(Okay, now im fr, also, not Arman friendly, sorry😭)
Time stamp: 9 dec - 17 dec
Arman Tsarukyan × Reader - Cheating
"Tinted Glass"
When you came home I treated you naturally [...] That was our last night of love
You didn't quite recognize the voice, but that was probably the intention. An anonymous call from a number you didn't recognize that, at first, made you think it was a prank call
"He's cheating on you." You barely had time to say hello.
"Huh? