations. That’s not a crime, you’re not a pervy creep.  
“You have a real thing for Spanish women at the minute, huh?” Em recognises, pulling you from your dirty thoughts again as she drops your phone down onto your stomach and takes another bite of her breakfast.  
“Mhmm. I quite like her tattoos.” You tell her casually, and she smiles back at you with a raised eyebrow.  
“Whenever you’re ready for me to do your next one, let me know!” 
“Mm.” You mumble, as you feel the ink on your rib cage begin to sear under her stare.  
You really do like tattoos, but there’s a reason that you only have the one on you. Your distinct lack of body art probably doesn’t seem like the greatest advertisement for your sister’s abilities, but it’s your own indecisiveness, and aversion to needles, that’s stopped you from getting too many, not her deficiency of talent. Maybe you’re a little bit squeamish, but it really did hurt.  
“You’re a big baby.” She laughs at you as you rub at the side of your body, trying to relieve the faint burning of your skin, and she claps the remnants of toast crumbs from her hands onto the floor, as she lays next to you. “What do you fancy doing today?” She asks you. “I’m sorry about the shit weather, that’s kinda fucked with your tanning plans.” 
“It’s not really your fault, but I was going to ask for your help, actually. If you’re feeling a little guilty?” 
“Oh?” She turns her head, furrowing her brow at you, her interest piqued, and you let out a sigh as you swallow your pride.  
“I was hoping, maybe you’d help me learn some football things.” 
“Football things?” She scoffs, but you don’t let her mockery deter you, as you nod at her decidedly.  
“Mhmm.” 
The back of Em’s hand very quickly finds itself pressed against your forehead with a quiet little smack, and you scrunch up your face in confusion as she frowns down at you.  
“What on earth are you doing?” 
“Are you feeling okay?” 
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, yes!” You sigh, pushing her arm away from you to stop her from checking your temperature. “I’d just like to know some things. Stop me from going into the match so blind.” 
She narrows her eyes, considering you for a moment. “What do you want to know?” She asks, and you wince at the freedom she’s granted you.  
“Just like ..players’ names, probably? I think that’d be helpful. Maybe some basic rules.” You shrug.  
She continues frowning at you, and you buckle a little under the intensity of her stare.  
“What?” 
“You’ve never cared before..” she reminds you, the suspicion in her eyes only increasing, as you release a small huff through your nose.  
“That’s not really true..” You try to start arguing, but it’s a completely pointless activity, you’re both far too aware that you’re completely lying.
Football has existed for your entire life, and you’ve been interested in it, a grand total, of zero times, before now. You find out that it’s Alexia’s favourite thing to do, and you suddenly want to know everything you can about it. It's entirely tragic of you, and it's too convoluted of a confession to share with your sister right now. She was useless enough when you admitted to a single kiss with another woman, trying to explain all of this mayhem would absolutely break her little brain.
“I’ve definitely cheered with you a couple of times!” You offer and she shakes her head, laughing loudly at you.  
“No no no!” She states. “Quietly saying ‘woo team’ when I tell you someone’s scored, is not cheering with me! I told you Rachel Daly scored once, and you still threw your fist in the air!” 
“What’s wrong with that?” 
“She plays for Aston Villa!” She points out, smacking your shoulder, and you let out another tiny huff. “I could tell you that Emma Hayes had scored, and you wouldn’t question it.” 
“Why would that be weird, is she the goalkeeper?” 
“For fuck’s sake!” She sighs, scraping her hands down over her face. “She’s the manager.” 
Yikes. You really are an idiot.   
“Well.. okay..” you wince, “and that’s why I need your help.”  
“Why does it matter?” She asks. “This’ll be the only match you ever watch.” 
“Maybe, but I quite like the woman who gave me that shirt.” You admit, gazing over at it as you play with the hem of the sweatshirt you’re wearing. “I don’t want to let her down by knowing nothing.” 
“Will she be there today?” 
“Mhmm.” 
Em contemplates for a moment, and you know that look in her eyes, she’s about to cave in. You sit up on the bed, readying yourself to deliver the final blow to her composure.  
“Please?” You say, pouting with a perfectly rehearsed, quivering bottom lip. 
“Nooo! Not the puppy dog eyes.” She groans, averting her gaze from you to try and stay strong. You don’t back down, and she lets out a pathetic cry of defeat when she catches your expression again.  
“There’s not much else for us to do until this rain stops.” You point out innocently.  
“That’s not true! There’s that aquarium you wanted to go to?” 
It’s a valid point from her, but rather incredibly, it’s no longer as appealing an option to you. You want to embrace football today. It’s important to Alexia, and she’s becoming important to you. As such, football ..is also important ..to ..well, no. Let’s not push it. She isn’t your girlfriend; you don’t need to be football’s number one fan just yet. Football will be tolerated by you, until further notice.  
You plead to your sister again, adding a small sniffle after your words for extra impact, and her resolve is positively crumbling in front of you.  
“You’re really serious, you want to learn about football?” 
“Mhmm!” You grin, excitedly crossing your legs, to fully show that you mean business. “Please!” 
“Fine.” She chuckles, rolling her eyes at your childish little excitement.  
“Thank you!” You grab her head to place a kiss to the top of it, and she quickly pushes you off of her. “I’d just like to know enough, though.” You clarify, before she starts getting too carried away with her lesson planning. “Just enough to stop me from looking like a fool.” 
“Well, steady on.” She snorts, with a roll of her eyes as she reaches for her sketch pad from the nightstand. “We’ve only got a day!” 
There’s a lot of information for you to learn it turns out, and you really hope Alexia’s worth all of this relentless studying you’ve subjected yourself to.  
It isn’t just her teammates that you end up memorising. Em also makes sure to teach you some footballing fundamentals, what ‘being offside’ really means, how the Champions League works, and she takes a great twisted pleasure in letting you know that tonight’s game of all games, could go to extra time and penalties, if no side is able to score more sodding goals than the other.  
You’re definitely being tested. 90 minutes is all that you signed up for when you agreed to watch the football, not a possible 120 with the looming threat of a penalty shootout attached to it. It’s entirely far too much. Why the hell is this Alexia’s favourite thing to do? Why are you still so into her? This is unbearable.  
It proves a little hard for you to keep concentrating on all of the facts that your sister keeps throwing at you, but she very quickly realises, that letting you watch some of Alexia’s highlights at irregular intervals, keeps you from getting too bored with everything else.
  
It quite amusing to you, to see Alexia wearing the captain’s armband, if you can believe. This nightclub nuisance, taking on a leadership role? That doesn’t seem right at all.  
Club captain, best on the team, best in the world? Turns out, it’s you that has the impeccable taste in women.  
She’s very sexy in her little football kit and watching her kick a ball around is surprisingly entertaining. She’s also very good, even you can see that, and the fact that she’ll occasionally lift her shirt when she’s a little frustrated with herself? Well, replaying that in slow motion is entirely fine and acceptable.  
There’s no real heterosexual explanation for your enjoyment of it, but you can pretend it’s merely an appreciation of fitness for you to keep pausing all of the videos and zooming in on her body.  
It’s not something that you ask to learn about, but Em can’t help mentioning all of Alexia’s achievements to you. It’s very fun to find out about everything, and there’s a genuine sense of pride in you for all of her plentiful accolades.  
It does feel a little misplaced, perhaps. You probably still don’t know her well enough to be just as proud of her as you are, you’ve certainly not known her long enough to be quite so pleased for her.  
It’s also slightly daunting, maybe, realising how decorated she is. Finding out about her FIFA’s best awards, the World Cup, her consecutive Ballon d’Ors.  
This is a very highly celebrated woman that you’ve been mingling with.   
She’s widely regarded as the greatest women’s player, of all time. It’s not just your sister that’s been saying it, Alexia’s been awarded for it, on the television, in front of the whole world. There’s a mural of her in Barcelona, a viewpoint that’s been named after her, and it turns out, that there’s a fairly huge amount of people that really enjoy calling her La bloody Reina. She’s revered by these people, almost worshipped.  
You’re not letting it get to you too much. Yes, she’s widely adored, she’s won pretty much every single award it’s possible for her to achieve, and she’s only just turned 30. She’s famous and well-loved and you’re just a little nobody from London, but you’re not letting that get to you too much.   
That probably wouldn’t be very wise. That would bring questions into your head, and make you start doubting yourself. That’s not a fun thing for you to do. Why would you do that?   
Don’t do that, you’ll start spiralling. It doesn’t take much to get you overthinking. You spent the past month questioning your sexuality because of one single night with another woman. Don’t let yourself worry about it, that won’t end very well for you. Don’t let her success in her career start clouding who she is to you. She’s still just the confusing lime woman, at the end of the day.   
Don’t start thinking of her as Barcelona’s sweetheart, Alexia Putellas. That’s putting her on a pedestal that you’ll never be able to reach her on up there. That’s very careless of you, to leave her up there on it without you sitting next to her, don’t do that. She’s just a woman. A very beautiful and successful woman. That’s fine, there’s lots of them about. Calm down.  
The rain finally relents a few hours before the big match, and while it doesn’t really grant you a huge amount of time to do anything too adventurous, it is a relief to realise that you won’t be getting completely drenched as you watch Alexia play.  
Em makes a rather hasty escape to the beach, as soon as the sun makes its long-awaited appearance. She hasn’t enjoyed your little study session quite as much as you have. You really just can’t win with this woman. She’s grumpy when you hate football, she’s grumpy when you’re a fan of it. She really just loves being grumpy with everything.  
Your constant refusal to be taught anything about the Chelsea players probably didn’t help you to keep her happy, though. Your insistence that Barcelona is the far superior team, didn’t go down very well with her either. Your new ‘girl crush’ on Alexia Putellas was something she began to find really irritating. You were almost actively trying to wind her up, actually. Maybe you did deserve her abandonment, looking back. You were lucky the rain kept her about for as long as it did.  
She didn’t ask if you wanted to join her at the beach, but you’d have decided to stay where you are anyway. Making sure you really have learnt enough for tonight, is your number one priority at the moment. Quizzing yourself and rewatching a few more compilation videos, is far more important to you than the city around you. The tan you actually came out to Spain for really is taking a hit today, but you can enjoy Barcelona a bit more tomorrow.  
You’re having a small dilemma in the hotel bathroom, as you’re getting yourself ready for the game. It’s an escalating concern for you, and one that your sister is growing increasingly frustrated with you for. You’re going to be late to the match if you don’t start getting a move on.       
Em barges into the bathroom, startling you as you study yourself in the mirror, and you narrow your eyes at her reflection as she stands in the doorway, staring at you.      
“What’s taking you so long?” She asks, with a very clear tone of exasperation.       
“I’m debating.” You tell her thoughtfully, ignoring her choice of intonation completely, by offering her an innocent little smile, as she lets out a very long and loud groan behind you.       
“Of course, you are.” She mutters, and she leans against the doorframe, preparing herself for you to begin your impending little spiel.       
“Right. So, I want to have the whole shirt on display.” You begin, gesturing down the front of your body and tapping your fingers to the lettering across your back.  
“Of course, you do.”      
“Right. So, I’m thinking, hair up,” you explain, demonstrating your vision as you carefully scrape your hair up into a ponytail, before narrowing your eyes at your sister again, to see if she can also see the problem with your plan, “buuut..”     
“Is that a love bite?!” She exclaims, rushing towards you and tugging at your shirt collar to examine the light bruising on your neck.       
“Ex-actly!” You sigh in defeat, letting your hair cascade back down as you grab your makeup bag again, to have another go at concealing the little gift that Alexia left on you yesterday. “I knew I hadn’t done a good enough job with it.”      
“How did you get a love bite?!” She asks, still clearly shocked by your rather tame, levels of promiscuity, as she pushes you away from her in disgust.   
“The usual way.”       
“A man sucked on your neck?”      
“Is that how you usually get your love bites?”       
She pulls an immature face at you and flips you off in the mirror. “I’m 24!” She says, indignant. “I haven’t had a love bite in years!”      
“Well, that’s very sad and tragic of you.” You tell her with a sympathetic pout. “I can only apologise that you’re so prudish and boring, I hope you’re able to recover from that soon!”      
“You’re in a very annoying mood.” She recognises with a sigh, frowning at your reflection as you carry on with your camouflage attempt. “We’ve only been here a day! I thought I was supposed to be the slutty sibling!”      
“You are the slutty sibling.” You remind her with a chuckle. “You were in a relationship just last week, and I’ve already had to make breakfast for three different girls since you broke up!”      
She smiles at you, very proudly, because she’s very very gross, and has absolutely no shame in it.       
“It’s no wonder you looked so happy last night, then.” She says, carefully inspecting your neck for you. “That’s covered it, you’re fine.”      
“Mm. Thank you very kindly!” You tell her, giving her a great big kiss on the cheek for her assistance, that she very quickly rubs back off again.       
“Be less annoying!” She begs.       
“I will not be making any promises!” You warn her, smiling widely as you tie your hair up and give yourself another once over. “How are we looking?” You ask, giving her a quick twirl.       
“Traitorous.” She grumbles.  
“Perfect!” You squeal, excitedly grabbing her hand and pulling her out of the hotel room with you.  
Your enthusiasm doesn’t die out at all, as you clamber into the taxi with your sister, and, as luck would have it, your driver is an even bigger culer than you are. You’re able to have a pretty in-depth conversation with him, what with all of the new knowledge that you’ve so recently acquired, and Em’s just ecstatic for the pair of you.
It isn’t a long drive from the hotel to the stadium, but you do clearly make quite the impression on the driver, as you end up having to reject, with as much politeness as possible, his invitation of a date for after the game.  
You’re really hoping to have other plans tonight, with some much-preferred female company.      
“He’s not ugly.” Em informs you quietly as you get out of the car, and she certainly isn’t wrong.  
‘Not ugly’ is just about as big a compliment as Em will ever give, regarding a man. So, you can rest assured that he is actually a very good-looking gentleman.  She narrows her eyes at you suspiciously as you close the door to the vehicle, and you furrow your brow back at her.  
“What?”     
“You can agree to go out with him tonight, you don’t need to look after me.”      
You shake your head at her, with a mild grimace, muttering out an ‘mm’, as your only offering of an explanation for your lack of interest in him. “No doubt you’ll be going home with someone else after the match?” You check, trying to switch the focus back to her.  
“Naturally.” She winks. “It’s been an unsuccessful holiday otherwise!”     
There's still an unfortunate level of determination in your sister to get you a date for tonight, and you have to really insist, that you simply don’t want the driver’s number. She eventually reluctantly agrees to let him take off, giving him an apologetic nod as he rolls up the window, and you give her an uncomfortable smile as she turns her attention back to you.  
“I really think you should be getting back on the horse.” She encourages, still eyeing you with suspicion as you start the short walk to the stadium. “You can’t waste your life pining after Jamie forever.”      
“I’m really not doing that.” You tell her with a sigh. “I just didn’t want to go out on a date with him.”      
“Do you already have plans with hickey-man?” She giggles.  
“Please don’t call them that,” you chuckle, “and no ..not technically.”      
“But that’s who you’re hoping to find again?”      
“Mhmm.” You mumble, trying to stifle the smile that’s pulling at your lips.  
“Is he nice?”      
“Mhmm.”      
“Is he attractive?”      
“Mhmm.”      
“Do you like him?” She asks, wiggling her eyebrows at you.      
“..Mhmm.” You reply again, and your slightly nervous smile fully takes over your face.  
“Oh ..you really like him. After just one love bite?” She questions, narrowing her eyes at you again. “You don’t usually fall so quickly.” She tells you, and you can only shrug at the suggestive tone to her voice.      
“I don’t really know what you want me to say to that?”      
“I just ..want you to be careful.” She explains. “I don’t want you getting hurt again.”      
“You were just trying to bag me a date with him?”      
“Yeah, but as a one-night thing.” She clarifies. “Falling in love with a random Spanish man isn’t the best way of getting over your ex.”      
“I’m not in love with them, and I’m not ..really still trying to get over Jamie.”      
“Hm. Good. He was a prat.” She reminds you with a rather disgusted looking frown at the memory of him.    
“Thanks, Em.”   
“Ugly cheating bast—”     
“Okay, Em. Enough.”     
“But he was an ugly cheating bas—“ 
“Enough!” 
“Sorry. He was a horrible dickhead, though.” 
“I know.” You sigh. “I get it, thanks.” 
“He still gets to you?” She realises, noticing that your hands have balled themselves into tight fists, and your stomach turns slightly as you shrug your shoulders at her.  
“A little.” You admit, as a less exciting reimagining of events begins to torment your brain. “I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with him, only to find out he’d been sleeping around for two years.” 
“Two years?” She asks, eyes going wide, and you kick yourself for saying too much.  
“I thought I already told you that.” 
“No ..you told me he’d been with a few women. Two fucking years?” 
“Please don’t do the maths, you’ll hate him even more.” 
You attempt to walk away, already having had enough of the conversation, but you don’t get very far.  
“You are joking.” She says, grabbing your arm to stop your escape attempt. “He cheated on you, because Mum died?”      
“Not because Mum died, you idiot. Even he wouldn’t be that foul.”     
“But it’s linked?”     
“Enough, please.”   
“No. What the fuck, Y/N?”      
“That’s enough, okay. I just want to enjoy the match. We can talk about it later.”     
“We can talk about it now! I have the tickets,” she reminds you, with a very clear anger brewing in her, “you’re not getting in there without me! Why the fuck would he cheat on you aft—”     
“Because I didn’t really fancy having sex with him straight after.” You interrupt, in a hushed tone, trying to stop her from causing a scene. “I didn’t fancy having it for a while, he clearly had ..needs.”     
“Don’t justify it.”    
“I’m not ..but ..I understand why he did it. I practically pushed him into the arms of other women.”     
“That’s disgusting, Y/N. You can’t really be blaming yourself for it?”     
“Well ..I don’t know..” You mumble.   
“He cheated on you for two years, because you didn’t want to sleep with him for a bit, and you think that’s okay?”  
“That’s not what I said. I just ..get it.”   
You turn away from her again, to carry on with the walk and she hurries after to you to keep in step, not really content in letting this godforsaken conversation die out just yet.  
“That’s really the excuse he used?” She asks.   
“That’s why it started, apparently. There was obviously ..something else, for him to want to carry on doing it.” You admit, fidgeting with your fingers uncomfortably as you start thinking. “Maybe I was ..missing something that he liked or ..not doing something he wanted me to. I—” you let out a sigh, shaking your head, “..it really doesn’t matter, okay? Please, that’s enough. I honestly haven’t been thinking about him, I don’t want to start again now.”     
“I’m sorry.” She tells you, with a clear look of remorse, and you give her a light nod with a tight-lipped smile in an attempt to ease her guilt.  
You carry on your walk for only a few paces before realising Em is no longer travelling with you, and you turn back to find her staring at her feet. “What are you doing?” You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose between your fingers and thumb.  
She taps her toes to the ground a few times, before lifting her head and approaching you with a real sense of purpose. “Here,” she says, handing you a small piece of paper, “in case you can’t find hickey-man.” She tells you, and you do let yourself chuckle a little at Alexia’s unfortunate new nickname as you unfurl the note.     
“You got his number for me? I really don’t need this.” You sigh. You hold the paper out to return to her, but she pushes it back to you.   
“I think you do.” She tells you earnestly. “I don’t think it’s good for you to keep getting hung up on people. First Italian-man, now hickey-man. You were even working yourself up about one kiss with that Spanish woman.” She rolls her eyes at you, before giving you a sincere look of concern. “I know you fall hard, but you don’t usually fall fast. It's weird, and it’s not like you.” She explains, placing her hands on your arms, trying to get you to listen to her better. “I think you should have a proper meaningless night with someone.” She suggests with a shrug “He’s not ugly, and you’re not interested. That’s perfect one-night stand material! You're welcome!”     
“Fine ..thanks.” You mutter, giving her a little nod in defeat as you stare at the number in your hand.  
A meaningless night with a stranger really isn’t what you’re after, but you’re not about to fight her on it now. It’s not an ideal conversation to have just had, really. Your sister isn’t exactly calculated enough to have done it deliberately, she’s not trying to upset you because your footballing-happiness was winding her up too much.  
It’s frustrating from her, but she’s genuinely concerned about you, and maybe she has a reason to be. Maybe you have been ignoring some things about yourself, refusing to confront a few little issues that are bubbling under the surface.  
The ending of your relationship isn’t super ancient history, and you were with him for an unfortunately excessive amount of time. Meaningless hookups were exactly what you were preparing yourself for before Alexia ended up being your first one and ruining the rest of your plans.  
You do know that you’re not letting yourself get hung up over three separate people, though. Italian-man, hickey-man and Spanish-woman are all one person, and letting yourself get so hung up on Alexia as quickly as you are, is fine. Probably. That’s not really a cause for concern.  
Right? 
Of course, you’ve still spent less than 24 hours with her, there’s probably still lots of things you don’t know about each other. You have shared some pretty intimate details about yourselves together already, though, and she doesn’t feel like a rebound, as such. That would be grotesquely underselling the connection between you both.  
She is a woman, which is still new to you, and you really don’t usually fall so quickly for people. It took that bellend over six months to finally wear you down for a date. All Alexia needed to do was hold out a lime for you, to get herself wedged inside of your head.  
Don’t let yourself think about it too hard, you’ll do yourself a mischief. You’re just here to watch some football. You’re here to watch the girl you like, play a bit of football.  
Let’s not overthink, it isn’t good for you. It will only lead to questions and concerns, and that’s not what you need right now. Let’s have fun! 
The atmosphere around the stadium is quite the riot, and it’s very effective in distracting you. There’s flares being let off, the sound of trumpets and drums, there’s colourful smoke everywhere, the most enormous flags you’ve ever seen in your life. It’s like a little carnival, and it’s invigorating, letting yourself get swept up in the excitement of it all.  
You receive a tremendous amount of friendly looks, solely because of the badge over your heart and the name proudly on display on your back and noticing that your sister isn’t shown the same courtesy for wearing her Chelsea shirt, really only adds to your enjoyment of the occasion.  
Em drags you through the large flock of fans, trying to make sure that you don’t get separated from each other on your way into the stadium, and you keep offering up apologies on her behalf, as she carelessly mows people down for you. She is quite the woman on a mission.   
You opt to keep your head down, a little embarrassed by your sister’s rudeness, but even as you make an effort to avoid making eye contact with all of the disgruntled supporters that she keeps barging through, there is one thing that you do struggle to avoid seeing, with some of the Barcelona fans.    
An overwhelmingly impressive amount of them, also have ‘ALEXIA’ on their shirts.    
This doesn’t come as a complete shock to you. She is the best player on the team, after all. There is something about seeing her name plastered over quite so many strangers’ backs, however, that has sent your heart racing.    
This turnout of people is undoubtedly nothing compared to the millions of followers that you found out she has on Instagram yesterday, but it’s a very different feeling, seeing her fame condensed into a little figure on social media, than it is, to actually seeing so many of them in person. It’s much harder for you to ignore the countless amount of admirers that she has, when you keep physically bumping into all of them.   
“Are you good?” Em asks, as you find yourself frozen in the crowd, staring at the back of another person’s shirt.   
“Hm? Yeah, sorry.” You mutter, giving your head a shake, before letting yourself get dragged along again. “She’s very ..popular.”    
“Putellas?” She checks, and you can only nod back at her, still a little dumbfounded by it all. “Well, yeah. Obviously!” She snickers. “Come on!”   
Maybe it’s pride that you’re feeling. Knowing you’ve been spending a bit of time with someone so well-liked. That’s very nice for you, that’s entirely enjoyable and fun. It doesn’t need to be anything other than that. What good would that do for you?  
Perhaps there's a slight nervous tension in your stomach, at seeing her name absolutely everywhere. That’s probably understandable and fine. You knew she was famous, but that’s still a little confounding to actually play witness to. No one’s going to hold that against you, it’s okay to be a little overwhelmed by it all.   
It’s a new reality for you. It makes sense that that would be accompanied with a new feeling too. Anxiety isn’t something that’s really presented itself to you when thinking of Alexia before now. Of course it isn't, why would it have been?   
Picturing little scenarios with her in your mind was fun, it was silly. It didn’t really mean anything when you were never going to find her again. You didn’t need to go putting doubts about yourself in imaginary-Alexia’s head, that wouldn’t keep things very fun and silly at all.   
There are a few doubts about yourself in your own head now, perhaps. Seeing as you have found her again, you’re falling for her, and she’s clearly not the little nobody that you thought you’d entangled yourself with, but that’s probably fine. It’ll be a temporary thing. Let’s not worry about it right this second. Let’s just enjoy the game instead!  
It really isn’t wise for you to start stewing on things. You really will start spiralling.   
How could you not?   
If you start letting yourself think too hard about all the things that you were lacking, and what you simply couldn’t offer to keep a pathetic pig of a man satisfied, and you really start allowing yourself to question why you weren’t good enough for him, that isn’t going to put you in a very good mindset when seeing all these fans that Alexia has.   
Her supporters aren’t limited to just little kids or grown men. There’s a lot of women here, also sporting her name. It isn’t necessarily the case that all of these women are gay, that’s not really how watching women’s football works. She can have straight women being her fans too.   
Some of them are probably gay, though, aren’t they? Lots of the ones that are gay, with her name on them, might have a little crush on her. It’s very likely that absolutely none of them will have had to do research all day to make sure that they knew what was going on this evening. All of them will have already known everything. They’ll be genuinely into football, genuine fans of Alexia.   
Gorgeous, confidently gay, and really into football. Those are the women that surround you right now. That’s fine. What’s wrong with that?  
Why are you letting yourself worry? Why are you letting them get to you? Because they make more sense for her? Because they’re better for her? Because you’re not a fan of football?   
Alexia already knows that, she didn’t walk out on you because of it. 
She did giggle a few times at your idiocy, though, didn’t she? So, she probably did think you were a little foolish. She would presumably think it was a bit lame of you, to have spent quite so much time studying for a football match. Who else has ever had to do that? You really probably are the only one. That is a bit embarrassing. Quite pathetic of you.   
Damn.   
What a loser, you are.   
Shit.   
Maybe you should let it get to you. Maybe you’ve let yourself get carried away. Maybe you’re having a psychotic break. You’re letting yourself fall for a woman. A Spanish woman. A famous Spanish woman. A famous Spanish woman who plays football professionally, for crying out loud! Look at all of these beautiful lesbian fans that she has here. What the hell do you think you’re playing at?   
You? A little nobody from London, who couldn’t even keep an ugly bastard of a man happy? If you weren’t even able to manage to do that, how could you possibly hope to be good enough, for two-time Ballon d’Or recipient, current Champions League and World Cup winner, Barcelona’s sweetheart, Alexia Putellas?   
That doesn’t seem very likely at all, does it? You being the soulmate of this ethereal goddess of a woman? Behave yourself. You really are delusional.   
Maybe that’s why she wanted you here, to laugh at you. Point and laugh at you with all of her football friends.   
Just go home now. Pretend that you’re ill. You do look a little ill. You’ve let yourself spiral, haven’t you? I did warn you about doing that. Now look at the state of you. This is very tragic.  
 
“Mate, what are you doing?” Em asks, as you once again find yourself paralysed, staring at yet another stranger’s shirt.    
“I just ..I don’t feel well.” You mumble.    
“Noo. Please don’t do that!” She begs, all too aware of what your next statement is going to be. “We’re here now!” She reminds you, bouncing on her toes. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought up that wanker, but please, we can still enjoy this together. You’ve been so excited about it all day.” She gives you a very sad pout, lightly pulling on your arm, trying to encourage you to keep following her.   
You really have been excited all day. It would be a shame to let your intrusive thoughts ruin it for you. You don’t want to let that bastard keep dictating all of the fun you’re allowed to have. You’re just here to enjoy some football.  
Woo!  
“Sorry. I just—” You pause, giving your head another shake as you try to catch your breath. “She’s just ..very popular.” You reiterate, gesturing to the stranger’s back with your thumb.   
“Did you think you’d be the only one here wearing her name?” She snorts. “I told you the woman who gave it to you was basic.”  
Your mind is still racing a little as you follow your sister out towards the stands. The atmosphere is even more intense inside of the stadium, and you try to let yourself embrace it all again, but it is mildly dizzying this time around.  
Em has nabbed you some pretty decent seats to be fair to her, though. One thing about your sister, she is absolutely going to treat herself and overspend on her interests without a care in the world. It’s something you often advise against her doing, it's not the wisest thing for her to do with her money. You couldn’t really be more grateful for it right now, though, when you’re practically sitting front row.  
Both teams are still out warming up, and you let your eyes roam the Barcelona side for a moment. You finally notice Alexia amongst all of the chaos, and you immediately stop noticing anything else. Your mind goes completely blank, just at the mere sight of her.  
She really does calm you right down, truly nothing else matters when she’s around you. That’s really very lovely. It’s a good thing you don’t live in two separate countries from each other. Imagine the way your mind would implode if you couldn’t just look at her all the time to stop your mental deterioration.. 
You watch Alexia, as she completes her runs, does some drills, begins to stretch. It’s like she’s the only one out there on the field, working in slow motion, putting on a show, just for you. There’s absolutely no reason for it to be as sexy as it is, she’s literally just warming up, but you find yourself, jaw clenched, as you observe her movements.   
She pauses for a drink break, and you remain mesmerised as she squeezes a jet of water into her mouth and pours a little extra over her face. You bite down on your bottom lip as you follow the beads of liquid rolling down her neck, slowly travelling under her shirt, and your breath hitches, as you allow yourself to remember exactly what it is that she’s concealing under her shirt. You can picture that body perfectly; you’ve thought of little else aside from it for over a month.  
She’s all hot, and sweaty, and— please! Pull yourself together! You’re in public, and you’re practically drooling. Do you remember when you were straight? Straight straight straight. Try channeling a bit more of that, perhaps. You’ll be an absolute puddle right there in your seat, otherwise.  
“There’s your one.” Your sister reminds you, making you jump as she nudges you and gestures down across to the pitch, once again pulling you away from your redacted thoughts.   
“Oh yeah! Thanks.” You tell her, feigning surprise, as you hide the small smile on your face, and swallow down on your arousal. You subtly wipe at the corners of your mouth with the back of your finger, just in case a bit of drool really had started falling, and you nod to your sister in acknowledgment. “She really is quite ..pretty.” You say pointedly, paying close attention to your sister’s thoughts and feelings on the matter.   
It probably wouldn’t be ideal if your sister showed an interest. She has a rather troubling talent with the ladies, and you’re not too sure you’d rate your chances going up against her, where another woman’s concerned.  
It really isn’t something you’ve ever had to think about before. There was never any chance of you two being into the same person until Alexia flicked a switch inside of your head. It was only a joke when she mentioned it in the café, but you can’t pretend it hasn’t niggled in the back of your mind a little.  
If you do end up introducing them, and they really hit it off? They almost certainly have more in common than you and Alexia do. They could talk for days about football together; they both have multiple tattoos where you only have a single measly little thing on your ribs. They’re both definitely gay, which is far more than you can say about yourself.  
That’s three strikes right there, isn’t it? That’s not very good.  
That’s all you get.  
You’re already out of the race.  
You’ll introduce them, they’ll fall in love, get married, have kids, and you’re left pining after your sister’s wife for the rest of eternity. Even the sweet release of death wouldn’t save you from a heartache that powerful. That’s an eternal pain. It’s permanent, infinite. A truly deathless agony that’ll haunt you till the very end of time itself.  
Good grief! 
What’s going on with you? You’re being very dramatic and sad suddenly. This really isn’t like you. You’ve only met this woman twice. Snap out of it! 
“Sure, I guess.” Em shrugs, not at all taken in by Alexia’s beauty. She really does have very questionable taste in women. You really should have known that already, that isn’t new information to you. You desperately need to calm down, you’re getting yourself into a really bad place.  
“Which one’s that?” She asks you, testing your knowledge as she points to another player on the field.   
“Ona Batlle.” You tell her confidently, shaking your worries from your head as you try to focus on what really matters right now. “Defender. Used to play for United.”  
“Very good,” she commends, genuinely quite impressed with the results of your last-minute cramming, “and that?”  
“María León. Mapi. Also, a defender. Didn’t go to the World Cup.”  
“Mhmm! And that?”  
“Not a bloody clue!”  
“For fuck’s sake.” She grumbles.   
“What? She’s one of yours,” you point out, grinning, “I don’t give a shit about the Chelsea players!”  
“You really are a twat.” She tells you, smacking your shoulder, before she crosses her arms and leans back into her seat. “Do you remember how the game works?” She asks you, rather condescendingly. “Do you need me to go through it all again for you?”  
“No, thank you.” You reassure her, innocently. “I think I’ve got it all memorised ..it’s just the best of three sets in the women’s game, right?”  
“Twat.” Em calls you again, and you chuckle to yourself, relaxing back down into your own seat, entirely satisfied with just how incredibly easy she is to wind up.  
You return your attention back to Alexia’s warmup routine, making sure to not keep letting your mind run wild with more dirty thoughts. It has been over a month for you, but even your sister’s showing a bit more decorum with her ogling of Sam Kerr. You really can control yourself better than this, you are not an animal.  
Alexia pauses her drills to have another sexy little drink, and you notice her surveying the crowd as she downs her water. She does a very careful examination of the away section, and she stops to stare, as soon as she finds you.  
You’re once again the only two people in the whole vicinity, as her eyes meet yours, and a bashful smile takes over her face.  
Whatever concerns you might be battling with, you can definitely be certain, that this woman wants you here today, and she isn’t at all discreet about how happy she is to see that you’ve come, and that you’re wearing her shirt.  
She mouths a little ‘hi’ to you, and it’s impossible for you not to smile at her, when your heart’s jumping up inside of your chest. You mouth back a ‘hi’ followed by a ‘wow’, with a slight wince, as you dramatically flit your eyes around your surroundings, and she bites at her lip, with a clear sense of awkwardness.  
‘I’m sorry.’ She tells you silently, but you shake your head at her with a furrowed brow.  
‘Don’t be daft, good luck!’ you offer with a smile, and a subtle thumbs up. You tap proudly at the badge on your chest, and Alexia’s smile only grows as she watches you.  
She responds with a nod, a ‘gracias’ and her own thumbs up, which clearly wasn’t as subtle as yours, as it didn’t go unnoticed by your sister.  
“Was that directed at you?” She asks, squinting at Alexia as she moves with the other players down towards the tunnel.   
“Hm? Looked like that, didn’t it?” 
“That’s quite cool.” She acknowledges. “She’ll probably think you got lost on the way in, sitting here with us. You don’t exactly blend in!”  
“No, that’s true.” You chuckle, tapping your hands down the red stripes on your torso. “Maybe she just felt bad for me, stuck here with you losers.”  
“Mm.” She grumbles, pulling a face at you. “That’s Sam Kerr!” She informs you excitedly, quickly moving on from your interaction, and focusing back on who she deems to be, the more important star of this evening’s show.   
“I know who Sam Kerr is,” you sigh, “I’m not an idiot. I’ve seen her poster on your wall.”  
“Mmmmmm.” She hums, gazing very dreamily at the striker as she makes her own way off of the pitch.   
“Oh, please.” You start, rolling your eyes at the state that she’s getting herself into. “Have some self-control, Em, we’re in public!”  
You really are a shameless little hypocrite.
  
Goosebumps spread all over your skin as the teams return to the pitch, and the Champions League anthem rings out around the stadium. You can feel the excitement really getting to you, as the hairs on your arms stand up on end.  
It’s very overwhelming. You couldn’t have cared less about this match yesterday morning, and now it’s the most important thing in the world to you.  
All for a girl, what has gotten into you?  
The game is highly contested right from the first whistle. With the first leg ending in a 0-0 draw, neither team is able to rely on aggregate to get themselves through, and you can feel the pressure that the players are under.  
Both sides are naturally desperate to win, though expectation is slightly higher for Barcelona, seeing as they won the whole thing last season.   
There’s a very mild sense of nervousness in you about the result. You’re not really sure how you’d go about consoling someone after a huge sporting defeat. You’ve never been very good at comforting Em when a football score has left her upset, and it’s probably far worse when you’re actually on the team that’s lost, and not just watching it through the television.  
You know exactly how Alexia would be able to cheer you up, and you’d be more than willing to try the same technique with her. She might not be as horned up as you clearly are, though. You may very well need to start drafting a proper commiserative speech for her, if the game does start running away from them. Sexual favours may simply not be enough.  
You do take some comfort in the fact that Barcelona haven’t lost to Chelsea before, and while you appreciate that nothing’s guaranteed in sports, Alexia’s very good, and you know for a fact that the rest of her teammates really aren’t too shabby either. There’s a reason that they’ve won this whole thing twice, and you’re letting the knowledge of that keep you from getting too worked up about it.  
Alexia’s the best in the world, and no best in the world is losing to bloody Chelsea, not today.  
Alexia’s incredible for you to watch when she plays, even when she only has possession for a second. She’s just a wizard on the ball, the way she reads the game so easily, how she seems to predict everyone’s movements. She’s always in control, unwaveringly calm, deliberate in her choices.  
She almost dances with the ball, and it’s impossible to deny how unbelievably gifted she is, as she weaves around her opponents. She has a very distinctive flair, for making it all look so effortless. It’s just incredibly sexy of her, and you find yourself wiping at the corners of your mouth again as you watch on, just in case.   
It’s not a skill that you’ve ever really appreciated in a person before. You’ve had boyfriends that played football in school, you watched your sister plenty of times when she was little, but you never really focused on them while they were actually playing.  
You’d cheer at the right moments, making the correct noises when you needed to, just following the rest of the crowd’s lead, mainly. You found it all a bit boring, really, it didn’t mean anything to you.   
Now, Alexia’s only casually passing the ball between herself and a few of her teammates, and you’re absolutely entranced by her, you couldn’t think of anything else you’d rather be watching. There’s a glow to her as she plays. She’s enthralling, captivating. You might be her number one fan.  
The match aside from Alexia’s performance, is far more tense than you’d care to admit. Both teams have plenty of attempts on goal, neither of them score. Every missed shot from Barcelona has you cursing under your breath, and every near goal from Chelsea has you covering your eyes like a child. It’s a little unbearable, you absolutely love it. It’s what sport’s all about.   
It’s a very unexpected reaction from you. The way your heart’s started palpitating, the slight tightness in your shoulders whenever a Chelsea player’s on the ball, the elation shooting through you every time Barcelona regains possession. It’s the skin around the nail of your thumb that suffers the most under your passion, as you nibble at it relentlessly, watching everything unfold with a high degree of intensity.   
You keep knocking your sister every time Alexia gets close to scoring, gripping at Em’s sleeve and tugging at her in anticipation. It’s hard to tell if it’s an excitable twitch, or if it’s stress-tapping of your foot, but every nerve in your body is on fire as you watch Alexia in her element. Em still can’t really understand your newly established avidity for the game, but she continually embraces it all with a light chuckle as she keeps telling you to “please, calm down.”   
The whistle blows for halftime and it’s still level at 0-0. You can barely contain yourself, letting out a huge breath that you weren’t fully aware you’d been holding in.   
“I can’t survive another half like that!” You warn Em, bashing your head against her shoulder. “I need a goal. Just one goal!” Your legs are bobbing up and down, as the adrenaline in you tries to find a way of escaping your body, and she rests her hand over them to calm you down.  
“Do you need a wee?” She asks, a little concerned at the mess you’re turning into, and you shake your head with a laugh.   
“No, I’m good, thanks! I just ..really want them to win.”  
“You’re really into it, aren’t you?” She chuckles.  
“Mhmm. Thank you for bringing me here.”  
“You’re welcome! I’m glad you decided to stay.” She tells you, with a proud smile on her face at finally winning you over on her favourite interest. “It’s a shame you’re rooting for the dark side, though. It’s weird that this is the team that speaks to you.”  
“Mm. I’m sorry about that.” You offer half-heartedly, pulling at the badge on your shirt to give it a kiss.  
“You’re such a traitor,” she tells you with a flick to your forehead, “Dad will be disgusted when I tell him.” 
 
The second half starts, and it’s much the same as the first. There’s more near misses, a few choice attempts on goal, and the game starts getting far sloppier as both sides get more desperate to score. There are some pretty ugly fouls, resulting in a few yellow cards being issued to both teams, and you’re suddenly far less concerned with winning, and far more worried about Alexia just making it out in one piece.  
“It’s quite brutal!” You point out to your sister, flinching as another Chelsea player goes tumbling to the ground.  
“Mm. You think she’d be more careful.” She tells you. She taps at the number on your shirt, and it sends an instant chill racing up the back of your neck.  
“What’s that supposed to mean?” You question, biting down hard on your thumb as you await her response.  
“She tore her ACL a couple years back, took her out of the Euros. She hardly played at all last season.” 
“Tore her ACL?” You ask, exhaling slowly as you make the connection in your head. “Would that be her knee?” 
“Mhmm.” 
“Shit.” Drops out of your mouth, as you bite your thumb a little too deeply, and you try to shake the stinging from your hand.  
It makes sense, that Em would choose to withhold this little titbit of information from you, you really are quite squeamish. If you’d known this game could turn into such a bloodbath, you’d have probably elected to stay home. 
Alexia had played it coy, when you traced your fingers over her scars that night. She wasn’t exactly uncomfortable with you asking her about them, but it still wasn’t something she was going to get into with you. You weren’t going to force the issue too hard, you’re not an idiot, but it had certainly piqued your interest. She really wasn’t forthcoming with any information about herself, and it quickly became apparent how talented she was at deflecting from your queries.  
It stopped being at the forefront of your mind completely, when she was otherwise so distracting with it. Her scars didn’t inhibit her at all when she was pressing her knee against you. It felt good, she seemed fine, who were you to question? 
“Should she be playing at all?” You ask flicking your thumb against your finger to try and weaken the pain shooting through it.  
“Sure! Lots of them do, you just think it’d freak ‘em out a bit more.” She tells you. “It’s amazing she still throws herself into it as much as she does, really.” 
“You don’t become the best by tapping out.” You recognise, and she excitedly nods her head at you.  
“No, exactly! Sometimes it happens again, though. Can be the exact same rupture, different tear, same leg. A few players have it happen to their other leg..” Em continues to give you a very unhelpful rundown of just how common this career-jeopardising injury seems to be, and an uncomfortable lump forms in your throat as she goes a little too deep into all of the details with it. “Are you okay?” She asks, cutting herself off at your obvious discomfort at her lecture, and she gently taps at your shoulder. “You’ve gone quite pale.” 
“I don’t like seeing people get hurt, you know that.” 
“She’ll be alright.” She reassures you, gesturing to the Chelsea player as she pulls herself back to her feet. “It’s just when a player gets stretchered off, really. That’s when you properly worry about them.” 
You suddenly find yourself, very stressed. 
It immediately feels like Alexia, in particular, has a target on her back as the game continues. Every time she gets on the ball, a Chelsea player comes flying in, rather aggressively, trying to win it back off of her. It’s a very violent onslaught, and it’s not one that you’re keen on watching.   
She spends most of the second half having to drag herself back to her feet, and you no longer feel like you can just blame it on the slightly wet grass, when there’s a menacing little Chelsea player hovering ominously over her every time she goes down to the ground.  
The game is still level as the clock starts running down the final few minutes, but any sense of relief that this torture is almost over, is immediately extinguished, as you remember that this specific game would have to go to extra time, and then penalties, if no one��s able to break the deadlock.   
Penalty shootouts, on their own, are usually just about the only thing you can tolerate in football, when you’re a neutral with zero stakes. It sounds like a nightmare now, however. Especially as it means you’d have to endure 30 extra minutes of the Chelsea players’ assault on Alexia.   
You really can’t take it. Your heart’s started thumping. You have a headache forming. Your fingers have turned to ice.  
You’re out of your seat as Alexia makes a beeline for the goal in the 87th minute. It’s an incredible scoring opportunity, she can’t miss.   
A Chelsea defender appears to the side of her, as if from nowhere as Alexia lines up her shot, and she’s brutally slid into, just outside of the area.   
You can hear the collision as it happens, it almost reverberates throughout the whole stadium. Life in the arena comes to a complete standstill, as everyone just watches it all unfold.   
Alexia goes down, and the world stops spinning, your heart stops beating, and time stands still.   
She stays down, and your body goes rigid, your blood runs cold, and you want to be sick.  
Get up. Please get up.  
Your sister grips on to your arm trying to comfort you, trying to tell you that it probably isn’t as bad as it looked, but your eyes don’t move from where Alexia lies on the floor, clutching her knee.   
Medics are rushed onto the pitch with a stretcher in hand, and you remain frozen in place.   
Please get up. Just get up.  
The defender is back on her feet only a minute after the tackle, and she’s shown a yellow card for her foul. You want to throttle the referee right there and then.  
“It should be a straight fucking red!” You shout, as you grip your hands together on the top of your head, trying to distract yourself from the burning in your eyes, and the new quiet ringing that’s started in your ears.   
You receive a couple of snide looks from the supporters surrounding you for your little outburst, and you can hear a few less-than-friendly words being bellowed out at you, but frankly, you don’t give a fuck.  
Just get up. Get up and walk off if you have to. Just get. up.  
You want to jump over the seats. Push every annoying, arsehole supporter in a Chelsea shirt right out of your way and invade the pitch to be with her. Your body’s screaming out at you to do something, anything, and you can’t. You’re useless to her.   
Just get up.  
Alexia looks to be in agony on the ground. A few of the Barcelona players are swarming the referee for her blatant incompetence. Even the other Chelsea players are a little amazed that they’ve gotten away with it, without going a player down.   
It was a dirty foul. Out of character, according to your sister. You don’t care. It could’ve been a complete accident by her, and you’re not fussed. It was reckless, it was filthy, and she should be off that goddamn pitch with some level of suspension at least.  
Get up. Please.  
Em tries to pull you back into your seat and you still don’t budge. You stand where you are, watching the small crowd on the pitch, as it slowly blocks Alexia from your view. You bite at the skin on your thumb, willing yourself to stay calm, willing Alexia to just get the fuck up.   
It feels like a lifetime waiting for things to happen, for any sign of development from the scene on the ground. You ultimately collapse back down into your chair, trying to catch your breath, trying to stop the world from swirling around you, trying to stop your brain from assuming the worst. You close your eyes, holding your face in your hands, blocking it all out.  
Get. Up.   
This isn’t really what you signed up for, is it? You wanted to watch the girl you like, play a little game of football. Possibly celebrate her winning, with some adult-fun-time. Not find out that she’s fairly recently had such a serious injury, and then watch her go crashing down to the ground, holding that specific body part. You can’t do anything about it. You can’t help. You’re stuck in place, watching it all happen right in front of you.  
This is torture. Maybe this is why you never let yourself get into football. Who is this fun for exactly? What’s the point in it all?  
What an unbelievably useless waste of your time. You were already in a bad enough place before the game kicked off and distracted you from it. Now it’s made it worse. This is terrible. You really should have just stayed home. Imagine coming all the way out to Spain and making yourself bloody ill with it. Jesus Christ.  
Please. Get up.  
After what feels like hours, the medics do start slowly dissipating and there’s a cautious ripple of applause around the stadium, because Alexia has gotten up, but not of her own accord. She’s being flanked by Mapi and Asisat, and she looks very unstable.  
They carefully remove themselves from under her arms, and she’s not very well balanced at all. She’s reluctant to put too much weight on her leg, she’s limping, and she’s still gripping onto Mapi for dear life, but she's not being stretchered off. She’s up, and you can breathe again.   
You watch on as she tests her strength, steadily gaining confidence that her knee isn’t going to give way beneath her, and she puts her hand up to Jonatan to indicate that she will not be getting subbed off. She gives her body a shake, looks over in your direction, and she nods to herself with a reinvigorated sense of determination.   
You don’t know if you’re completely turned on by her bold display of bravery, or if you want to give her a slap for being quite so carelessly audacious. She doesn’t need to play the hero; you’d rather she just sat it out.  
“What is she doing?” You mutter under your breath, shaking your head as Alexia waits to be let back into the game.  
“You don’t become the best by tapping out!” Em reminds you, with a smile, patting your shoulder reassuringly. Her entire demeanour is in stark contrast to the one that you’re currently displaying, and as comforting as she’s trying to be by rubbing at your arm, it isn’t very effective. “Are you sure you’re okay?” She asks. “You look really unwell.”  
“Mhmm.” Is all you’re able to mumble out, as your eyes lock onto Alexia on the sidelines.  
The free kick awarded for the foul is saved, and Alexia’s back on the pitch for the corner. You want to stop her. You want to swear at her. You can’t handle it. You need a drink.   
You grab at the neckline of your shirt and pull it up over the bottom half of your face. You’re very very stressed. Even the familiar smell of her on your top isn’t doing much to comfort you. She’s an idiot. She’s so unbelievably stupid. What the fuck?  
You watch the corner kick, as the ball goes sailing over the heads of everyone, before it connects with Alexia’s forehead and skims past the tips of the keeper’s fingers.   
The stadium erupts around you, and you’re back up off of your seat, letting out your own roar in celebration. Your eyes are absolutely stinging with tears, as you hold your forehead against your hands, and there’s more than a few snide looks at you from the supporters you’re buried in, given your lack of propriety about the situation.  
You’re getting called every colourful derogatory term under the sun for your rather ungodly little cheer, and still, you couldn’t care less. You let out a few huge breaths, trying to steady yourself, and despite her team now trailing in the final minutes, Em wraps her arms around you, giving you a shake, as she tries to get you to properly enjoy the moment.  
Alexia points up to the sky in celebration, and you can hear her name being gradually chanted around the stands. It catches in your ear, echoing in a crescendoing drone. It’s deafening, unrelenting, and you try to shake it back out of your head before it really starts getting too much for you.  
You know that there’s going to be a fair few minutes of added time with how many fouls the second half has had and given how long Alexia was just down for especially, but you can see how the life’s just been completely zapped from the Chelsea side. They’re not equalising today; the game is done.   
The whistle blows for full time at 1-0 and you finally slump back down into your seat. The stadium is going absolutely wild around you, and you just close your eyes to it, waiting for it all to die down.  
You can hear your sister trying to pull you out of your head, but you press your palms against your eyelids, trying to block everything out. Your body’s racking itself. There’s a sharp shortness to your breath, an uneven rapidity to your heartbeat. Your head’s burning up, and your eyes are stinging.  
You’re not really cut out for this, are you? It’s all gotten a bit much. You really are spiralling, look at the state of you. All this, because of one unfortunate, mistimed tackle? Because there’s a few extra people here that know Alexia’s name?   
Barcelona just won, Alexia just scored the winning goal, and you’re collapsing in on yourself. 
What would you have been like if they had just lost? If Alexia had been genuinely hurt? Not much good, clearly. Not very helpful.  
Alexia deserves someone better. Someone who doesn’t go into a panic in the stands whenever she hits the deck. Someone who isn’t unnerved by her celebrity status. Maybe someone, who isn’t questioning her identity, at the ripe old age, of 26.  
She deserves someone, who very much, isn’t you. 
It takes a few minutes for you to come back around, pulling yourself from your oppressive thoughts, and you can see colourful stars in your eyes as you finally relieve the pressure you were forcing against them. Em offers you some water, and you down it while she stares at you, her brow wrinkled with worry.   
“Are you okay?”  
“Mhmm. I’m fine, sorry.”  
“You won!” She points out, with a cautious optimism, smiling at you as she chuckles softly. “You’re supposed to be celebrating, not ..whatever the hell this is.”  
“I’m really sorry, I just ..I don’t like people getting hurt.”  
“You wouldn’t have had to go to a hospital with her, it’s alright.”  
“Mm.”  
She gives you a hug, which lasts a suspiciously long time for her, and you can feel her jaw moving against your shoulder as she lifts her head slightly.  
“Are you okay?” You ask, frowning as you push her away from you.   
“Mhmm.” She mumbles, not moving her eyes away from whatever it is that she’s seen behind you. “Are you definitely fine?” She checks again, with a mild desperation to her voice.  
“..Yes?” You reassure her, turning around in your seat to try and follow her gaze.  
“I’ll see you in the morning, then!” She tells you hastily, and she nudges your arm, before tossing your sweatshirt from her bag at you, and straightening herself up.  
“Wait, what?” You question, rather baffled by her quick switch in focus. “Where are you going tonight?”  
Em just directs your vision up a few rows of seats, to a red-headed woman who has very clearly taken her fancy. They’ve been making googly-eyes at each other all match apparently. Since you wound your sister up earlier, with your unwavering new support for the enemy, and Chelsea have just crashed out of the Champions League again, she’s going home with her tonight, to drown her sorrows.   
She really does have an incredible success rate with the ladies, at least you won’t have to make breakfast for this one in the morning.  
 
“You’re off, just like that?” You ask.   
“We can hang out again tomorrow?”  
“Aw, I appreciate that, Em. Thanks!” 
She chuckles at you, bouncing on her toes. “Ring taxi-man.” She advises you with a wink. “Or try to find your mysterious hickey-man, again! You deserve to have fun tonight. Celebrate the win properly! Get yourself another love bite!”  
“Mm.” You mutter, and she crouches down in front of you again.  
“Are you sure you’re okay?” She asks. “I can stay with you, if you want?”  
“Hm? No, don’t be daft. It’s fine, really.  Thanks. Go, have fun.”  
She doesn’t hang around long enough for you to change your mind. She gives you a far quicker hug than the previous one, patting you on the head, before running off and introducing herself to her new friend at the steps. They both cast you a quick wave, which you return a little awkwardly, before they walk up towards the exit. Just as easy as that.  
“Be safe!” You call out to them behind you, as you turn your attention back to the celebrations on the pitch.  
It takes a long while for the atmosphere in the stadium to really start fizzling out, and there’s still a distinct little hum of excitement that rattles through it, as the crowd dwindles, and the players continue making their way around the grounds.   
Alexia grins up at you as she passes by your section, and you can only manage to give her a weak smile in return as you pat your leg at her with a questioning look. She smacks her knee a couple of times, smiling with a dramatic roll of her eyes, and she gives you a thumbs up to signal to you that she really is okay. She isn’t limping anymore as she heads over towards the fans, so you could almost pretend it hadn’t happened at all, if it hadn’t been quite so mentally draining.   
A fair amount of supporters still line the barriers, holding out shirts and signs, and just about anything else that they can get a player’s autograph scrawled onto. Most of them are shouting for Alexia’s attention, and her popularity and fame is still quite an overwhelming thing for you to take in.  
She doesn’t miss any of them, they all get their moment with her. She makes sure everyone gets seen too, everything gets signed. She doesn’t rush a single encounter, and you don’t miss the way people’s faces keep lighting up whenever she approaches them.  
It’s very hard not to keep falling for her, watching her interact with people, the way that she is with them. She’s just good. She’s good at what she does, she's good with her fans, she’s a good person.   
You’re biting at your thumb again.  
The knuckles on your other hand, turning white, with the vice-like grip that you have on her sweatshirt. Your legs are bobbing, and you can feel your fingers freezing up. There’s a lot of combatting emotions fighting for dominance in your head, and you’re very unsure of yourself.  
The Chelsea fans were in far less of a partying mood, clearly, as you find yourself the only one left in the away section. You watch Alexia converse with the ever-diminishing crowd for a moment longer, before deciding, maybe it’s time for you to go, too.  
This isn’t your world; you don’t belong in it. It’s been a fun time with her, and there’s definitely a something between you, that’s been nice to explore, but there’s clearly been some sort of mistake. A divine, serendipitous little mix-up. She can’t be the one for you, as you’re really not the right one for her. It’s okay for this to be it, it’s okay for you to go.  
You walk down to the barrier and carefully rest her sweatshirt over it. You can’t really also leave her football shirt behind with it, but she’s probably not desperate for that back. She’ll have loads of them lying about, there’s probably another one waiting in her training bag, ready for her to give to someone else.  
You pat at the sweatshirt a few times, debating with yourself, and you look back up across the pitch to where Alexia is still signing shirts. She almost certainly does deserve someone better than you but abandoning her is still quite a harsh thing for you to do, she definitely deserves better than that.  
You can’t just leave her and not give her a reason for it, that’s very cruel. She was excited to see you, she’ll be upset if you walk out on her.  
You crash your head down onto the sweatshirt trying to decide your next move, letting out a quiet groan as you draw a blank. She’s still preoccupied with her fans when you raise your head again, and you start pacing the length of the railing tapping the tips of your fingers together.  
You look back down at the sweatshirt, across to Alexia, and up to the exit. Down at the sweatshirt, across to Alexia, and up to the exit.  
Sweatshirt, Alexia, exit.  
Sweatshirt, Alexia, exit. 
Sweatshirt, Alexia, exit. Exit. Exit.  
You find yourself stuck on the steps, only a second later, facing away from the pitch, without her sweatshirt in your hands. You’re really not sure what your plan is. 
You do still have that number in your pocket, you could always give him a call, he really was very good-looking, exactly your usual type. Tall, dark, handsome. Friendly. Very friendly. It’s classic to you, it’s easy. Maybe your sister’s right. You need to have a meaningless night with some random company that you just don’t give a shit about.   
You really just don’t want to go out with him, though. There’s a woman on the other side of the pitch that your heart’s still lunging out in the direction of, who still puts butterflies in your stomach every time she so much as looks at you.  
You don’t want to leave. You like this woman too much. There’s something real between you. Something strong.  
Maybe it’s too strong.  
It’s impossibly strong.  
It’s a delusional level of strong.  
You’re almost at the final step before the exit, when you hear a little whistle from behind you and it stops you in your tracks. Maybe it was that little bungee cord between you both, that alerted her to your leaving.  
It sends another chill coursing up the back of your neck, and there’s an instant blurring to your vision, as your eyes start welling up. 
“Y/N?” She calls up to you, with a small strain to her voice, and you flinch, your gaze dropping to the floor. Your jaw clenches, and you freeze in place, closing your eyes, in the hopes of just disappearing from right there in front of her.  
You can still go, just keep walking. It would still be very hard for her to find you. She doesn’t have your surname, or your address, she doesn’t know your phone number. 
You can get a clean break.  
Leave it as a solo night of fun. The meaningless distraction from him, that it was always supposed to have been. Stop letting yourself fall for her. Stop letting yourself care and worry, about a woman that you barely know. Go home. Behave. Find yourself a man and get on with your regular life.  
There’s another cautious whistle as you debate with yourself, and your heart aches, hearing it echo around you. You shift your body weight, awkwardly, from your toes to your heels, and back again, a fair few times. You drum your fingers against your thighs, over your stomach, and you look up at the sky, searching for an answer.  
You need someone to give you a push, give you a sign that you’re not making another mistake. You want your sister to come back and slap some sense into you. You want your mother to tell you what to do, she always did have the right answers.  
You gently tap your fingers to your face, trying to pull yourself back into your body, as you study the stars above you.  
There seems to be a definite twinkle to one of them, and you really don’t care if you’re just seeing things. You’re looking for an excuse, any excuse, and a slight flicker in the sky, is exactly what you needed. 
You straighten yourself up, before letting out a long breath with a small nod. You bounce on your toes, and you give your eyes a quick rub, before you ever so slowly, turn yourself back around.   
You might still be an idiot. A whole damn blasted fool.  
But she’s impossible for you to walk away from. That’s just not how it’s going to work with her. She already means too much, you’re already in too deep. She’s set up shop inside of your head, she’s already living inside of your heart. You couldn’t walk away from her, even if you wanted to. 
She has your heart skipping beats, whenever she says your name. She has the rest of existence fading into nothingness around you, when all she’s done is take your hand in hers. She sends goosebumps down your neck when she whispers to you, has you rolling your eyes with a chuckle, when she’s being a playful windup. Your mind starts spinning when she kisses you, and you feel safe when you’re resting in her arms.  
You had one of the best afternoons of your life yesterday, doing nothing, but spend a bit more time with her. Learning about her, laughing with her, kissing her. She’s put a burning inside of you, and a smile on your face. You spent the whole of last night, wide awake, because you couldn’t wait to see her again. She told you that she couldn’t wait to see you, either.  
This isn’t a solo night of fun, it’s not a meaningless distraction. It never really has been with her. It might very well be your person, that’s waiting for you down there, and you’d only stand to lose everything, if you walk away from her now.  
You draw in a breath and look down to the sidelines of the pitch. It’s the greatest women’s footballer in the world, that’s leaning up against the stands for you, and she’s hoping, that you’re not about to leave her, not without at least saying goodbye to her first.    
She looks very small when you see her. All the grandeur, and spectacle that shrouded her during the game, has been completely wiped once again. She’s just Alexia, Ale, A. She’s just a woman that you met in a nightclub, just a girl that you’ve been getting to know.  
There’s a very obvious sense of worry in her, it’s not a look that often spreads across her face. She shuffles herself, tapping her hands gently on the sweatshirt over the barrier as she tilts her head down towards the ground, and you steadily make your way back down the steps towards her.  
“Felicitats.” You offer weakly, and she smiles softly up at you.  
“Gràcies.”  
“Is your knee okay?” 
“Yes.”   
“Are you sure?”  
“Yes. I promise.”   
“It wasn’t a very friendly challenge.” You tell her, frowning at the tunnel that the Chelsea player made her escape from you down. “You gave me a fright, when you didn’t bounce straight back up. Are you definitely okay?”  
“Yes, I’m fine!” She insists. “Look!” She tells you, patting her knee a few more times, and kicking her leg out to show you that it hasn’t fallen off. You can’t not smile back at her when she’s being so very cute, even if she is incredibly stupid. “I promise you, it’s fine.” She repeats, and you just have to believe her.  
“You didn’t fancy telling me your big secret, yourself?” You call out, as you continue making your way towards the pitch, glancing around the stadium, before sliding your hands into your back pockets.   
“It didn’t feel ..that important,” is the excuse she gives to you, as she picks at the fabric in her hands, “the night that we first met.”  
“And yesterday?” You push, crinkling your brow up slightly. “Still not that important?”  
Her gaze drops to the ground as you wait on the bottom step, and you nibble at the inside of your mouth. “Are you angry with me?” She asks nervously, quietly tapping her hands with a bit more agitation, and not yet meeting your eyes.  
There’s a painful twinge in your heart as you watch her unfamiliar mannerisms, you much prefer when she’s being insufferably cocky and annoying. It’s far less painful, a lot more fun.  
You let out a breath, before closing the rest of the distance between you both, and you gently rest your hands on top of hers, to stop her little nervous drum solo. She still doesn’t lift her head to face you, and you take in a shaky breath, readying yourself.  
“Do I seem angry?” You ask her quietly, trying to encourage her to look at you, as you delicately draw shapes on the backs of her hands, to distract you both a little from the obvious tension.  
You don’t miss the goosebumps that quickly form up Alexia’s arms as you do, and there’s a feeling that jolts inside of you, knowing that you both have the exact same effect on each other, even with the most casual of touches.  
She lifts her eyes to study your face, and she shakes her head, as you smile softy back at her.  
“Well, there you go then!” You tell her with a light chuckle, placing a kiss to her forehead before resting yourself against the railing between you both, and she lets out a wobbly breath. “Of course I’m not angry with you ..I did feel a bit stupid last night, that I really didn’t know.” You explain. “..I feel a bit intimidated, now that I do.”  
“I’m still just me.” She reminds you quickly, and you can see the shimmer in her eyes, as she tries to keep herself from cracking.   
You can’t help narrowing your eyes at her little claim as she collapses her head down into you, nestling it in the crook of your neck. “They call you the bloody queen, Alexia.” You remind her, and she shakes her head against you.  
“I hate that title.” She confesses. “I promise you, I’m still just me.” 
 
It’s hard to deny her that. When all of the noise has died out, and it’s only the two of you left. She is just her, she’s just another woman. A woman who is very clearly worrying about you and your reaction to her career. She knows that she stands to lose you because of it, and it’s very obvious, as her tears pool on your skin, that that isn’t something she wants to happen.   
Despite it still being ridiculously early days between you both, this connection that you feel so strongly, may very well be reciprocated by her, and it would be a shame, for a bit of football, to stand in the way of it.  
It’s terrifying, knowing that she can get hurt. Realising that everything she’s worked so hard her whole life for, rests on a knife’s edge, every time she steps foot onto the pitch. It isn’t easy, being made aware of how common of an injury it is, and how there’s no way of protecting her from it.   
If she’s going to get injured again, that’s just a harsh reality of football, and that’s a very difficult pill for you to swallow. It’s not a risk that you can stop her from taking, either. This is her dream, and you’d just have to support her through it. The good, and the bad.  
It’s also a little disconcerting, knowing how adored she is. The fact that she’s quite a bit famous, especially in this city, if nothing else. As much as you don’t want to let it seep into your mind, and affect your thoughts about Alexia too deeply, it’s impossible for it not to have altered things for you slightly.  
You’re only human, and you weren’t really fully prepped, on what her celebrity actually entailed. She was just another regular person to you yesterday, but in reality, she is clearly very far from that, and it’s a little unfair that she wasn’t the one to break the news to you. To give you some sort of heads up, before throwing you in at the deep end today.  
But ..you really were having fun, before it all went south. You were excited, you were proud, you were enjoying a football match. She does things to you. She brings out a side of yourself that you’ve never explored before, a side that’s laid dormant, for your entire life. She’s incredible, in ways that largely transcend her achievements on the pitch.   
Alexia’s never made you doubt yourself. She’s never given you any reason to question her interest in you, that’s one thing that she’s never been secretive about.  
She doesn’t know what you do for a living, but she probably correctly assumes that you’re not famous, and that hasn’t put her off at all. She doesn’t think she’s too good for you, she hasn’t treated you like you’re beneath her.  
Her fame doesn’t follow her everywhere, you were able to be completely oblivious to it, before your sister told you about it. It’s not debilitating, it doesn’t stop you from having moments together. It’s something you might have to get used to. Find a way of understanding it, learn how to cope with it. Especially on match days, when you really can’t ignore the actual magnitude of it. That wouldn’t be impossible for you to do.
  
There’s a connection between you both, it doesn’t matter how celebrated she is. You haven’t just shared a few careless kisses; it wasn’t just one night of meaningless sex. There’s something real between you both, and it already existed before you knew who she was. This madness that surrounds her, was always the reality; you were just unaware of it.  
There was a spark, regardless. You’d have the same connection with her if she was filling shelves in a supermarket, why should this be any different?  
She wasn’t put off by your lack of interest in football. She really wanted you here today. She gave you her shirt to wear. She told you she hoped you’d enjoy the game. There were tens of thousands of people in attendance this evening, and she searched for you, specifically.   
She deliberately put you in a contrasting shirt, so that she’d easily be able to find you, so that she’d definitely know that you came, and that you were here, watching her. That’s all she wanted. She just wanted you to see her play, and for you to have fun while doing it. She wanted you here, cheering her on. The best player in the world, and she's been choosing you. A little nobody from London.  
You’re allowed to be excited about that. You’re allowed to stop questioning her and second-guessing yourself. You don’t need to pay attention to the noise around you, the excited obsession with her from strangers, those distracting little seeds of doubt that he’s put into your head about yourself.  
There’s just her. There’s just Alexia, and she wanted you here.  
“Well ..just you,” you start softly, placing a kiss to the side of her head, “is a bloody lot more impressive than most people ..you were incredible out there.” You whisper shakily, and you can feel as she smiles against you, burying her head further into your neck.  
“You enjoyed it?” She breathes, and you can see a small bit of the weight that she’s bearing, lifting from her shoulders.   
“Until that moment. Yeah, I really did!” You tell her, smiling in mild disbelief at yourself. “I was worried, that I might have to pretend for you, but I just ..really loved watching you play, seeing you score!”  
“Were you quietly cheering?” She asks, pulling herself back from you, to excitedly take you in.   
“There was nothing quiet about it!” You admit with a grin, as you wipe away the streaks of tears on Alexia’s cheeks with the backs of your fingers. “You scored the winner!”  
The biggest smile spreads over her face at your bold act of tiny rebellion, and she pinches at the fabric of your shirt, gliding her fingers down the front of it, as she gives it a quick examination. “You were lucky they didn’t throw tomatoes at you, then!” 
“Mhmm! I did get a few words thrown at me, mind! There’s some horrible people about.” You tell her, as she continues holding onto your shirt. Her eyes meet yours and it’s a pair of nervous smiles that you exchange with each other. “I know it won’t mean much, coming from me. I’ve not watched a lot of football, and I know you have some pretty big awards for it, but ..you’re really bloody good! I’m so proud of you.”  
“It means everything.” She tells you ardently, pulling you into her over the railing. “I’m so glad you enjoyed it!”  
You let yourself get lost in her embrace for a moment, while she clings to the back of your shirt, and you can hear as her breath hitches when you place a quick kiss to her neck.  
“I really didn’t enjoy watching you get taken down, mind.” You reiterate, quietly.   
“No? I didn’t love that either, really.” She admits, chuckling to herself.  
“But you’re definitely okay?” You check again, pulling away from her to look properly at her leg.   
“Yes. I promise you. It’s fine, I’m fine. It just happens sometimes.” She shrugs.  
“Please don’t tell me that!” You beg, quickly shaking your head at her. “You can’t be putting me through that every match!”  
“Mm? You’ll be watching more games?” She asks, with that famous little smirk coming back into view as you nod your head at her.   
“I mean, it’s a bitch of a commute to do this weekly, but I’ll definitely be watching you on the telly, when I can’t make it.”  
“Wow.” She says, linking her arms together behind your neck. “You really did enjoy it.”  
“I know ..you’ve broken me!” You chuckle, as she rests her forehead to yours, and her lips are once again, the only thing you can focus on. You watch as she wets them in front of you, and it almost feels like she’s taunting you a little bit. “Are we allowed to kiss here?” You ask, trying to disguise your desperation, as you pull yourself away to scan the stadium.  
There’s only a few random stragglers making their exits up the steps, and none of them seem to be paying any attention to the pair of you at all. So, it might not be beyond the realms of possibility.  
Alexia takes your face in her hands and tilts your head. “Yes.” She tells you, simply, and she pulls you into her, capturing your lips with hers. She doesn’t do her own check of your surroundings at all; she really isn’t too fussed if anyone’s watching you both this time.  
It’s quite the romantic place to have a kiss, honestly. A huge colosseum, that’s almost entirely empty, a blanket of stars in the sky up above you. It’s not a kiss with any caution. It’s not hasty or secretive. It’s familiar, safe, and it’s able to finally be unreserved.   
It’s a kiss that the pair of you have been craving. One that doesn’t taste of tequila, that doesn’t have to be hidden from view, and one that doesn’t have the looming dread of immediate departure attached to it. It’s a slow deep kiss, that feels like home, and you’re quite content to drown yourself in it.  
“Where’s Em?” Alexia asks, and she really has ruined the moment.   
She seems unaware, as her lips are still moving against yours, but you freeze, breaking the kiss at her twisted choice of topic.  
“Woww?” You drag out, pulling back from her with a frown. “Mentioning my sister is a real mood-killer I do hope you realise!”  
“I’m sorry!” She giggles, trapping her bottom lip between her teeth.   
“You’re supposed to have come over here for me, not her!”  
“I did come over for you!” She tells you, rolling her eyes at your dramatics. “I just meant ..you’re here on your own.”  
“Mm. She left me.”  
“Why?”  
“She met a girl, while we were watching you play,” you explain, “they’ve gone back to hers already.”  
“Oh?” She questions, her eyes sparkling as she arches an eyebrow at you. “To play cards?”  
“Yeah,” you chuckle, “I think so.”  
She links her arms back over your shoulders, leaning in very close. “So ..you’re without company tonight?” She checks, her lips ghosting yours, and your heart starts racing again at the suggestive tone to her voice.   
“Mhmm. That’s quite sad, isn’t it? When I’m on holiday?”  
“That’s very sad.” She agrees, tracing your jawline with her index finger.  
It’s hard not to have a physical reaction to the way that she’s always touching you, and you swallow down as she angles your face to draw her mouth even closer to you, your breath catching in your throat as her lips brush against yours.  
“Are you short on company tonight?” You whisper, rather shakily.  
“Mhmm.”  
“Oof. That might be even sadder.” You point out, and she nods in agreement with a small pout, before finally succumbing to another long kiss.  
You breakaway, entirely short on breath, and she smiles as the obvious effect she’s just had on you as you try to come to your senses. “Do you ..not want to celebrate with your teammates?”  
“Not really.” She tells you, her pupils dilating as her eyes roam over your body.  
“Would you ..maybe, want to do something with me, then?” 
“Are you asking me on a date?” She asks, her cocky little smile curving her lips, and you chuckle despite yourself.   
“I really think I might be. You admit. “I don’t know what you’ve done to me!” You tell her, shaking your head with a smile. “I’d never looked at another woman before, never cared about a football result. Never asked someone out on a date.”  
“Mm? And now look at you.” She says, cradling your face as she searches your eyes. “Does it scare you?” She asks, stroking her thumb over your cheek, and you pause for a beat in consideration.  
“A little,” you confess, “but never when I’m with you.”  
Your candour earns you another kiss. Whether she’s fully aware of the power her lips have on calming your nerves, or she just fancied kissing you, you don’t really know, and you don’t really care. You welcome it the same way you’ve welcomed every other kiss from her, and the same way you’ll continue to welcome any future kisses from her, should you be so lucky.  
“Were you going to leave me?” Alexia asks after a moment, tapping at the sweatshirt again with a horrible look of uncertainty in her eyes.  
“I really don’t know.” You tell her honestly, and worry creases her brow, as you let out a breath. “I don’t think I’d have got very far,” you admit, “but it’s just ..been a lot to take in.”  
There’s a familiar look of understanding from her. It’s the exact same look she had given you when you’d stayed still in the hotel elevator, as she had made her exit. It’s a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes, that barely curves her lips. It’s a look of acceptance, resignation, and it’s a heartbreaking sight to see.   
“I don’t want to leave you.” You clarify. “I don’t really know ..what this is, between us, but I know how I feel about you, and I don’t want to run from it. I just know ..that you can probably do better.”  
You bop your own hand gently on the barrier in a fist, and she narrows her eyes at you. “What do you mean by that?” She asks, and you nibble at the inside of your mouth.   
“I freaked out ..when you went down. It got to me outside, seeing your name everywhere. I couldn’t ..really tell you what my sexuality is, at this point.” You take a breath, still knocking your fist awkwardly on the railing. “There’ll be so many other women, more sure of themselves, more ..prepared, and ready to embrace everything.” You explain, closing your eyes to stop them from stinging. “They won’t need to study your team before you play, they won’t go into a panic every time another player gets a little too close to you. They’ll be just as desperate to be with you, and they’ll be bett—”  
You’re cut off from your little ramble, with what you’re assuming was a kiss.  
Your eyes are closed, and it was unbelievably quick. You’d be forgiven for thinking you’d imagined it completely; it was really quite so fleeting. If the fireworks that Alexia’s set off on your lips weren’t quite so familiar to you, you might have thought it was a bee that had stung you. She’s really gone and left you all lightheaded with little more than a peck.  
“You kissed me!” You tell her breathlessly, as though she wasn’t the one to do it to you.  
“Mhmm. Imagine that.” She says, as she lets her eyes roam over your face with a small smile. “You studied the team?”  
“I know, I’m sorry.” You cringe. “I just didn’t want to not know who you played with. I mean, I didn’t even know who you were yesterday, what chance would I have had with any—”  
She kisses you again, the exact same way, leaving you with the exact same reaction.  
“You kissed me!” You repeat, and she chuckles at you, nodding her head.  
“Mhmm. You’re on vacation,” she reminds you, “and you spent the day studying my team?”  
“Mm.”  
“And you worried about me getting hurt?” 
“Mm.” 
“And you’re so desperately into me, that I’ve got you questioning your sexuality?” She winks.  
