Summary: It's your first Christmas alone, so you decide to go to a bar for lonely people and end up dancing with a stranger under the lights.
Warnings: None. Cute, soft, fluff.
Words: +2.9k
You never thought that your first Christmas away from your family would feel so quiet and painful.
London was shining brighter than ever at this time of year and you couldn't have been more beautiful but you watched it from inside, cell phone in hand, messages piling up in the family group chat, photos, laughter, audio messages sent from another continent.
You couldn't help but feel your heart ache with every memory. You smile, you reply, you pretend you're fine. But when you close the app, the apartment is too quiet. You don't want to be alone. You don't want to be someone miserable who doesn't enjoy their solitude.
You remember that on your way home you had seen a poster advertising a small party in a restaurant for single people, something like "Christmas Eve Dinner" with lights, music and people. And although it seemed like the worst idea at first, you had no other choice. Drinking alone and eating good food in some unknown place sounded better than lying in bed crying because you were alone and far away.
You looked for something cute and comfortable, festive and in your style, combed your hair simply, put on a little mascara and lipstick, looked in the mirror, and decided to go out. Your body trembled at the thought of meeting strangers, and as the elevator descended floor by floor, you began to regret it.
When you entered the restaurant, your regret changed. The place is full. That made you feel less lonely and a smile spread across your face as soon as you walked in when people greeted you cheerfully.
Garlands hang from the ceiling, glasses clink, laughter mixes with soft Christmas carols. There are long tables, strangers sharing impromptu toasts, knowing glances between those who also don't want to be alone that night.
You sit down at the bar, feeling a little nervous and afraid. You take off your jacket and the bartender greets you warmly, serving you a drink.
You look around, people are laughing and celebrating. You breathe a little easier as your body gets used to the feeling and you quickly take a sip from your glass.
"First Christmas alone?" asks a soft voice next to you.
You turn your head slightly and see a guy a few inches away, leaning against the bar, with an almost untouched beer and a shy smile that appears and disappears.
"It's obvious, isn't it?" you reply, laughing softly.
"A little" he admits. "I feel the same way"
You both smile shyly and bashfully. Your eyes meet. Once. Twice. He looks down first, hiding his smile. You smile without realizing it.
You both take another sip from your glasses and your eyes meet again. It's cute. His brown eyes stand out on his pale face, a few freckles dot his white skin, his blond hair cascades down his forehead, a little long but it suits him. He's wearing a black suit and white shirt, nothing extravagant but formal and it really looks good in him.
You turn your head when you realize you've been watching him for a while, dying of embarrassment when his eyes meet yours. Damn. Now you look like a stalker.
Your fingers play with the glass and you finish your drink in one gulp, trying to avoid the moment. As the alcohol goes down your throat, you relax a little more. The guy's still there, which makes you mad. That means two things, either he's being really nice or he really wants to be there.
So you mentally encourage yourself to smile again and turn your head toward him. When you look at him, you find him looking at you too, and you both open your mouths to speak.
"I'm YN"
"I'm Oscar" you both say at the same time.
You both laugh shyly. He reaches out his hand to you and you take it. Your fingers intertwine shyly and you feel a tingling sensation down your spine.
"You're not from around here, are you?" he asks, smiling.
You nod.
"You're not from here either, although your accent makes me doubt it. Maybe... New Zealand?"
"Australia. But that was very close" he replies and you grimace.
He smiles again and your heart beats fast. He has one of the most beautiful smiles you've ever seen.
"What are you doing here?" he asks curiously, and you think about the question.
"In this bar or in England?" you ask back.
"Both"
You smile when the bartender puts another glass of champagne in front of you. Then you take a sip.
"I came here for work five months ago and as for the second part... I honestly have no idea" your words come out with a certain relief, more calm.
"Pathetic, right?" you laugh, somewhat embarrassed.
You were beginning to accept this place, these people, this moment. Especially thanks to the company you had tonight.
"Not at all" says Oscar. "I'm relieved I'm not the only one, so let's toast to that"
He raises his beer bottle to you and you raise your glass, toasting as you smile at each other. Damn. Something inside your chest resonates.
Then he invites you to join the large shared table. He sits across from you and you start talking about simple things, your lives, your jobs, where you're from. You discover that he also arrived recently, that he couldn't travel and that he felt as miserable as you did. Many people here were here for the same reason and that made you feel closer, more comfortable.
You can't help but glance at the smiling guy, who can't stop looking at you and laughing with you at the story one of your new Christmas friends is telling. Then you toast, play games, sing songs that no one finishes well. You laugh more than you expected. At some point, you forget about your phone, the time zone, the nostalgia.
You feel light. You feel at home, even though you're surrounded by strangers and an environment that's nothing like your own. But you had the best time you could have had.
When you look at the time, you're surprised.
"I think I should go" you say with a grimace. "I have work tomorrow"
"I'll walk you" he says quickly, as if afraid you'll leave without saying goodbye. "If you want..."
A kind smile appears on your lips and although you want to refuse out of courtesy, you accept, hoping to spend a little more time with Oscar.
The street is almost empty when you leave, putting on your long coats. London feels different at night, lit up with colors, decorations, and loneliness. You walk side by side, bundled up, sharing comfortable silences. You don't even know exactly where you are. You had planned to take a taxi back but your eyes focus on the clock in the square. It's less than two hours until midnight and everything will return to normal.
For some reason, you don't want to go home. You don't want to go back to your routine, you want to do something different, something that wasn't in your plans.
Like tonight.
"You know what? I don't feel like going home yet" you suddenly confess.
He looks at you, hesitating slightly. Then, a big smile appears on his lips. His knowing look makes you tremble, your heart begins to beat faster.
"The last one to arrive pays for the hot chocolate" he says suddenly, turning his head toward you with a mischievous smile.
"What? That's not fair!" you protest, even though you're already laughing.
You don't have time to react. He runs off without warning and you between laughter and a gasp, follow him.
You run along the sidewalk, dodging puddles of melted snow, passing under garlands of golden lights, the sound of your footsteps mingling with your own laughter.
The world seems reduced to that: the street, the cold on your cheeks, and his silhouette in front of you.
"No pushing!" you yell when you catch up to him.
"Hurry up!" he replies, laughing.
But you overtake him. You speed up just before the corner, and when you brake in front of the small, brightly lit café, you raise your arms as if you've won a marathon.
"I won!" you say, breathless. "I totally won"
He arrives a few seconds later, resting his hands on his knees, feigning drama.
"Okay" he admits. "But I gave you a head start at the corner!"
You roll your eyes, pretending to be offended, but you can't help smiling, and you both laugh as you try to catch your breath.
"Anyway, I would never let you pay for the first date" he says as they walk towards the food truck.
Your pulse quickens. First date. Is this a first date? Because it definitely doesn't feel like one, but you couldn't say no to that.
"I mean... It's not a date... You know what I mean..." He stutters nervously while scratching the back of his neck.
A small smile appears on your lips.
"So you're like my holidate?" you say, biting your lip with a little shyness.
Oscar stops feeling nervous and smiles again.
"I don't really know what that is but yes I'm your holidate" He murmurs confidently as they continue to approach.
Your heart swells when she smiles at you once more. You could begin to get used to that shy smile. To that feeling of warmth and kindness she offered every time he saw you.
The chocolate shop is in front of you and a lady greets you with a broad smile as you order your hot chocolates. He hands you the cup and when you take it, the warmth immediately comforts you.
In silence, you both walk away. The streets are emptier now, as if London had given you this moment all to yourselves. You walk slowly, shoulder to shoulder, sipping hot chocolate and talking about little things, songs you like, cities you dream of visiting, anecdotes that aren't particularly important but feel intimate nonetheless.
You haven't known each other for long. You know that. And yet, there is something about his company that feels safe, easy, as if the silence between you is not uncomfortable but necessary. You laugh at his every comment. He seems to seek your laughter, as if it were a prize.
"Wait" he says suddenly. "Come here"
He leads you to a huge Christmas decoration: white lights, artificial branches, shining stars. He takes out his phone.
"Stand there" he says. "I want to take your picture"
"No" you say immediately. "I look awful"
"Please. It isn't true" he replies, already pointing the camera.
You stand still, somewhat uncomfortable, but you smile anyway. He lowers his phone a little, looks at you over the screen, and smiles in a different way. Softer. More sincere.
"Done" he says, looking at the photo. "It's perfect"
"I'm sure it's blurry" you say, leaning in to look.
He doesn't move. He looks at you through the camera, as if he weren't looking at a photo but storing something in his memory.
"You look very pretty" he says.
"Don't exaggerate" you reply, looking down.
"I'm not exaggerating" he insists. "You're really beautiful."
You feel something in your chest. Something small, but intense. Your cheeks quickly heat up and you hide your excitement by taking out your phone.
"Now you," you say suddenly.
"Me?" he asks, surprised.
"Yes. I want the memory too."
He laughs, but agrees. He stands under the lights, somewhat awkwardly, not quite sure what to do with his hands.
"I don't know how to pose" he says.
"Don't pose," you reply. "Just... stand there"
You look at it through the screen. And for a second you realize that it's not the photo you want to save but that exact moment, him smiling in the middle of London, on a cold night, with hot chocolate and something new blossoming between you.
You take the photo.
And without saying another word, you keep walking. You arrive at a small, hidden square. There is a man playing a romantic Christmas song on a worn guitar.
You sit next to each other on a bench in the square, the cold seeping gently between your coats, the Christmas lights reflecting off the wet cobblestones. The old man plays a slow melody, an old song, one of those that seem to hold stories from another time. The music floats in the air and enters your chest without asking permission.
You glance at him. He is silent, his gaze lost on some invisible point, and you know he is thinking of his family. You are too. At the long tables, in the familiar laughter, in the voices that are far away tonight. There is something shared in that nostalgia that doesn't weigh so heavily because you are not alone.
"What is a holiday?" he asks, leaning close to your ear.
"It's kind of like that person you go out with at parties, when you want to take someone home and there's really no one else..." You explain, trying not to sound weird.
He opens his mouth, acting as if he were always offended.
"So there's nobody in your life..." He whispers.
You barely move your head in denial. Your cheeks are flushing again when he smiles gently.
"Would you like to... dance?" The question comes out like a stifled sigh.
You blink, wondering if you heard correctly. His gaze tells you yes, he really just asked you to dance.
"Dance?" you repeat, almost in a whisper.
You nod but your body doesn't respond right away. You feel your cheeks burning, your heart racing. You're embarrassed, you don't know how to dance, you don't know what to do with your hands, you don't know if this is a good idea... and yet you get up.
You walk together toward the small space where a few couples are moving slowly. Everything seems bigger now. More exposed. You see an elderly couple dancing in each other's arms, with a calmness that is moving, turning slowly as if time did not exist.
"I think... that's how it's done" he says, uncertainly.
He takes your hand carefully, almost asking for permission, and gently places it on his shoulder. You hesitate for a second before settling in. He shyly places his hands on your hips, without squeezing, without invading, as if he were afraid of doing it wrong.
You move a little closer.
You look up and meet his eyes. You feel yourself blushing but you don't look away. You rest your hand more firmly on his shoulder, as if seeking balance and you begin to move slowly, following the music.
He's clumsy at first. One step too many, another too few. But then... something clicks.
You rest your head on his chest. He tilts his face and rests it gently on your head. His breathing is calm. The world around you begins to fade away, the lights, the voices, the cold. All that remains is the music, the rhythm, and that impromptu embrace that feels strangely right.
It's magical.
You dance with a stranger who no longer feels so unfamiliar. Someone you met on Christmas Eve, far from home, just when you needed to feel less alone.
The music continues. And in a moment, you lift your head.
He is already looking at you. His eyes shine like Christmas lights, filled with something you can't name but recognize. You stay like that, looking at each other, without speaking.
You move closer without realizing it. An imperceptible step.
Another one.
When your lips barely touch, the sound of a clock breaks the air.
It's midnight. It's christmas.
The square erupts in applause, hugs, laughter. People congratulating each other, fireworks lighting up the sky. You look at him, surprised, with a shy smile. He looks back at you, hopeful, as if this moment were an unexpected gift.
You feel your body vibrate with happiness.
You stand there looking at each other, without speaking, while the lights explode in the sky and reflect in their eyes. There is something silent but immense in that shared gaze, as if you both understand that this moment will never be repeated.
He smiles first, slowly and you feel your chest fill with an unexpected warmth.
Although you arrived alone that night, you understand something as he squeezes your hand a little tighter.
Sometimes, Christmas isn't about going home.
Sometimes, it's about finding someone who, even though you've just met, makes the whole city feel less cold.
And for the first time in your... you don't feel alone.
The last one for today. Merry Christmas to you all! I hope you have a special day with your families, friends or even just by yourselves 🎅🏼🎁🎄 I love you 🎀
Summary: Where it's your first Christmas with Pedri's family and you need everything to go perfectly.
Warnings: None. Soft, cute, fluff, a little of angst, anxiety attack, etc.
Words: +2.3k.
Barcelona was especially lively this December.
Christmas lights crisscrossed the streets like low constellations, shop windows sparkled with gold and red and the air smelled of roasted chestnuts and mild winter.
From early on, you walked purposefully through the city center, popping in and out of stores with your phone in hand and a mental list that kept growing. For weeks, you had been planning the best Christmas party you could imagine but for it to be perfect, it required time and organization and that was exactly what you lacked. But you were trying to handle it.
"For his mother something delicate but not too formal. For his father something eye-catching and original. For his brother something casual, nothing boring."
You went over it in your head as you entered every store, looking for the perfect gifts for tonight. Each bag you added relieved one worry and created a new one.
It was the first time her boyfriend's family was coming to visit. From far away. And that made you too nervous.
Your first Christmas Eve together.
And you wanted everything to be unforgettable, perfect, flawless. So you had been planning this for hours while carrying out your daily tasks.
When you returned to the apartment late in the afternoon, the living room looked like a Christmas battlefield, open boxes, tangled lights, half-cut wrapping paper, the table still unfinished.
You closed the door with your foot, your hands were too busy holding everything, you put the bags on the floor and let out a long sigh... which wasn't enough. There was still a lot to do, especially all the food and organizing. How could you have left the gifts until last? They were so important! Now you had to do everything in a hurry.
"This can't be" you muttered, looking around. "I can't get everything done"
So you started moving fast. Too fast. You arranged the finishing touches on the Christmas tree with the new gifts, then all the decorations in the living room. You looked for the chairs, the tableware, the tablecloths, etc. You hung a garland that fell down.
The kitchen was the hardest part, first because you weren't good at it. But you tried to put on a happy face and follow all the instructions in your videos. It couldn't be that hard to make galets soup, even though there were several factors that made your simple preparation a living nightmare. You couldn't do anything unpleasant in front of your boyfriend's parents, so you had to get it right or you would ruin all the parties.
Between snorts and despair, something wasn't going as planned, and anger began to build up in your chest.
"Always the same!" you suddenly exploded, slamming your fist on the table. "I want it to turn out right, and nothing is cooperating!"
Suddenly, you felt tears welling up in your eyes. It was the fourth time you had thrown away the preparation with pain in your heart, but it wasn't what you needed, and you couldn't risk ruining the dish or poisoning someone.
The kitchen door opened and he appeared with a calm smile that faded when he saw you on the verge of breaking down.
"Hey... what happened?" Pedri asked carefully.
You barely threw yourself at him to say hello. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you continued to curse under your breath.
"Everything!" you replied, turning away. "Everything is happening. There's not enough time, not enough order, not enough..." You put a hand in your head, feeling uncomfortable.
Pedri took a step toward you, concerned.
"I won't be ready with the main course, I haven't set the table yet..." A muffled sob escaped your mouth.
"I haven't even taken a shower, I don't know what I'm going to wear and nothing is going as I expected!"
The cry comes out like a release as your voice and body tremble and your tears fall like rain.
"Honey, stop for a second" Pedri asks, trying to hold your arms. But you refuse, this is no time to stop, you need to try one more time.
"No..." you say, your voice already charged with anger. "I can't stop, Pedri. Your family will be here in a few hours and I want them to..." Your voice breaks.
"I want them to like it. I want them to feel comfortable. I want them to see that...that this is a home" You keep saying.
The anger begins to dissolve inside you into something more dangerous. Suddenly, the air begins to press on your chest. You take a breath, but it doesn't work.
When you try to take a step toward the kitchen, your vision blurs and your legs tremble, making you gasp for air. Your breathing quickened. Words piled up in your throat.
You almost tripped over your own feet when you felt soft hands grab you and hold you up. Your blurred vision could barely make out the boy in front of you, but you could feel that he was there.
"Look at me, YN" he said in a firm but gentle voice. "Hey, i'm here"
You shook your head, breathing faster and faster. You were fine, you just needed to start over.
"I'm fine, I just..." You inhaled sharply. "I just need... I need..."
Your stutter slipped from your mouth, your heart beating so hard it took your breath away. You could feel everything getting darker, more dangerous.
"YN" Pedri called you, but you couldn't hear him clearly. Your head spun and you suddenly felt nauseous. The discomfort made you tremble, feeling like you were falling into a deep well.
You couldn't breathe. You tried to take a breath, but your chest hurt, and the lump in your throat tightened.
You couldn't.
Pedri took your hands and squeezed them, looking into your eyes.
"Listen to me" he said smiling to calm you down. "Let's breathe together, okay? Like we always do"
Your eyes finally looked at him, and Pedro's bright eyes lit you up, giving you confidence even in the midst of chaos. His hands held yours so gently and carefully that your heart melted.
"Breathe in with me..." he counted slowly. His fingers pressed against your skin, trying to pull you out of the trance.
"One... two... three..."
You tried to follow him, trembling. His hands caressed your arms from top to bottom with every breath, helping you control your attack.
"Now let go" he continued. "Slowly..."
You repeated it once. Twice. Three times. He didn't let go of you at any point. And your storm calmed down, and with it, your heart. He told you once again to breathe, and when you came back to reality, his hands pulled you to his chest, enveloping you.
"You're safe" he said. "I'm with you. You don't have to prove anything to anyone"
Your head rested on his chest, seeking its warmth when you were finally able to breathe normally. Everything had calmed down, your heart, your mind, your soul. The beat of his heart was your safe sound, following yours as you closed your eyes and imagined life by his side.
"I'm sorry" you whispered. "I don't know what came over me"
"Don't apologize for that, YN" he whispered, stroking your hair. "I'm the one who should apologize. I should have been more present, knowing how much this means to you"
You shook your head, moving away from him and looking at him.
"Not at all, Pedri. You've done what was necessary, especially taking care of myself" You say gratefully.
It wasn't his fault; he was already doing too much, helping you with everything he could while he was training.
His hands find your face again and pull you closer to him, touching your foreheads together affectionately. You close your eyes and feel everything slowly fade away. That's the power he has over you. He's able to find the sun in the middle of the storm, your light in your darkness. And that's why you love him.
A soft touch makes you smile when his lips caress yours in a gentle, delicate kiss, as if you were about to break. Although with that, all the pieces of your soul come back together. His hands caress your cheeks, cradling your face as he leaves you breathless, but this time, it's wonderful.
"Are you okay?" he asks when they separate.
You nod slightly, still feeling his face on yours. "I am, baby"
"Good" he said, rubbing your hands together. "Plan of action. You finish with the gifts, I'll take care of the lights. Then we'll both cook the main course, okay?"
Your eyes lit up, surprised.
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely. Besides" he smiled. "I like to see you bossy, but not hyperventilating"
You let out a small laugh, the first of the afternoon.
You were starting to like this more than you thought. You worked together. He hung lights while you finished wrapping the gifts. Christmas music played in the background and the atmosphere began to lighten as you laughed, kissed and smiled at each other.
From that moment on, everything turned out perfectly. The decorations, the table, the living room, the tree, the gifts. Even the dish. The kitchen gods definitely didn't like you very much, because when Pedri tried it under your instructions, it turned out perfectly the first time. You were offended and threw a tantrum. It wasn't possible. How could a dish turn out well if you had never made it before?
Those last few hours, you enjoyed yourself more than you had in weeks and you were so happy to have shared it with Pedri. So when you finished in the kitchen, you both went upstairs to shower before the guests arrived.
When the doorbell rang, the apartment was warm, tidy, and alive. Everything was perfect. Your gaze crystallized as you looked around you. You had done it.
"They're here" you said, nervous again.
He took your hand, you noticed the hem of your red dress. He looked at you, tenderly tucking a lock of hair behind your ear, as was his custom.
"Breathe, baby" he reminded you. "You've already done it perfectly. Look at all this"
An inevitable smile appeared on your lips and your heart raced with happiness. The two of them looked around and it was beautiful. It looked like a scene from a typical Christmas movie, you couldn't believe you'd done that. You two had done it.
"Ready?" He asked, placing his hand on your cheek. You nodded.
Pedri placed a tender and romantic kiss before leaving, walking towards the door while you prepared to receive the visitor.
Pedro's family came in with hugs, affectionate comments and curious glances that soon became comfortable.
The evening flowed with conversation, laughter and shared dishes. You watched everything with a mixture of relief and excitement. Everything had gone more than well. There was no shortage of laughter, conversation and compliments about the food, the decorations and the party made your heart swell with gratitude.
