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#this is free for all. you're welcome. or sorry I did this
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Body Shot
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Pairing: Nessian x Reader
Summary: Reader introduces Nes and Cass to body shots.
Warning: little smut and fluff. Unedited(sorry!)
A/N: This is not the same time line as Crush on Them. It is a standalone. Hope you like this❤️
Masterlist
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You walked into the House of Wind to see Cassian and Nesta kissing. You sigh at your lovers, always around each other kissing or fucking, not caring where they were or who near them. Though, you admit, you liked it. Liked how they didn't care what other people thought and just did whenever they wanted.
They break apart at the sound of your footsteps walking in. Both of them instantly turning to you and ginning. "You're back! How was you day?" Cass asks, getting up to kiss you welcome. You instantly melt into his lips, pouting when he pulls back.
"How do you think? Keir was an ass as always. I got the job done, though." He takes your gear and leathers off as you rant on about how Rhysand gave you a mission to go to Hewn City. Keir had some notice to give to the High Lord, but Rhys and Feyre were too busy with other things to go there themselves. You didn't get time to tell your partners about your task before going there, it took you an entire day to finally be able to come back.
"After going there, I got to know he wasn't even there that moment, I had to wait an entire hour before meeting him. I was so pissed." You huff as you sit on the couch beside Nesta before pulling her into a small kiss too. "And then the meeting was in some club, it was so disgusting. Everyone was drinking and humping anything they saw, and the smell! I almost puked! I swear I even saw a couple fucking in the background." You gag at the memory. Ness and Cass, too, grimacing in disgust with you.
"Alright we need wine if we want to erase that image out of our heads." Cassian walks out to the kitchen, leaving you and Nesta alone for a minute. You shift from your sitting position and lay your head on her lap, wrapping your arms around her waist and relaxing your head on the soft muscles of her thighs.
She waves her fingers through you hair, freeing them from your bun and massages your scalp lightly. You almost pur under her hands. She smiles slightly at your closed eyes and the tense of your body slowly relaxing with each stroke of her fingers.
You are almost asleep when Cassian walks back out, balancing three glasses and a bottle of white wine in his hands. "Alright, come on, drink up." He sits down at your other side as you get up from Nesta's lap, and he lines up the glasses to fill them.
"You know, you could've just asked the house to bring and serve these for us." You raise an eyebrow at him. Nesta smirks at you both and Cassian pauses pouring the wine for a second, frowning at the glass, as if he just now realized that. "Well- Maybe I just wanted the house to rest for a day." His tone sounding defensive before continuing his work.
You and Nesta laugh when he doesn't look at you while handing out your glasses.
-☆-
"You know, I also learned something else in that club today."
Both of your partners groan at your words. You have been talking non stop about all the vulger things you saw in those walls and how revolting you feel at them. They both were polite enough to hear you, but not listening anything that came out of your mouth. Their drunken states not helping at all in paying attention to things they don't want to listen to.
"Oh don't worry, this one's fun." You get up from where you were sprawled out on the ground. Nesta and Cassian laying on the couch, sitting in a position that can be described as in middle of sitting and laying. Their eyebrows raise as they look at your excited expression before glancing at each other with suspicion.
"Okay so this is apparently a thing they do in bars, it's called a body shot." Your smile raising their unsureness even more.
"And what is that?" Cassian asks.
"It's when one person lays down, and another person drinks alcohol off of them." You nod in enthusiasm.
"What do you mean off of them?" This time it's Nesta that asks because Cassian is still trying to understand what you said through his high head.
"Like, the person that's laying, has to hold a lemon in thier mouth and the other person puts salt on the layer's chest and spills drinks in thier navel and drinks from there." You try to explain as good as you can, but words don't seem to come to you to do so exactly.
Cassian frowns,"that navel part, sounds... unsanitary." Nesta nodding along him.
"Well that's true. Maybe we'll just make the person laying, hold the glass." You say.
"Oh so we are doing this?" Nesta blinks.
"Yes!! Come on it'll be so fun!" You pout.
"Well who will?" Nesta looks between the two of you.
"Don't look at me. I didn't understand any of it. I'll just mess it up." Cassian puts his hands up.
"Nesta, come on please. I really want to try it. It'll be alright if you really dont want to though. Your choice." You smile at her.
She looks at you and then Cassian and he nods, repeating your words. She inhales deeply before finally saying. "Fine. I'll do it." And you squeal in excitement.
"Alright. What do I have to do?" She gets up from the couch, standing in front of you. Slightly smiling at your excited face as you ask the house for a cut in half lemon and salt.
"Okay, take off your shirt." She does, but the second it's off, you and Cassian both get distracted when you realized she doesn't have anything underneath. She smirks at your reactions when cassian matters,"I don't know what's happening but I love it."; And you practically drool at her perfect breasts.
You quickly gather yourself and shake your head, trying to think straight. You clear your throat and say,"Alright, now lay down on your back on the ground." She does so without question. Laying in front of the couch so that Cassian can see you both from your sides. You kneel down beside her before draping one leg over her thighs, straggling her lap.
You take the glass of wine and instruct her to hold it. You sprinkle a pinch of salt over her naked chest and take the lemon,"Open your mouth." Your voice a thick with arousal as you try to keep your eyes away from her curvy flesh. Her lips part, taking one end of the piece of lemon between her teeth.
"Ready?" You wait until she nods and then dip down, parting your mouth to trail your tounge over her chest. Starting from her lower chest, slowly leading up. Feeling a little mischievous, you circle your tounge around her nipple, the sour taste of salt mixing with the sweet of her pirked bud. You smirk when she gasps under you.
You arch your spine, leveling your ass up for Cassian, giving him a perfect show as he groans. You sit up enough to take the glass out of Nesta's hand and drink down the liquid before putting it aside for the final step. You lean down again, parting your lips and take the other end of the lemon between your teeth. You graze your lips over hers, stilling a little to smirk at her fushed expression before leaning back and swallowing down the sour juice.
You take out the remains of lemon, and it vanishes, the house throwing it out for you. You smile widely at Nesta,"And that is a body shot."
The three of you are silent for a while as they try to take in what just happened. Your smile slowing flattens when Nesta doesn't say anything but just stares at you, up on her elbows. You think maybe she didn't like it and try to pull away from her, thinking of apologising before her hand suddenly shoots out, pulling you back onto her.
Before you could say anything she leans up and slams her lips to yours, her hand now gripping your hair and the other, behind you, wrapping around your waist and pulling you into her. You chests flushed together, her tightened nipples rubbing against the fabric of your clothes.
"Wait! So you liked it?" You pull back as far as you can with her hand pulling on your hair, she uses the time to bite and suck on your neck, and you whimper at the pain and pleasure.
"Yes." She whispers against your skin before pulling back to look into your eyes and says,"And we're not done."
She kisses harshly, and pulls at your clothes to rid of them, another pair of hands join hers when she fambles with the bottons too many times. She pulls back to concentrate on getting you out of your clothes while Cassian tips your head to side, your back against his chest now as he kneels behind you over Nesta, you lean up to kiss him too, just as passionately. His stubble grazing against the soft skin of your face and you whimper.
Nesta finally opens all the bottons of your shirt and roams her hand over your chest, pinching and twisting your nipples, making you moan into Cassians mouth. He pulls back to take Nesta's mouth on his as thier hands wrap and pull on your body. You moan again, you love seeing them kiss and having thier hands on you.
It is going to be a long night.
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shmolish · 3 days
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could you maybe do a shadow milk cookie x beast!reader......... for a possible plot you could maybe do reader getting corrupted and upon getting sealed away getting separated from shadow milk cookie,,,,, maybe reuniting after the seal is broken?? sorry if this doesn't make sense, you don't have to do this request if you don't wanna!!
AN: So, I actually... haven't... played the new update... SO I DONT REALLY KNOW THE LORE THAT WELL. I did a quick Google search and I think I got it? And I know what the seals are ☆ ALSO, I KNOW THAT THE SEALS DONT ACTUALLY DO THIS, BUT LETS JUST PRETEND FOR THE PLOT. Anyway, I decided on some small angst. (But if you want a fluffier version, just request it. I wont be mad or annoyed or anything like that bc I seriously would love to make a fluffier version of this plot!!)
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Shadow Milk Cookie x GN! Beast reader. ONESHOT.
Warnings: Slight angst, possession
-Same-
It's been an awful long time since you were last awake. Did this even count as sleeping? Does being sealed away count as being asleep?
"Heyy. Wakey wakey!"
Who's voice is that? It sounds familiar.
"Come on, doll! You're making me worried.."
They sound upset. Wait, why are there voices?
"You are alive.. right? You didn't crumble away?"
I think I'm free...
You would flutter your eyes open. Everything was blurry, and your head hurt. Somebody was poking your face, but their hands were cold. Not the most welcoming of scenes, but whatever.
"Oh, so you are alive! That's a relief. I don't know what I'd do without you!" The person was leaning over you, and they held a big smile.
They seem familiar... but who are they?
You would smack their face away from yours and back away from them.
"Ow! Don't you know hitting your lover is mean?" The cookie would put a hand on his face while glaring at you.
What did he just say?
"Lover?"
The cookies face would turn sulen.
"Yeah... You remember me, right?"
...
Nobody said a word.
"Doll, I'm all for jokes, but this isn't funny."
He would just stare at you for a while with an annoyed expression before his face suddenly perks up into a smile.
"Oh I see, you're just confused! It must have been confusing awaking from such a long nap. Here, why don't we go on a walk to clear your mind?" The cookie would take your hand and start taking you for a walk. He didn't wait for your input.
"No, you don't understand. I have no recollection of you."
He'd only hum while cheerfully walking.
"I don't even know your name."
"Yes you do~" he would chime, still wearing that deranged smile.
"I do not-" you would snatch your hand out from his grasp and stop walking.
"..." He wouldn't say anything to you, only stare at the ground. His smile feel instantly in that moment.
"You really don't remeber... do you?" He asked you, not bothering to turn towards you.
"I don't."
He sighed before finnaly facing his body towards yours, though, he just couldn't bring himself to meet your gaze.
"Shadow Milk Cookie. That's my name. We used to be close but.." he paused before sighing. "I guess you forgot about all us!" He would have a crazed smile on his face.
"Look, I'm sorry that I don't remeber you, but there really isn't anything I can do about it,"
Shadow Milk would laugh before finnaly meeting your eyes. He would stare deeply into your eyes, that smile never leaving his face.
"Oh, but there is! Don't worry, dove, I'll make sure you remeber. Just stay still..." He would take one of your hands and begun to spin you around.
"Hey! what are you-" Shadow Milk would stop spinning you and put a finger over your mouth, shushing you.
"It's okay doll, I'll take care of you. Just let me guide you, all right?" He gave you an annoying grin, to which you glared at, but ultimately said nothing to.
"Ah yes, this is how I remeber it. You always were so obedient." He would step behind you and place both of his hands on your shoulders.
"You may not remeber me, but I remember everything about you," he would whisper into your ear.
You'd tense up, feeling his breath on your neck.
"Yeah, this is how you would always react. You really haven't changed..."
Shadow Milk Cookie would step back infront of you and trace his cold fingers along your facial features.
"And your face is the same as well." He had a ore faraway look in his eyes, as if he were reliving some other moment. He never let his smile falter though.
"Shadow Milk... were we really close?" You would ask him.
He couldn't help but snicker.
"Oh yes, soooo close."
"..."
"Want me to show you how close?" He held onto your chin, making you look towards him.
"Your answer doesn't really matter. I would have done this anyway."
Shadow Milk closed his eyes and pressed his lips against yours. It was a short kiss, but one full of longing.
"You have no idea how much I've been craving you. It was torture being away from you for so long. You can't expect me to let you go just because you forgot some things~"
A twinge of pink would dash your cheeks from the prior kiss. It should have felt forced and strange yet... there was a feeling of familiarity that made it feel nice.
"Oh how I've missed your cute, silly, blushing faces! There must have been a part of you that liked it then! Maybe I can make you remeber after all."
Shadow Milk would hold onto your wrist and begin walking with you again.
He held that psychotic smile once more while staring into your eyes.
"But even if I can't make you remember, I certainly won't allow you to forget."
Fin~
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bookshelfdreams · 1 year
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Crocheted Important Blue Internet Checkmark. Because why the fuck not.
(Pattern under the cut)
Please note that this hasn't been tested, and I have very little experience writing down patterns. If you have problems or questions I'll try my best to help!
Yarn: I'm using mercerized cotton from my stash. The lighter blue is Lana Grossa Cotone, the darker a tiny leftover with the tag long since lost, but similar. Whatever material/weight of yarn you have laying around is fine though.
Hook: 2.5mm for me, but again, whatever you have and works with your yarn.
Instructions (ch = chain, sc = single crochet, dc = double crochet, tr = treble crochet, sl = slip stitch, sl tog = slip stitches together (insert hook in stitch, pull loop through, insert hook in next stitch while leaving 1st loop on hook, pull loop through stitch & through the loop still on the hook)
Base:
co 3 in a magic loop (3)
2sc in every stitch (6)
2sc in every stitch (12)
(sc, 2sc) x 6 (18)
(sc, sc, 2sc) x 6 (24)
(sc, sc, sc, 2sc) x 6 (30)
((dc, tr) in same stitch, (tr, dc) in same stitch, sc) x 9, (dc, tr) in same stitch, (tr, dc) in same stitch, slip last stitch. Break yarn & pull through
Check (you can just embroider this on, however, I suck at embroidery):
ch13, turn
sc in every stitch, ch1, turn
sl 2, sl 3 tog, sl 3 tog, sl 4, break yarn
sew check onto the base
sl 3 tog: People seem to have trouble w this, which is on me for not explaining it well. Here's what I did w pictures:
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Start here
Insert hook in next stitch
Pull loop through, leave it on the hook
Insert hook in next stitch
Pull loop through, leave it on the hook. Hook now has 3 loops.
Pull the 3rd loop through the other 2
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This is the finished stitch; basically, decrease 2 stitches 2x to create an angle.
Back (optional):
Repeat steps 1-6 of the base
fiddle in a safety pin like so:
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3. sew it on the back of the base
4. Realize that despite your copious amount of Internet Clout, people still expect you to "pay taxes" and "make cars that don't explode". But at least you can ban the haters now!
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starlightervarda · 3 months
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I can't sleep so Star Trek TOS/SNW dashboard simulator
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🪆 chekovsgunman Follow
to this day I can't understand why they're called the Three Musketeers if there's FOUR of them? Did Dumas just forget his own main character???
🪴 plantdad Follow
You've got to be kidding me
🪆 chekovsgunman Follow
I know right? A mistake like this would never happen in Russian literature!
5,324 notes
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🩺 therealmccoy Follow
After months of taking care of everyone else on this giant tin can I really earned this shore leave. Now I get to drink, relax, flirt with some lovely ladies and sleep until noon 😎 Just what the the doctor ordered!
🩺 therealmccoy Follow
Update: A fucking purple tree ate five crewmen. Again.
955 notes
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🖖 iamspock Follow
Despite being among humans for close to a decade, I still find their tendency to overcomplicate and avoid aspects of social situations to be confusing at best and infuriating at worst. So much time is wasted on tedious matters such as who gets to 'make the first move' or 'not come off too strong'.
For example, everyone aboard my vessel is keenly aware of Lt. Uhura and Engineer Scott's 'budding romance'. But their need to extend their oddly avoidant courtship ritual, rather than outright state their interest in one another, is pointless, as well as frustrating to witness.
Why do they do this? Why not 'get it over with', as they say?
I encourage answers from all cultures, human or otherwise.
💅 janicethemenace Follow
I'm sorry Scotty and Nyota are WHAT
💉 xtinechapel Follow
DELETE THIS
💖 ofmanytongues Follow
SPOCK NOOO HE DOESN'T THINK OF ME LIKE THAT 😭
🔧 scott-free Follow
But I do! I thought you knew and were just being nice about it!
💖 ofmanytongues Follow
DMing you rn 😳
🖖 iamspock Follow
You're welcome.
24,103 notes
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🌟 j_tiberius_k Follow
PSA: If you visit Antares VII, stay clear of any yellow plants, their pollen can have some...inconvenient effects on the biology of humanoid peoples.
My XO and I suffered through troubling symptoms until it was almost too late. Thankfully, we figured out a cure in time.
🪴 plantdad Follow
I can only find info on the symptoms. What was the cure? 👀
🌟 j_tiberius_k Follow
Do I really have to say it?
6,322 notes
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💊 mmmbenga Follow
The galaxy if Klingons didn't exist
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⚔️ glorytotheempire Follow
Wow. Humans are openly advocating for our disappearance yet Klingons are the bad guys? I thought your federation stood for peace.
💊 mmmbenga Follow
Cry harder you genocidal wrinkly-faced bitch I hope your planet gets sucked into a black hole
#If you think a joke is on par with what they do then book an MRI because you might have brain damage #fuck Klingons and anyone that sympathizes with them
35,007 notes
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😎 ortegaaaas Follow
So I can either skim through this asteroid belt on Warp 2 for 3 hrs or on Warp 5 for 15 mins
🚀 mitchiemitch Follow
Erica no! That's not how navigation works!
😎 ortegaaaas Follow
FLOOR IT???
🚀 mitchiemitch Follow
ERICA NO
😎 ortegaaaas Follow
HOW ABOUT WARP 7 FOR 15 SECONDS?
💖 ofmanytongues Follow
ERICA YOU'RE GOING TO CRASH THE SHIP
😎 ortegaaaas Follow
I AM GOING TO HARNESS LIGHT-SPEED TO ZIGZAG THROUGH THE VOID
🚀 mitchiemitch
ERICA P L E A S E
112,517 notes
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🐴 sirsilverfox Follow
I know some species are very private, but you'd think they'd share the important stuff, esp when we should trust each other by now.
How are we supposed to enjoy my weekly dinners if you all don't tell me what to watch out for :/ This is the third time this happens to the same person and I had to get the answer why from our CMO
💫 numerouna Follow
Wait what did I miss while I was gone
🐴 sirsilverfox Follow
Spock got wasted on my chocolate fudge cake and hit his head on the counter ://///
2,904 notes
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doobean · 6 months
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HIM & HIM - SAE ITOSHI + OLIVER AIKU
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synopsis: You're a tired-out office worker who often relieves yourself from the mundanes in life through clubbing and going to local bars. Little did you know that one night you would be approached by two men and an offer that you can't deny.
contents: explicit content, afab!fem!reader, sex worker!oliver, sex worker!sae, semi-public sex (nightclub bathroom), double penetration, anal sex, vaginal sex, face grabbing, slight hair pulling, nipple play, ass slapping, usage of aphrodisiacs, unprotected, overstimulation, degradation, name calling (slut), rimming/anal fingering, blowjobs, hand jobs, cumming in ass, facials, kinda proofed mdni word count: 3.5K a/n: part 2 of my kinktober event! nevermind maybe this is the nastiest thing I've ever written?? i gave up and am now using words cock and pussy because who can stop me?? no one gets emotionally hurt in this one - sorry to everyone who got sad over my first kinktober fic :(
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It shouldn’t be a crime with how often you find yourself going to nightclubs every weekend. You’re simply letting yourself loose — from all of life’s hardships and the insane amount of unpaid overtime that you’re expected to work at your corporate company. 
You should’ve known it was too good to be true when they misspelled your name in their welcome letter.
And now, with two years down the drain, you feel like the only way you can properly destress is by spending two hours at a random bar and then on their dance floor every week. Some of your friends might suggest going to therapy but who would want to get a therapist specifically for work? That sounds like too much to juggle around. You could also quit, but the job market is absolutely ass right now so why would anyone want to do that?
Searching for your new weekly playground also doesn’t take too much effort versus sifting through various shitty therapists either. You always do a bit of background research before settling on one; it has to offer good drinks at a reasonable price point, the DJs and performers have to be people that you’re familiar with, a dress code would be nice to get rid of some weird guys, and has to have hot guys there. After all, that’s one of the hidden reasons why you love going out solo to these clubs. 
And your mission for tonight? Flirt with some guys, get free drinks, and get shitfaced. 
Seventh Heaven is currently the talk of the town. Having it finished its grand opening almost a month ago, you’ve been seeing it all over your social media pages non-stop. Not only did it fit your criteria, but everyone kept raving about their escorts — male and female alike. You never thought about paying for entertainment, so it wasn't necessarily high on your priority list, but you'd be dishonest to yourself if it didn't pique your interest. 
As the night finally arrives, and as you step into the venue, immediately captivated by the grandeur of the place. The elegant decor, the subdued lighting, and the hum of conversations create an atmosphere that feels both exclusive and inviting. Your legs take you straight over to the bar, where you start your friendly banter with the bartender.
Luckily, the dress you’re wearing has never failed you in getting free drinks. “What should I do to get a margarita around here?” You bat your lashes.
The bartender doesn’t say anything and hands you a sweating glass. You take a sip of it from where you stand, eyes wandering the room and scanning for easy men to prey on. Your eyes dart from table to table, most of the men were already preoccupied by other women. It seems like you aren’t the only one with this idea for tonight. You sigh, shoulders slumping, as you realize that it might take a while for your next free drink. You’re about to pull out your phone to keep your attention preoccupied until—
“Would you be interested in having sex with us?”
You nearly choke on your drink, the tequila burning your nose and throat as you cough down the remaining liquid. You feel a pat on your back and look up. The large hand belongs to a tall, heterochromatic man with wispy hair, he’s smiling ear to ear. Behind him stood a smaller, slender man with sharp features and strikingly teal eyes. Surely, these men weren’t talking to you?
“I-I’m sorry?” You have to do a double-take because wow do they make guys this attractive anymore?
The other man sighs and steps over to remove his hand from your back. “You’re too impatient, Oliver.”
The man named Oliver pouts. “I only said one sentence, Sae.”
“You were being rude.”
“That’s rich coming from you—”
You clear your throat, now seemingly confused about the situation unraveling in front of you. “What’s happening exactly?”
They both pause and exchange knowing looks. 
You clutch your drink close, eyeing the two men and ignoring the rising heat from your legs. “And why me?” 
“You’ve only been glancing at tables with women surrounded by men.” Oliver leans forward and winks. “We might have the same idea for tonight, yeah?” His charm is oozing, it’s contagious. You can feel your knees buckling underneath from his smile.
You can’t remember when’s the last time you’ve had sex. Dating is out of the question due to being overworked and hookups are always a hit-or-miss. Though seeing that these men are staff members from their shared uniform, you would be stupid enough to turn down such an offer. These must be the men that people were talking about.
This week has been overwhelming and taxing on your mental health and you could use a nice break right now. The drink isn’t helping you forget about life that much.
“I’m not a fan of threesomes, so you guys better change my mind by the end of tonight.”
You didn’t question much as they directed you into a bathroom by the far end of the nightclub. It’s spacious, the floor is layered in black tiles, and definitely isn’t just meant for doing your business. The walls are covered in noise-cancellation plush foam, paintings of nude men and women scattered across the place, and there is a small fridge filled to the brim with rolled-up towels by the corner.
“Well, don’t just stand there—” Your back presses against the sink’s counter, spreading your legs slowly for the two men in front of you with a tease of a smile on your plush lips. “—fuck me already.”
Sae reacts first, rolling his eyes at your words before leaning forward and capturing your lips with his. Your arms and hands work fast and, in an instant, you’re tugging at his shirt and belt buckle while crashing your body into his. His calloused hands mimic your frantic motions, grazing and eagerly grabbing the flesh of your waist, thighs, and eventually settling and kneading your ass. You originally thought he would come off as the shy, vanilla type compared to his friend but you’re gladly taken aback. 
You groan against his mouth as he nibbled lightly against your lips, tongue immediately invading the open space given to him. You’ve hardly touched him but you can already feel his painfully hard length pressing against your legs. Instinctively, you spread your legs wider for him to grind on your clothed folds, moaning at the familiar built-up sensation.
“Can’t believe you’re hard for me already.” You coo against his lips, chuckling when he pulls back with the slightest frown etched on his face. 
The playfulness in your tone is immediately replaced by a breathy moan when his fingers plunge against your sloppy folds, pressing tightly. Sae leans in and starts leaving small bites along the sensitive skin of your neck. 
“Says the slut who wants us inside of her right now,” Sae mumbles against your warm skin.
You poise your tongue, ready for a comeback, before letting out another groan when Oliver appears beside you, forcing your hand away from Sae’s neck and placing it on his leaking cock. The taller male hisses in pleasure at the feeling and bends down to meet your glossy gaze. 
“Gotta take care of me too, sweetheart.” Oliver breathes into your ear, the scent of his cologne makes your head fuzzy, and he buckles his cock further into your palm. “We’ll fill you up but it’s me that’s gonna make you cum.”