“I mean..” you chuckle softly, rolling your eyes, “..maybe.” 
“And you really think, that any of that ..would make me like you less?” She asks, narrowing her eyes with that familiar smirk.  
“Well ..sort of.” You admit. “I mean ..the studying. Most people wouldn’t need to do that.”  
“You didn’t need to do that.” She points out.  
“Mm ..no, I really think I did.” You chuckle. “I didn’t know anything about football this morning, you can ask Em.” 
“You don’t care about football.” She reminds you. 
“Maybe not ..but I care a little bit about you. I just knew it was important to you, I didn’t want to be completely clueless about it.” 
Alexia shakes her head at you lightly, before kissing you again. It’s not so quick this time, so you don’t need to be as embarrassed about her still leaving you lightheaded and short on breath.  
“You kissed me!” You repeat, a childish grin taking over your face, and she rests her forehead to your shoulder, chuckling at your excited little reaction. “So, you do still like me the same?” You double-check and she lifts her gaze to meet your eyes.  
She cradles your head in her hand, shaking her own lightly back at you as she rubs her thumb over your cheek. “I think I might like you even more.” She tells you. “I wasn’t really sure that would be possible after yesterday.”  
“Really?” 
“Mhmm.”  
“Well ..what else are you into? I can study anything.”  
She giggles at your eagerness before kissing you again. “I’m very into you.” She says, and your eyes light up in front of her.  
“That’s so unbelievably lucky, I know almost everything about her already!”  
“Yeah? Then maybe we’re perfect for each other.” She tells you, with a distinct conviction in her voice that sends that special little thrill running right through your body as she pulls you in for another kiss. 
 
“So ..is that a ‘yes’?” You ask. “To maybe going on a date with me? It’s a bit late now, I know, but we still have tomorrow.” You suggest, beginning to stumble over your words. “I know it’s probably not the smoothest way you’ve ever been asked out. I’m new to this. I’m not very good, but I’ll work on it. I’ll get better.” 
“I think you’re already better than you think you are.” She tells you softly, resting her forehead to yours. “I’d love to go on a date with you.” 
“Even though my head’s a mess and I’m still figuring things out?” 
“Mhmm.” She giggles, gently rolling her bottom lip under her teeth. “I’ll help you figure things out. We’ll work it all out together.” She offers.  
“That could be a lot of work.” 
“I know, and I really think you might be worth it.” She tells you, giving you another gentle kiss. “I’m sorry all of this got to you. I should have told you about it yesterday, but ..I didn’t want to scare you off.” She explains. “I know it can be a lot, I don’t love every part of it..” 
“It’s okay, I don’t think anything could’ve prepared me for it, really. I knew you’d have a lot of fans ..it was just seeing them all. Like this ..Alexia army.” 
“I’m so sorry.” 
“Please don’t be. You have nothing to apologise for.” You reassure her. “Not unless all those other buggers also got their shirts from you?” 
“No,” she chuckles, running her fingers up the front of the fabric on your body, “you’re the only one.” 
“I should probably feel quite special, then.” You wink. “People would kill to be wearing this.” 
“Mhmm. You are special.” She tells you, her fingers trailing the neckline of your shirt. She pulls you back into her, her lips feathering yours. “You’re in my top three for a reason.” 
The barrier’s proving to be a little bit of a pest to the pair of you, what with it being such a hindrance to all of your kissing. After receiving confirmation from Alexia, that no one would attack you for joining her on the grass, you throw her sweatshirt on over your head, and quickly negotiate the railing to be with her. 
It might be your favourite place to be, just melting into her arms as she holds you against her. Even though she’s still a little bit gross from running around for so long, you wouldn’t really swap it for anything.  
Your eyes flick around the stadium as you look over her shoulder. There’s a faded majesty to the arena when it’s empty like this. You’re the only ones still out here and the beauty of the place isn’t lost on you, as you get to share it with Alexia. It feels more special without thousands of other strangers crammed in here with you, it’s like a secret discovery you’ve both stumbled upon. A vast abandoned colosseum, existing just for you two.  
“Does it not freak you out, playing in a place like this?” You ask her. 
“Not really.” She tells you, rather casually, joining you in staring up at the stands.  
“There’s so many eyes watching you.” 
“Mm. You sort of just block it all out.” She says. “You can hear everything, all the chanting and singing, but you don’t really pay too much attention to it. Not until you score, and then again at the end of the game. It isn’t really scary at that point, though. Then it’s just thousands of other people celebrating with you.” 
“You’re quite amazing,” you realise, gently nudging into her, “I think I’d shit myself.” 
She giggles at your blunt confession, intertwining her hand with yours. “I’d probably freak out if I did that in front of everyone.” She admits, kissing your fingers. “That’d be quite hard to live down.” 
“Do you not get nervous at all?” 
“No.” She tells you, simply. “I’ve worked hard for this. I trust myself; I trust the team. Us playing in stadiums like this, in front of crowds like that, it’s what we deserve. It’s what we’ve been doing it all for.” She drops her head momentarily, taking in a breath. “I wasn’t too sure I’d get the chance to play again at all, after..” she gestures loosely down to her leg and stands a little taller as her grip on your hand tightens, “I don’t take it for granted, that I’m able to be here. It’s where I’ve always wanted to be. I’m not going to waste time being scared of it.” 
There’s a different air of confidence to her on the pitch as you watch her. It’s not the same playful cockiness that she so often uses with you. It’s not arrogance, she isn’t being smug. She’s just proud of herself, the journey that she’s been on. She’s proud of where she is, she’s proud of her teammates and she really has every bloody right to be.  
“Are you okay?” She asks, her brow crinkling lightly as she looks to you. “You’re staring.” 
“Sorry. You’re just ..very beautiful.” You shrug, and you can see a small flush of colour settle over her cheeks as she smiles before quickly averting her eyes.  
“You haven’t told me what it is that you do for a living.” She reminds you, shirking the focus away from her as she walks backwards a little ahead of you, pulling you along with her. “We had an agreement.” She reminds you.  
“I think it’s far less exciting than your big reveal.” You warn her. “I’m just in finance ..banking.”  
You offer it with a tone of apology to your voice, which she certainly picks up on as she smiles at you and takes your other hand in hers. “That’s very impressive.” She assures you and a blush spreads across your own cheeks as she interlaces her fingers with yours. “You’re quite clever?”  
“I’m not too bad with numbers.” You chuckle.  
“Do you enjoy it?” She asks, and you nod your head.  
“That must seem ridiculous to you.” 
“Not at all. Are you good at it?” 
“Oof ..I’m not awful.” You smile. “I’ve actually been named ‘Employee of the Year’ on more than two separate occasions.” 
“Have you really?” She giggles.  
“Mhmm. That’s the same as those balloon awards of yours, right?” 
“Mhmm. Yes. Yeah ..I think that’s the exact same thing.” 
She really must like you if she’s willing to lie like that. There is slight tone of sarcasm to her voice, and rightly so. Your sister’s explained to you what a Ballon d’Or is, and Alexia being presented with it, for two years on the trot, is no mean feat. She’s been recognised for being the undisputed best at her profession, globally. You’ve received ‘Employee of the Year’ bonuses because your boss is a filthy pervert with a crush on you. These are not the same things at all.  
It’s very sweet of her to downplay her achievements for you and there’s something about her lack of arrogance with her career that’s very intriguing. She almost minimises her own importance, ignores the significance, and the impact that she’s had on the sport. It’s really just a regular job to her. She’s ‘just’ a footballer.  
She takes genuine pride in it, but she’s not gloating at all, she’s not bragging. Without her fans around her, you really wouldn’t know how big of a sensation she actually is. The fame and accolades really aren’t what she’s done any of this for. She just loves playing the game.  
“You’re staring again.” She points out, kissing your forehead.  
“You’re ..still very beautiful.” You tell her, offering up another shrug in lieu of any better explanation for your continual admiration of her.  
She places a kiss to the back of your hand, and her eyes twinkle over it as she meets your gaze. “We should get out of here.” She tells you. “I need to have a shower, but then we can go.” 
“Do you want me to wait here?” You offer, and she frowns at you in confusion. “So that you don’t have to introduce me to anyone.” You explain, and she giggles, shaking her head.  
“A few of them would probably recognise you.” She says, and a hot flush of embarrassment spreads right through your body.   
“Shit! For being drunk and angry?” 
“Mhmm! And straight.” She reminds you with a wink. “I think they quite like you, don’t worry. Mapi’s definitely a fan already.” 
A small groan falls from your mouth as you remember your rather unfortunate behaviour from that night, and it’s hard not cringe at yourself. It’s amazing you made such a good impression on Alexia, all things considered, but it’s a bit embarrassing to realise there was more than one world-class footballer watching your drunken antics.  
“I’ll have to stay out here.” You grimace. “That’s horrific!” 
“They’re probably already gone!” She giggles. “We’ve been out here for a while.” She places another kiss to your forehead, before walking backwards towards the tunnel holding her hand out for you to join her. “Are you coming?” 
You nod your head at her but make no real effort to move from where you are. “I never thanked you.” You call out to her, and she stills herself, tilting her head.  
“For what?” She chuckles, narrowing her eyes.  
“For saving me that night. From that old man ..I really don’t know where I’d be now if you hadn’t.” 
A grin splits her face, and she doesn’t miss a beat. “Therapy, probably!” She says, and her laugh echoes in the air around you.  
You quickly pull her sweatshirt back up to hide your face under it, shaking your head in shame, because she’s almost certainly right. It would have taken you a very long time to recover from waking up next to him the following morning. You definitely wouldn’t have been going for seconds, thirds and fourths with him all night. He’d have had a heart attack trying to compete with Alexia’s stamina.  
“He was so gross.” She reminds you, pulling the sweatshirt down as she returns to you. “You were very drunk.” 
She pushes the loose hairs back from over your face, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips as she cups your face.  
“I don’t remember you helping me with that.” You point out. “I had more drinks with you than anyone else.” 
“Mm ..I quite liked being inappropriate with you. You were very daring,” she recollects, kissing you again, with her cocky little smile, “you’d already licked most of me before we even left the club!” 
“You started it!” You remind her, and she giggles in front of you.  
“Well, if that was a competition we were having, I think you certainly won!” She admits. “I’m sure abuelo would have enjoyed drinking with you just as much.” 
“Oof. Please don’t.” You mutter, suppressing a gag. “I think I’d have slapped him if he’d tried licking me.” 
Alexia laughs again, lifting your hand to her lips, to place a kiss to the back of it, and she winks at you, before she licks all down it with her tongue.   
“You’re such a child!” You giggle, wiping your hand against your shirt, and she winks at you again. “You could’ve been here with that girl from the toilets.” You point out. “At least she was very pretty.” 
“I know.” She sighs wistfully. “It’s a shame someone stole me from her.” 
“Mmm ..okay.” You mutter, rolling your eyes.  
She shakes her head with a small smirk, taking your hand and pulling you into her before wrapping her arms around your waist. “I’m glad I’m here with you.” She tells you, lightly bumping her nose to yours. “Bit scary of you, though. Following me all the way out here!” 
“I didn’t follow you!” You tell her, removing yourself from her hold. “I barely even remembered you existed before you draped your arm over me in that café.” 
“You’re a terrible liar.” She scoffs. “You even followed us into that toilet.” 
“No, I didn’t!” You chuckle, crossing your arms in front of you as you smile up at her. “You followed me, though. Couldn’t keep you away!” 
“Mm ..maybe I really should’ve stayed with her instead.” 
“Okaay, that’s enough of that. She’s gone now, you missed your chance with her!" 
“Are you still jealous?” She winks, running her hands down your sides before slinking them back around your waist.  
“I wasn’t jealous. She was just ..all over you. In the toilet, of all places! It was very gross of you both, very unsanitary.” 
“Is that why you wanted to interrupt us?” She smirks, tilting her head very close to yours. “Bumped into me to stop me from catching germs? You’re very cute.” 
“That was an accident.” 
“You’re a terrible liar!” She laughs.  
“You were winding me up! Kissing someone else, what were you playing at?” 
“You went to go kiss men!” She points out.  
“I didn’t kiss any of them, though.” 
“It’s not my fault you were unsuccessful!” 
“I wasn’t unsuccessful!” You giggle, pushing her away from you. “I didn’t want to kiss any of them. I had one person on my mind that night, and I was actually very successful in getting her to kiss me ..eventually.” 
“I was on your mind?” She asks, bouncing her eyebrows as she rests her hands on your hips.  
“You’re so annoying, always so cocky.” You roll your eyes, linking your hands behind her neck before pulling her down to kiss you. “Yes. You were on my mind.” You admit, collapsing your head to her chest. “You’re always on my mind. You’re like a bloody broken record in here.” 
She kisses the top of your head, wrapping her arms around your shoulders. “You’re always on my mind too.” She whispers. “I don’t think I’ve really stopped thinking about you at all since I first saw you in that club.” 
“When you shoved that bloody lime in my face?” You mumble against her.  
“I didn’t shove a lime in your face!” She laughs. “I held it for you, I was being helpful.” 
“Mm ..well, then I owe you two lots of thanks.” You realise, lifting your head to meet her eyes. “One for your ..handy little lime assistance, and one for saving me from that ancient creeper. I am genuinely grateful for the second one.” 
“You don’t need to thank me for either of them.” She tells you. “I was being selfish really.” 
It’s difficult to know just how much time you both managed to kill outside, but the dressing room’s completely empty by the time you two make your way through to it. You sit, patting your hands against your thighs, as Alexia goes for her shower, and you try to keep yourself entertained without her.  
There’s a lot of things for you to look at in the room, lots to take in. There’s a history to the stadium, which should be interesting to have a backstage pass to. It’s a privilege, being in here. Legends have roamed these halls, sporting greats from decades past. It’s very exciting for you to be granted access to it, and yet, none of it’s at all fascinating to you when you know there’s a wet, naked lady in the other room.  
You continue drumming out your frustrations as you try to stop yourself from thinking of Alexia in the shower.  
All on her own. In the shower.   
Alone.  
Showering.  
You really just can’t help yourself.  
She doesn’t take too long to return to you and a loud gasp falls from your lips when she re-emerges.  
“¿Qué?” She winks, and the blush doesn’t even have the courtesy of creeping up on you, you’re just immediately bright red.  
“You’re naked.” You inform her, very quietly, in case she hadn’t already realised. 
“Mhmm.” 
“Wow..” You breathe, gritting your teeth as you try to remain calm.
“Oh? That’s so funny. I seem to remember that being the exact same reaction to the one you had last time!” 
“Heh heh heh!” You draw out slowly, rolling your eyes at her unremitting need to be cocky.  
She leans against the wall in front of you, and it really isn’t very easy to maintain eye contact with her when her body’s on full display in front of you. It doesn’t feel like she’s particularly bothered about your wandering eyes, which is really rather lucky, because you’re not exactly doing it with any level of subtlety.  
This isn’t really helping in keeping all of the dirty thoughts that you’ve been having about her at bay. You’re also going to split your lip open if you keep biting down on it as hard as you are. 
She moves towards you steadily, and your heart starts beating in double time. “You’re staring.” She tells you, yet again, and you nod at her very astute observation skills.  
“You ..are ridiculously beautiful.” You point out, struggling to keep your composure as she steps within reaching distance. “You’re also very dry.” You realise with a frown, trapping your hands under your legs. “You’re supposed to be having a shower so that we can get the hell out of here!” 
“Mm.” She hums, hooking a finger under your chin and tilting your head up to face her. “I was wondering if you might want to keep me company?” She says, and you have to gasp again at her very friendly little suggestion.  
“In the shower with you? While you’re naked?” You grin, and she chuckles, nodding her head.  
“Mhmm. I was hoping you might want to get naked too.” 
“Oof. What an incredibly tempting offer.” You admit, bobbing your legs as you wet your lips. “I just need a few minutes to really think about it.” 
“Mm?” She shakes her head and folds her arms. “You have two seconds before I’m revoking.” 
“Two seconds? Do you see what I mean about you being cocky and annoying? You think I fancy you that badly? That I’m that desperate and needy that I’ll just cave as soon as you—” 
“Uno.” 
“I’m in!” You exclaim, jumping to your feet with embarrassing haste. “I’m in I’m in I’m in I’m in I’m in!” You continue mumbling against her lips to make sure that she doesn’t start her unnecessary counting again.  
You make very light work of pulling both layers off over your head in one swift motion, and Alexia looks rather impressed with your efficiency as she drags her thumb down the middle of your torso. She bites her lip with her eyebrow arching slightly, as she takes you in, and you do feel a little bit proud of yourself.  
“I’ve been going to the gym a lot.” You tell her, tensing slightly to show off your progress.  
“I can tell.” She says, running her thumb back up your stomach.  
“Really?” You grin, trying to ignore the goosebumps that have spread over your skin from her touch. “I slept with this girl whose body made me drool.” You admit, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “Felt like I was letting the side down a bit, so.” 
“I think you’re beautiful naked.” She tells you, and your heart skips a beat as her eyes darken over you.  
“That’s very crazy! That’s the same thing that she kept saying!” 
“Mm?” She loops a finger through your belt buckle, drawing you in closer to her.  
“It does turn out that she’s a professional athlete, though. So, I might have to just settle for being second best.” 
She chuckles at you, shaking her head. “All this ..is for her benefit?” She asks, leaning into you.  
“Mm. Well ..I wasn’t really sure I’d ever find her again,” you admit, letting out a very cautious exhale, “..but no one else has seen me..”
 
It’s a pointed confession from you, carrying a lot of added weight to it. Neither of you owe each other any loyalty from that night and you’d have no real right to be hurt, if she has explored other options. It’s not a test from you, you know it wouldn’t really change things, you did give it a try yourself, to be with someone else.  
It didn’t feel right to you, when it wasn’t with her, you could barely even flirt with another person, but you can’t really have any negative reaction, if Alexia hasn’t had that same struggle. There’s a morbid curiosity in you, perhaps, given the direction your previous relationship went in, and you can only hope, that she will treat your heart more gently than he did.  
She doesn’t know, that you were cheated on, she wouldn’t know, what her own admission would mean to you. You’re offering yourself up unprotected, to a woman who isn’t aware of the bomb she could be setting off inside your chest. It’s a silent plea from you, that this really has been as all-consuming to her, as it has been to you, and it’s very a big ask of someone, who you’ve only met thrice.  
Her eyes pierce through to your soul, as she studies you, and it’s excruciating, waiting for her to give you something. There’s a clear caution in her, of what she’s about to tell you, and you’re not certain if it’s guilt, or sympathy, or something else entirely.  
“Really?” She asks, and her voice is hoarse, as her eyes narrow at you. You can’t trust yourself with words right now, so you only offer her a silent nod, and there’s a glimmer in her eyes at your promise. She’s tentative, and nervous, and the mystery that once shielded her eyes when you first looked into them, is slowly dissolving in front of you. It isn’t guilt or sympathy that she’s feeling, she’s scared of letting you in.  
It’s not unreasonable for her to have her own concerns, regarding you. You were incredibly pig-headed, about being straight, the night that you first met. You told her your relationship had ended only recently, and then you jumped straight into bed with her.  