Pedri's looks made you feel safe, comfortable and loved. He couldn't stop talking about you, all your effort, all your work, all your love and you couldn't help but look at him like a lovesick fool.
His mother chatted with you about everything, becoming your sidekick as she helped you with everything, even though you told her it wasn't necessary.
His father couldn't stop laughing with Pedri about his anecdotes, not believing the person Pedri was telling them about, a strong and sometimes clumsy woman, but kind and loving.
His brother couldn't stop teasing you affectionately as he listened to the stories, even making jokes that had you laughing out loud.
Everything was perfect. You felt it deep in your heart.
At twelve o'clock sharp, the glasses were raised and happy smiles soon appeared.
"Merry Christmas!"
Amidst kisses and hugs, carols, drinks, and gifts, Christmas arrived. You couldn't help but feel nostalgic when Pedri hugged you so warmly and tightly that tears stung your eyes. But this time it was out of happiness, satisfaction and joy.
His arms wrapped around your shoulders and he held you so tight that you wanted to collapse into his arms.
"Merry Christmas, sweetheart" he whispered in your ear.
"Merry Christmas, Pedri" you said with a smile.
His lips kissed yours in a tender, soft, and short touch, but intense and intimate. Then came the hug from his parents, finally from Fer and when everyone greeted each other. A group hug enveloped them all in warmth and tenderness.
Then Pedri's mother stepped away and took a small gift from the Christmas tree, coming directly towards you.
"Before we continue" she said with a smile. "This is for you"
You froze. The first gift was for you. Your hands trembled as you hesitated to take it.
"For me?"
"For you" the woman repeated. "For everything you did. Tonight was magical"
You opened it with trembling hands. It was something simple, thoughtful, full of meaning, like a gesture of love and generosity. You couldn't help but let the tears flow again.
"Thank you so much..." you said, moved and grateful.
Pedri's mother hugged you, wrapping you in her arms, and you felt the same warmth and affection as when your boyfriend hugged you. Now you understood everything.
"Thank you for taking such good care of my son"
Your eyes searched for your boyfriend. He looked at her with pride, with love, with that silent certainty that calmed her more than any guided breathing.
And on that Christmas Eve in Barcelona, surrounded by lights, family, and love, she understood something essential. Not everything had to be perfect. It just had to be real and done with love.
#SEXYNOTE: My first language is not English. I apologize for any mistakes. Love ya. 💙
A – After care
After sharing something so private, he becomes impossibly gentle. He tucks your hair behind you ear, kisses your forehead and hold you as if he could keep the entire world away. He listens to your breathing settle and only then allows his own heartbeat to slow.
B – Body part
His favorite part of your body is your smile because it reaches your eyes and softens every part of him. You secretly adores his shoulders, they make you feel safe, like you could lean against him forever and he would never let you fall.
C – Cum
He would use protection, at least until both of you feel safe and decide to do it other way. But when we both decide and with all the necessary control, he would definitely like to join you without any barriers.
D – Dirty secret
He'd like to fuck you in the ass sometime, as long as it's your decision. He'd never force you to do anything, but it's his greatest desire.
E – Experience
He has limited experience, as he hasn't had many sexual partners but he's open to learning every day with you and from you.
F – Favorite position
Any position that allows him to wrap his arms around you, keep you close and see you expression shift with trust. So you'll probably when you ride him or missionary.
G – Goofy
He’s surprisingly goofy, sometimes he’ll kiss your cheek mid-moment just to make you giggle. Your laughter is part of the experience for him.
H – Hair
His hair is almost nonexistent but he likes to keep it shaved when it grows out. But it's not something I'd demand much of, or in fact, he wouldn't. He doesn't interest much in you. It's your decision and your body.
I – Intimacy
Being intimate with you feels like coming home. It’s slow, warm and full of unspoken tenderness. He pays attention to every small reaction, cherishing each one. His touch is INSANE. And he likes to touch.
J – Jack off
He doesn’t think about it much anymore. Ever since you became part of his world, he prefers the anticipation of your next moment together.
K – Kink
He's the talkative type who says sweet, romantic, or dirty things. It depends on the situation. But he's very vocal in every sense.
L – Location
He loves intimate spaces, the warmth of a bedroom, a soft couch or anywhere you can curl into each other without distractions.
M – Motivation
His biggest turn-on is seeing you walk around in your t-shirts and without underwear. When you're looking for something in the kitchen and he can see your panties. It drives him wild.
N – No
He would never raise his voice at you, never make you feel small, never ignore you needs. His boundaries revolve entirely around your comfort.
O – Oral
He likes to give but also to receive, even if he doesn't say so. He loves soft kisses slow ones, lingering ones, ones that make you sigh into his mouth. But he definitely loves it when you kneel between his legs and make him feel like he's in heaven.
P – Pace
He prefers a gentle pace, learning you bit by bit, savoring you trust and the way it grows each time. He is romantic, thoughtful and caring. It's his personality, that's how he likes to show you his love.
Q – Quickie
He has no problem with them because he understands that there are times when they are necessary but he prefers to spend time with you always.
R – Risk
He likes taking risks, obviously. So yeah, he'd like to take risks with you. Having sex in the car, or in the locker room, even in the bathroom at some racetrack.
S – Stamina
Normally 2 to 3 rounds but if he's really horny he'll have you in the morning and then in the shower.
T – Toy
He’s open to using anything that makes you feel more cherished or pleasant.
U – Unfair
He playfully teases you soft kisses that stop too soon or compliments whispered at the perfect moment. He loves seeing your shy smile.
V – Volume
He is not silent. Not at all. Heavy and ragged breaths, loud moans, even swear words.
W – Wild card
Your body vibrated with joy when you saw his car park at the sign announcing the winner. You applauded proudly when he got out of his car, still wearing his helmet and suit. The mechanics beside you waved happily as he ran towards you. He greeted everyone with hugs and congratulations, until he reached you. Your big smile was the first thing that greeted him, and then you jumped onto his shoulders, your fingers anchored in his neck and he squeezed you so tight you felt the warmth of his body.
"I'll wait for you in the dressing room in fifteen minutes" he whispered over all the shouting. Your cheeks flushed and you barely nodded.
Waiting for him in his dressing room was the hardest part, you were nervous and aroused. You weren't going to lie, you knew he'd come any minute and that made you happy.
When he entered the room, his suit was tied at his waist with an easy knot, his cheeks were still red from the heat, and his hair was damp. He looked so radiant after that victory.
"Hello there" he greeted you while holding you by the waist.
"Hi baby" You responded by stroking the beginning of his damp hair.
You both smiled happily, gazing into each other's eyes. He kissed the tip of your nose and then pressed your foreheads together. A fleeting, passionate kiss united you in desperation when you could no longer bear it. His hands grabbed your butt and lifted you off the floor, walking with you until you hit the wall. A gasp escaped your lips as you approached him, his hands wandering over your back and shoulders.
"Maybe you don't want me right now. I'm sweaty and smelly but..." he said but you didn't let him finish.
"Believe me, this is when I want you the most, Oscar" You say, biting your lip.
His smile widens when he kisses your lips again, this time more fleeting but wet and deep.
"Sweaty, smelly, angry, happy, win or lose. I don't care, I just want you" You whisper while looking at him and caressing his cheek.
Oscar's eyes light up like fireflies in the night. He shakes his head, smiling.
"Damn and I thought I was the horny one here" He murmurs playfully, and you laugh with him.
"Oh darling, I've been wet ever since you folded the first curve" You joke, rubbing your nose against his. Oscar gasps, gazing deeply into your eyes.
"Show me then" He says this before pressing his lips to yours again.
X – X-ray
He’s well-proportioned, average, but it's more than enough. He knows how to use it perfectly with you, and that's a big plus.
Y – Yearning
He can miss you intensely even after just a few hours. His desire is connected to his affection, the more he loves, the more he want you. So his appetite is something constant.
Z – Zzz
He sleeps peacefully afterward, one arm around your waist, holding you close, His face buried in your neck or hair, his fingers embracing your chest, his body pressed against yours.
Could you do Kenan yildiz pls I have technically two separate request one a NSFW alphabet, and another one like their SafeWord and her having to use it while there you know love your writing btw around❤️❤️❤️
A to Z —Kenan Yildiz.
Summary: NSFW alphabet with Kenan.
Warnings: Yes. +18. Smut.
Words: +800.
A – Aftercare
Afterwards, he doesn't leave your side. His hand caresses your bare back, his mouth brushes your shoulder with soft kisses and his whispers envelop you like a warm blanket. As if sex were just the beginning of everything he wants to give you.
B – Body part
He loves your lips, not only for how you kiss him but for what you whisper when you're about to break for him. And you... you can't stop looking at his hands, the way they hold you, caress your skin and make you feel alive and loved.
C – Cum
He probably uses protection, it makes him feel safer, and he doesn't think that's a barrier to feeling you. He always says your name just before he comes. Low, hoarse, like a prayer. And then he lies still, panting against your skin, as if that moment had saved him.
D – Dirty secret
Sometimes he masturbates thinking about how you moan his name. About how you arch your back, how you look at him when you know you have him wrapped around your finger. And other times... he fantasizes about things he hasn't dared to tell you yet.
E – Experience
It's not about how many times he's done it before. It's about how he studies you, how he learns every inch of your body as if it were a sacred map. With you, everything feels new and urgent.
F – Favorite position
He likes it when you're on top, not out of laziness but out of devotion. Because that way he can see how you lose yourself, how you move to provoke him, how you control him even though deep down, he's still the one holding you.
G – Goofy
Sometimes he laughs when his hands get tangled up with your legs or when you both end up panting in an impossible position. It's laughter and desire. Love and lust in the same breath.
H – Hair
Every now and then he shaves it completely and lets it grow back just a little before doing it again. It's more of a habit than anything else. He doesn't care at all, whether it's him or you.
I - Intimacy
It's not just sex. It's how you look at each other. How he holds your face as he enters you. How he asks you not to close your eyes, because he wants to see you when he breaks inside you.
J – Jack off
He does it thinking of you. Always. But he never comes without imagining your voice, your skin, the exact sound you make when you give yourself completely.
K – Kink
He likes you to guide him. To whisper in his ear what you want, what you need. He likes to talk, to tell you nice and dirty things, how much he desires you and how much he loves you. He obeys with devotion, because your pleasure is his greatest addiction.
L – Location
Anywhere he can have you fast and hard... and then slow, until you both tremble.
M – Motivation
Your nails on his back or neck, When you gently caress him in bed or on the sofa. Something so tender and intimate, it turns him on very quickly.
N – No
There is nothing he does without your consent. Even in his darkest desires, he seeks you out with his eyes, waiting for your affirmation. Your yes is his beacon.
O – Oral
He loves it. Not just the act itself but the power it gives him. Seeing you lose your mind between his lips. Knowing that he can make you tremble with just his tongue makes him smile with pride.
P – Pace
He can start gently, like a prolonged caress. But when you feel you need more, he gives it to you hard. With rhythm. Until it all becomes too much.
Q – Quickie
He's had you against a wall, in a bathroom, in an elevator. Brief, intense, hurried... but just as devoted. Sometimes he can't wait. Sometimes neither can you.
R – Risk
Sometimes he wants you to hear him pant your name in a place where you could be discovered. Not for exhibitionism but for the adrenaline. For the taste of secrecy.
S – Stamina
He can last. And he does. Because he loves giving you everything, over and over again. Even when you're already trembling. Even when you think you can't take any more.
T – Toy
He's willing to experiment. If it means seeing you bite your lips, if it means discovering a new way to adore you, he'll try it without hesitation.
U – Unfair
Sometimes he plays with you. He barely touches you. He leaves you on the edge, with the most wicked smile on his face. But he only does it to reward you in the dirtiest and sweetest way possible.
V – Volume
He moans softly, very close to your ear. Dirty words mixed with soft confessions. As if each time were a mixture of desire and love that he cannot control.
W – Wild card
One night he woke you up in the middle of the night just to worship you. Slowly, without rushing. As if the world didn't exist, just your body under his.
X – X-ray
It is long and thin. It's not the size that matters but how he uses it to make you feel desired. And he knows how to do it.
Y – Yearning
He's a young adventurer who's experiencing love like never before. So he's probably very needy. I'd say about 5 or 6 times a week.
Z – Zzz
Afterwards, he stays hugging you, breathing against your neck. Sometimes he murmurs "I love you" without realizing it, just before falling asleep with a satisfied smile.
Something smutty about eric and the new mask pleaseeeeee
Behind the mask —Eric García
Summary: Request.
Warnings: Yes. +18. Smut, p in v, unprotected sex, mdni, explicit content, etc.
Words: +2.3k.
The house is quiet but you can't be quiet inside. Your breathing is rapid, your hands restless, your mind trapped in the image that hasn't left you all day. Your leg moves unconsciously as you bite your nails, trying to focus on your movie but nothing helps you concentrate.
You look at the clock on your phone and are overwhelmed by the realization that it's late but you don't want to go to sleep. You bite your lip at the memory of him running across the field, his black mask tight against his face, his eyes burning with a concentration that allows you to think of nothing else but him.
How the hell can seeing your boyfriend play a game with a new mask protecting his beautiful face affect you so much? Maybe it's his sharp gaze in it or his precision in holding and maintaining the ball or maybe it's the crazy ideas in your head.
When the front door opens, you almost jump. A small smile of relief appears on your face as you turn your gaze toward the entrance.
Eric enters slowly, greeting you with his typical shout that he's home. His training bag hangs from his shoulder, while his protective mask hangs from his hand. His shirt clings to his body from dried sweat. His muscles are tense, still charged with the adrenaline from the game.
And when he looks at you...
God. You feel helpless.
You quickly walk over to him and wrap him in a warm hug. Eric holds your waist affectionately and kisses your head tenderly.
"You did great today, baby" you say proudly about his game.
Eric smiles broadly at you.
"Thanks, honey" he replies, kissing your lips softly.
When his arms wrap around you, you feel the hardness of the mask caressing your body and you laugh.
"You were wearing it today..." you whisper playfully, almost pressed against his neck. "And you looked too good, baby"
He raises an eyebrow, surprised. His cheeks turn a light red.
"It makes me look ridiculous"
You shake your head gently, running your fingers along his jawline.
"Not ridiculous"
You lean in close to his ear, brushing his earlobe with your lips.
"I'd say... hot"
Eric opens his mouth in surprise and you let out a seductive laugh. He immediately notices the strange gleam in your eyes.
"You think so?" he asks, somewhat shyly, without taking his eyes off you.
You touch his forearm, his mask, the edge of his T-shirt. You don't speak.
He frowns slightly at your silence. You lift his chin with two fingers, boldly, provocatively, eagerly. His fingers brush your hips dangerously and you can feel the heat in your body.
"It's just that..." you whisper, "I saw you today. And I can't get that image out of my head"
He lets out a low, dangerous laugh. The kind of laugh that makes you tremble and your heart race.
It's a strange situation. You don't even recognize yourself but seeing him there tonight, running with the ball and wearing the mask. You didn't have to imagine much, you just let your fantasy run wild.
"With the mask?" he asks, a little more boldly, moving closer. "Did that do something to you?"
You nod innocently. His eyes hide a more intense color when he looks at you. His gaze changes. It becomes darker. Deeper. More dominant.
In a second, he grabs you by the waist and pushes you against the wall. Not violently... but with absolute authority. With power. Your hands hold onto his neck, caressing his warm skin.
"Look at me" he orders.
You do. Without thinking.
"Tell me what you imagined when you saw me wearing this" he says, lifting the mask.
Your voice trembles.
"That you were... different. More intense. More hard. More... savage"
He squeezes your waist. One of his knees slides between your legs and you gasp as he spreads your legs to position himself between them, the air beginning to leave your lungs. The heat in the room transforms and you both look at each other hungrily, needily.
His lips brush yours and you feel his breathing become irregular. He wants to kiss you. You want to kiss him. But you're too focused on each other's gazes to do anything.
"Put it on me, YN"
You blink when his request comes loud and clear. You swallow and lower your hand to his chest, brushing his hard skin. Eric gasps when you take his hands and bring them closer to the mask.
When your fingers brush the soft plastic of the mask, you smile and lift it toward his face, carefully lowering it under his hot gaze. You place the mask perfectly on his face, holding it with the straps.
The knot in your lower belly tightens when he lifts his head to look at you... he's transformed. He's no longer your sweet boyfriend. He's not the tender boy who hugs you after every game.
He's another version of himself.
More dominant.
More confident.
He takes your wrist and pulls you closer, forcing your bodies together. You look at him as if he were a god fallen at your feet.
"Ask me nicely" he whispers, brushing your ear with his mouth. "I want to hear you"
A silent sigh escapes your mouth and is trapped in his. You want to scream at him to fuck you but you swallow hard, searching for calm within yourself.
"Fuck me, Eric" you say breathlessly. "Fuck me with the mask on"
You gasp as you say it, your mind conjuring up the image. That turns him on completely.
You can't breathe when his lips press against yours, kissing you fiercely. Although you don't have complete access to him because of the mask, which covers half his face, you hold onto his shoulders, hugging him.
He takes your hand and pulls you toward him, making you bump into his firm chest. Then he lifts you up in his arms, strong, determined with the kind of dominance that leaves you without resistance. He carries you to the bedroom and lays you on the bed as if you were something precious and dangerous at the same time.
He gently tilts you back. His lips don't touch yours yet. He just breathes on your mouth. Your breaths mingle as he moves between your body, caressing your skin as you gasp at the friction.
"You have no idea what you do to me" he growls.
He controls the rhythm, the distance, the lack of contact, until you become a trembling sigh in his hands. He leans over you, the shadow of the mask falling over your lips.
"Tell me what you want" he orders in a deep voice.
"I want..." your voice fails you, "I want you. With the mask"
He smiles behind the mask. He moves closer, his lips brushing yours, his breath mingling with yours, but he doesn't kiss you yet.
He makes you wait.
Feel.
Desire.
He gets closer, close enough for his honey-brown eyes to light up in the shadows of the mask. You sit up, trembling, and bring your hands to the sides of his face.
His hands lift your pajama top, revealing that you're not wearing a bra and are wearing bow panties, which drives him crazy. His hand slaps your butt, hitting it hard as you moan desperately.
The heat between your legs gets worse and worse as you watch him carefully take off his shirt and pull down his shorts and boxers. Damn. You'll never tire of this perfect man.
Your fingers caress every inch of his tanned skin, from his shoulders, pecs and stomach, where you melt at his hardness. He leans down and kisses your neck slowly and dirty, leaving marks that make you scream his name. He moves closer to your chest and you tremble when his mask touches the skin of your breasts, panting and grabbing his hair.
His mouth takes one of your nipples and plays with it as you push him closer to you, feeling your body begin to tingle.
"Eric" you moan overwhelmingly. "Please..."
You can't take another second like this. You just want him on top of you, inside you, in every way possible. He smiles mischievously inside the mask and gently pushes you onto the mattress, taking your legs as he sprinkles kisses on them until he reaches your panties. His fingers wrap around the elastic and pull them off your legs completely.
He licks his lips when he sees you're ready for him. Even from miles away, he can see how wet you are. You've probably been like this since the damn game started.
"Tell me, love" he whispers, slowly returning to your face. "Did you get wet watching me play with the mask?"
His fingers probe your hot center, making you gasp and tremble. Your eyes can barely open from the need, you just want him to touch you. His skilled finger finds your clitoris and presses it lightly, making you arch your back. The stimulation is so intense that with a single touch he has you dripping for him.
"Yes, damn it! All night long" you gasp with a muffled sigh.
His hands continue to caress your center while his mouth takes your nipples again, making you squeal. You can't take it anymore. You're a mess. He makes you a mess.
When you're close to orgasm, Eric lets go of you and you moan tensely but quickly smile with relief when he positions himself between your legs. He takes one of them and lifts it onto his shoulder, opening you up more for him.
The dripping tip of his cock caresses your hot hole, getting wet with your moisture, preparing for what's to come. You swallow hard when you feel him at your entrance, Eric's gaze fixed on the union of your bodies, where his cock begins to make room inside you.
With a desperate moan, he sinks completely inside you, reaching deep into your center due to the position. The cry comes out of your throat loaded with pleasure, need, and desperation, feeling him deep inside you. It's magnificent. It's glorious.
You gasp as he begins to thrust hard, hitting your sweet spot as he pulls back toward you, taking your mouth intensely. His kiss is hard but deep and romantic, as he continues to fuck you roughly.
His thrusts become violent, loud, as your hands wrap around the sheets, feeling the fibers of the fabric creak. It's too good, the way he fucks you, fast, hard and deep, making you scream like crazy.
All you can hear is the dirty sound of his kisses, his heavy breathing, his muffled moans, his brutal thrusts, the sound of his love.
Your hands move to his body, caressing his lower back, his muscles, and landing on his face covered by the protective mask. Slowly, as if you were discovering a treasure, you lift the mask and remove it, throwing it somewhere on the bed.
You love his eyes.
The look he hides behind that mask, the intense color that captivates you so much. Maybe the mask was a fantasy, a metaphor, your true desire was there, in his perfect eye sockets that drive you crazy.
Eric looks at you.
Those honey-brown eyes, bright, deep, full of all the love, desire and devotion he never knows how to express in words, captivate you completely.
He takes your face in both hands, firm, determined, totally dominant but completely yours. Your gazes connected, reduced to that moment, lost in each other. But suddenly, the intensity diminishes.
He holds your face with both hands, as if you were something fragile that he would never dare to break, even in his most dominant version.
He looks at you. So close that you can feel the tremor that he too is trying to hide.
"You have no idea..." he whispers, touching your cheek with his thumb. "What you mean to me, YN"
You caress him behind the neck, feeling him tense up, his movements becoming slow but sure, hitting you hard. He doesn't even need to try hard, he goes so deep and makes you tremble with every thrust.
You feel the orgasm surprise you explosively as Eric holds on to you, thrusting harder until he reaches climax. And finally he returns to your lips, slow, deep, filled with something that is no longer just desire.
It's love.
And as he wraps you in his arms, slipping between the sheets, holding you as if you were the only truth in his life.
He kisses you one last time before resting his forehead on yours. And you hug him, sinking into his heaving chest. Your place in the world. Because there's no other place you want to be.
Hi. Can you do Cubarsí friends with benefits type. Just like the Pedri one
The type or Friend with benefits —Pau Cubarsi.
Summary: Request.
Warnings: Yes. +18. A little of smut, headcanon.
Words: +900.
1. Pau is the type of friend with benefits who makes you tell him when you get home, even if he's the one who drove you there. He wants to know when you're inside and if everything is okay.
2. Pau is the type of friend with benefits who says he's not jealous but stays silent when someone else looks at you or talks to you too much. Especially his teammates.
3. Pau is the type of friend with benefits who covers you with his jacket when you leave the bar in the early hours and it's cold.
4. Pau is the type of friend who fucks you slowly but deeply, he has a very expressive way of saying things he can't say in words.
4. Pau is the type of friend with benefits who stays chatting with you in bed long after you should have said goodbye.
5. Pau is the type of friend with benefits who invites you out for a drink "as friends" but looks at you like he wants much more.
6. Pau is the type of friend with benefits who always sits next to you when you go out in a group and hugs your chair from behind or grabs your thighs, as a warning (to others).
7. Pau is the type of friend with benefits who secretly loves when you take control and get daring with him.
8. Pau is the type of friend with benefits who sends you memes at 3 a.m. just to see if you're awake and keep the conversation going.
9. Pau is the type of friend with benefits who hugs you around the waist in the kitchen while you're cooking something together "accidentally" until you feel his bulge against your butt.
10. Pau is the type of friend with benefits who loves it when you sit on his face, using his tongue on you is his favorite pastime.
11. Pau is the type of friend with benefits who denies being romantic but buys you your favorite snack without you asking.
12. Pau is the type of friend with benefits who accompanies you to events or outings with friends.
13. Pau is the type of friend with benefits who holds your hand without realizing it when you're walking down the street.
14. Pau is the type of friend with benefits who loves your breasts and has an unhealthy obsession with them. He could look at them or touch them all the time (if he could).
15. Pau is the type of friend with benefits who watches you when you fall asleep before him, strokes your hair, or hugs you to his chest, as if he wants to protect you.
16. Pau is the type of friend with benefits who falls asleep next to you after talking about deep things he would never confess to anyone else.
17. Pau is the type of friend with benefits who promises you he won't fall in love... but every day he doubts it a little more.
ur smuts are chefs kiss🤌🏻 do you write for ferran torres? if so, would you do one with him? maybe vacation/anniversary smut?
My number one —Ferran Torres.
Summary: Ferran being jealous when you meet your old school friend on your anniversary vacation.
Warnings: YES. +18. Smut, jealousy, some toxicity, p in v, unprotected sex, riding, mdni, etc.
Words: +1.9k.
It was your third anniversary together. A year of love, learning, challenges half-conquered and hugs. The Maldives was a place you never thought you'd visit but you were happy to get to know. Ferran had done it. You didn't expect him to do anything big. You didn't want anything that grand, just to be able to spend a nice anniversary with him wherever the two of you were, as long as you were together. But when you saw the itinerary in your inbox, the flight, five-star beachfront hotel, reservations for romantic dinners and more, you almost cried. He smiled at you with that mixture of pride and tenderness.
"Ferran, this is... Magnificent" you say, your eyes shining with surprise.
"I couldn't give you anything less than paradise" he said, caressing your cheek.
And paradise was real. The tropical island with sand as white as flour, crystal blue waters, palm trees dancing in the wind, and bars hidden among warm lights and live music. The hotel had balconies overlooking the sea, an infinity pool, and that scent of coconut and salt that enveloped you from the moment you stepped inside.
The days passed with walks on the shore, sweet drinks by the pool, afternoons reading under an umbrella and nights of slow caresses in cool sheets. It was the perfect getaway. And he was your favorite person. You were so happy to be able to celebrate three years with the love of your life, Ferran Torres. The one and only, angel of your life.
That night, the third of the trip, was special, he had even chosen the third day to represent your three years together. He was so thoughtful. He had booked dinner at the luxurious hotel restaurant, right where the sea met the sky. Candles, thin glasses, white tablecloths. You wore a soft, wine-colored dress with bare shoulders, something simple but attractive.
Ferran couldn't stop looking at you. On the way to the dining room, he kissed your shoulders, making you laugh or caressed your butt discreetly while kissing your mouth passionately. You were so happy and having so much fun that night.
"I'm dating the most beautiful woman on the planet, did you know that?" he said as he gallantly pulled out your chair.
"And I'm with the most perfect man on the universe, did you know that?" You thanked him with a quick kiss on the mouth before sitting down and he followed your movements.
You ordered fresh seafood, homemade pasta with truffle sauce, and a white wine that went down like holy water. You ate slowly, sharing jokes, memories and plans for the future.
After dinner, you decided to walk along the beach to the hotel bar. You were already relaxed and satisfied with the food, needing a good rest and a few more drinks.
The atmosphere was relaxed, with chill-out music, hanging lights, wicker armchairs and a bar decorated with seashells. The air smelled of piña colada and a faint fire. You ordered a fruity drink. He ordered a whiskey.
You sat in armchairs near the beach, people coming and going the whole time. Some danced quietly under the moonlight, others laughed and chatted around them. Everything was so beautiful. The atmosphere, the music, the drinks, the moment.
"Gabriel?" you asked when your gaze focused on a guy approaching the bar, a little further away from you.
The guy turned around and his smile was instantaneous.
"Y/N! It can't be... is it you?"
A former high school classmate. A friend you had growing up, funny, outgoing with whom you shared afternoons studying and typical high school memories. You got up from your seat and he approached you. You hugged nostalgically, still surprised.
"I thought I'd never see you again" he murmured nostalgically as they looked at each other.
And honestly, you didn't expect to either. After moving to Barcelona, you thought you'd never see your high school friends again. You had all moved on with your lives and each had forged your own path.
"It's good to see you again, Gabi" you say happily as you smile at each other. You both hear a cough and quickly pull away from each other.
Your boyfriend, standing next to you, smiles. Tense. Forced.
"This is Ferran" you introduce him. "My boyfriend"
They shook hands and barely exchanged words. Gabriel was friendly but quickly turned his attention back to you. You began talking about your past, reminiscing about embarrassing and funny memories from their youth as you laughed and drank.
Ferran sighed amid your laughter and chatter.
"Did you go to the same school?" he tried to join the conversation.
You looked at him and nodded.
"Yes, we lived in the same neighborhood. Gabriel was one of those guys who sat in the back and made everyone laugh, a bad boy" you said, looking at your friend knowingly.
"And Y/N was the good girl who didn't dare to answer out loud but she wasn't really as good as everyone thought" he added, winking at you.
You playfully hit him on the arm as they laughed out loud.
"You were a bad influence" you reminded him.
Ferran clenched his jaw. He looked at you and you smiled slightly before continuing to talk to your friend. Memories flowed like water as you continued drinking.
His fingers sought your thigh under the table, as if claiming a place without words. You, still smiling, gently moved your leg away not giving it any importance but you noticed how his expression hardened.
"Don't you think it's time to go back, sweetie?" he asked, after a few minutes of feeling ignored.
"Already?" you asked, surprised.
"Yes, it's been a while since we left" he continued. You grimaced.
"But there's nothing else to do there, let's stay a little longer, baby" you asked playfully, pouting.
Ferran thought for a few seconds and shook his head, finishing his drink.
"You stay here, I'll wait for you in the room" he said before getting up and waving goodbye.
Not even a kiss. Just a curt, brief gesture. But you let him go. You weren't going to insist, it was clear he wanted to leave and you would soon be going with him.
"Is everything okay?"
"Yes, of course... I'll be right with him" you said, uncomfortable.
A few minutes later, you said goodbye to your old friend. You thanked him for the evening, you hugged as you used to in the old days, and you said goodbye to him. Then you walked to the room with a mixture of emotions that were difficult to sort out.
When you opened the door, as you took off your shoes and put down your bag, you called out to Ferran but no one answered. You walked a little further in and found him face down on the bed, still wearing his shirt, his face buried in the pillow.
"Ferran?"
Nothing.
"Aren't you waiting for me to go to sleep?" you asked sweetly. He didn't answer either. You only heard a snort.
"Is something wrong?"
You hear him snort, but he still doesn't answer.
"Babe" you call him. "Really?"
Silence.
You approached the bed and sat down next to him. One of your hands caressed his back, moving in a circle. He barely moved his head. Your fingers felt the tension in his skin. It was clear that something was wrong, and you began to sense it.
"Tell me what it is" you whispered. Ferran hesitated again.
"Are you... jealous?"
"No" he murmured, barely audibly.
You hide a giggle as you continue to stroke his back.
"Then why the scene? Why did you leave like that?"
Ferran shook his head, still against the pillow and you decided to climb on top of him, sitting on his back. Your hands went to his shoulders and you began to gently knead his muscles.
"Tell me, baby..." you whispered.
"Were you... jealous of Gabriel?"
He gasps in response as your fingers continue to massage his tense shoulders.
"I'm tired, that's all" he murmurs softly.
"Oh, if that's all, then you should rest" you say, getting up from his body.
As you're about to get off, Ferran quickly turns around and catches you in his arms, sitting you on his abdomen. He was serious, frowning, his eyes filled with frustration.
"I didn't like it. I didn't like seeing you laugh with him, how you seemed to forget I was next to you. You didn't even look at me."
Bingo. An amused smile appears on your lips, Ferran snorts again with his eyebrows raised.
"My baby is jealous" you joke, playing with his cheeks.
A feeling of fun and love appears in your stomach. Jealous Ferran was probably your favorite, his serious face, his eyebrows together, his pouty lips, his darker eyes.
"Come on, leave me alone" he tries to get away from your game as you continue joking.
You move closer to him and your lips gently and lovingly take his. It's a tender and romantic kiss. Even Ferran couldn't resist. He immediately grabs your waist and pulls you toward him, making you gasp and laugh. His anger wasn't going to last long.
You're aware that you've lit a spark in the room. The laughter shared with your friend, the knowing glances, the way you lean toward him, have made his gaze darken. You remember how your boyfriend's brow furrows, his lips tighten in a gesture that is both adorable and irritating. You loved it. The little flash of jealousy in his eyes makes you feel powerful and, let's admit it, a little mischievous.
That spark of jealousy is something you've learned to appreciate in him and today, more than ever, you find it endearing.
You pull away from him, your heart still pounding. His lips are red from the kiss, and you laugh when he growls in frustration.
He looks up, and although his expression is serious, in his eyes you can see the internal struggle between desire and frustration. You bite your lip, feeling the electricity between you intensify. You know this is the perfect moment to show him that what happened before was nothing more than a game.
You move closer, brushing your body against his, feeling the heat emanating from his skin.
"You don't have to be jealous, honey" you whisper seductively, your fingers tracing his arm.
Ferran sighs, rolling his eyes and you laugh again, cupping his face lovingly. His dark eyes sparkle as yours hypnotize him; you can see the stars shining like flashes in his dark brown irises. He is simply beautiful.
"Gabi... he was just an old friend. I was surprised to see him. That's all"
"It wasn't just that. He wasn't your friend. It was you... laughing at a world I wasn't in, the way he made you smile, how your eyes sparkled when you remembered that time... I felt invisible."
Your voice sounds calm and strong. You shake your head.
"Oh, love..." You caress his face. "You were there. With me. You always are. But you can't ask me not to have happy memories with someone else. He was my best friend but I promise you he was, is and will always be just that, a friend"
"I don't want my place to be in doubt. I'm terrified of losing you..."
"It never was" you said sincerely, interrupting him, and rested your forehead against his. "And it never will be"
"You're still my number one, Ferran" you say with love, holding your face.
"And you're the only woman who makes me feel this way" He makes a funny face and you laugh together.
He looked at you intensely. That mixture of anger, desire and need for forgiveness. For validation. For love.
"You drive me crazy, YN" he whispered. "When you don't give me your attention, I feel like I can't breathe. It's stupid. But that's how it is."
You smiled, opening your mouth as if you had discovered a new planet in the galaxy.
"So yes... you were jealous. My baby admits he was jealous" you teased with a smirk.
He rolled his eyes, but his hands went to your waist, sliding up under your dress.
"And now you're unbearable" His nose bumped gently against yours.
"And what are you going to do about it?"
Instead of answering, he turned you around, ending up on top of you. He kissed you intensely, hungry for redemption, for tenderness. But also carefully. Your fingers tangled in his hair, his hot body against yours, his mouth moving down your neck as all the anger dissolved in the touch of his lips, in the forgiveness that was said without words.
"I love you" you said, in a whisper between kisses.
"I love you too even when you make me angry" he replied, laughing softly as he caressed your cheek.
This time, you're the one who turns them over on the bed and ends up on top of him again. You are both aroused. You have been since the first kiss, enough so that a touch makes you both moan as you feel your intimacies collide. Your shoulders tense as you feel the wave of pleasure in your belly.
He closes his eyes and for a moment, he seems surrendered. Surrendered to you. You take advantage of that opportunity, leaning toward him and kissing him softly again.
The kiss begins softly, like an apology, your lips caressing his with so much love that you melt but need takes hold of you and soon it becomes something more passionate. His hands find your waist, pulling you toward him, and you feel every part of his body respond to your closeness. You are determined to make up for his anger, to make this moment unforgettable.
Your hands desperately seek his pectorals, touching his hard skin. He helps you take off his shirt and you undo his belt yourself to remove the white linen pants he wore tonight for his dinner on the beach. A smile appears on your lips when you look at him, his boxers are already swollen and your fingers caress the edge, he gasps and you lick your lips playfully. Ferran lets out a stifled laugh.
He lifts you up slightly to unzip your dress but you stop him and push him back onto the bed. Your hands go behind your back and you slowly unzip your dress while looking him in the eyes. You take the straps and move them off your shoulders, feeling your skin burn. Ferran's hands run over your thighs, making you gasp as he approaches your buttocks. You move a little and pull the dress down completely, leaving you in your red lace lingerie set. A mischievous smile appears on his lips when you look at him and you both laugh like fools in love.
With a quick movement, you climb on top of him again, this time Ferran manages to lift himself up against the headboard to face you. Your hands embrace his strong shoulders and you kiss wildly as you begin to touch each other.
His lips bite yours as your fingers wrap around his neck, your breasts brush against each other and you can feel your nipples harden against the thin fabric of your bra, causing some pain.
His hands run down your almost naked back as his fingers grab the hook of your bra and quickly unhook it, as if he were an expert. Finally, he removes it from your body as you continue kissing. His hands cup your breasts and you moan into his mouth when he squeezes them to his liking, making you tremble. Your hard nipples are finally treated by his fingers and although you prefer his mouth, you gasp with relief.
You move slowly on top of him, your wet center gently caressing his hard bulge and you both moan in unison. The feeling of his body beneath yours makes you sigh with pleasure. It may be a moment of reconciliation, but it is also the beginning of a more intense connection. His eyes light up with surprise and desire as you look at him through your eyelashes, your body moving rhythmically against his.
Your hands quickly seek to pull down his boxers when you feel desperation run through your body, and Ferran's hands roughly rip off your panties, making you smile. But you don't care, not at all. Right now they were nothing more than an impediment.
You settle on top of him, stroking his cock even though you don't even need to when it pops out of your underwear. On its pink tip, you can see the presemen ready, waiting for you and you can definitely feel your hot wetness calling for his cock.
Gently, you take his cock and place it at your center, caressing yourself with it, feeling your body spasm. Ferran takes your ass and kneads it, waiting for you to sink onto him and when you feel you're ready, you do. You feel your center open up, swallowing his entire cock as you both moan with pleasure.
You stay there for a moment, sitting on top of him with the sensation tickling your stomach. Ferran kisses your shoulders and caresses your lower back affectionately.
You sigh when you can feel him deep inside you. Deep inside your heart. Not just in your center but in your soul. It's a feeling beyond sex or any pleasure. There are no words, only looks and gasps of love. And finally, after a few seconds, you start to move on top of him.
Your bodies fit together perfectly as he helps you mount him, his hands never staying still on your body, not to mention his mouth, which takes your nipples as you bounce on top of him.
Every movement is a dance, a game of seduction that consumes you both. You feel him deep inside you, uniting every part of you in a symphony of pleasure. He clings to your thighs, guiding you, helping you find the rhythm you both desire. The atmosphere heats up and the air fills with your sighs and moans, creating an intoxicating melody that belongs only to you.
Your heart pounds, and you lean into him, whispering sweet words that mingle with the intensity of the moment. The heat between you intensifies and you feel time stand still. Every touch, every kiss, becomes an act of devotion, of total surrender. You are completely lost in him, in the way he makes you feel.
In the end, when you both reach climax, it's as if the world fades away. You sink into his embrace, feeling his body tremble beneath yours. Laughter and playfulness transform into something deeper, a bond that goes beyond jealousy, a connection forged in passion and desire.
When it's all over and the air is calm again, you lie down next to him, feeling his still-ragged breathing. He looks at you with a mixture of adoration and amusement, and you know that, despite the initial mischief, you have managed to create a moment that you will both remember for a long time.
The rest of the night was a mixture of laughter, caresses, sweet words, and an unspoken promise that in this paradise, beyond jealousy or misunderstandings, you were choosing each other once again.
Look who's back! 😉 I hope you're all doing well and enjoying this ✨🩷
Hello! How are you? Yes, i'm okay. Thanks for asking babe 🩷 I apologize, college and work really took over 😭. I miss spending time here and I miss you all. But one day I'll come back and you'll know it 😚💐
Summary: How would some of the drivers react to seeing you with their teammate?
Warnings: none. Jealousy, fluff, soft, cute, etc.
Words: +1.4k.
Charles Leclerc.
Murderous looks.
He watches you from afar with a frown and a tense jaw, as if trying to decipher every word you say to Lewis.
He crosses his arms and doesn't look away, making it clear that he is measuring every gesture.
When you approach, he blurts out, "What does he have that I don't?" in a tone that is half joking, half serious.
He pretends to be busy on the phone, but his eyes always return to where you are. He sends you emojis every second while you continue talking to Lewis.
He leans in to whisper, "I don't like it when you let someone else get so close to you." Even if you ignore him again, he'll keep insisting.
When you get home, he hugs you from behind and murmurs, "You're mine, you know that?"
Lando Norris.
Jealousy disguised as humor.
When you greet him in front of Oscar, he says loudly, "Ah, I didn't see that smile when you greeted me."
He comes up and puts his arm around your waist, as if marking his territory.
While you're talking to Oscar in the garage, he comes up behind you and makes exaggerated jokes like, "Well, if he asks you out, let me know so I can make plans."
He takes advantage of any moment to steal a kiss right in front of him, slap your butt, or interrupt you with nonsense while you're talking to Oscar.
He sends you a message from across the office: "Don't forget who makes your coffee in the mornings, babe."
He winks playfully when he sees you laughing with the young man.
Fernando Alonso.
Protective mode activated.
He watches you and takes a step closer, as if he wants to come between you and Lance.
He asks, "Everything okay here?" in a relaxed tone but with an intense look. When you ignore him, he throws a tantrum, as if he were two years old.
He offers you his coat even though you're not cold, just to be more present. He tries to follow your conversation, even though he's completely lost.
He may feel a little jealous of how close you are in age and how well you understand each other's youthful interests. He would definitely make a joke like, "You're not thinking of trading me in for someone younger, are you?"
Then, in private, he would act a little cold until you have to convince him that you don't care about Lance or anyone else but him.
He ends the day by inviting you to dinner to "make up" for his attitude.
George Russell.
Territorial romantic.
He gently strokes your back while you talk to Kimi. He knows you're not flirting with him and that he shouldn't feel jealous, but he can't help it.
He takes every opportunity to brush your hand, as if by accident, to get your attention.
He tries to interrupt you by saying, "Come here, I want to show you something," even if it's just an excuse and he doesn't really have anything to show or tell you.
He whispers to you, "Kimi is flirting with you and you're letting him." When you tell him it's just a kid, he'll still stick to his guns.
He sends you an audio message during the break: "I can't stop looking at you, you're so pretty. And mine."
Before leaving, he kisses you on the forehead, in front of everyone. Looking specifically at Kimi.