Sae’s grip on your ass tightens up at the declaration, he snaps his head up and throws Oliver a furrowed brow. Your moans come out in a series of shudders as Sae’s fingers easily pull your panties down your thighs, leaving behind trails of slick from your dripping heat. You bite back your volume and jolt in pleasure when his fingers start ghosting over your entrance but his sight never leaves Oliver’s face.
“Keep count, will you? I’ll be the first one do to so.” His voice stays leveled despite the apparent dark glint over his teal eyes, almost as if he was going to devour you in and out throughout the coming night. 
“Yeah?” Oliver purr against your ear, his large hand finding home at the small of your back and his other assisting your occupied hand on his cock, pumping it slow and steady. Pleasure shoots down your stomach at the sight of his leaking tip and the way it throbs in your hand. Oliver laughs when he notices you shuffling between the two of them, the sweet scent from your folds drawing both of them in. “You want me first, baby?”
Sae’s hand forces your face up, directly in line with his. His expression stays deadpanned as he taps your cheek with his thumb. “Answer carefully.”
You lick your lips, eyelashes fluttering. “Both.”
Oliver laughs and Sae merely hums in satisfaction. Your grip and pace on Oliver’s length fasten as Sae leans in, continuing to ravage the space between your shoulders and neck all while his digits begin sliding into your cunt. You twitch as Sae’s breath stops momentarily at the feeling of the velvety walls inside, taking in every single detail as your legs start to give out from underneath. 
“So fucking filthy,” Sae groans at the wet sounds below and starts scissoring his fingers inside.
The combination of his thick fingers and the feeling makes your eyes blow wide, unable to formulate sentences, and you find yourself grasping at Sae’s shirt in order to ground yourself. He’s teasing, it’s tanalizing with the slow pace he’s set for you. There’s something mysterious and addicting about Sae’s aura that makes you want to please him so that he spares you his time.
Right now, from what you can tell, he wants you to say what you want otherwise he’ll continue to stay slow. 
His teal eyes bore into yours as you grind yourself shamelessly down his fingers with a loud whine. “Make me cum—I wanna cum…”
Oliver moves closer, his stubble grazing above, and places a chaste kiss on top of your head. “Guess you’re taking the first point for tonight.”
Sae ignores his friend’s commentary and silently nods at your request. As you hump against his fingers desperately, Sae goes in and captures your lips before picking up his pace inside of you. Your other hand is currently lathered up in Oliver’s pre, who’s seemingly also enjoying the sight of you taking everything in. His hand on your back roams and stops at your clothed breasts, massaging the soft mounds, and exhales by your ear. 
“You’re doing so good. Do you know how wet you sound right now?” He coos.
You couldn’t say anything back, gasping for air as Sae’s tongue occupied your mouth, and merely tugged at Oliver’s length faster. When his fingers dig and curl at a familiar spongy part of your walls, you roll your head back and let the warm coiled feeling take over. Your head starts to feel hazy, and your body thumps as Sae continues to work you toward your orgasm. It’s not until Oliver starts toying with your hardened buds that you come undone all over the other male’s digits, the sounds from your mouth are full of cursed obscenities and saccharine moans.
“Look at the mess you made,” Sae pulls his fingers out and glances down at his lap. Your slick is sticking all over his forearm and upper thighs, it’s absolutely drenched and you didn’t think you were able to reach that level of pleasure before. 
Sae watches you carefully as your chest rises heavily, your face flushed and tears smearing the makeup you had carefully put on earlier in the night. 
Oliver takes a seat on top of the toilet lid, a hand patting his lap and the other stroking his cock. “Just for you, princess.”
You’re still high off of your orgasm but you feel yourself nodding, babbling nonsense from your mouth as you position yourself facing away from him, angling the tip of his length from behind. Your vision goes teary again. It’s barely even all the way in and yet—
“Shit, did you just cum again?” The tight feeling of your walls fluttering around Oliver makes him moan. He places both of his hands around your waist and guides you further down his length, hissing through his teeth when you finally bottom him out. “So warm, so fucking tight, sweetheart.”
With the angling done right, he’s slamming deep into you over and over again, each stroke eliciting little whimpers from your mouth. Slick is dripping down your thighs and onto his lap, but he doesn't seem to notice, and you couldn't care less since you're fascinated with the thickness of his cock and how beautifully he fits inside of you. You absolutely love the sensation of him sliding in and out of you, nearly fucking you like a toy, and having total and complete power over you while mumbling praise into your ear.
Sae stands in front and there’s a slight annoyance that’s written across his face as he stares down at you. He clicks his tongue in disapproval. “That easy to please?”
His cock springs free from his pants, his head red and covered in pre. While he isn’t as large as Oliver’s, it is certainly pretty, nicely trimmed, and has a thick vein running along its side. Sae tries to control his breathing as your hands suddenly wrap around his aching cock. As you swallow him whole into your warm, wet lips, Sae groans while looking into your half-lidded eyes. His hands instantly fly to your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair and pushing his hips further into your mouth, not paying much attention to the way drool is now seeping out of the corners of your lips.
Sae cursed under his breath when you reach down to fondle with his balls gently, massaging the flesh into your palms. You continue to hollow out your cheeks, bobbing your head down his length while Oliver slams against your cervix again. Your constant moans send vibrations down his length and it’s so intense that he has to pull away, his stomach flexes in the process. 
“Switch with me,” Sae barks at the other male but is only met with a chuckle.
“Fuck no, she’s too good for you,” A hard slap on your ass sends a shockwave through your body. “You can keep fucking her sloppy mouth.”
But that didn’t stop Sae from getting what he wanted. He grabs your wrist and pulls you out of Oliver’s grasp before sharply turning you around. Sae’s hands rest on your shoulders, the applied pressure from him indicates that he wants you to sit back down on Oliver’s length. You silently follow along, feeling his intense gaze from behind, and wrap your arms around Oliver’s neck for support as you edge yourself down. You’re whining again, still not used to having something so thick and filling inside, and Oliver leans in, kissing you on the cheek in an attempt to comfort you.
“Told you he’s the rude one,” He murmurs teasingly.
“Be quiet,” You can imagine Sae rolling his eyes.
You whine louder when you feel a sudden wet muscle brush over your ass. It’s Sae’s tongue. He’s making lazy circles around your other hole, before slipping a finger easily in. You clench yourself tightly around Oliver at the new feeling. You haven’t realized that your asshole is much more sensitive and you can’t help but move your hips, wanting more.
One finger. Then two. And three.
Sae moves them slowly from inside, curling them and stretching out your hole for a few seconds before retracting. Within moments, you feel his cock probing at your entrance, causing you to moan and wither against the larger male. 
“You can take it, don’t act like you don’t want to get filled up by two guys.” Sae pushes the first inch forward, inhaling a deep breath when it goes in with minimal resistance. 
You feel his cock twitch inside of you with every forward movement. Your legs begin to shake from the build-up pressure from both holes. You’re gasping loudly, struggling to breathe as your eyes shut tight, and your mouth goes slack from the intensity that it almost hurts.
Your loud wails are quickly silenced by Oliver’s hand, his thick digits shove their way into your mouth as he continues to bounce your shaky figure down his hardened shaft. 
Tears begin to blur your vision at the intensity of it all, the aching feeling from your hips, ass, and cunt from the constant stimulation is getting to you. Just when you thought this was the height of it, Oliver pulls out a small glass vial from the pocket of his shirt. It’s a clear substance, unlabeled, and you’re sure it’s not regulated by any means with the look he’s giving you right now. Sae slows down his pace from behind and you feel his chest rumble lowly against your back, seemingly knowing what might happen next.
“Sweetheart,” Oliver’s free palm caresses your flushed cheek, a more careful and delicate touch compared to earlier. His hand stops at your mouth, thumbs rubbing softly over your lips in his way of coaxing you to open up and chuckling when you easily obey. “Gonna make you feel good, I promise.”
Luckily, the substance didn’t have a taste to it. The texture is almost like water and it flows down your throat with ease. What you didn’t expect is the drug taking effect on you almost immediately. As if your body has risen in temperature, you start to heavily pant, hands gripping Oliver’s sleeves while you lean further back against Sae’s firm chest. The two men both let out groans of their own when you start spasming from the inside, their cocks fighting with your hot walls. 
Slowly, they begin to pick up their initial pace. Oliver watches as your mouth goes slack, pools of drool spilling out, and eyes roll back. And, while he knows he should let your body adjust to the change, the sight of you all fucked out is enough to drive him crazy and he quickly finds himself slamming into you, a force so strong that it makes Sae break his focus. 
“Stop hogging her all to yourself,” Sae snaps.
“Maybe you should try harder, no?” Oliver’s free hand settles on your breast, toying the nipple between his thick digits, earning a squeal from you. “Or else we’re gonna be here all night.” 
His comment spurs Sae and he finds himself speeding up, fucking your ass deeper and messier than before. All signs of his previous stoic emotions melt away as his hand reaches to grab a fistful of your locks, tugging it harshly followed by a sharp slap on the flesh of your ass. 
You can’t contain your cries, sobbing loudly in pleasure as both of your entrances elevate to another level of sensitive heights. 
“Oh—! Yesyesyes give it to me…!”
“I knew you could take it,” Oliver latches his mouth onto your breast, dual-colored eyes looking up as he twirls his tongue around your pebbled nipple. “Such a good fucking girl, taking two cocks at once.”
Your walls are spasming uncontrollably around them. “I-I’m gonna—” Your nails dig deep into Oliver’s forearms, leaving behind half-crescent marks as you moan louder, wordlessly begging both males not to stop.
Your toes start to curl, and your mouth drops as your third orgasm strikes you after one final, expertly aimed stroke against a particular area inside of you. It’s loud, messy, and incomprehensible, and Oliver groans when you press closer to him. You release yourself all over his cock, the pool of liquid drenching his lap. You find yourself reaching another orgasm as Sae reaches over, hand gripping tightly around your throat, forcing you to look into his eyes.
“Your ass is mine, you understand?”
Your eyes roll back, nodding numbly. “Yes—oh my god—it’s yours!” And another wave comes, the coil in your abdomen snaps and you clamp down around the two men again.
Oliver continues snapping his hips into your cunt, a few seconds after, you notice his pace is a bit more feverish and out of focus. Sweat is dripping profusely down his face and he smirks. “Sorry, sweetheart, but I have to tap out soon.”
Sae’s palms rest on either side of your ass, kneading the flesh deeply. “Fuck—”
Oliver quickly pulls out and streams of white warm spurts hit across your face as Sae fills you up from behind. You can feel him twitch inside you and tighten his hold on your body as he spills out his last drops inside. For a while, the three of you stayed stationary, labored breathing, and mirror foggy from the long session. It’s not until when Sae pulls out that Oliver decides to also get up.
Sae grabs a warm towel from a small fridge in the corner of the room and begins cleaning up your face while Oliver adjusts your dress straps back on. You couldn’t ignore how soft and tender both men are acting despite what just happened. You sigh in relief, your heart and senses calming down from the drug and your last orgasm, as you struggle to stand.
“Next week,” You murmur, looking at them with doe eyes, between heavy breathing. “Will you guys be here again next week?” 
Maybe you can endure your shitty office job if they’re around.
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KINKTOBER TAGLIST (PART II)
@milkistoshi @mareonyan @saenora @blissblossom @wowonamo
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xxstargirlx-x · 27 days
Text
Theodore Nott Headcanons (as requested<3) (fluff)
As always, feel absolutely free to send requests for stories, headcanons or characters alike, don't even have to be Hogwarts characters<3 Enjoy!
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-School was never his strong suit. Whenever he doesn't understand a new topic, he will ask you for help after class. And even when he understands a topic, he will still ask you for "help". Every excuse to spend more time with you. He loves how your brow furrows in defeat when he plays dumb and you have to explain a concept to him for the 5th time. He's amazed at how patient you are with him.
-Let me tell you, this boy likes to EAT. Like a lot. An ungodly amount. He doesn't look like it (god, you're jealous of his metabolism) but he eats like he should be three times his size, always hungry. "Hey Theo, you hungry-" "Yes! Did you make something? Merlin, I love you. Give it, I'm starving." He ate an hour ago. Regardless, he jumps up like a giddy kid every time you feed him, chewing his food with the biggest smile possible.
-On the flip side, his cooking is pristine, better than yours you would say. Thank his Italian nonna for that, put that man in a kitchen and he throws down. It's your favourite thing to watch him cook, and he always pulls you into the kitchen, handing you a glass of wine and slow dancing with you to whatever Italian oldie is playing.
-Talking about his nonna, he loves to take you to Italy over the summers. He shows you around his town happily, proudly introducing everyone to his gorgeous girlfriend. You're a local now, they love you! "Ah bella, Theo's girlfriend, si? Welcome back!" You get the full experience when you're with him, a view into his life when the stress of school and the UK falls away. Aperol Spritz at sunset, his Nonna's homemade Limoncello and a good novel by the pool and romantic picnics by the water.
-One thing. Theodore Nott is judgey as hell. He doesn't do it on purpose. But when he witnesses a peer embarrass himself or god forbid that one time Blaise cut his spaghetti before eating them, he can't control himself. His facial expressions are the most comical thing in the world. "Y/n, did you just see that? We both saw it, no? Holy fuck, I'm gonna pass out." Dramatic much, Theo?
-I'm sorry, but he is the kind of guy to throw up a gangsign in a group photo. He thinks it looks sick. You haven't had the heart to tell him it doesn't. Lucky for him, he looks good no matter what.
-Every time he messes up, he straight up runs away from you, crying laughing as you chase him. He made a terribly dirty joke that was highly inappropriate given the situation? One look from you tells him enough and he's zooming through the school hall, running for his life, you on his tail. He's a runner, he's a trackstar! Could he overpower you physically if necessary? Yes. Still, is he running faster than you thought humanly possible whenever you're about to smack him over the head? Also yes. Kachow!
-His love language is being interested in the things you are interested in. "You like that book? Let me borrow it. Well, 'cuz I wanna read it too, baby." Let's just say he is traumatised by some of the books you read. "Baby, this is literal written porn??? You read this stuff?" *Smirks*
-He loves taking you out to parties. Even if you were a homebody before dating him, now you are at every house party imaginable. Again, he loves showing you off and getting absolutely wasted is his excuse to be all over you on and off the dancefloor.
-Before he met you, staying in on a Saturday was unimaginable to him. Even though he still loves to go out, he's become a sucker for movie nights with his beloved. You started the tradition, a cozy blanket fort, good snacks and a movie you could both agree on, and he fell in love with it. You'll be having a bad day in class when a text finds you. "Movie night tonight?:)" Oh, how it sweetens your day. You both look forward to it every time.
-He's a sucker for a good head scratch. Like a puppy, you say to him every time. "Nuh, uh. If I was a dog, I'd be a big one, a scary one." "Of course, Theo." He nods proudly before dropping himself on your lap, melting into your touch.
-He loves you more than life, more than himself, but what kind of man would he be if he was all sappy and sweet about it all the time? No, he shows his love by picking on you lovingly, by being a meanie in the sweet way only he knows how to be.
-Spends all him money on you, happily. Even if you tell him you don't want him to, expect your favourite snacks, books or fresh roses on your bed more often than not. Oh and did I mention he loves taking you out? Because he does. Whenever a peer calls him a simp, he's proud. "If prioritizing your girl and treating her right makes you a simp, then call me a simp. I don't give a shit." -Theodore Nott, 2024
-Super light sleeper. Don't think you can sneak under the covers when he's napping without him noticing, he'll have his arms around you and his face in the crook of your neck in a millisecond.
-Thinks you're the prettiest girl in the world. Like no joke, he can't wrap his head around the fact that you just have the audacity to exist looking like that, and that you're his girl. Must be wizardry! Of course you're his Lockscreen and he uses every excuse to show off what he believes to be the most gorgeous photo ever taken of you. "Oh, what time it is? Check it yourself, here." *Pokes out his opened Lockscreen to whoever asked him for the time.* "That's my girlfriend btw. 😎"
Hope you enjoyed this tomfoolery, BYEEEE ily<3
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nichoswag · 7 months
Note
Hey Rei! I've been thinking for a while if I should send a prompt request or not, but here we go. 😂 (Hope you'll like it lol)
So my idea is #15 "Please stop flirting with me, my parents are right there." with a fake dating trope. And the idol who first came to my mind was Heeseung, I feel like he would match this well! You're free to decide the atmosphere of the story, I, personally was just feeling funny haha. I hope you'll have fun with this request! <33
flirt . lee heeseung
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prompt: "please stop flirting with me, my parents are right there."
pairing: fake bf!heeseung x gn reader
warnings: fake dating au, lots of flirting, kissing, teasing, like one light innuendo
song rec: into it - chase atlantic (warning: song is extremely sexual)
a/n: hii marine! admittedly i did push this to the top of my list because i feel a bit more inclined to complete reqs from my moots ♡ sorry it took so long, but i did have a lot of fun with this request!! i hope you enjoy :))
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if someone were to ask you how you got in this situation, you honesly couldn't say you have a clue.
walking into your childhood friend's parents' house hand-in-hand with him, you're still questioning how you got here.
well, to put it simply, you and heeseung grew up together. you even went to college together, and now you're back home together. but, you're now actually together.
at least, that's what you've told both of your parents, after constant nagging and pleading from both ends for you both to date someone. so, your solution was to pretend you're both dating each other.
now, you're shaking due to the nerve of the roles you're both about to play.
heeseung squeezes your shaking hand that's placed in his, sending you a reassuring smile. "hey, it's fine. we're only doing this to get them off our backs."
your heart flutters at his smile and the kind action.
mrs lee opens the door for the both of you. "____! it's so nice to see you," she exclaims, pulling you into a hug.
"moooom," heeseung whines. "what about me?"
she chuckles. "oh, hush. i haven't seen ____ in years."
as she welcomes the two of you into her house, you realize how natural this feels after all. besides, you and mrs lee have always been close, as your moms are best friends, so she's like a second mom to you anyway.
heeseung leads you through the wide hall into the large dining room. sending you a wink, he pulls back your chair for you. you send him a weird look as you sit down, but he ignores it and pushes your chair in, taking a seat next to you.
diagonal from where you and heeseung sit, your fathers are arguing about who's lawnmower does the better job. you chuckle at their pettiness as your mother chastises your dad for picking a fight over such a stupid thing. things haven't changed at all.
you're immersed in a conversation with heeseung until someone takes a seat across from you. it's heedo, your fake boyfriend's older brother.
and your childhood crush.
there's a girl sitting next to him, and they're holding hands, just as you and heeseung were a few minutes ago.
heeseung seems to notice your curiosity, because he leans closer to speak into your ear. "that's yeri, heedo's girlfriend." he takes your hand again and squeezes it. "are you okay? we can leave if you're uncomfortable," he offers, knowing about your long-term crush on his brother.
you shake your head. "i'm alright. just surprised."
he nods, understanding. "are you over him? i mean, you've dated since you last saw him."
"i think so, actually." you smile, nostalgia hitting you suddenly. "he was my childhood crush, so i guess it's just weird for me. it's not like i haven't seen him with a girl before."
you remember the time you saw him making out with a girl at a party him and heeseung had thrown in high school while yours and their parents were on a trip. you'd then gotten drunk on wine to the point of throwing up, and heeseung had held your hair back half the night at your house while you threw up.
then, when he brought his first girlfriend for dinner with his parents. heeseung had invited you over, not knowing he was there with his girlfriend, and you'd spent the evening crying in his room while he held you.
heeseung grins at you, seemingly remembering those nights too. you feel eternally grateful to have someone like him in your life.
he presses a kiss to your temple, seemingly trying to keep up the act. "you hungry, cutie?"
you nod shyly, blushing as he ruffles your hair. "starved."
within a few moments, heedo and heeseung get up to help their mother bring plates of food from the kitchen and set them in the middle of the large dining table.
yeri stares at you across the table. you feel self-conscious as she eyes you up and down, as if she's analyzing how big of a threat you are to her.
heeseung catches a glance at her eyeing you as he sits down, sighing as he realizes what's going on. he glares back at her, and she just smiles innocently, fixing a napkin on her lap. she glares at you as she kisses heedo on the cheek.
"what's her problem?" heeseung whispers in your ear.
you shrug. "i have no clue. I've literally just been sitting here."
he rolls his eyes. "i hope she doesn't cause a scene."
dinner does end up going without a hitch. besides a few more glares from yeri when heedo asks about your experiences in university and settling into your new job, you feel at ease. even when yours and heeseung's parents ask how you two began dating, you're able to answer the questions just as the two of you practiced earlier.
you notice heeseung looking at you with an expression you don't recognize throughout dinner. almost like admiration, except his eyes are fiery. you just think he's playing the role of your loving boyfriend.
mrs lee brings out a tray of sweets. "anyone hungry for dessert?" she practically sings.
heeseung grins and leans close. "mine's already here." he places a hand on your knee.
you choke on your own spit, and he pats your back. "please stop flirting with me, my parents are right there," you whisper-yell into his ear as everyone stares at you both.
your hear giggles, and you realize everyone must have heard what you said.
your mother smiles sweetly at the both of you. "don't worry, we're not judging you. the two of you are adorable."
you blush furiously, and heeseung ruffles your hair again.
yeri huffs from across the table, and you realize she must be jealous of the attention you two are receiving as a couple, not insecure of her relationship. she busies herself with fixing heedo's collar aggressively.
he grabs her hands as the attention turns to them. "what is your problem? you've been like this all evening. can't you just act normal?"
heeseung stifles a laugh from beside you and you nudge him with your elbow. "what's funny?"
he leans over to whisper in your ear for the third time tonight. "just that they're seemingly an actual couple and they get along worse than us."
you giggle, and yeri turns to glare furiously at you. "what the fuck is funny, you callous bitch?"
there are gasps all along the table, and heeseung nearly stands up defensively before you grab his arm to pull him down.
"don't think i haven't noticed you flaunting you perfect boyfriend all night." she laughs mockingly. "you're like a three. how did you manage to pull that guy?"
"get out." heedo glares at his probably soon-to-be-ex girlfriend, motioning towards the hall that leads to the front door.
"what?" her tough front cracks as she wears a scared face. "heedo-"
"i said. get. out." he gets up, pulling her up with him and marching toward the hallway.
you can hear the yelling and screaming still. "i've told you before, she's like a fucking SISTER to me! who are you to talk to my family like that?" "SHE WAS TAUNTING ME WITH HER PERFECT GUY-"
eventually, the screaming is muffled as it seemingly continues outside.
mrs lee gains her composure and proceeds with setting out the dessert. "kids these days are so dramatic. minus my ____, of course. you're an angel."
you smile at her. "thanks, mrs lee."
her smile falters. "honey, why don't you just call me 'mom?' i'll be your mother-in-law eventually, anyway."
you nearly choke again, and heeseung stifles a laugh. "just go with it," he mouths.
you smile again. "sure, mom. thank you for the dessert."
dinner wraps up rather quickly after the dramatic scene. heedo returns at the very end, looking very disheveled as you and heeseung make your way up the long spirals stairs to his room, where you'll both be staying the night.
heeseung lets out a long laugh after he closes the door to his childhood bedroom, nearly slumping against it. "that was a train wreck. heedo has terrible taste in girls."
you giggle. "he should've just chosen me when he had the chance."
heeseung's smile fades. "no, i rather like having you to myself."
your feel a twinge of pain in your heart at the way his smile drops. "hee, i was just kidding. i told you, i'm over him. i think i like someone else now, anyway."
the smile that began to creep onto his face at the first part of your speech drops again as he hears the last part. "oh." his shoulders slump, face looking dejected.
you catch his face in your hands as he turns away from you. "hee, do you really not realize who i'm talking about?"
his eyes widen in realization. "you mean..."
"yes, i mean i like you, lee heeseung." you grin at him.
before you realize it, he's taking you into his arms and picking you off the ground and you're spinning through the air. you both giggle as you come back onto the ground.
now flustered, you look away from him "so..."
"i like you too, ____. i thought that was pretty obvious." he ruffles your hair yet again, pulling you close by your waist.
you giggle. "it kinda was."
he looks at you for a moment, gentle gaze flickering between your eyes and lips. "can i kiss you?"
you nod, and he leans down to connect your lips gently. you wrap your arms around his neck, one hand resting on the nape of his neck, and the other tangling in his hair.
he pulls away and you lean your head against his chest, breathless.
"fuck, i think i might be in love with you." the words leave your mouth before you can even think about what you're saying.
he smirks down at you as you meet his eyes, yours wide. "yeah? what makes you think that?"
you inhale sharply. "you've been there for me through everything since we were kids. my heart hurts when you're sad, i feel angry when you're angry, and i'm happy when you are. also, i always find myself missing you when you're not around. i think that's love."
he smiles, eyes shining brightly. "if that's the case, i love you too."
minutes later, you're settled in a pair of heeseung's clothes, waiting on his bed for him to come back from the bathroom.
as he enters the room, your heart races. you've spent nights together as friends, no biggie. but now, it's the real deal.
he sprawls out on the bed beside you and turns to look at you. "cuddle?" he asks, opening his arms. you practically dive into them as they wrap around your body tightly.
you realize you feel safe here. that to you, there's never been any place safer than in his arms.