She can be certain that you’re attracted to her, you haven’t hidden that very well, but she has no real reason to assume that she isn’t a rebound, or a little sexuality test for you. You’re not the only one putting yourself in a vulnerable position here, she also stands to get hurt from this.  
There’s the slightest hint of a smile on her face, as she accepts that you’re telling her the truth. The subtle confession, that the girl who was so relentlessly hunting for some random male company the night that Alexia first met her, hasn’t been on that same hunt since, clearly means as much to her, as a similar confession would mean to you.  
“I haven’t been with anyone else either.” She tells you, and it breathes life back into your lungs.  
You catch her entirely off guard as you press your lips against hers, but she’s very quick to catch up with you. There’s a distinct desperation in the kiss this time, a fervent hunger. An intense desire to make known how much she means to you, to show her that the small question mark that you have over your sexuality, doesn’t extend to any questions about her. You’re in no doubt of your feelings, you’re very certain of what you want.  
Actions speak louder than words, clearly, and you’re definitely not leaving anything up to speculation. The passion in you continues to build and it’s Alexia who’s left breathless, when you finally pull away. You’ve rendered her speechless, and she blinks hard a few times as she lifts her fingers to her lips, before collecting herself again.  
You’re sporting her smirk as she looks back at you, and she rolls her eyes with a shy smile. “Are you getting naked, or what?” She asks impatiently, and a laugh rings out from inside of you.  
“Oof. I love when you’re romantic with me, baby.” 
This might actually be your favourite place to be. Not the random shower stalls, they’re not particularly important to the rush that’s shooting through you. It’s entirely down to the wet and naked company that you have in here.  
Reacquainting yourself with the curves and the ridges of her body, having her pressed up against you as her hands explore yours. It’s exciting just being back with her, your body’s on fire under her touch, your soul’s been reawakened, and none of the scenarios you kept playing through in your head, could ever really compare to having the real thing in front of you again.  
“Is your leg still sore?” You ask, placing kisses along Alexia’s jawline as she leans her back against the tiles.  
“I’ve already told you, that it’s fi—“ 
“Because I was thinking,” you interrupt, cutting her off with a kiss to her lips, “we should probably take some precautions.” You suggest, and her eyes narrow as she smiles slyly at you. “We wouldn’t want to aggravate it..” 
“Mm.” She nods, trapping her tongue between her teeth. “Are you offering to get down on your knees for me?” She asks you knowingly, tangling her fingers in your hair.  
“Mhmm ..for the good of the team.” You offer, feigning herosim as you kiss along her chest. “For football.” 
“Mm ..well, I did score the winning goal.” She reminds you.  
“Well, exactly, and that deserves to be celebrated.” 
She chuckles, as she pulls you back into her by your neck, catching you a little off guard as her tongue re-enters your mouth. “I really have missed you.” She murmurs against your lips.  
“Mm but like ..as a person,” you check, pulling back slightly, “not just my bloody tongue?” You pout softly up at her as she giggles with a nod. “Because I’m quite nice company for you to have around ..I’m very cute and funny.” 
“You’re adorable and hilarious.” She agrees, running a finger up the middle of your torso. It sends goosebumps all along your body again, which she’s acutely aware of as that smirk is very much back on her face.  
“But in like a sexy way.” You tell her, trying to ignore the heat she’s sent through you, and she continues to nod her head as she bites her lip. “Like a ..'I should take that girl home with me and do dirty things to her' kind of way."
“Is that what you’d like me to do to you?” She asks, with her eyebrow arching.  
“After our shower ..yes please.” 
“Okay.” She promises, tangling her fingers even further as she kisses you. “Then drop to your knees.” She instructs you, and much like a loyal little soldier, you’re very quick to do as you’re told.  
She’s never really been quite so assertive with you, and a mild moan escapes you from it, as you traverse down her body, leaving a trail of kisses as you make your descent. She tightens her grip on you as she tilts your head to look back up at her, sending a dull pleasure running through you, before she guides you to the place where she’s wanting you most.  
It ends up being one of the longest showers of your life, and you’re lucky to be leaving the stadium together before you both get locked inside of it.  
Discussion turns to sleeping arrangements as you walk the length of the parking lot. Neither of you have any intentions of going home without the other, despite the lateness of the hour, and it feels like there’s an obvious choice for where you’ll end up staying. The hotel isn’t the best place for you tonight. The receptionist would undoubtedly recognise the company you’re keeping, and despite Em being out for the night, she isn’t exactly known for hanging around with her lady-friends the morning after.  
You don’t really want to have to kick Alexia out super early, and Em catching the pair of you tangled up in bed together when she gets back, also doesn’t sound ideal.  
“Are you scared of dogs?” Alexia asks as she opens her car door for you.  
“No..” 
“Then we’ll go back to mine.” 
“You told me Nala was a Pomeranian?” 
“She is.” 
“Well ..then even if I was scared of dogs, I probably wouldn’t be afraid of her.” You giggle, placing a kiss to her temple before getting into your seat.  
“I was just checking.” She tells you as she joins you in the car.  
“Is she unfriendly?” 
“No, she is a very good judge of character, though.” She warns, with a smile that’s mildly disconcerting.  
“Oh ..so it’s a red flag if she takes a disliking to me?” 
“Mhmm. I’d have to kick you out!” 
It doesn’t feel like a fully-fledged threat from her, but there is a tone to her voice, that tells you she’s not completely joking either.
She starts up her car and rests her hand on your leg as she sets off from the stadium. Her fingers trace circles on the inside of your thigh and you have to link her hand with yours as she starts trailing up, to stop her from doing too much when the goosebumps quickly form along your skin. 
“I’m sorry,” she offers, “you don’t like it?” 
“I might like it a bit too much.” You chuckle, placing a kiss to the back of her hand, before placing it back in your lap.  
It’s hard to stop your eyes from drooping a little in the car, you really are very exhausted. You rest your head against your seatbelt and dig the nails of your free hand into your leg to try and stop you from falling asleep. You have limited time with Alexia as it is, and you don’t want to miss out on any precious minutes.  
There’s something unfortunately hypnotic about the glow from the streetlamps above you, though, which isn’t super helpful with your plight. The light pulses through the windows as Alexia drives, and you give your head a shake when you find your eyelids getting too heavy.  
“Are you okay?” She asks, a little alarmed at your sudden spasm.  
“Mhmm.” You mumble, stifling a yawn. “I really need you to keep talking to me, please. I don’t want to fall asleep.” 
“What do you want to talk about?” 
“Anything.” 
She stares out at the road in front of her, losing herself in thought for a moment. She raises your hand to her lips to place a lingering kiss to your fingers, and she bops her other hand on the steering wheel.  
“I asked after your initial.” She tells you whimsically, and your face scrunches, not at all following what she means.  
It was a very weird thing for her to say to you, it’s not entirely down to your sleepiness that you didn’t understand.  
“Sorry?” You ask, and her grip on your hand tightens. 
“I was back in London last week ..I went back to that club.” She reveals, and your heart misses a beat as she speaks. “I was hoping, maybe you’d be in there again ..looking for a man.” She rolls her eyes and drums her fingers over the wheel. “I was worried ..that you might have already found one, when you weren’t there.” You place another kiss to the back of her hand, and her fingers twitch as they link through yours. “I think we made a big impression on that bartender.” She giggles.   
“Bless him. We really did put on quite the show.” 
“Mhmm! He was there again, when I went. I asked him about you, and he said he definitely remembered us, but he told me he really had no idea who you were.” A sigh escapes her lips, and she taps at the steering wheel again. “I couldn’t stay in there for very long.” She admits. “It gave me a headache. It was bad enough being in the same hotel. I did have a roommate this time, so ..we really did end up playing cards together, but ..I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Knowing you had to be near, but I’d never be able to find you.” 
“I could’ve gone to that game.” You tell her thoughtfully. You stroke your thumb along the side of her index finger and clench your jaw. “Em invited me, and I told her to bore off.” You explain. “If I’d have had any idea ..I’d have been front row for you. I hate that we missed out on time together.” 
“We’re together now.” She points out quickly.  
“Only until tomorrow night ..then we’re right back where we started.” 
“Not really.” She assures you, giving your hand a squeeze. “We know who we are now. We know where we are, we’ll swap numbers.” 
“And we’ll what, make a proper go of it? With all of these miles between us?” 
Her jaw tightens slightly as she continues staring out in front of her. “If you also want to.” She says softly.  
“I’ve never really loved the idea of doing long-distance.” 
“You don’t think it works?” She asks you, and her voice cracks slightly.  
“I know that it can. It’s just ..not ideal.” You sigh.  
“You’d miss me too much?” She smirks, and you shake your head with a small smile.  
“Maybe.” You admit. “Why’d you have to be bloody Spanish?” 
“You’d prefer me to come from London?” 
“Yes! I mean ..you wouldn’t sound as lovely, but at least you’d be local.” You point out. “It’d be far easier.” 
“Mm.” She mumbles. “Well ..you could have been from Barcelona, that would’ve been helpful.” She pulls the car up outside of her home, and you stare out at it through the window. “Come on.” She tells you, patting your thigh as she opens her door. “We won’t have to worry about any of this if Nala doesn’t like you!” 
Alexia greets you at your side of the car and takes your hand as she leads you to the door. “¡Buena suerte!” She whispers, and you’re not 100% sure what it means, as she gives you a very dramatic look of dread before she pushes through the entrance. 
It feels like she’s really trying to worry you, but it would be very harsh to send you back to your hotel with your tail between your legs because her dog’s barked at a stranger. You’re not exactly Dr Dolittle but are you a fan of animals, and you’d be quite upset yourself if Nala didn’t take a liking to you.  
You’re attacked, as soon as you step through the door. It’s not an uncontrolled ravaging that you receive, Nala certainly isn’t rabid. It’s a very excitable licking that you’re greeted with, it would seem that dogs really are like their owners. It really isn’t the big and scary personality test that Alexia likes to pretend it is at all, but she might have already known it wasn’t going to be a dealbreaker when she pushed you into the house with this vicious scary animal before her.  
“Well, shit.” She sighs, looking down at you as you play with her dog on the floor, and the rare expletive from her mouth rings very cutely in your ears.  
“What?” You giggle, craning your neck to meet her gaze.  
“Now we might have to worry about it.” 
You lift Nala into your arms and rise to your feet. A toothy smile spreads across your face as you move towards Alexia, and there’s a lot of affection for you being carried in her eyes.  
“She quite likes me.” You point out, and Alexia nods her head, trapping her bottom lip between her teeth. “And she doesn’t even know what I’m saying to her.” You place a kiss to the top of Nala’s head. “You might have to teach me some Spanish ..so we can have a proper conversation.” You tell her, bobbing Nala in your arms as you bury your face in her fur. “It’d make my trips out here a bit easier too.” 
Alexia’s eyes widen slightly at your casual words of intent, and she beams at you as you give her dog another kiss. “You do want to give us a go?” She asks.  
“Mhmm. I think I’d be crazy not to.” 
“It could be a lot of work.” She tells you, and you nod, smiling up her. 
“I know ..and I really think you might be worth it.” 
A full smile takes over her face as she quickly takes Nala from your arms and places her back down on the floor, before giving you a quick kiss. She pulls you through with her to let Nala do her business outside, and something shiny on the wall draws your eye. 
“These are all your trophies?”  
“..Some of them.” 
“Blimey!” You chuckle, as you move closer to them all. You keep a small distance, crossing your arms to make sure you don’t accidentally knock anything, and you study one, in particular, that’s caught your attention. “You made my sister cry, when you got this one.” You tell her, pointing to her World Cup medal. “I thought something terrible had happened when she rang me.” 
“I’ll have to apologise to her," she winks, “when we meet.” 
“Mm. You’ll have to apologise for today’s match, too.” You point out with a grin. “You’ve ruined her life a few times, I think.” 
Nala makes her way back inside, brushing against your legs as she scurries off to who knows where, and a finger tapping at your shoulder, distracts you from your perusal of Alexia’s trophy cabinet. She smiles as you turn to face her, and she runs her finger down your nose before giving you a quick kiss. 
“Oh my god!” Escapes your lips in a breathy giggle as Alexia lifts you into her arms and you wrap your legs around her waist. “Hi.” 
“Hi!”  
It’s a passionate kiss that she gives you, and any sense of tiredness that was taking over your body a few minutes ago, is very quickly forgotten as you lose yourself in her.
“I can walk.” You remind her, as she carries you towards her bedroom. 
“I don’t care.” 
You’re almost winded when your back hits the mattress, as she flings you onto it, a little carelessly. You’d probably be more stroppy about it, if she didn’t pull her shirt off before joining you on the bed. She didn’t bother putting a bra on after your shower and you’re very easily distracted.  
It is her actual eyes you find yourself fascinated by this time, though. They really are very beautiful, and there’s far less mystery lingering in them now. It’s tenderness you see in them as she looks over you, silent intimacy, devotion, and the idea of eyes being the window to the soul has never seemed more true to you.  
There’s an honesty in her eyes that far exceeds any words she could ever say to you, but you’re fairly sure you know what she’s thinking. You’re almost certain, in fact, and you feel compelled to confess something to her yourself. 
“You. are. staring. again.” She tells you, punctuating each word with an increasingly deeper kiss.  
“Mhmm.” You concede, and your hands rest on her hips as she smiles down at you. You swallow down carefully as your eyes meet hers, and your heart skips a few more beats. “I really think ..that I might be falling for you.” You profess, and her pupils dilate as she smiles down at you. “Is that ridiculous? To fall for someone so quickly?” 
“I don’t think so.” She says, her brow furrowing slightly. “Sometimes you just know.” 
“Would it be okay ..if I did start falling?” 
“Mhmm.” She runs her finger under your chin, rubbing her thumb over your bottom lip, before leaning herself down over you. “I’m falling for you, too.” She tells you, before pulling you into her by your neck.  
It’s different, from the sex you’ve had with other people before, being with Alexia. It never seems to be quick, and it doesn’t feel one-sided. You’re not left wanting after it, it isn’t unfulfilling. There's a continual desperate desire in you, to have her be with you, and to make sure that she’s also feeling good. It’s not a chore, and it isn’t something that she’s demanding from you.  
There’s passion between you, affection, and it’s an equal offering from you both. It’s exciting, it’s fun, and it puts all your past experiences to shame. There’s an innocence in your enjoyment of each other, it really isn’t just a physical act between the two of you. It’s a bearing of your soul to each other, every time, and it’s no wonder at all, that you’re falling as quickly as you are. 
There’s far more confidence in you now. You’re not having to follow Alexia’s lead quite so much. You know her body, what she likes you doing to it, and you savour every second of having her back under you. Every whimper and moan that you’re able to coax from her, how she feels around you, the taste of her on your tongue. Having her able to cry out your actual name this evening, has also set your soul on fire. Hearing it echo around in the showers, having her moan it like a quiet secret into your ear, as she grips at the sheets beneath her. 
Alexia does have you entirely at her mercy when she chooses to take back control, and whether she really did appreciate you being so selfless by caring about her injury in the shower, or the fact that Nala took to you quite so quickly, you can’t be certain, but you’ve definitely done something to have her wanting to treat you extra nicely, before you remind her that she doesn’t need to be quite so gentle with you.  
This isn’t your first time; you’re very much wanting her to have her wicked way with you. 
It satisfies the burning inside of you, completely, satiating your hunger, and happily leaving you a little worn out after everything. She’s in a similar state of exhaustion, panting when she collapses back down onto you. So, you can probably give yourself a little pat on the back for your own efforts with her.  
“Are you okay?” She checks with you, as you try to steady your breathing. She places a kiss to your neck in such a way, that you know she’s leaving another mark that you’ll need to cover up, and you run your fingers down her sides.   
“Mhmm ..I think you’ve wiped me out.” You admit, lazily kissing along her shoulder.   
“I think you’ve done the same!” She tells you, chuckling, as she rubs her thumb over your neck, admiring the new bruise that she’s decorated you with.  
She watches over you for a moment, and you raise your fingers to your face.  
“Do I have something on me?” 
“No..” 
“Well ..now you’re staring.” 
“Mhmm.”  
“Are you okay?” 
“Do you want children?” She asks you, rather abruptly, and you have to chuckle at the timing of her question.  
“What?” 
“Children.” She repeats.  
“..I don’t know what the Spanish education system has taught you, Ale ..but what we just did to each other ..isn’t resulting in any babies.” 
“Idiota,” she chuckles, “but do you want them?” 
“I don’t want you to go out stealing any.” 
“Y/N!” She giggles, holding herself up over you. “I’m being serious.” 
She shakes her head at you, and you grin up at her. “I think I do, yeah. Eventually, with the right person.” 
A faint smile spreads over her face and she leans down for a kiss.  
“Do you?” You question, and she nods her head, before kissing you again.  
“Two.” She tells you. “One of each. A girl first.” 
“I’ve always thought I’d have a girl first.” You admit. “Though ..I figured I’d just have two girls ..a little boy would be cute.” 
“Mhmm!” She hums against you, linking her hands with yours as she pushes herself back up.  
“That's a very intense question,” you point out, “before we’ve even been on our first date. I should be running for the hills.” 
“Do you want to?” 
“No,” you admit, “but you’ve got me picturing a family with you, and we’ve only hung out three times!” 
“Is that what we’re doing?” She questions with a smile. “We’re hanging out?” 
“What would you call it?” You ask her, and her eyes glitter above you.  
“I don’t know,” she says, “but I don’t hang out with anyone else like this.” 
“That’s a relief!” You chuckle, and she bites her lip as she shakes her head again.
“I think I want to be doing more than just hanging out with you.” She tells you, and a small smirk pulls at your lips.  
“Well ..if our date goes well tomorrow, and we keep agreeing to meet up and go out with each other. Then ..we’d probably be dating.” 
“Would that scare you, dating a woman?” 
“Not when the woman’s you. I don’t think I’d ever shut up bragging about it.” 
“That’s a lot of pressure on you, then.” She points out with a smile. “To make sure our first date goes well.” 
“I know, and I don’t know Barcelona very well.” You remind her. “I wouldn’t know where I can take you, where you won’t get papped.” 
She nods in understanding and leans down for a kiss. “Then, will you go on a date with me?” She asks, with a very knowing smile. “I can arrange our Barcelona dates, if you sort the ones in London.” 
She holds out her pinky in front of you, for you to solidify your promise with her, and you place a kiss to your linked fingers, before losing yourself in her eyes again. “Deal.” You tell her softly, and a thrill flows right through your body as she collapses back down onto you.  
It stirs in your head, as you realise that this is what it should actually feel like to be with someone. An excitement inside of you when you know you’re about to see them. A constant wish to be near to them, a genuine enjoyment of their company. A want to share your life with them, to talk about a future together without a sense of fear, or dread about it.  
It’s what you could have gone on to miss out on, for your whole life, without her.  
There’s a comfort in you, when you’re with her, a lazy pleasure in having her body resting on top of yours. The way her fingers trace over your every curve, how her lips light tiny fires on your skin. Each caressing touch from her is one that you crave. Every kiss, the way she laughs. Her relentless teasing, her continual cockiness.  