Lewis Hamilton.
Vengeful type.
He stands behind you, brushing against you slightly so you feel his presence. He won't move from there while you're talking to Charles. It's uncomfortable, but he'll do it.
He whispers something in your ear that makes you blush just when the other person is looking.
He jokes, saying, "Careful, I get jealous easily."
He plays with your hair while you continue talking to his partner, even when he joins the team. He marks his territory.
He looks at you with a crooked smile and says, "You're going to have to make it up to me for this jealousy later."
At home, he ends up kissing you as if he wants to erase any memory of that conversation and remind you that you are his.
Max Verstappen.
Competitor mode.
He responds faster than his partner every time you ask him something. Not only is he fast on the track, he will also be fierce while you talk to Yuki.
He would definitely look at him with his awkward smile while you talk, a fixed and torturous gaze that intimidates Yuki.
He sits next to you at the meeting even though it's not his place, you tell him to go with the team but Max will refuse.
He glances at you every time you laugh with Yuki, sometimes furrowing his eyebrows, mocking your laughter, despite your grimaces.
He sends you a 👀 emoji in a message when you're very close to him.
Then he says, "I'm not going to lie, you made me a little jealous but you know... i always win" smiling.
Carlos Sainz.
Sarcasm in action.
He comments sarcastically, "I see you have a new best friend today."
If Alex gives you something like coffee or something to eat, he would say something like, "Well, unfair competition." Although you both find it funny, you take advantage of it to make him angry.
He puts his hand on your shoulder gently, but very visibly. His fingers caress your hair and skin as he joins in the conversation.
He winks at you and adds, "Tell me later how funny Alex is. I'm sure Lily won't like knowing that you laugh at her boyfriend's jokes."
He speaks to his partner in a joking tone: "Watch out for my girl"
He would give you a short but intense kiss before leaving for training while Alex continues to talk to you about the test, taking the opportunity to make another funny but jealous move, such as slapping your butt.
Lance Stroll.
Quiet but intense.
He doesn't say anything, but his gaze is a sea of warnings. He would stare at you without interrupting; he doesn't need to do too much.
He gets close enough to hear what you're talking about, staying on the sidelines but keeping an eye on everything.
He plays with your hand under the table without Fernando noticing. He doesn't want to make a scene, but he wants you to know that he has your attention.
He subtly caresses your waist when no one else is looking.
When you leave, he just says, "I didn't like that scene very much." Maybe because he knows you tried to make a scene to make him jealous but didn't succeed. He would never act like that in front of anyone, no matter how jealous he was.
When you get home, he kisses you calmly, but with more passion than usual. He wants to let you know that he's angry but that you're his.
Oscar Piastri.
Mini drama queen.
He says, "Well, I see you don't need me today," in a feigned hurt tone.
He walks away a little to see if you notice. When you ignore him, he'll come running back with some silly excuse.
He sends you a message: "Have you replaced me already?" while he's in his part of the garage and you're with Lando in the other part.
He comes back and hugs you tightly: "No way, I'm not leaving."
He caresses your cheek and smiles: "You look beautiful today." He might even make some kind of statement to the press flattering you to get your attention.
That night he hugs you longer than usual.
Pierre Gasly.
Playful jealousy.
He comes up to you and whispers: "If you only knew what I'm thinking right now..."
He gives you a quick kiss on the neck to interrupt the conversation. He's not just jealous, he's furious.
He pretends he needs to talk to you urgently to get you out of there. He tries to interrupt you, gets your attention, takes you to the dressing room, says he needs you.
He caresses your hand and intertwines his fingers with yours. He strokes your hair or back, affectionately and with a hint of jealousy.
He says something like, "You know he's not like me, he couldn't even handle you." He'll probably make wild and sarcastic remarks.
He ends the day by pampering you more than usual to get your full attention back and make you forget the moment.
#SEXYNOTE: For @angelamck. Thanks for the request I was really hoping to do some Lance 💙 I hope you enjoy it! Love you ✨
A - Affection
Lance always finds unexpected ways to show that he thinks about you, from leaving you a note hidden in your wallet to sending you a silly photo to make you laugh in the middle of work. He can't help but smile when he sees you, even if he tries to hide it. He loves any kind of physical contact but tries to be careful not to bother you.
B - Best friend
He can talk to you about anything, he trusts you and he knows that you will give him realistic advice to help him. You are the kind of friends who understand each other with just a glance and who make up inside jokes that no one else understands.
C - Cuddles
He pretends he doesn't need them, but if you don't hug him one day, he'll complain with a silly excuse. He loves it when you snuggle up to his chest and play with his shirt.
D - Domestic
Because he has lived most of his life alone, he is very good at helping with household chores. He does everything without you having to tell him or remind him, and he tries to do it before you do to save you time. Even cleaning together becomes fun because he always ends up putting foam on your nose or dancing while sweeping.
E - End
If something isn't working, he'd rather talk about it than disappear. He's a straightforward person, even if it costs him relationships. He can't stand leaving you with doubts or closing a chapter without things being clear.
F - Fiancé
He's not one to plan weddings on the first date, but when he truly falls in love, he starts dreaming about houses, trips, and even what your Sundays together will be like in ten years. He wouldn't hesitate to ask you if you truly love and understand each other, he's also quite confident in that regard.
G - Gentle
Although he doesn't say it much, Lance is incredibly attentive. He notices if you're cold, if you've eaten, if something is bothering you, and he always finds a way to make you feel comfortable when you're with his family, friends, teammates, fans, etc.
H - Hugs
Yes. He is a man of hugs. He loves days when there are no plans and you can stay in your pajamas, cooking something delicious or watching movies while cuddling.
I - I love you
You were probably the first to say it and it took Lance a little longer not because he didn't feel it, but because he can be a little shy in that regard. It wasn't the typical prepared declaration, it slipped out in the middle of a laugh, and you knew he meant it by the way he looked at you afterwards.
J - Jealousy
He doesn't make a scene, but you can tell when something bothers him. He becomes quieter, glances sideways at the person involved, and, if he can, he'll come closer to make it clear that you're with him.
K - Kisses
His kisses strike the perfect balance between tenderness and desire. He likes to surprise you with one on the back of your neck or on your cheek when you least expect it.
L - Little one
He's a charmer with children, even if he doesn't admit it much. He always knows how to make them laugh and has no problem building sandcastles or inventing games. Does he want to have children? Probably, but in the future. First, you need to live your lives and be ready.
M - Morning
Sometimes he wakes up before you just to watch you sleep a little longer. Other times, he tries to make you breakfast... with results ranging from delicious to hilariously chaotic.
N - Night
He loves to talk to you late at night, when everything is quiet, when you are both calm. He will tell you about his day, the car, the meetings, the team, his performance. He wants to know your opinion and have your support. Sometimes those conversations end in laughter, other times in confessions you would not dare to make during the day.
O - Open
He is direct and sincere, even when it comes to sharing his fears or insecurities. With you, he feels he doesn't have to pretend. That's why you're together and he respects that trust.
P - Patient
He would never pressure you about anything in your relationship, whatever it may be, he would wait for you. He can wait as long as you need, even if that means accompanying you in silence until you're ready to talk.
Q - Quizzes
He remembers things that even you forgot you told him. He loves to remind you of silly anecdotes from the beginning of your relationship to make you smile, even though you think he should have forgotten them by now.
R - Remember
He keeps all the spontaneous photos you take when you travel, go home, go to races, at home, with your pets, etc. He knows that, for you, those little things are big stories.
S - Security
Lance is your safe place. No matter if the world outside is upside down, he will always have a hug that makes you feel at home.
T - Try
Even if it's hard for him, he'll try for you. He really makes an effort to move forward with you, to grow together and improve in whatever way he can.
U - Ugly
He's a guy who wears socks, so he leaves them everywhere. It bothered you at first, but now you find it kind of cute. He also has a habit of zoning out. Sometimes when you're talking, Lance zones out to who knows where, and then you have to start over, but it doesn't bother you. Sometimes it's even funny.
V - Vanity
He likes to smell good and look his best for you. Even though he says it's no big deal, he loves it when you look him up and down and smile.
W - Whole
With you, he feels like everything makes more sense. It's not that he needs you to be complete, but with you, life is more beautiful.
X - Xtra
He gets excited about simple plans, but he also loves to organize little surprises to make you feel special. Maybe taking you somewhere in the secret, private world or walking together in an amusement park in Montreal.
Y - Yuck (What he hates)
He can't stand indifference. He'd rather listen to you when you're angry and have an intense conversation about what's going on than deal with the silence that separates you. He knows that silence breaks relationships, and he doesn't want to break you or your bond.
Z - Zzz (Sleep)
Even when he's fast asleep, he always tries to hug you or at least touch your hand. He says it helps him sleep more peacefully.
Summary: Getting pregnant by your best friend was a mistake you both made but Hector broke your heart and that will be his mistake forever.
Warnings: Yes. ⚠️ Angst, sad, discussions, unexpected pregnancy, mental and physical discomfort, etc.
Words: +2.4k.
#SEXYNOTE: This is done for entertainment purposes, I'm not trying to judge or hurt anyone. If you've been through something like this or are going through it, I want to tell you that you are strong and you can do it all. If you need someone, I'm here, and you don't have to do it alone. There are people who will support you. Be strong, stay healthy and love.
"YN?" your friend called out, tapping your arm.
You turned to look at her, confused. Your mind was lost in the conversation your friends were having, you hadn't even heard a word they said. You hadn't done it yesterday or today and you probably wouldn't do it tomorrow either.
"We were talking to you" she whispered, pointing to the others. "You looked like you were on Mars" she teased, laughing.
You shook your head with a fake laugh. Although she wasn't lying, your mind had literally been everywhere but reality for the past few days. Everything had changed a few days ago when you received news that left you frozen. Your life was a mess, or rather, your life had been a mess since you found out you were pregnant.
Yes. Pregnant.
And not only that but pregnant with your best friend's child.
Your damn best friend. Hector Fort. That idiot you've had a friendship with for over fifteen years. You had met in kindergarten when you were little and had been inseparable ever since. But that's all you were. Friends.
How had it happened? You were such an idiot. You couldn't even swallow it yet, how was it possible? It had never crossed your mind at this point to be a mother. All you know is that you had been feeling awful for several weeks and that your period hadn't come for several months. But you thought it was normal because of stress. How had you not thought of that before?
You had been hiding it like a champ, hiding from Hector, ignoring his calls, pretending to be fine and hiding the symptoms and that little belly that was starting to grow.
It all happened four months ago when you had the wonderful idea of sleeping with your best friend, Hector. Your childhood friend and classmate, now that you were in your last year of high school and wanted to experience everything. How could you have believed it wouldn't be a disaster? You were drunk and horny, the worst combination. You'll never drink at a stupid teenage party again and let your best friend walk you home.