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©nichoswag | do not copy my work or repost onto any other platform.
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octoberautumnbox · 3 months
Text
Aquamarine
Soloist Lee Chaeyeon & Male Reader
Word count: 1.7k
Categories/tags: smut, shower, glass, camera/picture, standing sex, standing doggy, creampie, fluffy (at least thats the plan)
a/n: birthday piece for the second half of IZ*ONE'S HoneyWaterz! she gets like one fic a year y'all are missing out. and as usual (lol) no proofread no beta im sorry i know its terrible
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The water glistens against her skin, shining as it falls down her back. The city lights seem so far below you like you're in the clouds yourself. The smoke doesn't reach up here, nor the hustle and bustle of the metropolis below. It's only you and her.
Click, click, click. Find her through your camera's lens, taking perfect shot after perfect shot. She turns around and smiles a divine smile at you, and you suspect that she's stopped posing a long while ago; now, she's just glad to find you nearby.
She paddles adorably over to the shallow end of the pool and takes a seat. "Thank you for taking me out like this, babe. I love you so much. Everything is perfect."
She wrings her hair carefully and looks up over the moon, enjoying the cool breeze of tropical air on her face and chest. Click.
"Ugh, stop it," she giggles. "I wasn't ready. Delete that one."
You chuckle and place your camera on a dry, flat surface and join her in the pool. The water is warm between your toes, and you accept the welcome by sitting down in it right next to her.
You try to put your arm around her shoulder, but she shrugs it off cutely. "Don't, you idiot," she scolds lovingly, "I'm all wet."
Sulking away playfully, never mind your lightly damp Hawaiian shirt, you respond. "Wow, calling me an idiot just for trying to love you. I knew it, you've just been using me all this time..."
She laughs her signature laugh, painting the skyline of your heart in vibrant tones of aquamarine. She takes your hand and pulls slowly, bringing your arm around her once more.
"You're gorgeous, you know that? Everything about you is perfect." Place a hand on her cheek and bring her gaze over to yours. "How'd I end up with someone as breathtaking as you?"
"Shut up, babe..." she chuckles lightly as she places her hand over yours. "You know I fell for you first."
Close your eyes gently as the gravity of your hearts draw your lips together. You find her halfway through the darkness, but of course you did. When has she ever let you down?
The kiss you share is slow, respectful. You ask for permission from each other wordlessly, giving and taking just a tiny bit more from each other's love with every singular peck.
She breaks the kiss gratefully. As you open your eyes you're met with a goddess, ethereal and alluring. And she's all yours.
Without her forehead leaving yours, she whispers to you, "Let's go inside, babe, I'm getting cold."
~~~
Pull her by her waist into the shower enclosure and take her lips again. She strips you of your Hawaiian shirt, now soaked, and tosses it out of the glass cubicle. Her arm wraps around your neck, while her free hand finds the shower handle.
The showerhead comes to life, and warm water falls onto your back. Chaeyeon slips her fingers under your waistband and pulls down, taking away your last bits of clothing and relieving you of the growing pressure in your shorts.
You do the same, pulling off her dripping wet bikini bottom. Without ever breaking the kiss, she kicks them away and takes your hands onto her plump and firm ass. She moans lightly at your touch, music to your ears.
As much as you want to keep them there, you know there's more you have to do first. Break the kiss for just a moment, and see your girlfriend out of breath.
Grabbing the hem of her top, you pull up. She raises both arms to help you out, knowing that this also gives you the best view of your favorite part.
The wet piece of fabric moves up past her chest, and her beautiful tits bounce free from their containment. You keep pulling until the bikini top clears her head and finally her arms, and then you toss them out of the cubicle and shut the door.
She wraps her arms around your neck again. Grip her ass cheeks and pull her towards you, savoring her firm behind while you force your cock between her thighs.
She moans cutely at the sensation of your head right at the entrance of her heat. You kiss her again, torridly this time, and she returns your affections hungrier, more impatient, less quietly than earlier.
She pulls you even closer, pressing her soft breasts onto your chest, and the feeling could not be more heavenly. You know she's doing this on purpose, and so you respond in kind by giving her a smack on her butt cheek, forcing it to jiggle. As she's groaning into your mouth as a reflex, you leave her at a loss for a more heavenly moment.
Chaeyeon finally frees your lips, and the both of you take a deep breath. You can't get enough, though, and bring her over to the glass pane nearest to you.
"You're so fucking hot..." She traces all over your body with her fingertips. "How do you want me, babe?" she asks courteously.
"You have to smile for the camera, sweetheart." Turn her around to face the glass, and wipe away the steam obstructing her view of outside. She spots your camera sat on a table, facing the pair of you, and she blushes and smirks devilishly as she catches wind of your plan.
"Naughty boy... Hurry up and take me." Chaeyeon bends over and gives you a clear view of her ass, and shows off her pink lower lips for your pleasure.
You make her lean on the glass pane with her forearms as you grab her by the hips. Always the gentleman, you don't keep her waiting. Pull her lips apart, hear her groan at the feeling, and, finally, push your hardened cock into her tight pussy.
"Fuck..." Click. The flash goes off in front of her, and she turns redder in her cheeks. "This is so fucking hot, babe..."
"Happy birthday, baby. You're getting a private photo book of tonight as one of your gifts. Smile your prettiest."
You feel her velvet walls clench lovingly around your cock. It isn't a challenge at all though, with her slick lubricating her insides, to pull out nearly all the way, and force yourself back into her core.
Relish the feeling of fucking the most beautiful woman in the world. Take pride in how she powerlessly surrenders herself to your will. With every thrust deep into her pussy, you show her that she'll only ever belong to you.
"Babe, harder... Please fuck me harder." You comply with her request, as you thrust forward you forcefully pull her back. Her ass meets your pelvis at every pump, producing a symphony of slaps and groans.
Click, click, click. The camera makes its presence felt as flashes fill the other side of the bathroom. Push your goddess of a girlfriend harder against the glass, and she lets out a loud "ahhhh" as her nipples and breasts are squished onto the cold surface.
"Right there, babe, keep fucking me just like that..." Her walls only get tighter as your cock splits her apart. The sounds of her pleasure fill the bathroom as you bring her closer and closer to climax.
"I love you... so... fucking much, babe..." you mutter next to her ear. You can tell she's losing control of herself, she answers only in moans of ecstasy at the rough fucking she's receiving.
Hook her leg under your arm, raise it for the camera. Click, click. The view of her pussy being violated by your cock is crystal clear for the camera to capture. Click. Chaeyeon screams in pleasure as you reach new depths in the lewd position she finds herself in. Click. Her face is smushed against the glass with how hard you're pushing her. Click, click, click. Her nipples grow stiffer against the clear pane, spurring her on and on towards her eventual release.
"Sweetheart, you still good?" She can't answer, you know she can't. Just one look and you can tell she's long gone: her head thrown back, eyes rolled into the back of her skull, no regard for whatever she might be saying anymore.
Figure she's had enough. Conclude her long day with a bang. Give her a high note to end a perfect celebration. Better yet, make her sing the high note herself.
You grow more ravenous with your hold on her. "You know... One of your gifts... a whole photo book... of just tonight." Click. You thrust into her sex more roughly, chasing your high as you force her to reach hers. She can't defy you, and you know she won't. She's yours.
Her climax comes to her like an earth-splitting bolt of lightning. All at once, a guttural scream rips through her throat, click, streaks of her cum spray onto the glass she's pressed against, click, she stumbles as her legs give out underneath her, click, click, and her walls grip you in a desperate attempt to prolong her unholy pleasure as much as she can, click.
"I'm cumming, baby... Happy birthday--!!!" With a deep groan you shoot your cum into her womb, making sure every spurt stays in and takes. Her walls apply a heavenly amount of pressure on your cock, milking you for more, and you give her exactly what she wants. With every spurt of your hot cum into her abused snatch Chaeyeon screams louder yet, click, begging in gibberish for something she herself doesn't even know anymore.
You realize she's full up when your cum overflows from her pussy and down her thigh. She's taking heavy breaths now, and your wits are slipping away from you.
~~~
You find yourself sat on the cold tiled floor of the shower. Warm water still falls from the showerhead and onto the pair of you. Chaeyeon is taking her sweet time filling her lungs with air and steadying her breathing. Her head's leaned onto your shoulder, so you push her hair aside to give her a kiss on her forehead.
"I love you, sweetheart. You might not have heard me earlier, but happy birthday."
She can only respond in deep breaths and scratchy hums. She brings her lips back over to yours, last kiss before getting dressed for bed. And you know that meant "I love you too."
a/n: yknow i should just stop planning fics at this point lmao. anyways, happy birthday our feather chaeyeon!!!
732 notes · View notes
landosjpg · 2 months
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‘tis the damn season | ln
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the one where you go back to your hometown just to end up in lando's bed.
lando norris x gender-neutral!reader
word count: ~1.3k
warnings: ex-bf!lando, little bit of angst & fluff, implied smut
note: part 2 of this blurb series i have going on rn, it’s not proofread so there might be some spelling mistakes!
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you looked at the screen of your phone absolutely perplexed, reading the simple conversation over and over again.
"heard you're back in town?"
"i'm sorry, who's this?
"lando."
you couldn't believe that was actually happening.
it had been years since you and lando had last seen each other, or even talked. growing up in the same town, you had been friends since early childhood, and you had grown together with your group of friends.
you also happened to date him for a year before you had decided to move to L.A for your studies, and with him also making his move up to f1, you had decided to call it quits.
and when you left, you never heard of him again.
you had been out of the country for a little over five years, and had never came back til that very christmas. flights from california to england were not only expensive, but also a lot of time; so you had never found yourself in the right state of mind to go back to your hometown, having your family and friends visit you instead some times.
from what your friends had told you, lando had lost contact with everyone in your old friend group, so how on earth did he even findd out?
"my parents told me, they saw your mum at the store yesterday."
the answer to your question came as he double texted at the lack of a reply from your side. you sighed, not sure where he was going with all that.
"just came back a few days ago."
"are you free tonight? haven't seen you in forever."
straight to the point, classic lando.
"can't, i'm staying with my parents. they probably want to have dinner together."
you knew it wasn't a great excuse, but you hoped he would accept it and move on with his life.
part of you wanted to accept his invitation, it had been so long since you had last seen him. as you looked at your screen, you reminisced your relationship with him.
you had dated other people during those years, but even on the other side of the world, you sometimes thought no one would ever make you feel the way he used to do, no one would even know you the way he did.
the rational part of you knew it wasn't a great idea. in the end, you were leaving again in just a few weeks. and you didn't want to go back to your new life with the "what would've been..?" question lingering on your mind.
୨୧
you knew lando could be persuasive. but you thought he wouldn't have much of an effect in you after so many years.
silly you.
he had convinced you to come over to his place in the matter of a few minutes, claiming that his parents were out of town for the weekend and he would appreciate some company.
you parked your car between your old school and the town's church, the place where you and lando would usually meet when you were younger.
sighing, you left your car and started walking the cold streets that led to his house.
the same path you used to follow every other day a few years ago, but this time you weren't sure what was waiting for you there. and it was too late to retreat when you knocked on the door and a smiling lando welcomed you inside from the other side of the door.
he looked different.
more mature, and definitely a lot more handsome than you remembered.
he had ordered something for you two to eat, and with a movie on the background, you talked for hours, time flying by without you even noticing.
you were sat on his couch, one bottle of wine gone during your joyful chatter; and with the alcohol getting to your head, you couldn't stop yourself from leaning into his body, sighing contently.
you looked up at him, a smile creeping up to your lips when you saw him staring back at you.
"what's with this?" you giggled, scratching his chin, amused at his attempt of growing a beard.
"hey," he pretended to be offended, poking on your side with his index, which made you squirm. "it's not that bad."
"i didn't say it was," you answered, "you look hot."
the words slipped out of your mouth before you could ever think about it, and a pink flush quickly painted your cheeks as you mentally slapped yourself.
"i'm sorry, i didn't mean to..." you tried to make the situation less awkward, but his hand cupped your cheek and forced you to look back at him again.
he was leaning into you, and your breath caught in your throat at the proximity between your faces. a deep, shaky breath left your lips as you looked into his piercing eyes.
"is this okay?" he asked, his voice low and husky. and fuck, was it inviting.
you nodded your head, not able to form a proper sentence, or even a word. and he broke the distance between your lips, crashing his mouth against yours in a soft, tender kiss.
you sighed against his mouth before you let you hands and lips do all the talking and soon he was guiding you into his room with his arms around your waist.
୨୧
a few hours later you found yourself walking back into his room, your hair messy as you put your clothes back on. he smiled at you from under the covers, having gotten in bed already.
you chuckled at the sight of him, tucked under the blankets with messy curls and sleepy eyes. and it reminded you of all the previous times you had spent with him in that very same bed, your heart growing fond of the sight before you.
"you're not staying?" his question caught you by surprise, making you stop gathering your things to turn to look at him.
"what?"
"you're not staying?" he repeated, as if you hadn't heard him the first time. but you were still as surprised.
"no," you simply mumbled, sitting on the edge of his bed to put your boots back on.
"come on, y/n," you felt his weigth shifting closer to you, his arm wrapping around your waist and his lips pressing a tender kiss on your hip, over your jeans.
it wasn't a good idea, spending the night with him. you knew that much.
"it's late and it's cold outside, you can leave in the morning," he added, not letting you reject his offer again.
and the softness of his voice with the puppy eyes he was giving you, could've made you do anything he asked for.
he smiled when you didn't reply, knowing that you weren't going to turn him down again. you rolled your eyes with a smile and changed into the shirt he was offering for you to be more comfortable.
his shirt.
and you knew you shouldn't have come to his house in the first place. you knew you shouldn't have slept with him and surely, you should've left instead of crawling back into his arms, letting the warmth of his body envelop you as you lied with your head on his chest.
because you knew you would leave again in only a few weeks; and having a taste of what could've been if you didn't run away years earlier would only lead to breaking your very own heart.
but you sighed and snuggled closer to him, nuzzling your face on his chest and allowing yourself to be his, just for the weekend.
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426 notes · View notes
nesillia · 9 months
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Got a Secret
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-> Summary: Rick isn’t sure how it happened. He doesn’t even know you that well — and yet it doesn’t stop him from lusting after you and falling into your tent together. The only way this’ll work, is if you can keep it a secret.
-> Pairing: S1! Rick Grimes x F! Reader
-> Rating: 18+
-> WC: 4.2k (you're welcome)
-> Warnings: p*rn with some plot, smut in the forms of: unprotected PinV, fingering (f), ass play (no anal), oral (m and f), kissing, sucking on fingers, cum play, orgasm denial, flirting, dirty talk, riding, sex in woods, multiple positions, pet names (babygirl, sir, baby, love), masturbation (m and f), perv! Rick, reader has small breasts bc I need validation okay, panty stealing and sniffing, dom! rick sub!reader, rick is cheating on Lori (sorry Lori), mdni, this was supposed to be a fwb situation but oops I accidentally made Rick fall in love 🤪
-> Notes: low key I think I outdid myself with this one, but come on. I couldn’t resist Rick Grimes. This is the full oneshot to the Drabble of Perv!Rick Grimes. honestly this is not proofread or beta'd. Please give it a reblog/comment if you enjoyed!
-> Taglist: @sinsandsweetness
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Rick’s not sure how it happened. 
The day he arrived at the quarry was simultaneously the best and worst day of his life. The world had ended in a fiery shit storm, but he had found his family amidst the rubble of the world. 
It was also the day he met you. The woman who haunts his every waking move, and his dreams when he finally manages to sleep. He doesn’t blame you, after all, how could he? He’s the one who is married, who has a child, and yet he’s also the one who lusts after you and sneaks looks when no one is paying attention. 
He’s the one who fists his cock almost nightly to the thought of you. He’s the one who fucks his wife, yet cries your name in his head. So really, he can’t blame you. Because you haven’t done anything with Rick. 
Sure, you give him a polite smile whenever you see him, have his back when Shane calls his ideas stupid. And yes, you helped stitch up his wounds when Lori couldn’t stomach it. But none of that warrants his salacious reactions towards you. 
And yet, here he is — silently opening his tent flap and slipping out. The creep to your tent is short, only a couple feet away from his own. And it’s serendipitous, the way your tent flap is open just enough for Rick to see in. 
Rick knows he shouldn’t be watching this. 
It’s wrong, perverted, and yet he can’t take his eyes off the writhing figure that is you. He hasn’t even known you that long — about a week, since he got to the quarry. And by God, his wife and child are sleeping in his tent mere feet away from where your tent is at. But Rick doesn’t care about that, not really. Because if he did, he wouldn’t be lusting after you – someone younger than him by at least five years. He wouldn’t be watching the way your hands are palming your petite breasts. And he certainly wouldn’t be unzipping his pants and shoving his fist into his boxers, wrapping his hand around his engorged cock. 
Rick’s hand matches the tempo of your fingers as they thrust into you, into the very place Rick wishes his cock was. He can only imagine how warm, how tight, how wet your cunt is. His blue eyes stray from your body for only a second, making sure Dale – who is on guard – can’t see the wickedness that is transpiring. He can’t see your body as clearly as he wants to, given that it’s night and your emergency lamp is off, but he can see just enough. Just enough of the rapid motions of your hands, the way your back arches off the ground as you hit a particular sensitive spot. If he strains his ears, he can even hear the raspy but quiet moans that fall from your plush lips. 
Rick grunts lowly, shimming his pants down his thick thighs and freeing more of his cock. His hand twists around the hairy base of his cock, before sliding up the engorged shaft and tightening at the mushroomed head. He watches as you push your fingers even deeper, wondering how many you have inside you – wondering what the velvety walls of your pussy would feel like if his fingers were inside you. 
Rick’s pace quickens at the same time your breath stutters – your fingers going impossibly deeper while your free hand squeezes the flesh of your breasts tightly. And then he’s cumming, at the same time he can see fluid gush between your fingers. He watches as you slump back, slowly – gingerly – bringing your fingers out of your cunt. He can hear the squelch, and he bites his lip to stop another groan from falling past. 
He shuts his eyes, gritting his teeth as he tucks himself into his soil boxers, and he’s going through the motions when you suddenly whip around, eyes meeting his. Rick’s eyes widen impossibly, pale cheeks reddening as his mouth falls open. 
“I –.”
You smile at him, raising onto your knees and holding out your hand. 
With a sultry smirk, you ask, “Do you wanna come in?”
And Rick has never moved faster in his life to crawl through your half-opened tent flap. 
That is the first night Rick Grimes cheats on his wife, and it’s not the last. 
It happens again, and again, and again. 
Fucking you is like an addiction. Rick can’t get enough of your sweet moans, and almost every night he finds himself in your tent. Lori – everyone – is none the wiser. And Rick plans to keep it that way, which is why, when you start flirting out in the open – around the others – he immediately puts a stop to it. 
You’re standing too close – close enough that he can smell rose oil you’ve put on yourself. His wife is mere feet away, tending to Carl. Rick looks down at you, neutrality seared into his face. But if anyone looked at his eyes closely, they’d see the lust and anger mixing together in his irises. He whispers low to you, gruff voice barely loud enough for you to hear. 
“Not now, Y/N.”
You pout, “‘M just makin’ conversation, Rick. It’s so boring out here,” Rick can hear Lori’s footsteps as she walks closer towards him. “Don’t you wanna have fun?”
“Who’s havin’ fun?” Lori chirps, southern drawl lilting in her voice. Rick sees the barely concealed scowl on your face when you look towards his wife. He smirks to himself, bringing Lori into his arms. His cock twitches in his jeans at the fire in your eyes. 
“Was just tellin’ Y/N that tonight I’m gonna be in the woods, goin’ through the traps,” Rick helpfully supplies. 
“And you think that’s… fun?” Lori asks, incredulity in her voice. 
“Oh, yeah,” Rick laughs, looking into your eyes – begging you to get the hidden meaning behind his words – before he’s leaning down and giving his wife a kiss. You walk away after that, and then it’s just a waiting game. 
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Rick’s been in the woods surrounding the camp for about ten minutes now, waiting for you to show. The darkness of the night makes it hard to see, but he’d be able to hear the crunching of leaves if you were coming. So far, he hasn’t heard anything but the low croon of an owl. 
She ain’t comin’, he thinks, disappointment searing its’ way into his chest and rooting deep within his heart. Why is he so disappointed? He has a wife, and this is wrong. But he’s genuinely started to enjoy your company after the sex, enjoyed listening to you ramble on about your past life. Enjoyed the clandestine smile you give him. There’s a lot of things he enjoys about you, he realizes. 
The crackle of leaves being crushed brings him out of his thoughts. And he’s thankful, because he is so not ready to unpack what this all means for him and you. A minute later, someone is launching themselves at him and the only reason they aren’t dead on the ground is because he gets a whiff of that motherfucking rose oil.
“Thought you wouldn’t come,” he mumbles, cupping the back of your head. He tilts your head up so he can look at you, and although he can’t see much, he can see the way your eyes sparkle. 
“Just wanted to make you suffer a lil’, is all,” you shyly admit. He crooks a brow. 
“Oh? Why’s that, babygirl?” 
He feels the way your knees knock together at the pet name, and it’s all he can do not to just take you right now. 
“You wouldn’t pay attention to me,” you whine, placing your hands on Rick’s belt, tugging him closer. He captures your lips in a passionate kiss, one hand on the back of your neck while the other tilts your jaw upwards towards him. Your lips taste like they always do; like the sweetest of fruits, and something uniquely you. If there’s one thing Rick will never get tired of, it’s kissing you. 
Kissing you is like breathing fresh air to him, it relaxes him and lets him get out of his head, if only for a little while. When he’s alone, he’s wracked with guilt of what you two are doing, but the minute he tastes you… it’s like that all vanishes. 
You press your lips harder to his, and trail your hand down to the tented fabric of Rick’s jeans. He groans low against your lips when you cup your hand over the sizeable bulge, giving it a squeeze. Rick licks the inseam of your lips, thrusting his tongue in immediately when you open. 
“Rick…,” you moan wetly, neediness tinged in your voice. 
“I know, baby, just be patient. Haven’t had you all day,” he whispers, using the hand that’s on your jaw to trail down to your breasts, palming there. 
“And whose fault is that?” you grumble, pulling your mouth away from his. 
Rick doesn’t answer you, but he spins you around and pushes you against the hard bark of a tree. You grunt upon impact, but you’re not given a chance to complain because suddenly Rick is quite literally ripping your plain red shirt off of your chest, exposing your pert breasts to the chilly air of the forest. 
“Hey!” you frown, huffing dramatically. It’s not the end of the world – that was the shirt you had arrived in at the quarry, and it desperately needed thrown away. And Rick knows that, so he just smirks impishly at you in response to your indignation. 
“Won’t need that on with what ‘M gonna do to you, babygirl,” Rick utters. 
“What’er you gonna do, sir?” you ask, eyes impossibly wide with lust.
Rick bends at the waist, lining his mouth to your clavicle, where he places an open-mouthed kiss to the skin. He breathes you in, closing his eyes and relishing in the fact that he can have you like this. You have so much trust in him – trust to keep everyone safe, but most importantly, you trust him to make sure no Walkers come up while he’s giving you the best pleasure of your life. 
And Rick loves it, the inexplicable trust you have in him. He gets high off of it, if he’s being honest. 
Rick trails wet kisses down your clavicles, stopping to trace his tongue around your areola. You arch into his mouth, hands coming up to his shoulders while a shuddery mewl leaves your delicate lips. 
“Please…”
Rick answers your plea by wrapping his hot mouth around your nipple, sucking the pert bud and gently grazing his teeth on it – just how he knows you like it. His left hand comes up to roll and play with your other breast. Your reaction is palpable, a loud whimper leaving your lips. It’s so loud in fact that Rick grunts around your nipple and raises a hand to clamp over your mouth. 
“Gotta be quiet, babygirl, otherwise I’ll stop. Want me to stop?” 
You promptly shake your head, pushing your chest further into him. Rick chuckles, going back to suckling your wet nipples while his free hand runs down your stomach, toying with the waistband of your leggings. He finagles his pinkie under the material, so so close to where he knows you want his fingers. 
Rick laves his tongue over your nipple, pulling the flesh into his teeth before releasing with an audible pop.
He skims his lips on the skin above the small swell of your breast, before he lowers gradually to his knees. His lips trace the skin over your stomach, occasionally running his tongue along the salty skin. 
“Think you can be quiet f’me, baby?” he asks, to which you nod. 
Rick releases your mouth, and shimmies your tight leggings and panties down. 
“Step out,” he commands, although he does help you out of the offensive material. He is a gentleman, after all. 
When your clothes are off, he ruffles through your leggings to acquire your panties. He brings the sodden material to his nose, inhaling deeply before groaning low in his throat. 
“Rick, please touch me,” you cry, shaking his shoulder with a trembling hand. “And take off your clothes, ‘s not fair that you’re fully dressed.” 
Rick sighs like he’s in heaven, but he stuffs your panties in his back pocket before adhering to your request. He slowly – much too slowly for your liking – unbuttons his police overshirt, shrugging it off his shoulders before raising his arms to remove his white tee underneath. He leaves his pants on, because he knows after he’s done devouring your pussy you’ll want to remove them. It’s one of your favorite parts, removing his police belt with a wanton gleam in your eyes, and then undoing his pants. 
Rick rubs his hands up your thighs, curving to cup the back of your ass. He smirks and spreads your cheeks, dipping a finger to graze ever so slowly at your back hole. 
“Should I fuck here?” he asks, lips falling open at the way your hole clenches in anticipation. He trails the hand down to where your pussy is, poking at the soaked entrance. 
“Or here?” 
“T-There, sir! Fuck, right there please!” you whine, chest heaving. 
Rick needs no other demand, and he dives right in, nose bumping your clit while he suckles on the folds of your cunt, running his tongue along your dripping opening. He hears every little moan you make, feels the way your fingers dig into his shoulders, and he hears the thump as your head falls back into the bark of the tree. 
Rick throatily groans as the taste of you hits his tongue, and he presses his face ever closer, raising one of your legs to rest on his shoulder so he can go even deeper. He licks and licks until you let out a full body shudder, back arching almost painfully. 
Your arousal coats his tongue, and when he can’t take anymore, he thrusts the muscle into your tight heat, curling and sucking as much as he can. His nose nudges your clit with every movement of his sinful mouth, and it just makes the pleasure that much more delicious. His free hand comes to press against the swollen nub, rubbing and gliding your slickness mixed with his saliva around. 
His tongue croons into you, rubbing along the walls of your pussy before he drags his hot muscle to envelope your throbbing clit. He presses his tongue against the nub, licking and sucking, his nose pressed into your pubic mound. 
“You taste fucking fantastic, babygirl,” Rick moans, completely drunk off your pussy. He pushed a finger into you without warning, causing you to let out a wanton moan. He pumps the digit in and out at a rigorous pace, wet noises filling the quiet air. 
Rick trails his tongue over the outside of your folds, sucking a hickey into the crease where your thigh meets your pubic mound, all while he pushes another finger into you. Finally, he gives attention to your swollen nub, suckling it into his mouth. 
You grind your cunt against his face, and Rick can tell you’re close. And by God, he doesn’t want to stop eating your pussy like it’ll be his last meal, but he does need to punish you for earlier. And so, with a quick suck on your clit, he releases you. 
“Rick! W-What are y-you…?” you cry, tears wobbling in your eyes. Rick cooes, rising to his knees and skimming his thumbs along the underside of your eyes, collecting the tears and wiping them away. 
“Don’t cry, baby. But you gotta be punished, yeah?” 
“For w-what?” 
“Earlier, remember? You can’t do that in front of the others,” he chides, leaning down to give you a quick kiss, your tangy slick still on his lips. You mewl into his mouth. 
“Won’t do it again, sir,” you mumble, and Rick nods against your mouth. 
“Know you won’t, but you gotta suck my cock first, baby,” he says, pressing his hips into your abdomen and grinding so you can feel his straining erection. 
You nod eagerly, sinking to your knees and pawing at his belt and jeans, like you can’t wait to have his cock inside your pouty mouth. The thought makes Rick bark a quiet laugh, and he rubs the apples of your cheeks while you work as diligently as you can to get him undressed. 
“That needy for my cock to be in your mouth, babygirl?” 
“Yes, sir,” you say, drool dripping from your lips when his cock springs free from his boxers. You immediately take the tapered head into your mouth, suckling like it’s a lollipop. 
Rick throws his head back, bringing a hand to the back of your head to push you deeper onto his weeping cock. Your mouth is so hot, so tight, and it’s all Rick can do not to cum. Your tongue presses on the underside of his head, rubbing his frenulum and making Rick see stars. You trace the vein that runs from the thatch of hair at the base of his cock to the tip, while you bring your hands to cup the parts of him that you can’t suck into your awaiting mouth. Spittle drips down your chin, and Rick heaves a guttural cry as his hips spasm unwillingly deeper into you, gagging you. He immediately tries to pull out to check on you, but you moan and your eyes roll back and you press your face impossibly deeper, finally taking his whole cock into your mouth. Rick shudders, mouth parting in awe as you open your teary eyes to look at him. You grab his free hand – the one not fisted in your hair – and bring it to your throat, and Rick feels like he could die right then and there. 
He can feel the bulge of his cock in your throat as it gives way to accommodate the thick size. 
“Fuck, baby…” 
You pull off his cock, gasping for air. Your hand runs along the wet shaft, jerking him off up and down while you bring your lips to his balls, where you suckle and kiss the heavy weight like it’s a fucking God you worship. 
“Oh, fuck me,” Rick grunts, precum leaking out of his cock at a steady pace. You look up at him almost innocently, if it wasn’t for the shit eating grin on your lips. 
“That’s the idea, sir.” 
“Keep talkin’ like that and I ain’t gonna last long, baby. Come’ere, want you to ride me,” Rick huffs, pulling his cock away from your greedy hands and settling on the earthen ground. “Can you do that for me, baby?” 
You nod, and swing your legs so you’re straddling Rick, and without urging from him you’re lining his thick cock up with your pussy, and sinking down on him inch by inch. 
He groans loud at the same time you let out a mewl, pussy stretching to take in his cock. He can feel the flutter of your walls as they contract and relax, allowing more of your greedy cunt to swallow his cock. 
Rick looks down to where you’re connected when he finally bottoms out inside you, cock twitching in your soaked pussy. Your folds are stretched beautifully, a ring of your arousal circling the base of his cock and catching in his pubic hair when you rise minutely, letting the drag envelope both of you in a heady cloud of pleasure. 
You rise until only his head is inside your cunt, before slamming down and setting a rigorous pace of bouncing up and sinking down. The air steals from Rick’s lungs, and all he can do is whimper and grip your hips tight while watching anywhere he can. He doesn’t know where to focus – on your pert breasts jiggling ever so slightly, your face that’s screwed up in pleasure, or to where your cunt is swallowing his cock like it was made for him. 
“F-Fuck, sir, fuck!” you cry out, bouncing and bouncing. Your hands circle his neck, and you arch down onto him so his cock hits a different angle. Rick lays a hand on the small of your back, flexing his fingers and grasping the flesh tight. Your nails bite at the skin of his neck, but he doesn’t care. If Lori sees them, so be it. In the recesses of his mind, he thinks he should be more worried, but he fucking isn’t. You‘ve awakened something in him, and he won’t be letting you go, even if Lori were to find out. 
Your thighs burn deliciously, but Rick can tell you’re tiring out from the constant up and down, and so he flips so he’s on top, and raises your legs to his shoulders. 
“Keep ‘em there, baby,” he grunts, hovering over you and pulling his hips before stabbing them back into you. 
At this angle, you can almost feel him hit your cervix, and a wanton moan leaves your mouth. You don’t care that you’re being loud, and that it might attract Walkers. And from the look of Rick, he doesn’t care either. Rick’s eyes are closed, mouth open to let out little grunts and ‘fucks’ as he pumps his cock in and out of your drench pussy. The only sounds are the wet squelch every time his cock thrust back into your yawning hole, and the heavy breathing of both you and Rick. 
It’s positively sinful, and Rick craves even more. 
He doesn’t even think as he drops his head to rest on your sweaty neck when he says, “Fuck, love, you take me so f-f-fucking well.”
But you hear every word, and it makes your heart drop. You shudder, and not because of the overwhelming pleasure. You push Rick’s shoulders, so he can look at you. Your eyes are wide, mouth open. Rick can immediately tell that something is wrong. He stills inside you, brain trying to catch up with what could possibly be wrong. Your legs drop from his shoulders, but you keep them wrapped around his waist. 
He doesn’t hear movement from the surrounding forest, so he knows no one – Walker or groupmate – is coming. And then he replays what he just said and oh - oh fuck. 
“Do you mean that?” you whisper, eyes searching his for something. Rick swallows thickly, breathing rapidly quickening. Did he mean it? It is just a petname, but he’s never called you that… and it, it felt like more than just a silly name you throw out in the throes of passion. 
“‘S okay if you didn’t mean it, you have a wife and… a kid.” 
“I meant it,” Rick affirms, a serious gaze in his eyes. 
You look stunned, “ Y-You did?” 
“Yeah, I did. Is that a problem?” 
You smile a bit, a beautiful thing that affirms to Rick that yes, he did mean to call you that. And yes, he is in love with you. 
“What does this mean for us?” 
Rick isn’t sure. Does he tell Lori, or keep it a secret?
“‘M not sure, but we’ll figure it out. Together.” 
You nod, and your body relaxes against his. You lean up to give him a kiss on his earlobe, before you’re whispering. 
“Make love to me, Rick. Please?” 
Rick groans, letting his head fall into your neck again, where he sucks a mark that mixes pain with the pleasure, and he’s nodding. He resumes his pace, but it’s different this time. He’s not pistoning into you like his life depends on it, he’s sensually grinding his hips in a circle, hitting that sweet spot inside you with a delicate but firm touch. He kisses the curve of your shoulder, whispering sweet nothings and praises into your skin. You arch your back, crying out his name over and over. 
And then your pussy is tightening almost painfully against Rick’s, and you’re coming. 
“Fuck, Rick, I love you,” you mumble incoherently. 
“I know babygirl, I know,” Rick whispers into your skin, hips grinding a bit faster to chase his high. “I love you too.” 
It’s just another secret between you two, but Rick isn’t sure if he can keep this one. 
“Cum inside me, please, please,” you beg. And who is Rick to deny you? 
Rick pumps his hips once, twice, and then he’s spilling his hot white ropes inside you and painting your gummy walls with his spend. He stills, heaving a quiet breath through his nose before gingerly pulling out. 
Rick rests his forehead against yours, not minding when your fingers trail down between your bodies, and he can hear you play around in the cum that spills out of you. You bring a wet finger up to his lips, and without urging  Rick sucks the digit into his mouth, groaning at the taste of both you and him. His cock jumps, bouncing against your inner thigh. 
“Should we head back?” you whisper, one hand rubbing between Rick’s shoulders while the other runs through his damp hair. You press a kiss to his temple. 
“Probably.” None of you make a move to get up and dressed and returned, instead basking in each other's presence and wondering how the hell you’ll be keeping this a secret.
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hyypnotix-writes · 7 months
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Part 2
~ hiya! I'm really nervous about posting this, but I couldn't not at least try to give you a second part after the response the last one got! ~
~ I really appreciate everyone reading it and enjoying it as much as you did ..I hope this one doesn't ruin it for you! ~
~ I think this one's around 13k words. so again ..it's a long one, if you have nothing else to do! ~
~ there’s quite a lot of story before Alexia makes an appearance, sorry ..but she does eventually show up! ~
~ I promise to put more of her in the next part if any of you end up wanting one ~
~ I’m really worried this will disappoint a lot of you, but at least you still have the first part to go back to, if nothing else! ~
~ I really hope you're able to enjoy it even just a little bit, and thanks again for loving the first part so much! the response was very overwhelming and I've loved you all reaching out to tell me that you liked it ~
~ good luck! good bye xx ~
~ Part 1 ~
________________
One night.  
One perfect night.  
That’s all it took.  
One perfect night to throw your whole damn life into disarray.  
One perfect night, that’s lead to endless subsequent nights, spent tossing and turning on your own, replaying the memory over on a loop in your mind. It’s only been about a month, but it feels like an eternity.  
A never-ending, exhausting cycle of yearning and confusion.  
It was the most welcome distraction from your ex-boyfriend’s evil escapades, you’ve not really thought about him at all since. 
It should have set you free, broken you out of the chains of mundanity. It showed you a whole new world, a world of women. It gave you a new perspective on life. Unlocked a realm of brand-new possibilities all ready and waiting for you to venture, and yet, you don’t want to explore any of them.  
It's not that you haven’t tried.  
You’d have been an idiot to assume that it’s only her that can make you feel like this. That would be giving her an awful lot of credit. Yes, she was your first woman, but that didn’t mean that she needed to be your last. The way your mind and body reacted to her, maybe you could have been slightly gayer than you thought, but it doesn’t really look to be the case.  
A pair of lesbian sisters always seemed incredibly unlikely to you, and your sister’s already called dibs on the label. Maybe it’s the mere existence of your younger sister that eradicates the possibility of any real queerness in yourself. That’s probably how the handing out of sexualities works, right? 
It’s a working theory, and one that you seem to be proving the accuracy of.  
You’ve been to a few more clubs since your entanglement with the Spanish mystery. Only returning back to that specific one, once. It gave you a headache just stepping through the door. She was still everywhere in the room, her spirit living in the walls. You barely managed to stay inside for even a second before it became too much for you, sending your heart and mind racing.  
You took yourself back home, reminiscing every single kiss you’d shared with her on that fanciful journey back to her hotel together. Looking up at the floor she had been staying on, as you hastily walked past it on your own.  
Even the nightclubs that aren’t haunted by her ghost, haven’t yielded much greater success with you. 
You paid a visit to a smaller bar, a fair few nights after your perfect one, and had found a woman interested in you. More than interested. She was pretty, and friendly enough. She was flirty and bought you a few drinks. She didn’t try to play it weird by aiding you in your consumption of alcohol. There was no intriguing salt and lime foreplay. She was far more straightforward, far less irritating.  
Maybe that’s why it didn’t work. Maybe she was too plain. Maybe she was too simple and easy for you to understand. Or maybe it’s the fact that when she pressed herself against you in search of a kiss, an alarm bell rang out inside of your head. You suddenly found yourself all too aware that she was a woman, and you simply no longer wanted to follow through with your curiosities.  
It doesn’t help in your confusion, why the femininity of one woman can leave you feeling more certain of your straightness, while another’s femininity has you still helplessly pining after her.  
It’s not like you were under any illusion with the Spanish woman. You were entirely aware that she was also a woman, and it wasn’t off putting to you at all. You enjoyed her being a woman. She smelt nice, she tasted nice. Her body was beautiful, and her lips were soft, and it doesn’t make any sense that she’s allowed to put a yearning in you that no other woman is able to satisfy.  
That does seem very typical of her, though. She really was very cocky and frustrating.ᅠᅠ
Until she wasn’t, of course.  
Then, she was just sweet and considerate. Cautious and careful. Flirty and undemanding. She took you back to hers and she still had no expectations from you. She was still willing to let you walk away. Maybe you should have.ᅠᅠ
You knew even then that you should have.  
It was daft of you to follow after her. Foolish to lose yourself with her, spending the night together, giggling under the sheets. Sharing kisses as you drowned yourselves in each other. Learning her body, every mark, scar and freckle, and committing them all to your memory. Tracing her curves and her tattoos and discovering what it is that makes her tick.ᅠ
She was patient, and understanding, she wasn’t in a rush with you. She spent the whole night exploring with you. Studying your body, wanting to learn all the things you liked her doing, and the things you really liked her doing. She turned what could have been a terrifying, embarrassing, disaster of an experience, into the most incredible encounter of your life.  
She brought you more pleasure than your pathetic ex-boyfriend had ever managed to give you in your whole 5-year relationship, in less than 5 minutes of her having your clothes off. She had the most unholy of noises spilling from your lips with her fingers and tongue inside of you, and she wasn’t exactly quiet herself, in letting you know when you were doing the right thing with her.  
She was intoxicating, exhilarating. She was life-affirming.  
She’s a far more dangerous addiction to you than alcohol could ever manage to be. You’ve never been tempted by drugs before, but you can’t even imagine the high from them being able to compete against what she’s done to you.  
It was just one night.  
It was one perfect night.  
________________
Living back with your younger sister isn’t exactly where you saw yourself being at 26. Your London flat had started feeling a little too big for you, without a traitorous arsehole of a man invading your space. So, you invited her to move in with you, not wanting to have to give up your dream property just because he had decided to try ruining your life. You needed help with the rent, and she had gratefully accepted.  
You didn’t necessarily expect her to also invite her idiot new girlfriend into your home with her. That wasn’t really part of the deal, though you didn’t explicitly tell her that she couldn’t. You can’t really blame her. If you were able to spend every waking moment of your life with ‘A’ right beside you, you’d jump at the opportunity headfirst.   
It still doesn’t aid in the dispelling of your confusion. There’s no jealousy when you see them together. Her girlfriend does nothing for you, none of her girlfriends ever have. You both have decidedly different tastes in women. Your sister’s taste is entirely questionable, yours is perfection.  
You haven’t mentioned your Spanish predicament to your sister. She’d probably laugh at you for it, call you tragic, and embarrassing. Tell you everything you’ve already been telling yourself on repeat in your head. She wouldn’t be very helpful; she very rarely is. She’s your very annoying, smart-arse of a little sister, who couldn’t possibly give you any decent advice. She’s 2 years younger than you and she's an idiot.  
She’s not the one who’s still hung up on a stranger after over a month, though. It’s rarely taken her longer than 24 hours to get over someone she’s been with. She’s not the one who’s been questioning herself every night. She’s never questioned herself at all. You’re fairly certain her very first thought, straight out of the womb was about another woman.  
She didn’t really have to come out to the family at any point, she kissed her first girl when she was 8. Always been a bit of a Casanova, your sister. A walking stereotype of a lesbian. Short, brightly coloured, undercut hair, quite a few piercings, heavily tattooed. She’s obsessed with women’s football, always watching re-runs of ‘The L Word,’ and overwhelmingly insistent in trying to prove to you that Taylor Swift is also secretly gay.  
Your sister’s certainty in her own sexual identity isn’t something that’s ever irritated you before. Not when you were always so sure of yourself, too. You appreciated her confidence. It was admirable, given the way people can be with her. She’s your self-assured little sister, who isn’t great at confrontation. So, you support her whenever anyone tries to tear her down.  
Now, however, this too-late-in-life existential crisis you’re struggling with, has you wishing she’d try to be a little bit more questioning herself. Her surety and cockiness about her sexuality is suddenly the most prominent attribute of her personality, and it’s really starting to drive you up the wall.  
It’s a rare evening where it’s only the two of you at home together. You don’t really know where her girlfriend is, and you don’t much care. You only feel responsible for one annoying lesbian, the one who shares your surname.  
She’s being rather antisocial with you, playing video games alone in her bedroom, and you’ve just finished tidying up the dining table after sharing the dinner you cooked for you both. You’re not exactly sure how you’ve found yourself solo parenting your stroppy little sibling when you’re really not much older than her yourself, but there you go.  
Maybe you should try speaking to her. See what she can possibly offer you by way of sapphic guidance. If she’s going to continue having her nuisance girlfriend living here rent-free, she should at least try giving you something to make it worth your while.  
You walk straight through to her bedroom and collapse your head onto her stomach on the bed. Making sure to do so with just enough force behind it to ensure you manage to leave her winded and interrupt her gaming. She grunts under you, and you earn an overly aggressive smack to your shoulder for achieving your goal. As, whatever other little child she’s playing her game against, has just managed to score past her.  
“You’re a twat!” She scolds, and you backhand her face to shut her up. She raises her fist above your stomach, and you flinch, bracing for impact.  
“I have a question!” You shout, before she has chance to attack.  
She pauses her lifted fist above you, and reluctantly agrees to a truce, providing your question is of interest to her. “What?” She groans, and you fiddle with your fingers, trying to find the right wording.  
“Why do you like women?” You ask, your face grimacing as you await her response.  
It isn’t your smoothest ever phrasing, not your wittiest form of delivery. It’s honestly, rather annoyingly, not the most subtle line of questioning. Despite it not being entirely to the point, your sister isn’t stupid.  
“What?” 
Oh ..maybe she is! 
That’s not going to be super helpful with your impending interrogation.  
“Why not men?” You suggest, still trying not to be too blatant. “How did you know you liked women?” 
“I looked at one.” She tells you, like it’s the most obvious answer in the world. “Why?” 
“Do you find every woman attractive?” 
“No, but I find enough of them attractive to sense a pattern.” She explains. “Why?” 
“And you’ve never been attracted to a man? Not even tempted?” 
“No. Not once. Why?” 
“Never ever?” 
“Y/N!” 
“I was just wondering.” You tell her quickly, drumming your fingers on top of your stomach.  
“About women?” She queries. 
“About ..why women. What it is about them.” 
“Aside from the obvious?” She snickers, nudging your arm.  
You quickly bounce your head back against her stomach winding her again.  
“Stop doing that!” 
“Stop being annoying!” You warn her. Your frustration at yourself getting the better of you.
She tries to push you off of her, but you mess with the analogue sticks on her controller, and she turns her focus back to salvaging her match. “You really are a twat! Get out!” 
“I need your help.” 
“I don’t care!” 
“..I’m sorry.” You mumble, and she scoffs at you, pushing you off of her bed unceremoniously.  
You can’t say you blame her, you’re a constant threat to her in that position, it’s too big of a risk. You enjoy bouncing your head and ruining her childish little game far too much.  
“Why do you like men?” She counters, and you find yourself stuck for words as you sit on her floor.  
It’s the question that’s been floating around your own head for a little while now. You’d never thought about it before. You just were. You had crushes on them all throughout your childhood, you’d had meaningless boyfriends in your teens, you met your bastard ex at university and figured that was it.  
You didn’t need to question why you were attracted to them, it just always made sense.  
“I don’t know.” You answer honestly, letting out a groan as you grab one of her pillows and bury your head into it.  
“What’s going on?” She asks, as she prods at your shoulder with her foot.  
“Nothing. I was just—” 
“Thinking about women?” 
“No!”  
It isn’t really a lie, you’re not thinking about women, just the one. The one woman who’s been invading all of your thoughts for the past 30 something days. The one who won’t let you sleep properly at night, who won’t let you focus completely at work.  
The one woman who refuses to leave your head for even a second just to let you rest, to let you breathe, to let you remember what life was like, prior to her entering it and recklessly setting fire to everything, before she ran away from you and disappeared into thin air.ᅠᅠ
“I kissed one.” You confess, trying to suffocate yourself with her pillow.  
This really does take her by surprise. You can hear her movements on top of the mattress as she turns her game off and pulls her pillow from you with a rather startling urgency. There’s great confusion on her face as she looks at you. She really must think you’re very boring if that’s enough to render her speechless. Imagine her reaction if you admitted to all the other things you did to the Spanish enigma.  
“You kissed a woman?” She asks, frowning at you.  
You’re not entirely sure why she looks quite so cross about it. You’re not trying to steal her thunder here. You’re not about to start trying to catch up with her numerous exploits of female companions.  
“Mhmm.” You mumble in reply, smoothing your hair back from over your face.  
“Why? For a man?” 
“No! I just wanted to ..I thought it’d be fun.” 
“..and ..was it?” 
“Mhmm.” 
She looks at you with a very distinct air of incredulity. It’s a rather annoying look, weirdly condescending. She doesn’t believe you. Why she thinks you’d bother lying about it, you really do not know. You’re not that desperate for a story to tell her.  
It’s almost offensive that she thinks you’re so incapable. You didn’t just kiss a woman. You went down on one, you had your fingers inside of her. You evoked moans from her, she scratched her nails down your back. You’re not some virginal prude. You’re not inept. It can’t be that shocking and inconceivable that you could share a single kiss with someone of the same sex.  
You were right, telling your sister was pointless. She’s offered you no assistance and no support. She’s a useless little waste of space and her horrible girlfriend is an advantage-taking little freeloader.  
“Thanks, very much! This was really helpful!”  
Your words are laced in sarcasm as you slide yourself up away from her bed with a sigh, throwing your middle finger up back in her direction as you exit the room, and slam her bedroom door shut behind you.   
You slam your own bedroom door shut behind you too, just in case she hadn’t picked up on how pissed off you are.  
You’re not really pissed off with her. She doesn’t know what’s going on inside of your head. You’re pissed off with yourself, for still being all entirely far too consumed with a woman whose name you do not know. Who wouldn’t even bother sharing her profession with you. It isn’t fair.  
You collapse headfirst onto your bed and let out a rather guttural groan into your duvet. You’re very frustrated. Your brain’s a mess, your sexuality’s up in the air, and you allowed yourself to picture, far too clearly, your memories of having sex with the gorgeous Spanish woman and now that ache that she’d put inside of you is back.  
There’s a knock at your door, and you’re not in the mood. You grab your duvet and burrito yourself in it down to the foot of your bed.  
“Y/N?”  
You don’t even grace your sister with a response. She doesn’t deserve it. She’s a swine.  
No, but she really is a swine, as you can hear her turning the doorknob and just walking right into your bedroom anyway. She’s really, unbelievably terrible at reading social cues.  
“Do you want to come to Spain with me next week?” 
See what I mean? What the hell?  
That’s a very serendipitous little offer, though. You didn’t even mention to her that the woman that you kissed was Spanish.  
Did you?  
She can’t have worked that out by herself. That would be insane. She’s already proved herself to not be the sharpest tool in the shed. That wouldn’t make any sense. What an intriguing little invitation.  
It’s very embarrassing that just the mention of the country sends a shiver down the back of your neck. All this instant adrenaline running through you, as if she’ll just be waiting for you there as soon as you land down in a random Spanish airport. Yeah, that seems likely!  
Spain’s not the biggest country in the world, but it certainly isn’t small. You’re not going to accidentally stumble into her again on the beach, or in a marketplace. She’s definitely not going to be staying in the same hotel that you’d be in.  
It shouldn’t have your heart racing like this. The chances of finding her again are so infinitesimally small, so extremely impossible, so overwhelmingly unlikely ..but you do stand a better chance, if you’re in the right country.  
“Next week?” You mumble under the sheets, playing it incredibly cool, as you try to ignore the way your heart’s started thumping at a thousand beats per minute.  
“Yeah.” 
“I thought you were going away with your girlfriend?” 
“..we broke up.” 
Shit. She would make this all about herself.  
You wiggle yourself free of your duvet cocoon and open up your arms for her to crash into you. She might be a useless little swine, but she’s your useless little swine. “Are you okay?”  
“Mhmm.” She grumbles, as she starfishes herself on top of you.  
“I’m sorry.” 
“No, you’re not. You never liked her.” 
“That’s not true.” You protest half-heartedly, kissing the side of her head.  
“I am fine ..I broke up with her.” 
“Well, thank fuck for that!” 
“See!” She laughs, rolling off the side of you. “You hated her!” 
“She was horrible!” 
“You could’ve said.” 
“You wouldn’t have left her if I told you to. You’d be getting bloody married to the girl. Twat.” She giggles defencelessly next to you on the bed, because you’re absolutely right. She has always been a contrarian little thing. “Are you sure you’re okay?” 
“Yeah. I’ll find someone else tomorrow.” 
“Unbelievable.” You chuckle, shaking your head as you push her away. “You can’t just give me her ticket. Did she not pay for it?” 
The embarrassed little look on your sister’s face is all the wordless response you need. Her girlfriend never paid for anything. She really was an advantage-taking little freeloader.  
“Where are you going in Spain?” 
“Barcelona.” 
“Why?” 
“Football.” 
“Oh! Give me a break!” You exclaim and roll down away from her back to the foot of the bed. “Why are you going all the way to Spain just to watch some football? You can bloody watch it here.” 
“It’s the Champions League!” She informs you excitedly, and you can’t even pretend to match her enthusiasm. “Chelsea’s playing Barcelona.” 
“Woo.” You respond flatly, rolling your eyes with a shake of your head. “You watched them play together today, didn’t you? Why are they so bloody obsessed with each other? Even I know there’s more teams than that.” 
“It’s the second leg..” She starts explaining, but none of it means anything to you, and you really just can’t bring yourself to care.  
Going all the way out to Spain to be stuck inside a stadium with thousands of screaming fans? What sort of holiday is that? You don’t care about Chelsea’s success or failure. Your sister’s dirty crush on their star-striker is just another one of her many celebrity infatuations that you can’t make any sense of.  
You don’t want to sit next to her as she gets herself all hot and bothered watching women run around a football pitch. You don’t even enjoy watching men do it, you have no interest in watching women.  
“No. I’m good, thanks.” You tell her, dismissively.  
“Please? We can do more than just watch the football.” She offers, pouting pathetically. “You have to come with me! I’ve just been dumped!”  
“No, you haven’t!” You remind her, laughing at her useless attempt at guilt tripping. “And you haven’t really left me much time to negotiate with work.” 
“You work too hard and you’re due some time off! Your boss isn’t going to refuse you, just bat your eyelashes at him. The filthy pervert.” 
“Hm.” You mumble, drumming your fingers over your stomach as you think.  
She isn’t wrong, about you working hard, at least. You do like to bury yourself in your work. You enjoy your job, and the harder you work, the more you earn. You haven’t had time off in a while, and your boss is unlikely to say no to you, you are his favourite employee. You don’t agree that it’s because he has a crush on you, you get good results for the company, and attract lucrative clientele.  
If batting your eyelashes could get you back in the arms of your Spanish one-night stand more easily, though, you’re not above flirting with him to get you there. You could take a few days of leave, go off to Spain, and possibly run into the woman who’s been living inside of your head.  
It’s such an incredibly remote possibility. An absolute stab in the dark chance of finding her. She probably isn’t even in Barcelona. You’re not cultured enough to be able to pin her accent to a specific city. She’s just Spanish. There’s much more places in Spain than just Barcelona. Barcelona isn’t even the capital. Maybe she’s in Madrid, Valencia, Marbella. She could be a party girl living on the island of Ibiza, you had originally found her in a bar. You don’t get a body like hers drinking yourself senseless every night, though.  
What if you do find her, and she wants nothing to do with you? There was only ever the promise of one night together. You already pushed your luck by spending the rest of the morning with each other, she doesn’t owe you anything more. It’s unlikely that she’s been spiralling quite as pathetically as you have. She’s not going to be fending off a sexuality migraine.  
You undoubtedly won’t have been the absolutely mind-blowing experience to her, that she was to you. She’ll have had sex with countless women. She definitely enjoyed herself with you, that much you’re certainly sure of. You can’t fake every bodily reaction to someone, but the rest of it could have been for show. The display of heartbreak afterwards.  
So, maybe she’s an actress, that would certainly make sense. It would explain why she had money, and why she had a company paying for her hotel. Maybe that was her little ‘business trip’. Perhaps she was in London promoting a Spanish movie. Maybe the entire thing was all a performance, and you fell for it. Hook, line, and sinker.  
Either way, stalking her in Spain would be far too pathetic. Even if she does want you to find her, it’s so desperate and needy of you to go all that way, and if she doesn’t want you to find her, you end up looking insane. Travelling to Spain, to possibly just show up right there on her doorstep? What a terrifying thing for you to do to the woman.  
But what if it’s a sign? 
Your clueless little sister, inviting you all the way to Spain, with absolutely no idea that the woman you’re harbouring all of these confusing emotions for, lives there? Maybe it’s fate. Maybe it’s the universe trying to get you back together. Maybe she didn’t fake it, she does feel the same, you’ll find her in Spain and spend the rest of your lives together.  
Please. Behave and be so goddamn serious with yourself. You sweet and simple, delusional little fool.  
“The woman I kissed was from Spain.” You inform your sister thoughtfully, and she sits herself up on your bed to frown at you.  
“You’re still going with that?” 
“Why don’t you believe me?” 
“You’re straight. Straight straight straight.” She points out, with such an incredibly annoying inflection to her voice, it makes you want to bang your head against the wall. “You’re also 26. You were in love with an ugly bastard for 5 years and you’ve never shown an interest in a woman before.” 
“I hadn’t met her before.” 
“Gayyy!” She giggles, and you give her an almighty clack on her arm with the back of your hand, to wipe the smug little smile from off her face.  
“Go with the woman you’re hooking up with tomorrow.” You instruct her. “I’d be a nightmare to watch football with, you’d have to keep explaining things to me.” 
“I don’t mind doing that.” 
“Do you have no other friends to go with you?” You laugh and she pouts dramatically again, shaking her head. “You’re a lonely little loser!” You tell her with a smile.  
“Is that a ‘yes’?” She asks, rolling her eyes at you.  
You take in a deep breath and let out a very heavy sigh. 
What’s the worst that can happen?  
She’s already completely upturned your life. It couldn’t make things any worse for you. Whether you’re able to bump into her or not. You’ll either find yourself some peace, lounging in the Spanish sun, or you’ll be left in exactly the same position you’re in now, but with a much healthier glow to your skin.  
You could even find yourself a Spanish man while you’re out there.  
Mm.  
It’s really not a good sign for your heterosexuality, that that’s no longer an appealing option to you.  
“If I can sort it with work,” you reason, “yes. I’ll come to Barcelona with you.”  
She lets out an embarrassingly girly squeal and crashes her head against your stomach, with just enough force behind it to manage to leave you winded.  
“Twat! I’m making no promises about going to the game, mind. I’m just coming for the tan.” 
“Maybe your ‘Spanish lesbian’ is also a fan of football.” She encourages  
“Mhmm. I’m pretty sure she is.” You admit contemplatively. “Is that an entry-level of requirement for lesbianism, then?” You ask, rolling your eyes. “Because if that’s the case, I really can stop questioning myself.” 
________________
Booking time off work really is as easy as your sister thought it would be. Maybe your boss does have an inappropriate crush on you like she suspects. 
She’s very excited about having you for company, and she tries to educate you on all of Chelsea’s history, the players’ statistics, and their personal lives, all before you go on your little trip together. It really does just go right in one ear, and straight back out of the other. You’re not fussed on the facts and figures; it’s not why you’re going.  
There’s not enough room in your brain to care about the ins and outs of Sam Kerr and Kristie Mewis’ relationship. You’re not interested in the fact that Chelsea currently have 6 WSL titles, and are going for their fifth-straight one, and you really aren’t bothered that the semifinal’s first leg match against Barcelona ended in a draw.  
That is a fair amount of information for you to have retained already despite not being interested. Your sister really has been going on at you, you’re almost a footballing expert.  
Touching down late in the morning in Barcelona, you can’t pretend there isn’t a tiny part of you that’s letting yourself get a little carried away with dreaming. You’ve played through enough countless scenarios in your head of running into the Spanish wonder again back in London, of course your mind’s racing with the possibilities in Spain.  
You drop your bags off at the hotel your sister’s booked for you both, with the intention of heading back out to explore the city together. It’s a peculiar looking building, bright red, oddly shaped. She really never has been one for subtlety, it’s the perfect sort of accommodation for her.  
She insists on wanting to have a look at the Olympic Stadium before the big match, as well as seeing the state of Camp Nou’s renovations, and you really can’t indulge her any more than you already have. You probably will end up joining her for the game tomorrow, but you’re absolutely not walking around the outside of football grounds for fun.  
You’ve seen the exterior of Stamford Bridge more than your fair share of times, Wembley, the Emirates. There’s not that much difference between the lot of them, and they’ve never really been your favourite form of modern architecture.  
So, you agree to go your separate ways for your first afternoon in the city, you’ll meet back up with each other tonight.  
Playing tourist around the streets of Barcelona on your own, is quite an exciting little experience for you. You’re not very worried about getting lost, despite not speaking too much Spanish beyond the basics. Your hotel’s a distinctive looking building, it’s not going to be super difficult to find your own way back to it.  
You get a taxi further into the main hub of town and you’re able to mosey about with a rather unrestrained confidence, turning down tight alleyways and strolling aimlessly along multiple cobbled streets. You manage to find yourself being comfortably led astray, by allowing nothing more than just the warm gentle breeze to guide you as it blows against your body.  
It turns into a more casual exploration of the more authentic side of Barcelona away from most of the tourist hotspots. You have no real idea where you are, and you’re quite enjoying the small rush of adventure.  
A coffee is what you start craving, and you’re not exactly limited by options. Every other building on the peacefully quiet backstreet you’ve found yourself on, seems to be a tiny café. You could start ip dip doo-ing all the individual offerings, but that’s putting far too much consideration into it. You decide to go for the smallest one, the most unassuming. The best coffees always come from the places that aren’t trying to market themselves to any foreign tourists.  
A little bell rings out as you step through the door and the barista almost jumps out of his skin at the sight of you, he clearly isn’t used to getting anyone other than his regular patrons. You offer up your friendliest of smiles and a quick ‘hola’ to show him that you mean no harm, and you tap your finger gently on the countertop as you inspect the board behind his head.  
Choosing the littlest coffee shop might have been a tiny mistake because absolutely everything on the menu is written in what you can only assume, is a rather confusing variation of Spanish. You can’t back out now, the barista already has an adorably excited look on his face at having someone new in his little shop, you can’t break his heart like that.  
You study the chalk written on the board for entirely far too long, in the hope that the words will slowly start translating themselves for you. It doesn’t work, obviously. So, you take a punt at a random one of them, with the rather daring assumption that you haven’t just ordered yourself a troubling batch of Spanish poison.  
“¡Dos, por favor!” Comes a call from behind you, from a woman you surely do not know. It’s recognisably ballsy of her, almost rude.
Her words echo in your ears, as time stands still around you. You’d recognise that voice anywhere, with that unmistakable, and entirely enchanting, cocky little tone to it.  
You can’t really have found her so easily. Life’s never been that kind.  
You can feel your heart clattering around in your chest instantly. Like it’s trying to escape from your ribs, to go off and say hello to hers, all by itself. Your chest’s rising and falling intensely as your breathing shallows and picks up pace.  
It can’t be her; it can’t be. This city’s just absolutely full of Spanish women.
She holds out her card right over you to pay, gently resting her arm down onto your shoulder, and you’ve definitely seen that tattoo before. The ‘11’ printed on her wrist.  
She’d refused to explain the meaning when you’d asked her about it. She wouldn’t give you the backstory behind any of her tattoos. It was too personal; you weren’t allowed to know.  
She thought you might have really fallen for each other if you both started sharing too much information about yourselves, and you only had the single night to spend together.  
“It would be too painful.” She had reasoned with you.
That was very clever thinking on her part. She absolutely managed to prevent you from having an awful lot of heartache and suffering about the whole thing, by letting you know absolutely nothing about her..ᅠ
You still can’t bring yourself to turn around and look. Even though you know it must be her. It can’t be likely that there’s multiple Spanish women that have branded themselves with that specific number on that specific part of their body. Surely to god.  
“..gracias.” You manage to choke out very shakily, in little more than a whisper, still facing forward.  
You have to turn around at some point. You can’t very well drink your coffee on the tiny little counter right in front of the barista when you can’t even have a conversation with him. Just staring at him, silently, neither of you able to speak each other’s language? That would freak him out! You’ll find yourself back on a plane headed for England before you know it, with a restraining order hanging over your head.  
Grow up and turn around. Just turn around.  
It’s her. It has to be her.  
The barista accepts the woman’s payment method with a familiar little smile back at her, and she carefully retracts her arm from over your shoulder slowly. You can smell her perfume on her wrist as it wafts back past the side your face. You recognise the scent, and you find yourself following it round you like a lost little puppy, your knees almost giving way beneath you.  
You didn’t accidentally stumble upon her at the beach. It’s not a Spanish marketplace. She definitely isn’t staying at the same hotel that you’re in.  
You’ve found her, while getting yourself lost. In the tiniest little café, on an unnamed, tumbleweed backstreet, right in the very heart of Barcelona.  
There’s a wide smile of disbelief on her face. Which is hopefully an indication, that she isn’t terrified of you being here, she hadn’t faked her feelings, and she, much like you are with her, is a little overwhelmed to see you.  
“Hi.” Is all that drops out of your mouth, as your mind goes blank at the sight of her.  
“Hi.” She says back, with the exact same breathlessness as you, her voice cracking ever so slightly.  
“….Hi.” 
“You’ve already said that.” She reminds you, and she’s clearly able to bring herself back to her senses far more quickly than you are, because there’s that charming little smirk tugging at the corner of her lips again.  
You’re not really sure which one of you instigated it, you both just sort of ended up colliding into each other, gripping at the material of each other’s clothes. It’s a very desperate hug. Even more so than the one you shared outside of the hotel elevator. You melt into each other, merging yourselves together like two corresponding puzzle pieces.  
It’s an embrace, holding not just the 12 hours of curious devotion between you, but over 30 days' worth of frenzied yearning. It has you both clinging to each other with everything you have, as it defies everything you came to accept as truly achievable, that heartbreaking belief in you, that this reunion would never really happen.  
It’s an impossible hug, and it’s one that neither of you want to pull away from. 
“What are you doing here?” You mumble against her, clinging to her shirt as she buries her head in the crook of your neck.  
“I think it should be me asking that question.” She tells you, chuckling. “I have far more right to be in Barcelona than you do.” 
“This is where you live?” You ask. “You’re from Barcelona?” 
“Mhmm.” She murmurs. “Mollet del Vallès.” 
There’s really no reason for that to be the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard. It’s only a place name. It’s a good job she didn’t spend much time speaking Spanish to you back in London, you really would have been like putty in her hands.  
“What are you doing here?” She questions.  
“I thought you might want your sweatshirt back.” You joke casually, and she loosens her grip on you slightly so she can face you.  
“Do you not want it anymore?” She asks, furrowing her brow as she studies your face. 
There’s a clear look of uncertainty in her eyes, a small sense of worry, and you do feel mildly guilty for teasing her. “I was hoping ..maybe I could swap it for another.” You smile. “It doesn’t really smell like you anymore.”
She doesn’t allow you to feel guilty for too long. That small air of arrogance that’s always threatening to escape her, does so, in a predictable little smirk at the implication.  
“You’ve been wearing it that much?” She asks you proudly, and you push your tongue against the inside of your mouth as you roll your eyes at her typical display of cockiness. She carefully closes the small distance between you both again, gently pressing herself flush against you. “Does it smell of you?” She whispers in your ear, sending a ripple of goosebumps down the side of your neck. 
“Mhmm.” 
“Mm. Maybe I could be persuaded to make a trade, then.” 
She’s impossible for you to resist when she’s like this. It’s still an intriguing talent she has, evoking such a physical reaction from you, by doing hardly anything at all. A quiet little whisper in your ear and your body’s immediately burning up next to her? You’re still so incredibly tragic.  
You might no longer be certain of your sexuality, but maybe it really doesn’t matter. Why do you need to understand it? Why does it need an explanation? No one else in the world is important at all when she’s standing here in front of you. No one else would ever really stand a chance. How could you ever be interested in anyone else, when you know that this woman right here exists? How could any other person ever truly compare? 
There’s a desire in you that’s clearly also felt in her, when she moves herself to look at you. It’s written all over her face, the twinkle in her beautiful eyes, and the fact that her lips are so incredibly close to yours.  
You lean in, and so does she, but it’s like something quickly shoots through her body, as though she’s suddenly being brought back into the room. She does a quick scan of the café, and she collects herself before she lets you both get carried away.  
“We can’t kiss in here.” She tells you quietly, and you frown at her as you pull yourself back.  
“Why not?” You ask, doing your own quick search to try and find what she saw to put her off.  
No one seems too interested in you, though there’s admittedly a couple of people discreetly watching her. She is very beautiful, so it’s not surprising, but you do sort of wish they’d stop their gawking. This gorgeous woman is here with you, and you’re not really in the mood for sharing.
“There’s not another bloody homophobe about, is there?” 
“No!” She laughs, shaking her head. “Well, I don’t know, actually. I haven’t asked around, but we just ..can’t kiss in here.” 
It’s curious. She didn’t have any issues kissing you in front of people before. Spanish people are very famously more physically affectionate with each other than British people are. So, it seems unlikely that the two of you would turn too many heads just by kissing.  
“Okay..” you accept reluctantly, pouting a little at the rejection, “so ..should we just quickly nip outside to do it then, or?”��You joke cheekily, pointing to the door with your thumb.
She chuckles with you, resting her forehead to your shoulder. “You’re still as straight as ever!” She grins, as she wraps you back up in her arms.  
It’s quite nice just losing yourself in her embrace. Burying your head in her neck and holding her tight against you. Having her arms back around you, her perfume overwhelming your senses. The rest of the coffee shop fades into a blur with her in your arms. She’s comforting, reassuring. She’s real, and she’s here.  
“Ale!” Is called out by the barista not a minute later, and you’d have very happily paid it no attention at all. The immediate flinch from the woman that you’re holding, in response to it, however, tells you that you might have just found out a very valuable piece of information indeed.  
You repeat it under your breath, as she pulls away from you and goes to collect your coffees from the counter.  
She says a quiet ‘moltes gràcies’ to the barista, and she narrows her eyes with a small grimace as she returns to you. There’s still a clear reluctance in her to give too much away, she’s not entirely grateful to her little coffee friend for unknowingly revealing slightly more to you than just her first initial.  
Ale. It must still be short for something, you figure. You start reeling off name possibilities at her in quick succession. Alessia, Alex, Alexis, Alexa. You’re like a dog with a bone, because she makes it clear that you’re getting closer, but she still shakes her head at every guess.  
It’s very frustrating, as she offers you absolutely no assistance with your guessing, but it can’t be as convoluted a mission as trying to discover Rumpelstiltskin’s ridiculous name. Thankfully, it isn’t. It’s on only your 5th attempt that you cause the same small flinch in her, and she smiles softly at you before looking down very quickly. You’ve struck gold.  
Alexia. 
It’s a beautiful name. Your favourite name, you’ve decided. It rolls off your tongue with so much ease, you want to repeat it again and again. 
“Now you know too much.” She sighs whimsically, handing you your coffee as she walks past you to collect her bag from the table she was previously sitting at.  
She gestures for you to follow her and leads you to a quieter area away from the other customers right at the back of the shop. She pulls out your chair for you to sit down, and you can’t not smile at the tiny act of chivalry. She really is very sweet. It’s a shame that she won’t let you kiss her.  
You reveal your own name to her, as she joins you on the other side of the table and she repeats it back to you quietly. Whether it’s the sexy Spanish accent, or just the fact that it’s her saying it to you for the first time, you’re not entirely sure, but your heart skips a few beats after hearing it. 
“Now we both know too much.” She tells you, and she takes a small sip of her coffee.  
There’s the tiniest level of nervousness, that blankets itself over you both as you sit together. It’s a little absurd, you’ve seen this woman naked. She’s seen you naked. It isn’t technically a first date between you, neither of you asked the other to be here, but you both clearly have the little jitters of being on one, coursing through your bodies.  
You find yourself just watching her a few times as you talk over your drinks together. You still can’t really believe you found her so quickly. So, you don’t want to risk taking your eyes off of her for too long, in case she just disappears into thin air while you’re not looking.  
She’s also the most beautiful sight in the café. So, why would you want to waste your time looking at anything else? 
You’re not being very discreet about your staring at all, and neither is she, really. You keep exchanging shy smiles over your cups as you catch each other looking. Both of you blushing and quickly averting your eyes as they meet, and then gradually repeating the whole thing all over again. You’ve definitely caught her gazing a few more times than she’s caught you. So, maybe she’s even more tragic than you are.  
The little coffee you ordered by chance, is Alexia’s usual order, so she tells you. It’s not the most life-changing piece of information for her to share with you, but it’s something else for you to know about her, and you’re absolutely sure to make a note of it. It probably keeps you on an even tally too, she already knows that you enjoy drinking a tequila.  
You’re still not allowed to kiss each other, for whatever obscure reason, but she has reached for you hand under the table. Interlacing your fingers together isn’t a new thing between you both, and neither are those tingles that immediately shoot up through your arm at even the most innocent of touches from her. She really does have an incredible effect on you, it should probably be more terrifying to you than it is.
“Why are you really here?” She asks after a moment, as she strokes her thumb over your knuckles.  
“My sister dragged me here.” You answer. “It’s a very important football match tomorrow, apparently.” 
“The one against Chelsea?” She asks, with an unmistakable look of interest in her eyes, that has you rolling your own lightly back at her.  
“I think she’d say against Barcelona,” you point out with a sigh, “but yeah, that one.” 
You had managed to work out that Alexia was probably a bit of a football fan. She has a little stick figure tattoo of a footballer on her leg, the outline of a baby being given a ball on her back, and you have exceptional detective skills. It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out.  
So, it isn’t a surprise that she’d be excited by your footballing interests, but it is unfortunate that you really don’t share the same passion for it as her.  
“Unless you’re a very daring rebel,” you start, “I assume you’ll be supporting Barcelona tomorrow?” 
“Mhmm,” she murmurs, with a small twinkle in her eye, “and you’ll be supporting Chelsea?” 
“Not emphatically,” you admit with a smile, “but I’ll be in that section of the crowd, yeah.”  
“You don’t really care about football at all, do you?” She asks knowingly, with an edge to her smirk that’s intriguing, as you shake your head at her in apology. “Maybe you should introduce me to your sister instead, then!” She winks, and you very quickly remove your hand back out of her hold.  
“Don’t.” You tell her. “Please. Don’t even joke about it.” 