It’s all something you want no other person to be lucky enough to experience the way that you’ve been able to. It’s all what combines together to make up Alexia. You want her, completely. Body and soul.
And it hits you, like a hammer to the chest. 
You’re already in love with this woman.  
“Are you okay?” She asks. “Your heart’s beating very quickly.” 
“Mhmm ..I’m fine.” 
She props herself up on her elbows over you and tilts her head with a raised eyebrow. 
“I’m a terrible liar?” You realise, and she softly nods her head. 
“You can talk to me.”  
“I know, I just ..I’m just going to miss you, after tomorrow.” 
“We can’t do that to ourselves.” She tells you quickly. “We still have the whole day to spend together.” 
“I know, I just—” 
She mutes you with a kiss and shakes her head. “No.” She says. “We’re not doing that. We can worry about it later. I’m taking you out tomorrow. You can’t go into our first date feeling miserable, the rest of our dates rest on the success of this one. You go into this date worrying about saying goodbye, we’ll never have any other da—” 
You cut her off this time.
It seemed like she was really about to start spiralling almost as pathetically as you have been doing all day. What a pair of losers you are together. Maybe you are perfect for each other. 
“Okay.” You tell her, nodding as you wipe a tear from the corner of her eye. “Okay, I’m sorry.” 
“We have one more day together,” she whispers, “we’re not wasting it being sad.” 
It’s an unfortunate curiosity, that sleep has been so hard for you to come by when you’ve been so desperate for it, and now, it’s threatening to steal you away when you fancy nothing more than staying awake forever. You don’t want to go to sleep, but a yawn that you’re not quite quick enough to stifle, lets Alexia know that you’re struggling a little to stay up with her.  
“Shit.” You mutter, throwing your arm over your face. “You caught that didn’t you?” 
“Mhmm. You can go to sleep.” She assures you, but you shake your head with a petulant pout.  
“I’m not tired.” You tell her, and she giggles, placing a kiss to your forehead before rolling off the side of you.  
“You really are a terrible liar.” She says, opening her arms to welcome you into her, and you don’t waste much time nestling yourself in her embrace.  
“I don’t want to sleep.” You admit to her chest, and she runs her fingers through your hair. “Not while I’m with you.” 
“I’ll still be here when you wake up.” 
“You’d better be.” You tell her. 
She throws her leg over your hip, drawing you in even closer to her, and you run your fingers up her thigh. 
“Are you quite comfy?”
“Mhmm! I’m not having you roll away from me again in the morning.” 
“I really wouldn’t want to.” You murmur, placing a kiss to her chest, as you snuggle closer against her.  
“Well, now you can’t!” She tells you. “I have very strong legs.” 
“I know, you do.” You chuckle sleepily. “I’ve had them clamped around my head a few times.” 
Another small yawn escapes you as you close your eyes, finally accepting defeat, and you place another lazy kiss to her chest as you begin drifting off.  
“Te quiero, Y/N.” Alexia whispers. “Dulces sueños.” 
“You sound really very lovely ..and I’m really bloody sorry ..but I don’t know what you’re saying to me.” You remind her, and you can feel her nodding her head gently. 
“Sweet dreams.” She translates, tightening her arms around you, as you struggle to stifle yet another little yawn.  
“Sweet dreams, Ale.” You manage to mumble in reply, before sleep fully consumes you, and you’re finally able to rest.
849 notes · View notes
alphabetboyluvr · 9 months
Text
landslides - 001 | goldrush - jjk
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part title credit: goldrush - taylor swift
everybody wonders what it would be like to love you... i can't dare to dream about you anymore... it never will be...
pairing: officeworker!jungkook x female reader (coworkers)
premise: jungkook asks you to dog sit over chuseok. he doesn't ask you to steal the empty spaces in his head, the dreams he's yet to have, nor the idea of you always just being 'you' to him - and yet, like a thief in the night (with his own damn dog as your accomplice), you do.
warnings: fluff more than angst, but it's not clean cut - there's also a touch of smut. office worker jk, fuck boy (but kind!) jk, mentions of his workplace escapades, oc is dating mingyu (yay), oc sorta fancies jk (boo), solo masturbation (m), vivid thoughts of shagging (jk is a perv! wow! unlike me to write him as randy bastard!), lots of facetime calls, oc and jk are fundamentally flawed as a pairing, genuine friendship, daddy kink? ig? but like kinda sweet?, jungkook has a complex brain house and you've been banished to his annexe!! he also has a thing for claw clipped hair lol
wordcount: 6.8K
note from holly: so... i dogsat (? idk if thats a word) for my friend last chuseok and this was the result hahahaha. my friends dog (boba <3) is so tiny and small!! but i've always been a big dog girlie so bam was fun to write. i really love this one and have recently found all of my old notes from around that time detailing the rest of the couples lives, so pt. 2 is in progress.
minors dni // cross posted to wattpad
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Bam notices the storm roll in before you do. His ears twitch, head lifting from its rested perch on his paws.
“What’s up, baby? Hey?” You coo, his sudden shift obviously prompted by something. His snout begins to twitch, too, and his bottom lip shakes as a small growl vibrates from his throat. His eyes are on the window, stalking the clouds as they roll past. “Hey.”
You sit up a little straighter to lean forward and scratch behind his ear. He leans into it, but doesn’t take his eyes away from the sky.
“You see the rain, huh?” You hum, looking between the pup and the window ahead. You can’t place it yet - it’s too far in the distance - but you find yourself coming to sit beside him. He doesn’t lean up against you like he usually does. Just continues to lightly growl.
There’s no threat behind his noises, no malice - he’s just shouting back at the thunder you can’t hear. When you see a bolt of lightning flash in the distance just beyond the city skyline, you know that it won’t be long until Jungkook’s apartment block is drenched in the weather.
It’s just gone midnight when he calls. His face is a little puffy, smile a little lopsided.
“Hey Bammie,” he coos into the camera. You’ve got it angled down to where the pup is resting his head on your knee, peacefully unwinding after his long walk. Bam doesn’t stir at Jungkook’s voice, so he tries again. “Bammie?”
The way he elongates his puppy’s name is sweet - a tone of voice reserved only for his most trusted companion. He sure as hell has never spoken to you like that.
“Sorry, bud,” you say as you lift the camera up to your face. He’s pouting. “I don’t think the vibrations sound the same through the phone.”
“I miss him,” he says not even caring to acknowledge your thought process. “Is he okay? Was he good on his walk?”
“He’s all good,” you smile. “Best boy in the world. None of the other dogs you mentioned were down at the park, so it was just us two.”
He nods into the camera and purses his lips. “They might all be away. Visiting family.” He rolls over in his bed and lets out a yawn. “How’s the apartment? Got everything you need?”
You nod back. “All good. Might have eaten my way through your cheese stash already. I’m gonna shower then head to bed in a minute.”
“Make sure you leave the bathroom door open a little,” he says. “He’ll whine if not.”
“Will do.”
“Thank you,” he says. “I really appreciate you doing this. He hasn’t been too much work, has he?”
“He’s good as gold,” you say as you switch to the back camera. The view is serene, and Jungkook’s lips instantly settle into a smile. Bam is up on the sofa with you, snuggled against your lap. The skyline twinkles through his window, the reflection of his mood lamp obscuring some of it - but he’s quietly pleased that you’re using it. It’s how he normally winds down, too. Main lights off, galaxy on his ceiling. Must make Bam feel a little more at ease. You go to scratch behind his ear, and he huffs a little, all content and cosy. “Thanks for asking. He’s never too much work. You trained him well.”
“Hmm,” Jungkook hums. “Could have trained you a little better, though.”
He laughs when you switch the camera back to your face, mouth open, brows knitted together. “Me?!”
“Yes, you,” he grins now but tries to hide it; to restore the stoicism to his face. It doesn’t work. “What did I tell you about the sofas?”
You purse your lips together as if you’re not smiling. He’s got you there, admittedly.
“Look, he’s just so cute!” Despite the fact you’ve turned the camera back onto Bam, Jungkook can tell you’re pouting. “How could I say no?!”
“Easily!” Jungkook laughs. “That’s how he became so well trained! I leave for one night and-”
“Shuuuush,” you laugh, and when the camera switches back to you, Jungkook can’t help but let his smile persist. You look tired, and so does he, but there’s something about the call that has made you forget all about the fact you were planning on going to bed soon. “My swamp now. My rules.”
“My swamp,” he protests, but the look on his face is so saccharine that you can’t take him seriously. He thinks the same could be said for you. “Anyways, it’s late. Go get your shower. If you need more towels, there are some in the cupboard by the boiler. Don’t forget to turn the vent on - it’s the switch next to the light.”
“Alright, will do,” you nod and then yawn. Bam pricks his head up. “Hey baby,” you speak to him. “Did I wake you?”
“Show me him.”
You switch the camera around to where you’re scratching at Bam’s ear. He leans his head into the scratch, thoroughly enjoying it, your long nails far scratchier than Jungkook’s. It’s not the same - Jungkook is far stronger, so is a little rougher which suits Bam just fine. Still, he likes your scratches better than no scratches at all.
Jungkook whines. “I miss him.”
“He misses you, too. Want me to call in the morning?”
Jungkook shakes his head. “We’re up early tomorrow, heading over to Haedong Yonggungsa in the morning. Probably be up before you. Send me pictures though.”
“Will do. Night, buddy.”
“Night gremlin,” he smiles, and then begins to coo. “Night Bammie. Daddy misses you.”
He wishes you wouldn’t look at him in the way that you do when he says that; lips turned upwards at the very corners, dimples pressing into your cheeks, eyes bright.
“Shut up,” he says, but you’re already laughing.
“Daddy.”
“I am his dad!”
“Daddy.”
“Oh my god, fuck off,” he laughs. “Have nightmares, gremlin.”
“Sweet dreams, Daddy.”
“Fuck off!”
You hang up before he can protest your taunts any more, though he does text you one final ‘fuck off,’ and a reminder that you can bolt his front door if it will make you feel safer.
His apartment is in a high-rise, and his neighbourhood is far nicer than yours. You do the bolt up regardless, and think that it’s sweet that he considered your comfort enough to remind you about it.
Bam sits by the sliding door of the bathroom, the tips of his paws just teetering over the line of the door frame. He rests his head on his legs, snout angled towards the hallway. It still makes you feel a little weird. You don’t really want a dog watching you shower, even if he is a dog and has no real understanding of what’s happening - so you turn your back to him and just reassure yourself that Jungkook showers with the door open wide.
It’s a funny thing, to think about your co-worker’s showering habits. Not one that you’ve ever thought to indulge in before - but Jungkook would go ballistic if he heard you refer to him as your ‘co-worker.’ You’re friends. Pretty good ones, at that.
You’re level players at your company; earn the same wage, hold the same rank. There’s not really any competition between the pair of you - you work in different departments - but are often paired together when the two sections merge for joint projects. You make for a good team.
Over the years, you and Jungkook have also learned that you’re a highly capable team when it comes to playing beer pong against your colleagues on Friday nights, and at the mixed-doubles tennis tournament that your company insists on you participating in every year. It’s either that or be on the Christmas Party Planning committee, and you know which you’d rather do.
Thinking about tinsel in August? No, thank you.
There is however one crucial flaw to your partnerships: how you live your lives. How you manage your money.
See, Jungkook is frugal. He makes big investments - his apartment, his cars, games consoles, Bam. Doesn’t spunk his cash away on the small shit. His apartment is in the heart of the city, only a few floors from the very top. He gets a birds-eye view of the world around him. You don’t even want to imagine how much his deposit cost.
Probably more than you have in your savings. You do spunk your cash away - on the small shit, no less. Clothes, cafes, that sort of stuff. Nothing that holds permanence. It frustrates Jungkook to no end. He thinks you could have a better life if you just used your money wisely - but you’re happy in your slightly cramped apartment, happy when the serotonin of a shopping spree boosts your mood, happy when you’re laughing with your friends over coffee and cake.
You wouldn’t be happy if you felt restricted. You think that Jungkook is.
He disagrees. He has enough in the bank to buy whatever he wants. He has financial freedom.
But there’s a difference. You’re both free in your own ways.
It’s for that reason you’d never work as a couple. Would infuriate one another far too much. Everyone who is close to you both knows this; how badly suited you would be. They’ll joke about all of the women in the office trying to get their mitts on Jungkook - even the married ones - but not you.
It’s funny because they’re right. Everybody wants him.
He collects stars from their eyes and accumulates them in his own. The girls blush and giggle about how he looks at them with galaxies, but they don’t realise what a thief he is. Don’t realise he’s stolen their shine, and incorporated it into his own. A spotlight follows him, and you enjoy watching the show unfold with an amused grin whenever a new secretary catches his gaze for the first time.
It’s not intentional. You don’t think Jungkook realises he does it. In fact, he hadn’t realised that it was such a pattern of behaviour until the midnight squalor of a dive bar had you talking about office conquests, and how the photocopier room had seen his bare ass more than it had seen toner changes.
“Shouldn’t shit where you eat, Jeon,” you’d grinned.
“Firstly, that’s a horrible phrase - and secondly, it takes two to tango. They’re just as much to blame as I am.”
But they’re not. He’s the only repeat offender.
“And anyways,” he had deflected, sinking down the final dregs of his beer. “Don’t act like you’re some kind of saint. Everyone’s fucked a colleague at least once.”
You’d just raised an eyebrow.
“You’re telling me you haven’t?”
“Like I said - shouldn’t shit where you eat, Jeon.”
Now, if he’d have said housemate, you would have folded. Downed your drink. Ordered a repeat round.
Something about a shared space - domestication - really gets you. It’s joint laundry loads, shared dinners, movie nights; grocery shopping, D.I.Y. furniture, arguments about who gets the bigger room. More often than not, it never matters, ‘cause you just end up staying in theirs.
You live alone now. After the third time, you knew better than to let yourself fall into the trap once more.
He learns about your affliction a few months later, and goes on tease you relentlessly.
In fact, he mentions it when he propositions you a few weeks before Chuseok. You had both spent the last couple of holiday periods overworked, slogging through the festivities. For the first time since either of you can remember, your workload has eased up.
You’ve already told him you’re planning on doing sweet, sweet fuck all. You’ve told your family you will be working, because you just want to finally breathe for a while; stay in with a tub of ice cream and your favourite films. Speak to no one. Do nothing.
“I’ve got a favour to ask you,” he had said as he approached your desk before the end of the day. It was a Friday, but you weren’t heading for after-work drinks with the usual suspects like you typically did. You had a date, instead. A third one with the same guy - Mingyu - which felt like a miracle. Even Jungkook was a little shocked that the poor guy wasn’t sick of you.
“Go on,” you had mused as you checked over your to-do list for the following week.
“You gotta promise me something first.”
“Promise you what?”
“That you won’t fall in love with me.”
You’d swatted him away the ruler on your desk, and told him to get his head out of his ass. “Been able to resist your charms this long, Jeon. Give me some credit.”
“It’s only ‘cause you know I’d reject you, you little gremlin.”
“I thought you wanted a favour? Funny way of going about it.”
“Sorry, sorry. You’re right,” he had conceded with an apologetic smile. “Forgive me.”
“What do you want?”
“How would you feel about potentially staying at mine over Chuseok to look after Bam? My parents want us to head down to Busan for the weekend and see relatives seeing as I’m finally free and know it’s a big ask but I-”
“Oh my God, yes?!” You had smiled so wide Jungkook thought you might fracture your jaw.
You love Bam.
In fact, he might just be your favourite thing about Jungkook.
Occasionally you walk him with Jungkook on the weekends, when you’re both hungover and need to get out of a slump. You’ve grown up with pets, but moving to the city in your early twenties to pursue your career meant apartment living.
You’re a rural girl deep down, and would never want to keep a pet in a high rise.
Jungkook manages it, but he goes home at lunchtime to walk Bam during the winter. In the summer, when it’s too hot, he goes home at lunch regardless, to lounge around with Bam under the air con.
Sometimes, you go with him. Bam is always pleased to see you.
Jungkook lied and said he asked around because he didn’t want to inconvenience you.
Truth is, he wouldn’t have trusted anyone else with his baby. He’d never spent a night away from Bam. Hated the idea. Despised it, in fact. He would have just taken Bam with him to Busan, but didn’t think it would be fair to force him on the journey from Seoul.
Over in Busan, when Jungkook hangs up, the conversation isn’t over. It continues in his head.
“Hey, wait…”
“Mhhm?”
“You just… look nice tonight, that’s all.”
He thinks you’d blush. Would tell him to lay off the soju. Accuse him of getting too drunk for a family get-together. He’d let you. Would take the beating of your false accusations, because it would be far easier than admitting he’s not had a single drop.
He thinks of the hug he’ll give Bam when he gets home; how wild his tail will waggle, how he’ll jump all over the place, and how you’ll be giggling. In his mind, you’ll be smiling just as wide as he is.
You’d stay for dinner. Jungkook would order from your favourite place to say thank you. Bam would snuggle up to Jungkook - on the sofa - and you’d be on the other side, stroking his back. He’d be happy. Bam, not Jungkook. But also Jungkook. Hopefully you, too.
When the time would approach for you to go home, you’d offer to help. Rinse out the containers. Hair up in a claw clip, t-shirt off your shoulder like it so often is.
Jungkook doesn’t notice, but his hands begin to trail down his body as he thinks of you. His phone is still on his chest, rising and falling with every beat of his heart. The tips of his fingers stroke against his skin.
He thinks of you laughing with him about something inconsequential. You’d flick water in his direction when he’d make some joke at your expense. It’d all be in good humour.
But then he’d flick some back at you, and water war would break out. Bam would run excitedly between the pair of you, Jungkook chasing you around the kitchen island with wet hands - and you’d do the exact same back. You’d flick water over the counter, tap still running and he’d call you a gremlin.
There’s a smile on his lips as he thinks of his. His hands roam further south. He’s ticking at his abdomen. It’s nice. Feels calm. He likes to engage his senses when he thinks of scenarios like these. Makes it feel more real.
But then he’s thinking of your shirt and the fact it’s white.
And then he’s imagining catching up with you, holding you captive as he angles the tap towards your face. You’ll be shrieking and scrambling to get away, Bam by your feet, Jungkook laughing.
He’d relent, but only enough for you to twist to face him.
Jungkook’s fingers are by his thighs. Stroking. Caressing. He’s avoiding his cock. Knows it’s firm. His index finger spreads to his balls. Teases.
And then he thinks of your body pressed against his torso, your ass to the counter.
You’d both be soaked.
He’d look at your lips. Look in your eyes. Feel your chest against his. He’d swallow hard.
It’s at this point he forgets about Bam in the scenario. It’s just you and him.
His palm rests over the length of his cock. Presses down. His hips roll.
He’d tell you that you’ve made a mess. You’d tell him to clean it up. His heart would be racing. So would yours.
And it’s funny, because his heart actually is. It’s beating so fucking hard in his childhood bedroom, that he thinks his parents must be able to hear it through the walls.
He’s in a far-too-firm single bed, but in his head, he’s with you in his kitchen.
He begins to grip his cock, long fingers wrapping around his shaft. He pulls up. Pushes back down. Says your name. Whines.