Shit, now it all sounded so stupid. How could you even forget that you were hormonal, stupid teenagers? How could you not be careful? Every second of that moment echoes in your head, making you regret everything. You trusted Hector so much but sometimes trust ends up ruining everything. And you had ruined it.
It was your last year of high school before choosing your paths and going your separate ways, but you already had a bigger problem, carrying the responsibility of being a mother. Because even though you considered having an abortion and even looked up everything you needed to know with all the relevant information and help, you decided not to do it.
You just couldn't.
"Y/n" your friend called you again. "Again, what are you thinking about?" She turned her face toward where your gaze was focused.
Héctor Fort. The captain of the school soccer team, a handsome and talented boy who was beginning to rise to fame with his talent on the field.
"Did you fight with Hector?" she asked, noticing that you quickly lowered your head.
Your legs trembled as you remembered the night before when the tests came back positive. It was a disaster. You couldn't even believe it.
"No" you said slowly, shaking your head. "I remembered that Mom wants me to invite him to her birthday party, and I wanted to let him know" you lied, pretending.
"Then go" he said obviously with a grimace.
"Later" you whispered, playing with your pen on the table. Another lie again.
A strong feeling of fear invaded your body, tightening your chest. When the first wave of nausea hit, you got up from your seat, pretending nothing was wrong.
You walked almost running to the bathroom, where you threw up everything you had just eaten for lunch, feeling sweat accumulating on your forehead. Oh no. It was the first time this had happened to you at school. Would people notice? Would they judge you? Damn it, right now you wanted to cry.
How were you going to endure so many months like this? How were you going to hide it until you left here? What would your parents say? You couldn't even imagine it. It was obvious that it was going to be a disaster. Starting with the fact that you had to tell Hector that you were pregnant with his child.
After washing your face and drinking some water, calming your nerves and anxiety, praying that your body wouldn't fight you again, at least until classes were over.
Luckily for you, that's how it went. When school was over, after saying goodbye to your friends, you headed home.
"Y/n!" you heard someone shout in the distance. When you recognized the voice, you pretended not to hear and walked faster.
The hurried footsteps grew louder, letting you know he was getting closer. You cursed internally.
"Hey you" he said with his agitated voice approaching.
"Hector" you said seriously, without any emotion.
Your stomach churned, but you sighed and quickened your pace to get home.
"Wow" he muttered, trying to catch his breath beside you. "First you ignore me for weeks, then you pretend not to hear me, and now you don't even say hello properly?" he said, confused and ironic at the same time.
"First, I wasn't ignoring you. Second, you know I have a history of deafness thanks to my grandfather. And third, that's your damn name, Hector" you spat, crossing your arms as you continued walking. You wanted to get away from him as quickly as possible.
He didn't say anything, he was just surprised by your attitude.
"You're angry" he said. You rolled your eyes, ignoring him.
"If you came to bother me, you better leave, I'm not in the mood"
"What the hell is wrong with you, Y/n?" he asked. "I've been trying to call you all week, you don't answer my messages and you don't come down when I go to your house" says confused.
"I've been studying, you know" you say, barely shrugging your shoulders. Your steps start to get faster, trying to get away from him.
"Are you serious? Will you keep doing it?" He asks exhaustedly, reaching you again.
You didn't say anything, you just kept walking. You just wanted to get him out of your life before it was too late.
You tried to take another path but Hector kept following your footsteps. Trying to catch up with you more and more, calling your name every time you ignored him.
"Stop it" he said, grabbing your arm as you climbed the steps to your front door.
"Stop following me or I'll call the police" you warned.
"Really, Y/n?" he asked, offended. "You'll call the police?" he sneered. "I'm your best friend, I don't understand what the hell is wrong with you and you're going to tell me right now" he ordered seriously, still holding your arm.
"Nothing's wrong with me, go away" you said, breaking free of his grip and turning away.
Bad decision.
Dizziness caught you off guard, rocking you as that pressure in your stomach returned. You tried to breathe, holding the air in but another wave of dizziness came over you and your stomach churned.
Shit. Not again.
You quickly opened the door to your house, running weakly to your bathroom, where once again, upon entering, you expelled the last of the food in your body into the toilet. You were grateful that no one else was home at that hour; your parents were at work.
"Y/n?" asked Hector, running after you, entering your house, worried.
When you heard your name on his lips, you vomited again and your eyes filled with tears. It couldn't be real. Why hadn't he left yet? What else did he want? You had asked him to leave.
"Go away!" you screamed with tears in your eyes, feeling bile rise and fall in your throat, expelling it again into the toilet.
You heard your best friend's footsteps approaching, and when he stepped into the bathroom, your body trembled. Your gaze focused on the small device on the counter and you tried to run to grab it but it was too late.
The tests...
You focused on the boy who was now looking at the pile of tests on your dresser, the tests you had taken over the weeks. You had accumulated them, trying to understand if it was real or if there was a massive flaw in them. But that wasn't the case.
There was a sharp silence. Your stomach almost growled in pain. You quickly tried to grab it but Hector had reached out and taken one to look at it closely.
"W-what is that?" He took them, paralyzed, and all you did was grab them back with one hand.
"Go away, please" you asked, crying. Your head was still spinning, and the whole situation only made it worse.
Why wouldn't he leave? You didn't want to see him. You wanted to be alone. To cry and remind yourself how stupid you were for this.
"Are you... pregnant?" he stammered in surprise.
You wanted to deny it. You wanted to say no, that they weren't your tests but you couldn't say anything. You just let out a loud sob that you had been holding back since you found out. That word sounded so loud in your head that every time you thought about it, you cried.
"How is that possible?" he kept asking.
"It just happened. Let it go, you better go home" You got up from the floor, wiping away your tears.
You dodged his body, leaving the bathroom after washing your face. You needed some air, you needed to be alone. Hector was still there. Paralyzed.
"Who's the father?" he asked, following you until he reached you.
"It doesn't matter, just forget it" you begged again.
Stupid. You thought, wanting to punch him in the face. He was the only stupid one. He had ended up inside you, and now he dared to ask that.
"Is it mine?" he asked.
An electric current shot through your back, making you tremble.
Yes, you thought.
"No" came out of your throat.
Hector stood still for a few seconds, then sighed as if relieved. And he looked at you with eyes you had never seen before. It was disappointment. He was judging you. He looked at you as if it were your fault.
Your eyes filled with tears. Your whole body trembled under his gaze, and you felt so inferior at that moment that you wanted the earth to swallow you up.
You hadn't been with anyone else after him, so how could he think that of you? How could he think you were capable of sleeping with anyone and getting pregnant? It had been a mistake. His mistake. Your mistake. Both of your mistakes.
That feeling inside your chest hurt. Why did it hurt? Hector and you were just having fun, so why did it hurt now that he thought you had slept with someone else? Why did you want to scream at him that it was his baby? Why did your chest hurt when you saw him «happy» after lying to him?
"Are you going to have an abortion?" he asked after a silence. You narrowed your eyes and shrugged your shoulders. "You don't want to have a child at this age, much less with just any father. You're not even ready for this" he said harshly.
Your heart broke. You sighed before saying anything else. Your ears were dull, you couldn't even think. You just wanted to scream and cry.
"Are you listening to me?" he snapped harshly.
You can barely hold his gaze without breaking down completely. Nothing turned out the way you expected. Everything is a disaster. You can't take it.
"It would be best if you don't have it. It would be your biggest mistake, Y/n" he continues, and your pulse quickens. "It's not what you want, trust me"
"Who do you think you are to judge me?" you ask in a whisper. Hector snorts.
"I'm your best friend, the only one who's always on your side, but this..." You interrupt him, unable to listen to him anymore.
"It doesn't seem like it!" you yell. "You're not my friend. If you really were, you'd be supporting me instead of this!"
"I'm supporting you, YN, but this isn't something you want..." he insists, and with every word, your heart breaks a little more.
"Hector, go away, I'm not going to say it again" you ask, holding back the tears in your eyes.
Your best friend grimaces, shaking his head.
"I'm helping you, why do you want me to leave? If you decide to have that baby, you'll end up doing it alone because no one will want a child at this..."
"Go away, you idiot!" you yell, interrupting him, tired of his reproach.
You grabbed the first thing you had in your hands, which was a coffee cup you had left in the kitchen that morning and threw it at him with pain and disappointment, but missing him by miles. You just wanted to get that feeling out of you, you didn't even want to hurt him. You couldn't. You could never do that. But he was hurting you. Hector was hurting you.
He nodded, looking at you one last time with those eyes, those eyes of pain and disappointment that invaded your mind.
"So don't come back looking for me when you need me, when you're alone..."
Then he walked slowly until he disappeared through the door.
You fell to the floor, letting your tears flow, running down your cheeks, soaking them. Feeling your heart overflow with pain and sadness as you remembered his words.
In tears, you held your small belly, caressing it. Wanting to forget him, in every way possible. But your mind replayed all your deepest memories with Hector over and over again.
Why did it hurt so much?
Your fingers trembled over your belly, not yet bulging enough for others to notice, but already so present, so real, so yours. Tears cloud your vision, mixing with the cold sweat left by the argument. Your throat burns from the shouting, from the words he said. From the words you said too.
The silence is deafening.
Everything feels broken. The house, your chest, your memories. But above all... your image of Hector.
You hug your knees, still on the floor, trembling, alone. Alone with your decision. With your mistake. With your promise. With that little life beating inside you that you never asked for, but now—amidst the chaos—is the only thing you have. The only thing that didn't disappoint you.
What if everything was wrong? What if you were a disaster? What if no one was ever going to love you again?
But then, you feel something in your broken heart. It's as if that tiny part inside you is reminding you that you're still here. That you exist. That you breathe. That even when the world falls apart, you can get back up again. And not because of him. Not because of your parents. Not because of what people will say.
Because of you. Because of that version of you that cried, yes. But that was also brave. That faced your best friend with your heart on fire. That dared to move forward even when you were afraid. That didn't let guilt or shame convince you or crush you.
You get up off the floor. Your legs are still shaking. The mirror shows you your swollen eyes, your messy hair, but also something else: a new strength. Fragile, yes. But real.
"We're going to be okay" you whisper, barely audible.
You don't know how. You don't know when. You don't know if you'll be able to tell your parents tomorrow or if you'll need weeks. You don't know if you're going to raise that child alone or if life will put someone in your path who won't make you choose between love and dignity.
But for the first time, you don't need to know everything.
For the first time, you decide that your story is not defined by an accident. Not by a mistake. Not even by Hector.
Your story begins now. In the midst of fear. In the midst of pain.
But also in the midst of the purest love you have ever felt.