It’s admittedly a little cute that she finds herself quite so hilarious for her disgusting little joke, but you are very unamused by the idea. If the childish look of mischief on her face wasn’t so entirely endearing to you, you may very well have got up and left her right then and there.  
She rests the back of her hand on your thigh with her palm outstretched, and you roll your eyes at her before placing your own hand back into it. She raises it to her lips to place a lingering kiss to your fingers, leaving you with the faintest of blushes across your cheeks. So, maybe you can find it in yourself to forgive her just this once.  
“I have a sister.” She reveals. “Her name's Alba. She’s a few years younger than me. I’m the older sibling, like you are.”  
“Uh oh!” 
“What?” 
“Well, now I really do know too much.” You tell her with a wink.
“My sister’s Emily.” You inform her rebalancing the tally of facts you keep sharing with each other. “Though she’d kill you for calling her that. I think she’d change her name completely if she didn’t think it would upset our Dad so much. She just goes by Em these days ..so ..she probably would have enjoyed your silly little initial idea, actually,” you admit thoughtfully, frowning a little at the realisation, “maybe I really should introduce you to her instead..” 
“Por favor.” She says quietly, quickly shaking her head at you and raising your hand to her lips once again. “Don’t even joke about it.” 
“Will you be going to the game tomorrow?” You ask, a not-so-subtle attempt at finding out if you might be getting to see each other again so soon. “We’d be like star-crossed lovers in the stands. Very Romeo and Juliet of us!” 
“I don’t know that we want to be comparing ourselves to those two! I don’t remember it ending very well for them.” She reminds you, narrowing her eyes at you as her intriguing little smirk returns to her face. “And no. I’m working tomorrow, I won’t be in the stands.” 
“Boo. You can’t be that big of a fan, then!” You tut in disappointment. “I’ve come all this way to support my team!” 
“Your team!” She chuckles. “Will you be there in a Chelsea shirt?” 
“Absolutely not. I’ll be in very neutral colours.” 
She smiles, nibbling at the inside of her mouth as she lowers her eyes to look at the table. She knocks her hand gently on it a few times before turning her attention back to you. It’s impossible to know what she’s thinking, but she’s definitely debating something silently in her head.  
“I could give you a Barcelona one?” She suggests a little cautiously, and you have to smile at the idea. Your sister would certainly disown you if you took one of those back home with you. It’d be worth it, just to see the look on her face.
“You have a very weird habit of offering me your clothes.” You tell her slyly.  
“Mhmm. I really like seeing you in them.” She admits sultrily, and your breath catches as her eyes darken looking at you. “I think I have one in my bag, if you want it.” 
It’s a surprisingly sexy little offer, and you do quite like having her clothes on your body. It’s hard not to laugh at her peculiarity, though, even your sister isn’t that crazy of a football fan.  
“You just ..carry it around with you at all times?” You ask, furrowing your brow as you chuckle at her. “That’s really weird of you! Do you sell them? You go round offering them to unsuspecting tourists? Is that your job? Is it a fake? Are yo—”
“You need to stop trying to know things about me.” She interrupts softly, shaking her head as she chuckles.  
“And just ..blindly accept that you always have a football shirt on you?” 
“Mhmm.” She giggles, and you narrow your eyes at her.
She really is very curious.  
She pulls it out from her little duffle bag from under the table and hands it to you with a gleam in her eye as you take it from her. You push your empty coffee cup to the side and spread the shirt out over the table to study it.  
They’re not exactly your colours, but you can probably make them work. You hold it up against you to check that it will suit, and she bites her lip as she watches you. There’s a name printed on the back of it, you realise, and you smile a little as you read it in your head.  
“Don’t most adults keep it blank? Or just go for their favourite player?” You ask smirking. You turn the shirt around and rest it over yourself, and she gently bites at the skin around her fingernail as you trace the lettering over your chest. “I thought it was just little kids that got their own name on the back. Do you quite like pretending you’re also on the team?” 
“Mhmm ..maybe.” She mumbles, stifling a giggle as she rests her head in her hand. She smiles at you fondly, as she continues gazing at your little shirt inspection.  
“That’s really very cute of you.” You tell her, placing the shirt back on the table and leaning over it as you trace your fingers over the number. “Why ‘11’?” 
“Hm?” 
“11. You have it tattooed on you. You’ve chosen it for your shirt.” You point out. “Is it your birthday? You were born on the 11th? You were born in November? Born on New Year’s Day? Is it just your lucky number? Is it—” 
“Stop, trying to know things about me.” She interrupts again quietly, reaching for your hand and meeting you across the table to rest her forehead to yours.  
“But I want to know things about you.” You whisper. “I want to know when your birthday is. I’d like to know your surname. I want to know what you do for a living, how you got those scars on your knee, how much you weighed when you were born. The name of your first crush, where you went to school, the meaning behind your tattoos. I want to know each and every incredible milestone you’ve ever achieved, and all the unfathomably boring things that you got up to in between each of them. I want to know every single detail about you, and your life, Alexia. I really, really want to know you.”   
It’s quite the thing for you to confess to the poor woman after only meeting her on two separate occasions, but the way her grip on your hand kept tightening as you spoke, the slight clenching of her jaw, and the fact that her lips are dangerously close to yours once again, probably means you haven’t just completely scared her off with it.  
“We’d have to spend a lifetime together, trying to learn all of that about each other.” She whispers to you, her lips lightly brushing against yours.  
“Is that a proposal?” You chuckle, gently bumping your nose to hers. Your eyes trail to her lips, and it’s really very hard to not act on your impulses. “Am I really not allowed to kiss you in h—“ 
It seems that you are allowed to kiss her in here, when it’s right at the back where no one’s watching. Or she’s allowed to kiss you, at least, because there's no doubt which one of you instigated this. Her lips move against yours, and your pulse reacts to her immediately.
It's a kiss harbouring an awful lot of emotion, for two people who still hardly know each other. It's slow, passionate, careful, and every confusing little worry that's been plaguing your brain since the last time you kissed, instantly melts away into nothing as her tongue slips back into your mouth. You're the only two people in the world when her hand's pulling you in by the back of your neck, and you’re tugging her closer by grabbing at her shirt.
It’s probably a good job she did decide to take you further away from everybody else, because it doesn’t stay an entirely family-friendly kiss for very long. It’s not wildly inappropriate, you’re not animals, and the bastard table’s in the way of you doing too much with each other. Thank goodness it is, because it’s been over a month, after all, and you’re both clearly quite a bit needy. You really can’t be doing that in public.  
“I’ve missed you.” She murmurs against your lips, pulling you impossibly further into her.  
“I really missed you too.” 
Hours feel like minutes, in Alexia’s company, as you spend the afternoon roaming Barcelona together. She still refuses to tell you everything about herself. You don’t learn her surname, and she still won’t tell you what she does for a living, but you do both share other things about yourselves with each other. 
It doesn’t matter how insignificant any of the details probably are. Every single one of them still feels important to you, because it’s another little glimpse into her. Every single fact, story and secret that she shares, is what makes Alexia, who she is, and she was absolutely right, you do find yourself falling more for her, with all of the little things you keep discovering.  
She eventually agrees to tell you her birthday. Which makes the whole ‘11’ obsession even more intriguing to you, because the 4th of February ’94 does absolutely nothing to clear that little mystery up. It does tell you that the man in his twenties that you were looking for the night you first met, didn’t even turn out to be a woman in her twenties at all. She turned 30 nearly 3 months ago. She’s absolutely decrepit! 
She gives you a tiny tour on your stroll together, bringing some clarity to the Catalonian streets you’ve been carelessly walking down. Explaining the extra confusing writing on the menu board, and casually revealing to you that she can speak 3 different languages. So, your drunken boast about your GCSE level German, probably wasn’t very impressive to her at all.  
You’re both approached a fair few times by people asking for directions. You can never understand what it is that they’re saying, and you're not really of much use to them just standing there being awkward. So, you hang off a little to the side taking in your surroundings, waiting for her to help them out, before she excitedly returns back to you. You’re not at all bothered by the interruptions. Your patience with it keeps earning you a quick discreet kiss from her as she wraps her arms around your waist, and you return the same display of affection, for her unrelenting kindness to strangers.
Alexia insists that she isn’t a tour-guide, and she’s also not an actress. So, you are very slowly whittling down the options of what it is she could possibly do for a living. She asks you about your own career, which is incredibly cheeky of her, considering. So, you simply refuse to tell her.
Maybe it’s that competitive streak in you, but if she wants to play it secretive, you can absolutely match her for it. You only agree to give her the corresponding facts to the one’s she’s willing to give to you. That way, if she’s falling for you with each new piece of information the same way that you’re doing for her, at least you’re both crashing down for each other, at exactly the same speed.
There’s slightly less careless abandon with being too physical with each other, walking hand in hand around Barcelona. It’s arguably tame compared to how you both were back in London. Whether it’s the lack of alcohol that’s keeping her more reserved, or maybe just because it isn’t yet nighttime, you’re not entirely sure.  
You’re still stealing kisses as you waltz along the streets, but you’re not pushing each other up against the walls of buildings out in the open. Maybe that would be a little indecent of you both. You’re pulling each other down quiet alleyways, instead, pressing yourselves together in secret coves.  
It doesn’t feel entirely necessary, the streets you’re exploring aren’t particularly packed with people, but you don’t question it too much. You’ve really just missed having her lips on yours, and whatever capacity she feels comfortable doing it in, you’re more than willing to oblige.  
You couldn’t really care less who sees you kissing her. You all but forget that they exist when she's pulling you into her and leaving her mark on you. It is arguably far more exciting, however, trying to be sneaky about it with each other. You're both almost actively searching for places that you're unlikely to get caught in. Finding hidden areas and seeing how much you can get away with together.
Your hands find their way under her shirt on more than one occasion. She really does have the most beautiful body. She jokingly reprimands you for it each time, but she doesn’t really discourage you from doing it. She does continually tease you, for your ever-decreasing signs of straightness, though.
Each newly shared kiss with Alexia, is somehow even better than the last. Whether she’s passionately throwing caution to the wind with you, by kissing down your neck, or trapping your bottom lip between her teeth. Even when she’s just being painfully frustrating, by giving you the quickest of pecks before skipping away. Every single one of them still sets your soul on fire, and they still manage to pull all the air right out from your lungs, every single time.
Alexia waits with you, as it turns to evening, on a bench by the road for your taxi back to your hotel. You try not to let the mild burning in your eyes ruin your final moments with her, but you can feel yourself starting to break.
She pulls out the football shirt from her bag again and holds it out for you to take with a shy smile. “I really hope you enjoy the game tomorrow.” She says, and you try to allow yourself to chuckle a little while nodding your head. 
“Mhmm. Thank you, I’ll try.” You tell her, throwing her shirt over your shoulder and quickly rubbing the corner of your eyes. “I’ll have to get Em’s permission to wear this, first. She’ll be very unimpressed with me.” 
“Just don’t let her burn it!”  
“I won't.” You promise, interlacing your fingers with hers and placing a kiss to the back of her hand. “The other fans might throw tomatoes at it, mind!” 
She chuckles, pressing a kiss to your temple, and there’s that familiar sense of dread in your stomach, as you watch the road, knowing your time together is quickly running out again.
You catch her gazing at you as you turn to her, and maybe there’s a little butterfly or two in your stomach as well, at the way her eyes are watching over you. “Are you okay?” You ask.
“Mhmm. You haven’t even gone yet,” she tells you smiling, tucking your hair back behind your ear, “and I already can’t wait to see you again.” 
“You’re really that certain that you will? You’re still sure you don’t want us to swap numbers?”  
“We’ve already bumped into each other a couple of times now. I have no doubt we’ll manage it again.”
It’s nowhere near as reassuring to you as it seems to be to her, but there’s a certain level of romance in her conviction in fortuity. Maybe you are beginning to believe in the possible existence of fate, though you're not completely enamoured by continuing to leave your encounters with Alexia, entirely up to chance. She cradles your head in her hands and gently wipes the tears that are threatening to spill from your eyes with her thumbs.
"I'll never forgive you," you warn her weakly, "if this ends up being it for us."
"Trust me." Is all she asks of you, and she pulls you back into her, resting her head against yours as she runs her fingers over your back.
It feels like an unspoken promise from her, to keep at least trying to find you, and there's a power in her certainty that has you desperate to believe in it too.
It’s still a little hard for you both to say goodbye to each other, but she’s already told you she has a busy day tomorrow, and you can’t really bring her back to your hotel when your sister’s already sharing the bed with you. You share another long hug, and a few more secret kisses before your taxi pulls up, and you finally hesitantly agree to part ways. She places a kiss to your cheek, by way of goodbye as you clamber yourself into the back of the car, setting off without her once again.  
You try to reassure yourself, on the taxi ride back to your hotel. You've ran into each other twice, in two separate countries, by pure dumb luck. It can't be impossible for it to happen again. Maybe there’s something connecting you both, an invisible string, an intangible little bungee cord, that's making sure that neither of you is ever able to truly stray too far away from the other. Alexia has ‘no doubt’ that you’ll manage another meeting again, and you take some comfort in knowing, that you still have 2 days left in the city, to do exactly that.
________________
Collapsing back down to lay on the bed in your hotel room, you have a sneaking suspicion, that you’ll have a far better night’s sleep than you’ve managed to have in a long time, tonight. Your mind isn’t spiralling with confusion anymore, and there’s no longer a gaping hole inside of your chest.  
There’s an excitement in you, a warmth. An encouraging little hope that you really have found something special. Someone special. That once-in-a-lifetime connection with another person who’s also trapped in this world along with you.  
It definitely isn’t the someone you expected to intertwine your soul with. Any younger version of yourself would be very confused about where she’s ended up. It isn’t a connection you want to keep questioning either. It’s not one you really have any doubts on the existence of at all. She’s just it for you, and maybe it’s okay that that’s all you can say to justify it.   
You don’t need to be attracted to other women; you don’t really care about your weakening attraction to men. It just makes sense when you’re together with her. There’s no confusion, no uncertainty, there’s no warning alarms ringing out in your head. There’s just Alexia, and the existence of anything and anybody else, will always pale in comparison to her. 
Your sister arrives a little after you, plodding back into the hotel room, clearly wiped from whatever individual Spanish adventure she got up to today, and she flops herself into one of the armchairs with a very heavy sigh.  
“Long day?” You ask. 
“Mhmm.” She mumbles, frowning at you suspiciously. “You look very happy?” 
“I am very happy!” You tell her with a smile. You excitedly roll over and reach down the side of the bed to retrieve your souvenir of the day from its hiding spot. You launch it right into your sister’s face and she grunts a little under the impact. “Will you hate me, if I wear that tomorrow?” You ask, trying to contain your newfound enthusiasm. 
She pulls it off from where it’s wrapped itself around her head, and she gives you a very unimpressed look. “You bought a Barcelona shirt?” She asks, clearly disgusted with your choice of fashion.  
“I was given it.” 
“By?” 
“..a woman.” You tell her, gently biting your bottom lip as you smile up at the ceiling.  
“Mm.” She mutters with a sigh, moving to join you over on the bed. She thwacks the shirt down over your stomach and lets out a huff next to you. “Well, at least she has good taste.” She tells you. “Or she’s just a bit basic.” 
That’s a little rude ..and very confusing.  
“What do you mean?” 
“Going for the best player on the team.” 
That’s less rude ..but even more confusing.  
“..What do you mean?” 
“Are you joking?” She asks, with a very clear tone of annoyance to her voice. She grabs the shirt and thwacks you with it again. “A woman gives you a shirt with a name on the back, and you don’t even care enough to ask who the bloody player is?”   
Maybe your head is racing again. That’s incredibly confusing. It really doesn’t make any sense. It’s her name, not a player’s name. Maybe they just share a name. It’s not an incredibly rare name, that’s not impossible. 
Your Alexia has a mild interest in football, she’s not playing it professionally. Who would keep that a secret? She’s reticent with sharing information, that’s for certain, but she’s not a bloody liar, and she told you she wouldn’t even be there tomorrow.  
No.  
She said that she was working tomorrow, and that she wouldn’t be in the stands with you. 
Your mind has started racing, and so has your little heart.  
“What. do. you. mean?” You repeat slowly, trying to keep yourself calm.  
“Alexia Putellas.” She tells you, very nonchalantly, and your brain all but short circuits at the name.  
“Who is Alexia Putellas?” 
She thwacks you again with your shirt in dismay, and you’ve really had just about enough of being treated like a piñata. You sit up, pull it from her hands and thwack it across her face as you ask her to explain herself.  
“She’s a footballer, for fuck’s sake!” She shouts, rubbing the palm of her hand against her eyelid. “She’s Spanish. She plays for Barcelona!” She pulls out her phone, to search for her Instagram and bonks you on the head with it. “That’s Alexia Putellas, you twat.” 
You look at the profile, and the hotel room blurs around you. You can feel your heart thumping in your chest, hear the blood pumping around in your ears.  
Your Alexia, is Alexia Putellas.  
She doesn’t sell shirts for a living, she’s not an actress nor a tour-guide, she really isn’t even a spy. Though she’d probably make a pretty good one, the way she never gave this piece of information away.  
Your unexplainable connection with another human being, and she plays football for a living? Clearly very well too, as 2 of her pinned photos have her holding a massive award for it right next to her face. Every other post on her page is about football. She’s Barcelona, through and through.  
She’s verified, she has over 3 million followers. She’s been out here, existing on the world’s stage, all this time, without you ever knowing. Your own sister’s been privy to more information about her than you have.  
She was in London a month ago for football, according to her Instagram posts. The cryptic little ‘business trip’ she was on, was a quarter-final match against Arsenal. An embarrassingly easy win for Barcelona, she must have been out celebrating it when she found you in that club.  
She was back in London again last week for football. You could have seen her then. You missed a chance at an earlier reunion with her, because you refused to go with your little sister to watch her in the first leg against Chelsea.  
Your breathing’s very shallow as you scroll through the endless stream of photos. Your mind is absolutely spinning. It’s all a bit much to take in. You lock your sister’s phone and place it back on her chest as you try to collect yourself. You really don’t want to risk learning too much about her. You want her to tell you everything, you don’t want to find it all out behind her back.  
You’ve been waiting with bated breath all afternoon, savouring every little piece of information she’s given you, and your smart-arse little sister could probably tell you loads about her if you asked. Lots of the details you’re so desperate to know about Alexia are probably only a quick google search away, but you feel guilty enough just knowing her surname without her having been the one to tell it to you.  
She hadn’t been super willing to even give you her first, and no wonder! It’s the single name that’s plastered on her shirt, it’s the name she’s known mononymously as. She’s women’s football’s answer to Beyoncé, Adele. 
Of course, she didn’t want to kiss you in front of people in the café, out there on the streets. It’ll be why she only kissed your cheek in front of the taxi driver. She probably is a little liar, because she almost certainly wasn’t giving directions to people when they approached you both. She presumably isn’t old friends with the two men who wanted a photo with her. They all just know who she is. The whole damn city of Barcelona knows exactly who she is.  
Maybe she was testing you, waiting for you to crack, to confess to knowing everything about her. How couldn’t you know about her? How unbelievably rude of you.  
She’s a celebrity footballer, and you’ve treated her like she’s one of the most normal people in the world. You’ve flirted with her, teased her, kissed her, slept with her, and she’s welcomed it all with that adorable little smirk.  
So, maybe she’s liked that you didn’t know, that you really had no idea about who she was at all. You can’t have had any preconceived thoughts about the woman when you’ve had no prior knowledge about her. Perhaps it’s been part of the fun for her, just being with someone who really couldn’t care about the noise surrounding her. Maybe that’s the reason she didn’t really want you knowing about it. Her fame could have changed things, pushed you away.  
It wouldn’t have. She’d have to do something intrinsically evil to frighten you off. Especially now, after the afternoon you’ve just spent together, learning more, and falling deeper for her. She’s still just the woman that baffled you with a lime in a nightclub, wound you up by kissing someone else. Rescued you from a night of undeniable regret, and turned it into the start of something magical.
She’s your once-in-a-lifetime connection, your confusing, and frustrating, perfect one-night stand companion. She’s the woman that's turned your whole world on its head, and it just turns out, that she quite likes to kick a ball around, with a bunch of other women for a living, and people from all over the world, have been watching her excel at it for years.
She has to know that you’ll have found out already, you’ve told her your sister’s football obsessed. Even if your sister didn’t know who she is, there’s bound to be other people wearing her name on their backs tomorrow. Probably not many of them were given their shirts by the woman herself. There’ll be even less of them with one of her sweatshirts in their bag.  
Maybe she’s excited for you to connect all the pieces together. Giving you her shirt was far too bold a move for her to still not want you to know. She’d have just talked you out of going to the game, if that was the case.  
She wants you there, being a very daring rebel, with her name boldly resting between your shoulder blades, rooting for her and Barcelona, right in the middle of the Chelsea fans. You’ll probably stand out like a sore thumb with your red stripes in the sea of blue you’ll be standing in, and maybe that’s exactly what she’s hoping for. She had ‘no doubt’ that you'd see each other again, after all. 
“She’s the best player on the team?” You ask your sister dreamily, collapsing back down on the bed and clinging to the shirt in your hand as you hold it against your body.  
“Mhmm. Best in the world.” She tells you, and there’s that exhilarating little thrill shooting right up through your body.  
“Oof. I’ll tell Sam Kerr you said that!”  
She scoffs to the side of you and flicks your forehead playfully. You lift Alexia’s shirt, holding it out in between your fingers to study her name again in disbelief.  
You're falling in love, with the ‘best in the world,’ and she seems to be falling for you, too. A little nobody from London, who’s spent the past month pining after who she thought, was a little nobody from Spain. She’s once again turned your whole damn world on its head.  
She really is absolutely everything.  
“I will hate you if you wear that thing tomorrow.” Your sister warns you, as she hits the shirt with the back of her hand. “I offered you a Chelsea shirt and you gagged at it!” 
“I’ve not gagged at this one.” You point out with a grin. “It’s a shame you won’t be friends with me tomorrow.” You tell her, resting the shirt back out over your torso.  
“You can’t wear it!” 
“I bloody can, and I very much will.” You inform her. “You should rethink wearing a Chelsea shirt. You’ll be very disappointed when we beat you tomorrow.” 
“‘We?’ You really are a twat. You’re Barcelona’s biggest fan all of a sudden?” 
“Too bloody right, I am!” You tell her decidedly, hugging the shirt against you. “I’ve always loved football, me.” 
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reiderwriter · 3 months
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🍷 Alcohol Free 🍷
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Week 1 of my Playlist series! Inspired by Alcohol Free by TWICE.
Summary: You're the designated driver for half of your friends, and Spencer is the designated driver for the other half, so why do you feel so buzzed when you're around him? OR; taking every opportunity when you finally meet Spencer Reid for the first time ♡
Warnings: fluff, mentions of alcohol consumption, but reader and Spencer are both sober. A/N: Welcome to week 1 of the Playlist! I think we started with an absolute banger, and for such a fun, upbeat song with this, I had to make this a fluff (sorry to all my smut and angst enjoyed, please be patient 🫡). I hope you enjoy it! Don't forget to send me more song recs, as I'll be writing one follower chosen song fic per month 🥳
Check out my masterlist here~
“How much have you had to drink exactly, Pen?” You laugh as you watch her wobble back and forth, at her table.
“We started with champagne and wine. And then there was the cocktail round, so, a few margaritas here and there. And a mojito. Maybe a mimosa. I think a guy bought me a pint colada at the bar earlier,” her words were so sharp you almost couldn't believe she'd drank anything at all, but the fact that she said all this while swaying gently from side to side had you giggling at her antics.
“Don't forget the tequila!” Penelope's friend Emily groaned from the other side of the table then were gathered at, face already flat on the surface as if her hangover had already hit.
You'd been friends with Penelope for over a year now, so you were acquainted with all of the girls there, and had agreed to come and meet them on one of their girls nights out. You were never a big drinker though, so you offered to be the designated driver for the half of the gang that were committed to Uber-ing home.
They'd been drinking since the mid afternoon, and by the time you'd gotten off work and cleaned up for the bar, it was obvious that they were going to be a handful.
“Y/N, YOU'RE REALLY PRETTY, YOU KNOW THAT RIGHT?” JJ shouted from her seat beside you.
“Thank you, JJ, you already said that three times tonight. Maybe we should get you some water?”
“And so kind too, my princess in shining armour,” Penelope giggled.
For most people, being the only sober person on a night out was hell, but you found yourself enjoying it more and more as the years went by. Drunk women were so much like kindergarteners when they reaches a certain blood alcohol level, and you loved seeing what your usually serious and cool girlfriends would come up with.
You also wanted to make sure they stayed safe, and with the impressive list of multiple alcohols they'd just ingested, you wondered if you should be carting them off to the emergency room then and there.
“I THINK YOU'D LIKE MY FRIEND SPENCER. HE'S NERDY. YOU'D MAKE CUTE BABIES.” JJ was still shouting all of her words, despite the bar being relatively quiet and you almost did a spit take with your water as she kept on.
“Stop trying to marry Spence off, Jennifer.” Penelope giggled, over pronouncing JJ's name as if it were her first time ever using the word.
You'd heard a lot about this Spencer Reid since you'd become close with the girls at the table, and honestly, you were happy that JJ deemed you good enough for their Spencer.
From the sounds of it, all three of them nagged at him like elder sisters who found him endearingly annoying, and were fiercely protective of him. It made you curious.
“Are you seeing anyone, Y/N?” Emily asked, finally lifting her head up slightly, but in a way that made it look like it weighed 500 lbs more than usual.
“I'm not.”
“Why? You're smoking. Half the men in here have been circling your like sharks for the hour you've been here.” You laughed at that and pushed a bottle of water in Emily's direction again, encouraging her to take small sips of water.
“I'm being serious! I may be drunk beyond belief but this is a sober thought.”
“Emily, I love you, but none of these men are interested in me. I'm practically a spinster. I'm 27, I have no money and no prospects, yada yada, already a burden to my parents.”
“That was something nerdy, I know that was something nerdy, my Spencie Senses are tingling,” she quipped.
And as if right on cue, a quiet voice popped up from behind you and all the hairs on your neck stood on edge as it happened.
“It's a quote from the 2005 Pride and Prejudice movie, so it's not really all that nerdy, Emily.” You turned, slightly startled in your seat as you finally met the elusive Doctor Spencer Reid.
“SPENCE!” JJ cheered, and the other girls similarly whooped at his entrance. They were overjoyed, but you were slightly overwhelmed, because not once in their descriptions of Spencer Reid had they ever told you that he was quite possibly one of the hottest men to ever grace this good Earth.
His hair was slightly curly, a mess of waves flopping into his eyes, but shorter on the sides, highlighting his sculpted jaw. He was tall, on the lean side and craning your neck to look up at him was a happy experience to say the least.
He greeted his friends and looked down to you, and you felt all the blood suddenly rush to your brain when your eyes locked. Dear God.
“Spencer, this is Y/N, my wonderful, gorgeous, single and attractive friend. Say hello, Spencer.”
“Hello,” he gladly followed the instructions Penelope gave him, and you practically giggled at the sound of his voice. Giggled.
“Hello. I'm the wonderful, gorgeous, attractive Y/N,” you waved at him slightly, but your brain wouldn't stop thumping around as you enjoyed the sight of the man.
“Penelope actually told me about you before. You're working at the indie bookstore near Café Density, right? Castle Books? I got a first edition of T.S. Eliot’s Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats there a few months ago.”
“You!” You gasped the word, as a garage of words fell from your mouth in a stream. “You bastard, I was saving for months to buy that thing, and three days before my paycheck I turn up and it was gone! Oh my god, how does it smell? Are the pages mustard yellow or still A little white? They never let me touch it because I almost burst into tears every time I got close.”
To your astonishment, he didn't recoil from your spitfire speech, but laughed happily.
“It's great, the illustrations are amazing. I didn't know someone else had their eye on it when I went in, I'm sorry.”
“Don't apologise for finding treasure. You'd be a horrible pirate if you did that.” You brain really wasn't connected with your mouth anymore and you resisted the urge to turn and bolt away from the discussion.
“Thank you? I'm not a pirate, but I think that was a compliment.”
“See, nerds made in heaven, JJ was right.” The panic built up again slightly and you were sure your brain was going to explode with all the heat that was flooding to your face.
“What's JJ right about?” Reid inquired, and you almost grasped your chest to stop your heart from beating out of it when he cocked his head to the side.
You hadn't had a lick of alcohol the entire night, and yet you're entire body was reacting like it was drunk on Spencer Reid.
“Oh just that you and Y/N here would make beautiful-”
“BEAUTIFUL CONVERSATIONS HAPPEN.” You quickly cut Penelope off, sending her a warning look that was less subtle than just straight up telling her to shut her mouth.
“Can we go now?” Emily dropped her head to the table again as she threw out the words, looking suddenly three shades greener than she was a moment before. “I think that last shot was the drink that broke the camel's liver, and I'm the camel.”
You passed her the water again and slowly started to help your friends gently gather their things, noticing that Spencer was doing the same.
No wonder these girls were so protective of him if this is how well he treats them. He was their coworker, but he would have absolutely been confused for a filial son for any of the three women as he helped them each.
“Where do you live, Y/N?” He asked casually as you both helped the women out of the bar and into the fresh air. “My car is a bit small, but we can throw these three in the back together and they'll mostly sleep until they get back to their homes.”
“Oh no, you don't have to do that, I can go by myself-”
“I can't let a drunk woman go home by herself, Penelope would give me hell in the morning.” This earned a few giggles from the women beside you. You thought you heard Emily mumbling “some profiler he is,” under her breath as well.
You hesitated. You should've been explaining that you hadn't had anything to drink yet, that you actually drove here yourself and that your car was likely parked right by his. You should've offered to take at least one woman off his hands for the night to share the burden of making sure your friends didn't die.
But it was true that each of the women was likely to completely pass out when they got into the car, like newborns being rocked to sleep by their mothers. And that left Spencer Reid free for conversation.
“Thank you, that would be really nice, actually,” you smiled and followed the man to his car, lugging your wonderfully buzzed friends behind you.
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boredmadamoiselle · 3 months
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You're losing me
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Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Synopsis: When the 2023 season comes to an end, everything falls down. Including your relationship with Charles.
Warnings: Angst. Charles is a little toxic maybe and an asshole. English isn't my first language, so it probably contains some mistakes. Sorry in advance!
Author's note: Let me know what you think. Your feedback is always appreciated and it is really important for me. If you have any ideas or concepts you want to share and that you want me to write, feel free to send them and I will take into consideration.
How long could we be a sad song 'Til we were too far gone to bring back to life? I gave you all my best me's, my endless empathy And all I did was bleed as I tried to be the bravest soldier Fighting in only your army Frontlines, don't you ignore me I'm the best thing at this party
“And Max Verstappen is a F1 world champion for the third time in a row!”, you heard the speakers saying even if everyone already knew that. 
All attention was on Max and Red Bull but your thoughts were on someone else. Charles.
While Max was celebrating his victory, Charles had lost not only against Red Bull but also against his own teammate. In the end, Carlos had managed to overtake him in the drivers' standings. The same Carlos who had always been one step in front of him for the entire year, who had broken, albeit for just one race, Red Bull's dominance and had dominated during the weekend at Monza, Ferrari’s home race. It was frustrating because he was Il Predestinato, the one who was destined to win and bring Ferrari to success after all those years. But race after race and despite the support of his fans, it seemed to him that it was no longer the case. He didn't even feel the same anymore. He was losing his confidence and was tired to fight when everything and everyone seemed to be against him: his own team, the strategies, the car, his teammate… 
But most of all, Charles was angry. You could barely keep up with him from how fast he was walking. With the helmet still on, he was ignoring everyone, including you and his fans. Something he had never done before. 
Despite his nervousness, he waited for you entering inside his driving room before slamming the door violently. You gasped at it.
You remained silent as you watched him change clothes and you thought about what you could tell him to console him. You didn’t even know if it was a good idea talking to him. What could you tell him in a moment like that to make things better? You knew that whatever you would have said wouldn't have been enough. What could you tell him that you haven’t told him yet? Because it wasn't the first time you found yourself in that situation, that things weren't going well...
You thought back over the past few months. It hadn’t been a good year for him and as a result, your relationship had suffered too. The worse the races went, the more, in fact, he was disappointed and threw himself more into work. When he didn't have to race, he was in Maranello at the factory working on the car and getting ready for the next race. Although you had tried to accompany him whenever you could, you had seen him less and less often. You also didn't feel welcome at the factory as you felt like your presence was bothering him. Scared by that, you had stopped going with him. You know it wasn’t true, that it was only your mind playing tricks on you. Was it?He loved you... you weren’t a burden or a distraction to him – you had repeated to yourself for months. He just needed to focus on his job if he wanted to win. Knowing how much it was important to him, you had put yourself aside and never said anything about it or how you felt. Not even when he didn’t come home for your anniversary because he had to work or when he forgot your birthday. You had remained silent even then, forgiving and justifying him, even though every disappointment and forgetfulness were like a stab in your heart, making you feel less and less important. In the end, it wasn't even worth it.
Although you were sad for Charles, a part of you was happy that the season had finally come to an end and that the winter break was about to start. It was your chance to spend some time together away from everything and everyone. Everything would have gone back to normal, to how it was before. You and Charles would have been fine again. At least it was what you thought… How wrong you were.
As Charles was putting his t-shirt on, you hugged him from behind and rested your chin on his shoulder. Or at least, you tried. He moved your arms off of you and walked away leaving you paralyzed in the middle of the room. You heard him grumble. 
You felt rejected by the man you loved and who told you he loved you. Because in that moment it didn’t seem like that. 
It wasn’t the first time that you felt rejected. The truth was that you hadn’t felt loved by him for months. 
You wanted to cry but you couldn’t. You had cried enough for him. You had lost count of the nights you spent crying before falling asleep. 
“Charles…”, you managed to whisper than to say. 
He turned to look at you. 
“What… what happens?”
He looked at you in disbelief. “What happens? Weren't you out there? Didn't you see what happened? I lost everything! Here what happened!”, he screamed. “I lost the championship, again! I’m not even vice-champion this time and my own teammate beat me. I’ve been driving a tract for the entire year. Isn’t all this enough for you?” 
As you listened to him, you realized how everything was always about him. He was still talking about the damn season he had, the championship, the car, his teammate… when you didn’t give a fuck about them, not anymore. You cared about you. You and Charles. But it didn't seem to be the same for your boyfriend.
He was still complaining about the season when you stopped him. You had enough. “No, I meant why you moved earlier.”
He turned around looking at you in confusion as if he didn’t understand what you were saying. 
“What… what are you talking about? When?” 
You couldn’t believe it. Was he making fun of you? How could he be so oblivious about everything, about you? Weren't you the woman he said he loved?
“Now when I hugged you and you immediately moved away from me as if you couldn’t stand my touch. Why that?”
Charles sighed and you could see how annoyed he was from your affirmation. Too bad for him that you were tired too and you couldn’t stand that situation anymore. It was time for both of you to clarify it. 
“It was nothing. I didn’t even realize it”, he said turning and giving you his back. 
“You see, Charles, this is the problem. You wouldn’t have realized it if I hadn't pointed it out for you. You never realize anything”, you said. 
“What would that mean? I already said that it was nothing. You're overreacting, Y/N!”
As your patience had reached its limit, you ended bursting out. 
“It was something, Charles! It meant for me. But apparently you simply don’t care enough about me and also about us if you don’t realize how much you’re hurting me, or I should say how I much you had hurt me in the last months”, you yelled at him while your eyes started filling with tears. 
Your words caught him off guard and put him in difficulty. He turned around to face you. 
“I’m sorry, okay? I didn't do it on purpose. I just have a lot of things on my mind right now. This year sucked…” 
You didn’t give him the time to finish. 
“Stop, Charles! I’ve had enough. Yeah, this season, the car, the team, everything sucked. I know that very well and do you know why? Because I’ve been by your side the whole time supporting and consoling you when everyone and everything seemed to be against you. And despite all this, you managed to make me feel like I wasn’t welcome. The least you could do is not push me away.” With every word you raised your voice more and more, not caring who could hear you from outside. 
“I never asked you to do all those things.”
You looked at him in disbelief. You quickly wiped away a tear that was falling down your cheek. He didn't deserve to see you crying. He didn't deserve you tears anymore.
You wondered yourself who was the person in front of you because that wasn’t the same Charles you knew and loved. There was a completely stranger in front of you as you didn't recognize him anymore.
“Yes, you didn’t but I did it anyway and I don’t regret it, Charles. I'd do it all again because I love you. But…” 
The thought had been tormenting you for months. You had kept pushing it away, trying not to listen to it but it came back stronger every time. You didn't want to believe it was true because it would mean the end of you and Charles. But maybe your relationship had been over a long time ago and you were just postponing the inevitable. 
“But it looks like my love isn’t enough anymore or maybe… maybe you don’t love me anymore, I don’t know. But I know for sure that in the last year you’ve loved your job, the championship and everything else more than me and don't try to deny it because you proved it several times, Charles. And I’m sorry but I'm tired of trying to make this relationship work when it seems I’m the only one who cares about it. I can’t keep fighting for both of us”, you said as you started collecting your things around the room, even the pieces of your broken heart. You wanted to leave that place and everything behind you as soon as possible. You were about to burst into tears. 
“Wait. What are you doing?”, he asked as he realized what you were about to do. 
“Leaving”, you simply said avoiding looking him in the face. You were afraid of the effect it might have on you. 
“What do you mean? The room or… me?” 
Good question. You didn't know it either. 
“I… don’t know. Maybe both, but for now the room for sure. I need some fresh air and... some time.” 
You collected your last things.
You had reached the door when his words stopped you. 
“So is it like this? Just because I've been absent recently or because I didn't win, you break up with me? You know I was working all the time, right?” 
You turned around to face him. All the sadness from earlier had been replaced by anger. You approached him reducing the distance between you. How could he think so low of you?
“Don’t you dare, Charles! I don't care if you're the champion of the world or not. I've always loved and wanted you despite that. And yes, I know you have been working all this time. You know why? Because that's all you've done this year: work, work and again work. If we've reached this point, it's… Do you know what? Nevermind. It’s just a waste of time and I've already wasted it enough. And so did you. I assume you have some work to do or am I wrong?” 
Maybe you had exaggerated with your words but you didn't care at all. You were hurt and angry.
Charles said nothing as you stood looking at each other. 
You weren't sure what you were hoping for. But anything would have been better than that deafening silence that was slowly killing you inside. It felt like the world was ending. For sure something was certainly over between you and Charles. But was it the end for you and him? Or there was still hope?
Your hand was on the doorknob, ready to leave when you turned to Charles. You wanted to see him one last time, to remember the Charles you loved but all you saw was a stranger. 
“You know what, Charles? You were right in the end. You’ve lost everything, including me, us. Good work, Charles.”
And with those last words you left the room and Charles. 
You exited the garage and walked quickly across the paddock hoping no one would have stopped or seen you. 
As you were keeping your head down, you didn't see that Joris was coming in the opposite direction and you collided with him.
"Oh, Joris... I'm sorry, I didn't see you...", you told him.
"Hey, Y/n. Is it everything ok? Where are you going?"
You were avoiding his gaze. If you would have looked at him in the eyes, you wouldn't have been able to hold back the tears anymore. "Away, Joris. I need to go", you whispered as your eyes started to fill with tears again.
"Wait, where? What happened?"
You quickly looked at him before hugging him.
"Nothing, don't worry. Take care of him for me, Joris."
You quickly kissed his cheek and left him there confused as he watched you walking away.
Stop, you're losin' me Stop, you're losin' me Stop, you're losin' me I can't find a pulse My heart won't start anymore For you 'Cause you're losin' me
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byunpum · 1 year
Note
Hi hope you're doing well 💗
Can i ask a one-shot with a shy reader who doesn't really show affection to neteyam. BUT one day she wants to make the first move so she kiss him without any warning. AND neteyam go FERAL bc it turn him one (or he can just be a blushing mess ) it can be smut or just fluff if you are okay with it ofc :)
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Pairing: Neteyam x human reader
Tags: crushes, Cute, baby boii neteyam.
Warning:the characters have 20's
Note: As you know my drafts had been deleted. For example this one was going to be much longer. But still, I did what I could remembering what I had already written. I still hope you like it a lot. I didn't want to make this smut, because the next post …. get ready!!! buajajaja
AVATAR MASTERLIST
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Neteyam's method of showing affection was hugs, touching and caressing. While on your part it was to turn red as a tomato every time neteyam came closer than a foot away. You had the biggest crush that could exist in all of pandora. And that's saying a lot. Loak was always making fun of your sketchbook that was full of sketches of neteyam, no matter what he was doing. You would sit far away and draw him. But you didn't get too close to him and you didn't talk to him much. While loak, kiri were very close to you, you kept your distance from neteyam. You thought that if you got too close, you would ruin everything.
On the other hand, neteyam thought you hated him. Yes… you hated him with all your soul and he knew it. Every time he tried to reach out to give you a hug. You would open your eyes wide and pull away. Or when they were playing with each other. It was truth or dare… and he chose dare. Spider dared him to give you a kiss. Neteyam got close to your face, he was excited… he saw your face turn red and you pushed him away. Getting up from your place and running out to your room. Everyone was silent, looking at each other. Neteyam was heartbroken, the boy was in love with you and you hated him.
But what bothered him the most was your closeness with loak. Why loak? i mean…the boy was not a good match for you. And yet you were more affectionate with him, it wasn't like you were on top of him all day. But if you let loak put his arm on your shoulder, or let him play with your hair a little bit. Or sit next to you. It was killing him, because he wanted to have that contact with you.
Neteyam had taken the day off, and decided to go to the small station that the humans had set up on one of the islets of the Metkayina clan, after the battles. Norm and several scientists were welcomed to the islands to help. And you were part of that group. "Hey…nete" greets norm as he sees the boy enter. "Hi norm…how are you?" neteyam greets politely. As he tried to look for you somewhere in the small lab. "Are you looking for Y/N?" says norm, teasing the boy a little. Neteyam laughs nervously. At that very moment you emerge from one of the storage rooms. You shift your gaze past neteyam.
"Y/n…h-hello!!!" says neteyam excitedly following a few steps behind you. His tail wagged back and forth, until you felt him tap you on the arm. "I'm so sorry" neteyam moved away a little bit. "Don't worry nete" you looked up to look at neteyam, you saw how excited he was. Maybe he was happy about something else. Norm walked over to you. "Y/N honey…please I need you to help me get some samples. I need you to bring me some leaves of this plant" Norm showed you a picture. "This plant grows in the forested area of this island" you take the tablet to look further into what you were going to look for. "Why doesn't Neteyam come with you?" says Norm, looking at Neteyam to give him a wink. Neteyam laughs a little but shifts his gaze so you don't spot them.
"Ahhh I don't know if…maybe" you say as you muddle over your words. "It's no problem…I'm free" neteyam almost screams with excitement. Once again his tail taps you on the arm, you nudge it a little. "Ready…well go then, I need them before nightfall" says norm, refocusing on his work. "Let's go neteyam" you say, taking the sample tube and handing it to neteyam to put in her waist bag. You stand a little quietly as you watch neteyam's hands slide down to his waist. He looks up to see how you are looking at him. "All good" the boy teases. "Yeah yeah come on" you push him a little. You could push him all day, if this was going to be the only form of contact with you, He was going to let you manhandle him all you want.
They walked a bit through the wooded area, you were in the front and neteyam was in the back enjoying the view. "hey why aren't you wearing the outfit I gave you?" asks neteyam following in your footsteps. "I've kept it…I haven't had a chance to wear it" you say. You hear neteyam chuckle a little, but you decide to ignore him. Sometime later you see the plant near a small waterfall, you walk over and sit down on one of the rocks. Neteyam sits down next to you, pulling out the sample tube. " wow…this plant is beautiful" you say, as you pluck several leaf samples.
"You say you can't use my gift…but look" neteyam touches the bracelet on your arm. "loak gave this to you last week and you are wearing it" spits neteyam waiting for you to react. " nete… this is a accessory, you gave me a complete navi outfit" you say trying to take the sample tube from his hands. Neteyam moves his hands away. "So? I made it myself for you…but it's okay. Everything I do sucks for you," Neteyam says. You remain silent, he just said that you think he disgusts you. "What the hell are you saying?" you say. Neteyam relaxes a little, you can see how frustrated he was.
"Why are you avoiding me…why don't you want me to be by your side? Even now…" neteyam takes the tube and then you watch as he takes your hand and places the object there in the palm of your hand. You didn't want to say anything, you didn't dare. You didn't have the courage to tell him that the only reason you didn't approach him was because you were a nervous wreck around him. You quickly took the samples, and started on your way to the lab. On the way back to the station, neither of you dared to speak. You arrived at the lab, entered and noticed how it was empty.
"He asks me for these samples and then disappears" you complain, as you place the tube of samples on norm's desk. You turn to see neteyam, he was sitting on a improvised couch that norm had created for the size of the avatars. "Neteyam… you don't disgust me" you say, causing the boy to look up. "Really?" the boy scoffs a little. You walk over to neteyam and sit down next to him. "Didn't you like my gift?" asks Neteyam. The boy looks at you, see how you avoid looking at him. "You see…you don't even want to look at me and " you get up from the couch, getting on your knees so you can reach neteyam's face in your hands. You pull him close and kiss him. Neteyam's eyes open wide. You pull away and sit quietly beside him.
Neteyam felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest. His cheeks grew warm, as he broke out in a cold sweat. You had kissed him." I have a notebook dedicated only to you… and I don't come close because I don't know how to act around you" you say shyly. Before you begin to speak, you feel neteyam's lips collide with yours again. But this time you let your emotions fly and do what they have to do.
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pandorasprongs · 10 months
Text
JAMIE TARTT | i'd be better armed if you agreed to take it.
PAIRING: jamie tartt x fem!reader
WORD COUNT: 5.0k
SUMMARY: higgins' new assistant happens to be an old friend of the reader's, and their reunion hits jamie with major feelings of jealousy. when the team thinks that the pair of them are going on a date soon, jamie decides enough is enough.
WARNINGS: language
A/N: i actually like this story a lot better especially the dialogue! + jealous!jamie was really fun to write HAHAHA i hope that all of you enjoy this and title is from the song '(you) on my arm' by leith ross :) also i apologize in advance i'm not the best at writing kissing scenes
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You loved your job, truly. This was the first time you've had a decent, no, fucking amazing boss that didn't make you want to pull your hair out every time they called you into the office. 
But being Rebecca's assistant also meant that you sometimes had to help Higgins out with... well, whatever the Director of Football Operations does. It was fine in the beginning, just scheduling appointments and keeping track of ticket sales, but once Richmond got promoted, it felt like your work doubled.
It only took two weeks before you begged Rebecca to get Higgins an assistant of his own. Luckily, she obliged and asked Higgins to start interviewing possible candidates for the job. 
You hoped that whatever extra load you got due to Higgins occupying himself with selecting an assistant would be worth it from how much would be lifted off you when he did. So when you got the message from Rebecca to help delegate your duties to the new assistant, you practically ran to the clubhouse that morning.
You were too excited messaging your boss that you'd be there soon that you ended up bumping into someone near the entrance.
"Shit!" You exclaim as you almost lose your balance, but are steadied by the other person who turned out to be Jamie.
"Ay, watch where you're going, yeah?" Jamie warned casually, as he let go of your arms once you recovered.
"Sorry, Jamie." You straighten up and walk in with him. "I'm just really excited. Higgins finally picked an assistant and they're here today."
"Oh yeah, you were fucking drowning in work a few weeks ago." And by drowning, he meant it literally. The football player recalled seeing you walking past the locker room carrying a stack of papers taller than you were. You refused any help from the team, partly because they had to get to training and mainly because you didn't want them to see how the tear stains on some of the pages.
"Yeah," you chuckle at the memory. "But, after a few days of helping the new kid out, I'll finally be free." You stretch your arms up in the air and cheer. You were too busy celebrating to notice how soft Jamie's expression had become. 
He loved seeing you act yourself around him, a big jump from when you used to glare at him around the office. He had denied it for a while, but Jamie started to like you around the time he'd gotten back from Man City. 
You knew him before then, when he was a massive prick who stepped over — even literally at times, — his teammates. But after he returned, you felt bad for the guy for how the rest of the team was treating him, no matter if he deserved it. Ted had told you about what they talked about when Jamie approached him about joining the team again, and a part of you felt like he needed at least some kind of welcoming presence in the building. 
You started greeting him more often when you ran into each other in the halls and sometimes offered him the candies you keep in your desk drawer whenever he passed your desk, just small things. Jamie would usually just end up hanging out with you during his breaks because he didn’t have anyone else to spend it with. The first few times, he would just sit there in silence while you worked, but one “How’s your day going?” from you, and he was more than willing to chat.
Then, of course, he gradually regained the team’s trust and started hanging out with them, but even then, your little interactions with him didn't stop. He'd invite you whenever the team had a get-together and would sometimes drop bags of candies at your desk to "re-stock" your drawer. You just thought it was his way of returning your kindness. But what you didn't realize was that the star football player was starting to fall for you. 