He doesn’t even really realise he’s doing it.
Just thinks about you.
Thinks about the way it would feel to sink his lips into yours; the first bite of a forbidden fruit. Thinks about that quick tongue of yours, and if it would be just as quick to find its way into his mouth. Thinks about your manicured nails that Bam loves so much, and how they’d scratch against his scalp instead. Thinks about the way his hips would rock against you, kind of like they are now; pulsing beneath his duvet.
His mind jumps. Skips the foreplay. Doesn’t mean to - but the thoughts are intrusive. Insidious. Insatiable. He can’t help it.
He pushes up into his hand. Pauses. Waits out the feeling. Retracts. Repeats.
In his head, it’s you that he’s pushing into.
The sensation is entirely different, granted, but - fuck - he hasn’t gotten himself off all week and hasn’t had sex in far longer, so it all feels the same to him.
He hasn’t worked out the mental logistics.
His imagination is jumping from the kitchen to his bedroom and then back to the kitchen again. Can’t decide where all of this is happening - and then suddenly, he finds himself railing you in the utility room.
You’re perched above the washer, held in place by him. He can smell the laundry detergent. He’s got spotlights in the room, but they’re turned off. Only lights from the hallway and the city skyline illuminate you.
It’s obscure. The shadows in his head conceal you a little. He’s gripping your waist beneath your shirt. The baby gate which keeps Bam out of the laundry room is closed.
You’re not talking, just fucking, fucking, fucking and -
“Fuck,” he whines, hand is jerking at his cock, heart rate stuttering.
He shouldn’t be thinking about you like this.
Shouldn’t let his mind jump again to a point where you’re fucking naked, and your sodden shirt is on a pile of yet-to-be-done laundry.
But then it jumps again, and one of his towels is on the floor. He’s laying down, back against it. The same position that he’s in now in his childhood bedroom - but he’s thinking about you. The silhouette of your body. The warm curves of your body. The way you bounce on his cock and then-
Oh god, it’s torture the way his cock throbs. Pre-cum leaks from his tip as his speed builds. It’s just a fantasy. Nothing more nothing less. But it’s you. And then he’s thinking about pulling you down for a kiss, and the scent of your perfume and the way you’d moan into his mouth and then his legs are shaking, torso tensing.
He’s taking it too far. Too fucking far. You. Fuck. He can’t. But he doesn’t stop. Just keeps going. Fucks his hand like it’s your pussy.
He’s pulling himself closer, closer, closer, and then he thinks about your voice, and the way you called him Daddy, and he can’t help himself. The pressure that releases in his stomach is catastrophic. Jungkook mewls your name. Calls you baby. Unloads all over himself. White hot cum paints his belly. Seeps into his belly button. Makes a mess of his hand as he coaxes the last few ropes out. It’s been a while since his last nut, but the amount he produces is not fucking normal.
It rolls down the side of his toned torso, Jungkook swallowing harshly as he tries to regulate his breathing. He doesn’t think he can. Doesn’t know what to do with himself. Just kind of lays there. Curses. Knots his brows together. Is frustrated with himself.
You’ve been friends for years. He’s never done anything like this before. He chalks it up to nothing more than him just being a little too horny for his own good. Cleans himself off. Puts his phone on charge. Berates himself for being a piece of shit. Spends a good ten or so minutes staring at the ceiling with an empty head before he falls asleep.
And it’s funny, because when you wake up in the morning, panties damp, the dream you had about Jungkook railing you in his own damn bed, you find yourself looking across the space where he usually sleeps. You reach ouch. Stroke the emptiness. Curse. Spend the rest of the day unbearably horny. It frustrates you. Makes you snappy with Jungkook when he calls.
He asks if you’ve seen Mingyu. You tell him no. He says maybe you should - but makes sure to add, “He’s still not allowed in my apartment.”
“I’m not gonna bring anyone into your space, Jungkook.”
It’s something he knows, and something he trusts you not to do, but he’s still reinforcing boundaries. Making sure that there are still some left. He thinks that if he pushes you closer to someone else, it will sort his brain out. Alleviate him of the guilt that he’s feeling.
But you don’t see Mingyu.
When Jungkook calls again that evening to find you walking Bam alone, he’s pleased. Doesn’t want some guy you’re fucking anywhere near his most prized possession. Bam, that is. Not you. But now that he thinks of it, he finds he doesn’t want Mingyu anywhere near you, either.
“Good day?” You ask, voice a lot lighter than it had been earlier.
Jungkook nods, but he doesn’t really smile. “I miss Bammie.”
You pout. “He misses you too. He’s gonna be so excited when you get home.”
The camera switches to the back camera so he can watch Bam bound along the path. He’s on his lead, snout sniffing in all the flowerbeds. It’s dark out, but there are enough lights on the trail for him to be able to see clearly.
“How is he? Eating okay? Going to the bathroom okay?”
“Eating like a champ, and producing shits to confirm that,” you say flatly. It’s definitely your least favourite part of animal ownership - but the reward is so much greater than having to pick up shit off a sidewalk.
“That’s my boy,” Jungkook grins, before turning his focus to you. “You all good? Seemed a little stressed earlier.”
Jungkook’s expression doesn’t change when the front camera flips back to you, but he finds his heart racing again. When you turn your head to check the car that’s driving past, he notices your hair is up with a claw clip. Just like it was in his… thoughts about you the night before. He likes how attentive you are - how you checked the source of the noise. You’re protective. Follow your instincts. Thinks you’re the best person he could have asked to look after Bam.
“I’m all good,” you say, and you really are.
“I know it’s not exactly the relaxing Chuseok you were planning-”
“Jungkook, it’s fine,” you smile. “It’s been nice. I like Bammie far more than I like you.”
“Understandable.”
You both smile, and Jungkook begins to babble about his day, telling you stories about his parents, and his weird cousin who never knows when to not say inappropriate things, and the aunt who keeps trying to set him up with all of her friends’ daughters.
“Don’t shit where you eat,” you remind him. “Sounds too close to home. Your auntie would never be out of your business.”
“I know, I know,” he rolls his eyes. “And hey - it’s been, like, a year since I last did that! Cut me some slack, gremlin. Anyways, Mingyu works in our building. You’re basically shitting where you eat.”
“I’m actually… I think I’m gonna cool things off with him.”
“Oh?”
“It’s like not a big deal. I’m just not really feeling it.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re not.”
“No, you’re right. I’m not,” Jungkook admits, but is sombre as he does so. He remembers how happy you’d seemed after the first few dates. “But I am sorry that you haven’t found the right guy yet, gremlin.”
“Who knows, maybe I’ll find the love of my life at the dog park tonight.”
“You are not allowed to use my baby as a flirting tactic.”
“No?”
“No.”
“Too late - I’m already here and there is an absolute DILF. Byeeeee.”
“Wait, no-”
You hang up before he can finish, with a grin on your face to rival a Cheshire cat.
The park is empty. Not a single DILF in sight. You ignore his call when he rings back. Will let him sweat it for a bit.
Jungkook lies awake that night.
Doesn’t do much.
His family are still chatting in the sitting room, but he can’t draw himself away from the sanctuary of his own private space, where your voice is still echoing around the room. He’s starting to understand why you’d been craving your space so much for the holiday period.
He doesn’t wanna have to return to the room with a false smile, and a feeling in the pit of his stomach that could rival the ache of getting the ferry across Busan harbour during monsoon season.
Doesn’t want to form cognitive thoughts that distract him from his mindless reflections of you.
Jungkook’s mind works like a house, and right now he’s in the annexe.
He rarely ever goes in there.
Finds he gets too comfortable and neglects the rest of the house. He’s got a garden to tend to, a kitchen to clean, and beds to make - but why would he leave the annexe when it has everything he needs? He’s comfortable there.
It’s normally reserved for the hyper-fixations he’s trying not to fixate on. He locks them away. Hasn’t really visited since he got hooked on GTA5 when he should have been studying for the University Entrance Exam. It’s still there, and he knows better than to pop it in his games console - but there’s someone else on the couch, now. It’s not just him in his mind-annexe. Someone’s in his space. He daren’t let himself go further into the room.
In fact, he’s desperately trying to jump across to the main house. Get himself out of the thoughts that are gonna consume him. He needs to close that God damn door.
But he watches the figure like a car crash. He’s scared. Unable to look away.
Not for fear of it being a monster hidden in the depths of his mind.
Quite the opposite, actually.
Monsters don’t wear their hair up with butterfly-shaped claw clips, or let the clasp of their necklace trail down their spine like that. Monsters don’t twist their back out of habit just to make it click. Monsters don’t spend their days doodling in a journal like the figure on his couch is doing.
But you do.
An iteration of Bam rests up against Jungkook’s leg in his mind, nose wet, tail lightly wagging, so he puts his hand on his pup’s shoulder for comfort. To support him. To guide him away from the annexe and back into the damn main house.
“C’mon,” he says to Bam, expecting him to leave. Expecting him to follow his commands.
It’s his head, after all - but Bam doesn’t heed his commands. Instead, his claws click against the hardwood floor and towards the figure on Jungkook’s couch. A palm outstretches, and Bam leans into it. Hums in content as a set of dark nails scratch at his ear.
“Hey, baby Bammie,” the figure sings and Jungkook knows that voice. Knows it so well that it’s hardly a surprise it’s embedded into his brain so perfectly.
And he knows.
He knows if he lets the person turn around exactly who it’s gonna be. He knows that he can’t let it happen. He won’t.
Because he and you are friends; nothing more, nothing less. Incompatible at best. A match made in hell; so wrong it could never be right.
Jungkook sits up. Shakes his head. The world in his mind tears away into darkness. He stands and tells himself to get a grip before joining his family. He needs the distraction. Needs to have cognitive thoughts. Can’t let himself get trapped. Can’t let him kid himself into thinking that you’re anything more than his friend.
It’s just cause he’s missing Bam, he reasons. Emotions are getting all mixed up. It’s the affection he feels for his beloved best friend that is getting misplaced onto you - although, if he thinks about it (which he won’t (knows better by this point (knows his mind can’t be trusted to behave))), he’d realise that you are his best friend.
It’s unfair to compare you to Bam because you’re an entirely different species, but there’s no other human he likes better than you.
One more day, and he’ll be home. One more day, and he won’t have to call you when he’s all sleepy and confused over his feelings. One more day, and things will be back to normal. One more measly day.
And then he’ll be reunited with Bam, and he won’t have the stress of family or thinking about the week of work ahead to contend with.
One more day. He can do this.
He will do it. Will barrel home at the speed of lightning; will stop only for red lights and maybe the occasional gas station snack, potato spirals on a pointed wooden skewer and deep-fried chicken slathered in a sauce he can never quite figure out the recipe for.
He’ll think about picking you up some bungeoppang - the ones filled with choux, not red bean paste - because he knows that you adore it so. There have been occasions when you’ve begged him to drive you out of the city to the large gas station out West just so you could have bungeoppang from one specific stall.
The signage is faded, and the prices haven’t changed since 2009, but that’s how you know it’s the good shit. A family recipe batter passed down for generations. The woman who makes it is always the same, and though she never remembers you, you always remember her. Beam so brightly Jungkook thinks he’s going blind whenever you spot her.
It’s only because of that one time you’d showed up with the sole mission to retrieve some of the delicious delicacies, only to be confronted with a handwritten ‘closed today, back tomorrow’ note taped to the menu. You never know when the next family emergency or trip out of town might be for your beloved bungeoppang-making Ajumma.
It’s a little after midday when Jungkook’s car rolls into the gas station. He’ll be home soon.
He tells himself that he’s just doing as he always does. Will get his tornado potato. Wolf it down. Go back for some chicken, maybe some tteok.
He’s stayed out of the annexe today. Doesn’t even think about the doorway because he knows the magnetic pull is far too strong for his cobalt heart.
Had ignored your call this morning - sorry, just saying goodbye to everyone. will see you later. - and had pushed all thoughts of you to the side. He’s even tried to stop thinking about Bam because thoughts of him will inevitably lead to thoughts of you and Jungkook is getting dizzy, quite frankly. It’s like he’s chasing his tail, never knowing when to admit defeat.
At least Bam gets enjoyment out of it when he does it. All Jungkook gets is lingering feelings of remorse.
But as he hits the home straight, a small paper bag full of choux bungeoppang cooling down on his passenger seat, his head starts to clear. He’s fixed the lock on the gate that leads to the annexe. Won’t go down that path.
Jungkook arrives ahead of schedule. Parks his car, and doesn’t tell you he’s arrived. Leaves his bag in the boot of the car, but picks up the pastries from his passenger seat.
Opens the door of his apartment quietly. You don’t hear it. Are too busy dancing around the living room with Bam to some mid-noughties classic.
“Hey,” you laugh a little breathlessly as finally notice him. He’s leaning against the wall. Is wearing his glasses, to make up for the long drive. You think it’s a crying shame he doesn’t wear them at work, too.
“Was I interrupting something?”
“No, not all,” you say. There are deep creases below your eyes, testament to the size of your smile. “Me and baby Bammie-” you reach over and stroke at his sides, a little rough and tumble, but perfectly joyous “- were just burning off a little energy before you got home.”
Jungkook crouches, arms outstretched for Bam. The puppy knocks into Jungkook’s chest, legs all moving slightly out of coordination, excitable whines sounding in his throat. His tail wags so fast you think he’d be able to produce electricity if he really tried.
They match each other’s energy; delirious happiness, content only when in one another’s presence.
“Hey buddy,” he coos. “Daddy’s home. I missed you. Missed me too, hey? C’mere.”
His strong hands stroke Bam’s sides, and you watch how playful they both are with unadulterated awe. It seems absurd how similar the two of them are; man and his best friend.
“He was lost without you,” you confirm.
“It’s that right?” Jungkook pouts as he scratches behind Bam’s ears, cradling his face in his hands. “Did Bammie miss Daddy?”
Bam barks. Yes.
“Hey, I’m sorry, boy. I’m home now, though. Daddy’s home.”
Yes, you think. Yes, he is.
The night dissolves much like Jungkook thought it would. You stay for dinner. Watch crappy entertainment shows, and laugh at how absurd people can be. There’s warmth in his apartment, even though he hasn’t turned the heating on.
“You’ll never know how much I appreciate this,” Jungkook says softly as midnight approaches. Bam sighs. There’s rain on the windows, but the storm doesn’t bother him tonight. Not in the slightest. “Thank you.”
Your head shakes. Smile perseveres. “Happy to do it. You know how much I love Bam.”
Silence wraps around your words like a velvet bow, pulled taut. There’s no double knot, but there needn’t be. It isn’t unravelling any time soon.
“So,” you change topic. “How long do you reckon it will take the new secretary to fall in love with you? I’m thinking maybe four days.”
Jungkook wants to make a joke; tease you about how your mind jumped from how much you love his dog, to the idea of loving him. Not you loving him, granted, but it only took a few electrical signals between neurons for you to get there. Must associate him with love pretty closely.
“Four days? Far too quick.” Jungkook pauses. “You’ve been staying here for four days. Reckon that’s an appropriate amount of time to fall in love with someone?”
He’s being facetious. It’s all in jest and yet you feel your heart beat a little faster. Only for a moment. There’s a mild concern in your features, fearful that he can somehow sense the thoughts you’ve been having; the fantasies, the daydreams, the moments of weakness.
You look at him with eyes he doesn’t recognise. Your lashes are low. Sultry, even. Suggestive. Teasing.
And then, they roll.
“Jeon, you have those poor girls on their knees within a single ‘hello’. Don’t act like you don’t know it, you big old flirt.”
“If Bam wasn’t so peaceful, I’d kick you,” he mumbles, stroking at the dark fur behind his pup’s ear. Bam sighs, content to have him back. There’s a smile on Jungkook’s lips. Both are perfectly content. Both are happy to be with the people they like the most in the world.
“He’d just defend me,” you taunt. There’s a serenity to your jokes, and light-hearted banter that means nothing more, nothing less than just enjoyment of one another’s company. “I’m his favourite now.”
Jungkook laughs. Scratches a little firmer behind Bam’s ear. “You hear that, boy? Gremlin really thinks you’d choose her over me.”
You pull your torso back. Turn your body to face his. Let disbelief wash over your features, as if Jungkook saying shit like that’s a surprise. The movement alerts Bam, his head lifting, the chain links of his collar rattling. He looks over to you, then back to Jungkook.
“He LOVES me.”
“I thought dogs are supposed to take after their owners, though?” Jungkook teases. “And I can’t fuckin’ stand you.”
Your playful shock dissolves into narrowed eyes and a suppressed grin. Bam’s looking at you again, so you cup his dainty face and scratch the underside of his jaw. “You hear that, baby Bammie? How are you so lovely when your Daddy is such an asshole?”
Jungkook’s steady gaze lifts to you from Bam. You’re still cooing at the puppy, scratching beneath his snout, but Jungkook’s back in that damn annexe again. He isn’t smiling - but his eyes are unbelievably soft.
So, so velvety. Like satin, maybe; ribbons tied around ponytails. Brushed cotton, perhaps; his still-warm bedsheets fresh out of the tumble dryer.
Soft, like he imagines your hair would be; released from its claw clip, falling around his face. Soft, like he imagines your lips would be; pressed against his, in the privacy of his bedroom. Soft, like he imagines your laugh would be; soundtracking the living alarm clock that is Jeon Bam, as he bundles onto Jungkook’s bed at just gone six-thirty the following morning.
But then you look up at him, and his stare is hard. Still sparkling, yes - but diamonds, not stars. Concrete speckled. Pennies tossed in an empty well; the steel bolt of his door which keeps the outside world at bay.
Hard, like he imagines your teeth would be; tugging on his bottom lip in the shadows of his bedroom. Hard, like he imagines your nails would be; leaving a trail of ruby red sin down his back. Hard, like he imagines your laboured breaths would be; lips resting ajar against his, your very essence pouring into him as he pushes into you.
Hard. Soft. Confusing and conflicting, and just so unbelievably him.
“What?” you question, bemused by the way his demeanour changed. “‘Daddy’ really gets you, huh?”
“Does fuck all for me,” he says with a little temperance, but there’s a smirk on his lips. His tongue runs along the inside of his cheek.
A few have tried the moniker on him, but it never fit well. Would fall from their lips and crash to his bedroom floor. He’d just kiss them to shut them up.
But you… You have him reconsidering. Have him a little hot beneath his sweats.
It’s not really the idea of being your Daddy, but the concept of being one full-stop that has him adjusting his legs slightly. He’s a man of big investments, after all. No greater investment than starting a life with another person. He likes the idea of it.
Makes him think of you talking with a toddler - I’m not sure, baby, go ask Daddy -and the pitter-patter of feet across the hardwood floors of his apartment. Makes him think how gentle you are with Bam, and how wonderful he knows you’d be with a kid. Makes him think all kinds of shit he’s never let himself indulge in before.
When he goes to bed that evening, and his sheets are seeped in the scent of your perfume, he thinks of it all over again.
Thinks of you.
And realises he can’t think about you without his heart racing, any more.
The door of the annexe in his mind is broken, now. Off its hinges.
And apparently, so is he.
Shit.
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