Jamie tried to ignore it, saying to himself that he just felt indebted to you, but then it started to manifest in different ways. How he would try and come up with reasons to approach you the next day, how he'd get distracted whenever you had to visit the pitch during practice, and how your awkward habits became something he looked forward to. It's been a while since he felt like this about anyone and was more anxious about rejection than he's felt about any of his games, so he didn't make any obvious pass at you.
So now, as you asked the receptionist where the Director of Football Operations was, Jamie decided to wait for you to spend as much time with you as possible. 
You notice Jamie staying back and relayed the information to him. "Higgins is introducing them to the team, so I guess I'll be going with you to the locker room." You nudge him with your shoulder as you continue to walk through the building. You've always tried your best to ask casual with Jamie, possibly in an effort to make yourself feel normal around him and not constantly blushing every time he looked at you.
As you approach the room, you hear Higgins explaining what the new assistant would be doing for the players. "So if ever you need help with anything I've listed, you can go to Anthony Perez here, instead."
Anthony Perez. No fucking way. You and Jamie enter the locker room and are instantly greeted by the sight of an old friend.
"Anthony, you fucking bastard!" You scream enthusiastically, causing everyone in the room to turn to you, including Anthony. It takes him a second before registering who you were. The moment he does, he raises his arms and you practically leap into him for a hug.
"Oh my god!" Anthony exclaims, as he lets go of you and puts you down.
"I didn't know you were the new assistant!" You lightly smack his arm.
"I didn't know you even worked here!" He defends himself as the two of you turn to find the entire team's eyes on you, including Jamie's.
"Shit, sorry," You laugh as you make some distance between you and Anthony. "Didn't mean to make our reunion so dramatic."
"I assume you two know each other?" Higgins asks and you both nod.
"Anthony and I went to school together," You quickly explain. "From sixth form to uni. Of course, I haven't heard from him in two years." You jokingly glare, causing him to roll his eyes.
"Sorry, I got busy, okay?" He whispers an apology before you both chuckle again.
"Well, I hope your friendship will make it easier to help him get accustomed to the job." You smile at Higgins before the three of you excuse yourself to let the players get ready for training. 
You're so engrossed in catching up with Anthony that you didn't even notice the look Jamie was giving him. 
"They seem close!" Dani innocently says as he puts his shoes on.
"You don't think something is going on with them, do you?" Colin chimes in.
"Well, she's never even mentioned him before, so I doubt it," Sam argues, but Isaac shakes his head. "Nah bruv, that hug was way too intimate for just friends."
"I've seen her hug Keeley and Rebecca like that, too. That might just be how she greets her friends." Jan offers and the team continues to debate it, but at that point, Jamie has had enough. It was already shit having to watch that interaction, but having your teammates talk about it as you pretend not to care? It could not get any worse.
Jamie pulls out a can of body spray from his locker and slams it closed, before turning to everyone. "Can everyone just stop talking about it and get ready?" 
The room goes quiet, as the football player turns around and starts getting changed. The rest of the team exchange looks, before getting ready themselves. Most of them had a hunch that something was going on between the two of you but didn't have any proof, until now. They just hoped they were wrong about you and Anthony, in an attempt to stop Mt. Jamie from erupting.
——
For most players, if something happened right before training that put them in a sour mood, it would mess up their performance on the pitch. Of course, Jamie wasn't like most players. He might be playing even better during that training period. The coaches didn't even have to give him the signal; he was already in 'prick' mode. 
Maybe it was the appearance of Anthony or the fact that you had never been that excited to see him even though he thought you guys were becoming close, but he was playing aggressively and was much more focused than he needed to be for a practice game. The coaches started to take notice after he viciously tackled one of the second teams. 
"Whistle!" Roy shouts, pausing their game. Ted takes a step forward and shouts, "Hey Jamie! Love the passion, but those are still your teammates. Ya'll have a game next week, so better save that attitude for the real one."
"Okay, coach!" Jamie replies through gritted teeth. He takes a deep breath as they continue to play, trying to calm himself down. Ted was right; there was no point in taking out his anger here. Not when the source of said anger was just inside the building.
Once the morning session was over and they were off for lunch, Jamie headed over to Rebecca's office, expecting to see you waiting at the desk outside like you usually were, but instead, he almost runs into the owner of the football club.
"Jamie!" Rebecca exclaims, backing away from the football player to avoid a collision. "What brings you here?" He only needed to glance at the empty table for her to know what was going on. "Oh, well, if you're looking for her, better head to Mr. Higgins' office. She's helping his new assistant get used to the system." 
This causes the player's jaw to clench. Jamie mutters a quick thanks before heading to the Director of Football Operations' office, where he found you hunched over a chair and directing something on the laptop to Anthony.
You had spent the first hour of the day basically catching up with Anthony about what you've been doing the past few years. Once you ran out of stories though, you were forced to actually start teaching him what to do.
You started with the simple things like how to organize the emails, fixing the schedule, and what information to take note of, so you could ask your bosses' about it. Anthony's a quick learner, so you guys were making good progress. Once he practically mastered the routine, the two of you went to the clubhouse cafe to get some early lunch. Most of the food there was pre-packed and they’d usually just microwave it, but over the years, you've developed a fondness for them. You bring back the food to Higgins' office and continue to work on it till you hear someone clearing their throat.
You perk up when you realize who it came from. "Jamie! Hi, what're you doing here?"
Jamie's eyes bounce between the two of you, before settling on your own. "Well, I checked your desk but you weren't there, and Rebecca said you'd probably be here, so I went over here. And now I'm wondering if you wanted to get lunch?"
You move to say yes, but quickly back out when you remember the wrappers on the desk. "Oh, sorry Jamie, Anthony and I just ate something from the cafe cause we wanted to spend the lunchtime working on some emails. Maybe another time?" You try and hide the disappointment in your voice by giving Jamie a small smile.
Jamie's expression falters, but he quickly bounces back. "Sure, no problem. Bye," The football player waves at you — and just you, — before heading back downstairs. He shouldn't be acting like this. Feeling this dejected someone saying she can't have lunch with him?
You weren't fairing that well, either. Your shoulders slump once he disappears from view, then you turn back to Anthony who seems to be holding back a laugh. "What's with you?"
"Nothing, just amused at how even two years later, you still don't know how to talk to the guys you like."
You scoff at his response and hit his shoulder. "What do you mean? I do not like Jamie." You protest, which only causes Anthony to roll his eyes.
"Oh please, it's like you transformed back to a seventeen-year-old the way you got excited when he asked you to get lunch with him." You shake your head, but he continues. "It's clear as day that you have a crush on him."
“That word makes us sound like we're seventeen again," You retort, before redirecting the topic back to the task at hand.
But you knew he was right. Even back in the early days of working here, you couldn't deny that you found Jamie attractive. Anyone with eyes could see it, but he was dating Keeley and was a massive prick, so nothing ever came about from it.
Then, he started spending more time with you, checking up on you and stopping you in the halls just to chat. You realized that he was actually pretty sweet when he was off the pitch and you started to realize that you wanted to spend time with him, not just out of pity like before. Plus, you don't think he's seen anyone in a while, so there really was no reason for you to deny your feelings any longer.
Except, of course, the fear of getting rejected by him and ruining the steady and comfortable relationship you currently have. Which is a good reason, you think. You shake your head and try and continue your work in peace.
After spending your lunch writing up reports, it only took another hour to finish up both your and Anthony's duties, so the two of you update Higgins on your progress and ask if you could observe practice for a bit. He scans through your work, before happily letting the two of you go. The moment you get to the pitch, your eyes instantly look for Jamie who is doing pretty well, to no one's surprise. You join the coaches where they’re standing.
Anthony was already a big football fan, so he was able to recognize almost all of the players on the pitch. In fact, he was even saying things that you weren't aware of, despite your three years of working for the owner of a football club. He bends down to whisper a joke in your ear, but the amusement never hits because soon after, you hear O'Brien groaning in pain. You both look up to see Jamie already helping the goalkeeper up after kicking the ball right into his stomach. 
"Whistle! Tartt, stop fucking injuring your teammates!" Roy shouts, to which Jamie quickly apologizes. The practice game continues, but not without you leaning to ask Beard something.
"Coach, is Jamie okay? He seemed fine when I was with him earlier," You turn your head, as Beard continues to watch the practice.
"He's been playing like that all day. Something must've pissed him off." You open your mouth to say something, but Beard reads your mind. "No, we did not give him the signal." You nod before turning back to the game.
You meet Jamie's eyes as he runs across the pitch, and you take the opportunity to give him a smile and a thumbs up, hoping it encourages him somehow. He only nods his head in acknowledgment before continuing, but you can tell in the next few plays that he seems to be calming down. After a while, you and Anthony decide to head back to the office after Rebecca asks you to send some emails on her behalf.
Jamie watched the two of you head back to the building and tried to ignore that growing feeling when Anthony leaned down and rested his arm on your shoulders. He tries and shakes himself right before continuing the game, ignoring all the possibilities of why he’d do that.
The real reason was that Anthony had decided to tease you, whispering close, "Somebody likes you," in a sing-songy voice. "And his name is Jamie Tartt doo-doo-do-doo—"
That exact remark makes you jab his side. "Shut the fuck up, Anthony. He does not." Anthony lets it go as the two of you reach your desk and he leaves you to do your work, though you can't help but feel warm inside at the thought of it being true.
Once he gets changed after training, Jamie practically ran upstairs to find you. Usually, he'd offer to drive you home and before Anthony, you'd be too tired to be polite and say no. He stopped himself from sending a message to you once he realized that you had already left. Maybe she's with Anthony, but Jamie shakes his head because fuck that. Jamie Tartt does not get hung over a girl. At least, the old him didn't.
New Jamie had been starting to hope that you stayed in the office longer just so he could see you again, even if you would be busy doing work. He sighs as he decides to leave the building when someone jumps in front to scare him. "Boo!"
"Jesus fucking Christ," he exclaims and steps back before seeing you losing your mind over his reaction. "What'd you do that for?"
"I'm sorry," You apologize in between your laughing fits. "I didn't realize how easily startled you were." After a few more seconds, you finally straighten up and lift two plastic bags.
Jamie gives you a confused look, before you explain, "When we went to watch training, Coach Beard said you've been playing like that the whole day which can only mean one thing; you're in a shit mood. And you don't have to tell me why, but,"
You hand him one of the bags and one whiff tells Jamie it's from that Indian restaurant he loves. "I thought some dinner would cheer you up," Jamie gives you a genuine smile, one you got used to seeing but always love when it shows up. “Because there’s nothing rich people love more than free food.” You add, causing him to roll his eyes.
"Plus, I wanted to make up for not having lunch with you, and celebrate the fact that I now actually have the time to do this again." You continue as the two of you walk over to Jamie's car.
You get in the passenger seat as Jamie turns the car on. The two of you have shared dinner there multiple times before, so you practically had a system for it, and Jamie always "pays you back" by giving you a ride home. You open all the dishes and Jamie quickly starts to devour it.
The two of you enjoy the dinner in silence, — except for the occasional "Pass the pita," or something of the sort — till Jamie decides to ask the burning question that’s been on his mind. "So, how did you and Anthony get so close?" It was an innocent question, but one whose answer could either ease Jamie's thoughts or amplify them ten-fold.
You look up at him, mid-bite, and quickly swallow the food, before replying, "Well, you already know we went to school together, but we were actually seated next to each other for a whole semester, so naturally we became close since we saw each other every day."
Jamie starts to clean up the empty containers but signals you to continue. "To be honest, I kinda liked him back then." Oblivious to how tense Jamie just got, you laugh. "But the crush didn't last long honestly, cause I realized that he wasn't really my type." 
Jamie takes the opportunity. "What is your type, then?"
"Oh, hot footballers, naturally." You decide to give a somewhat honest answer, but cloak it in a layer of sarcasm to hopefully throw Jamie off. "Like Richard," You try and convince Jamie with your tone, but you can barely hold in your laughter afterward.
"Oh fuck off," Jamie rolls his eyes, causing you to laugh even harder. "I'm telling him that tomorrow."
"Jamie Tartt, you fucking wouldn't!" You spend the rest of the ride to your flat trying to get him to promise to say nothing, which ends with a pinky promise to secrecy.
The next few days are a mix of hanging out with Anthony, eating meals with Jamie, and finishing up work so you can spend the rest of the day chilling at your desk. You almost forgot what it felt like to have free time and actually relax during work breaks.
You arrive at the clubhouse and immediately head to the Coach's office as per Rebecca's instructions to deliver some documents for the season. There, you meet up with Anthony who also had to bring something to Ted.
When you realize the coach hasn't arrived yet, you decide to wait outside the locker room. Anthony turns to you. "Hey, I forgot to tell you yesterday, but Mina's visiting!" Mina was Anthony's girlfriend and also your former classmate, who once again, you haven't seen in two years. You perk up and ask when you’d get the chance to see her.
Anthony pulls out his phone before responding, "I can make a reservation for us somewhere at, 7 pm?" You quickly scan your mental to-do list and once you realize your schedule is free, you nod.
"Yeah, that works! We'll both be done with work, anyway." 
The two of you are busy planning out your meeting with Mina that you don't notice Isaac and Colin eavesdropping as they make their way to the locker room. From the snippet that they heard, it sounded like the two of you were planning a night out, confirming their suspicions that there was something going on between the two of you.
They share this with Sam, who tries to reason with them. "Friends can go out to dinner without it meaning anything!"
But as they continue discussing it, the more it becomes harder to deny. I mean, the two of you were always together and not to mention, your shared history. They try and hide this from Jamie, — partly to save themselves from the football player's wrath during training, — but once the morning session was over, they crowd him and quickly explain the situation.
At this moment, Jamie didn't even protest their assumption of his feelings — he had accepted that he wasn’t the best at hiding it from them, — and simply stayed silent, which was incredibly worrying. They decide to leave him be and walk back to their lockers, trying to figure out a game plan. They thought you and Jamie would be great together and a guy from your past was not going to stand in the way of their teammate finding someone, not if they have anything to do with it.
Soon after, Anthony enters the locker room and calls out to Sam. The pair walk away to talk and Anthony starts, "Do you happen to have an open table at Ola's tonight? I'm planning to take someone special there and I know how great the food is."
"Well," Sam considers saying that they're fully booked — which big chance, they are, — and there's nothing he could do, but his guilt at even the thought of lying takes over. "Sure, don't worry." Anthony smiles and thanked the player before heading out, but not before promising that he'd send him the proper details later.
Sam heads back to his two teammates and explains what happened, to which Isaac suggests booking the whole restaurant for the team, crashing their date, and making sure they have no alone time together. Colin adds that they can possibly put something in Anthony's food to force him to go home earlier, which Sam quickly shuts down. They turn to Jamie to get his input, only to find an empty bench instead.
Said teammate was already making his way to your desk to talk. Maybe it was the adrenaline from practice or the fact that he drank three cups of coffee this morning after Roy's training session, but he wasn't going to let you go on that date without saying something.
Jamie makes it up the stairs and finds you typing away at your computer. You meet his eyes for a second, before warning, "Hold on, I'm just finishing this email."
The football player decidedly ignores that statement and exclaims, "Don't go on that date." That gets you to save the email as a draft and look up from your screen. Jamie walks closer to you and you stand up, and steer him to a remote corner. If this was what you thought it was, you’d rather not have the entire office witness it go down.
"I'm sorry, what?" You try and clarify.
"Look, some of the boys told me that you and Anthony are going out tonight and I," Jamie takes a breath, "I couldn't let you go through with it. At least, without admitting that I like you. I have liked you for a while now. I didn’t realize that someone could be so sweet and funny and attractive. It’s fucking insane actually, which is why if you haven’t noticed, I’ve been trying to spend as much time with you as I can. And I know it’s stupid of me to not have admitted it till it’s too late, but if by chance you feel the same, then please do not go on that date and instead, maybe go on one with me?”
You take a step back. The guy who you've secretly been pining over for how many months at this point is now trying to stop you from going on a "date,” and so the only thing you can do is stare at him. You stay like that for a second before regaining your senses and taking his hand into yours and giving him a small smile. "Jamie…"
If there was any right time to admit your feelings, this would be it. You open your mouth to continue, but hear Anthony call out to you. You peek over the corner and when Anthony spots you, he quickly shouts, "Look who stopped by!" and moves to reveal Mina.
"Oh my god, you're here!" You exclaim, but turn back to Jamie who has stopped in his tracks and is still holding your hand. You quickly excuse yourself, "It's so nice to see you, but could you actually give me a minute?"
The couple gives you a curious look before Jamie peeks his head over the corner and Anthony immediately understands. The two of them go back downstairs, and you assume Anthony uses the time to explain to Mina what’s going on.
You turn back to Jamie, hoping that the moment isn't ruined, and find the football player still looking at you intently. You decide to get on with it. "Jamie, I don't know why the team thought we were going on a date, but that couldn't be farther from the truth. The girl you just saw is Anthony's girlfriend, Mina, who we also went to school with." Jamie makes an 'o' with his mouth in realization and you lightly chuckle at his expression.
"She's visiting him for the weekend and we're planning to go out to dinner, the three of us, to catch up. I'm basically going to be a third-wheel all night." At this point, Jamie's expression is a cross of embarrassment and anger, likely directed at his gossiping teammates.
Your mind replays Jamie’s confession earlier. "Jamie, did you mean what you said?" Your voice is practically a whisper, but you just have to be sure. "Like right before we got interrupted?"
Instead of giving you a solid answer, Jamie lets go of your hand and cups your face before connecting your lips. It was a soft and gentle kiss as if the football player was still hesitant, but once you reciprocated it, Jamie's confidence came right back. Fuck, and he had every right to be as cocky as he was. He was an amazing kisser.
You're pressed up against the wall, almost getting lost in it, but you break apart to stop it from escalating further when you feel Jamie's hand travel to your thigh.
"Is that enough of an answer for you?" He asks, resting his forehead against yours as you take hold of his forearms. You simply roll your eyes at how easily Jamie returns to his usual self.
You peak down the corridor and thank the universe that no one passed by during this. The two of you separate and decide to head back downstairs — with Jamie never letting go of your hand, — so you could properly greet Mina.
As you walked, you decide to jokingly question, "Were you really that worried about me going on a date that you had to go all rom-com and tell me not to go?" 
Jamie protests, "Well, it's more of the boys' fault, isn't it? They're the ones who got in my head." He pauses for a second. "And don't act like you never wanted something like that to happen to you."
You jab his side and Jamie pretends to be in pain, before laughing it off and slinging his arm on your shoulders. You wrap your arm around his torso. "Only if it's 'one in a million' Jamie Tartt doing it."
You finally find Anthony and Mina in the locker room, with the former introducing her to the players there as his girlfriend. Jamie enters to find the three culprits, looking guiltily at the couple. Minutes after Jamie left, Sam had gotten a text from Anthony saying that their reservation was for three and explained that you were coming along for a reunion dinner with his girlfriend.
The moment they see the two of you enter the room though, Colin, Isaac, and Sam can't help but share a satisfied look, only to be ruined by the glare Jamie sends their way. You laugh at the exchange and only remove yourself from Jamie to greet Mina. You give her a tight hug, confirming Jan's observation that you did greet most of your friends like that.
You pull Jamie towards you and introduce him to Mina, who shares the same teasing look as Anthony. The couple waves at the team to leave and get lunch together. They invite you to join them which you accept, but not before grabbing and squeezing Jamie's hand as a goodbye. The three of you walk away, discussing nearby cafes and restaurants. You hear some cheering from the locker room and you can't help but laugh at how easily the boys reconcile.
Once there's enough distance between yourself and the room, Anthony leans down. "Guess you finally figured out how to talk to boys."
"Who knew it would be Jamie fucking Tartt that managed to get you out of your shell?" Mina adds and you roll your eyes at the pair. They really were made for each other.
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babushkatty · 3 months
Text
Tranquil SAGAU - Part 1
-> Part 2
Your isekai trip (or descension, as others called it) into Teyvat was as abrupt as it was underwhelming.
There were no midnight showers of gold and purple, reminescent of the wishing screen you would religiously open every hour or so, hoping to miraculously have 160 primogems to make another pull. No sudden change in weather as Teyvat welcomed you with the eagerness of a golden lab puppy. No sudden meetings of significant and powerful people (vision holders, archons, adepti or otherwise) that would either scorn you or worship you with the zeal of a fanatic either.
No, it was a very quiet and peaceful affair.
You went to sleep in your bed after another mundane day that was more a blur than a memory, only to wake up in the ruins of Old Mondstadt, on the back of a peacefully sleeping Dvalin -- feeling well rested for what seemed like the first time in years, free of the pain poor sleeping positions and even worse body posture developed into.
Old Mondstadt is so much more beautiful than you remember it being in the game, but it was understandable -- it wasn't a game anymore.
The wind sings the haunting melody of Stormterror's Lair as you simply sit on Dvalin's back for hours, at peace with the world and yourself. You forget entirely about the stress of assignments, of deadlines, of examinations stacked unto one another like a house of cards, of trying to fit expectations of your friends and family that you were never made to fit and simply let yourself be.
You breathe.
It was nice.
"All-Mother." Dvalin rumbles from underneath you and it breaks the blissfull trance. He turns his head to look at you, seemingly not minding you being completely sprawled out on his back like roadkill.
"I'm sorry, Dvalin, I think you mistook me for someone." You smile sheppishly.
He huffs, but instead of sounding annoyed he just seemed... Indulgent. It was a good sign to you, who were pretty much at his mercy -- if he wanted to, he could use you as his personal toothpick and you wouldn't be able to do anything against it at all, so it's for the best that the situation doesn't escalate like that.
Then again, Venti did say Dvalin was a gentle child. You didn't see any blood clot crystals on his neck or back, so you were probably in the clear. Worst case scenario, he'd dump you on the ground and you'd have a bruised tailbone.
He made a damn good bed though, you wouldn't mind lounging on him some more if he allowed it.
"You are the All-Mother, there is no mistake. But it is only natural to deny, you do not remember."
He brings his head back and nuzzles you. You quietly melt into a puddle of happiness as he purrs and rubs against you like an overgrown cat.
He was so soft it was criminal. It was like the 'if evil why hot' trend all over again, except this time it was 'if scary why soft' instead.
"Teyvat will remember for you, even when you do not. Your kindness, your warmth, your care - all shall be paid back in full and more, for you are the All-Mother and like any mother, mortal or otherwise, you deserve to be taken care of by your children."
You don't argue, if only because dragons are known for being stubborn. The atmosphere was too nice to waste on a petty argument.
"Do you know how I got here?" you ask instead.
You don't ask about the way back quite yet. You're not sure you ever would, if you were being honest. It just... Felt right to be here, in Teyvat, instead of back home.
In the back of your mind, you quietly wonder if you should feel guilty about not being attached to your old world, to your friends and family, all that much, but you dismiss the notion quickly. Feeling different than what you were taught was normal wasn't wrong, people were different from one another and trying to hold yourself to an impossible standard just because it was the average would only make you miserable.
Your world was slowly growing more accepting towards differences, perhaps in a few decades your emotional stance would be validated as well.
"Teyvat brough you here, that is all I know."
Dvalin huffs against you and you chuckle, a little ticklish.
You both fall silent after that and simple enjoy each other's presence and the ambience of Old Mondstadt.
Dvalin's willingness to simply be, without chatter or interaction, only made your resolve to stay stronger. No one back home understood your need to simply be in a room with another presence, both people doing their own things, everyone called you odd for it.
It was really nice.
"Call me (Name)."
☆(ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ* ✨ Author Note✨
I'm bad at naming things and I'm bad at tumblr - perfect combination!
It's a gender-neutral post/series (if I write more), I promise! (Or at least I'm trying my best to write it as gender-neutral, you have full permission to yell at me if I slip up so that I can fix it!)
The term "All-Morher" is not meant to assign a gender, it's meant to compare the Creator of Teyvat to a mother (as I tried to clarify with Dvalin), because mothers bring life into the world and the Creator brought life to Teyvat.
You know, like a mother.
Besides, gods are above something as silly as gender or race *gesturing wildly to Loki giving birth to an 8-legged horse*
I am aiming for a very soft and gentle AU, the terms Creator or Your Grace didn't fit into it at all! Teyvat knows its' All-Mother is an utter softie that doesn't care for religious worship and would rather chill, so its' adjusting to fulfill those preferences -- hence, no grand entrance, no throwing its' All-Mother into the deep end by parking their ass in front of Mondstadt gates and no scrambling to survive.
Just a nice, quiet day chilling with Dvalin.
Fun fact, I have never done the Sumeru Quest and I don't have the space for Fontaine, so that's gonna remain a thing for a long, long while yet.
I don't read the manga either.
We D'ballin, ✨who needs lore accuracy anyways✨
That being said, I am slowly going insane because of the windows in-between subjects at Uni. Who made that a thing? I just want to talk, I promise.
Yell at my bad english, I'm an english major so all yelling is appreciated.
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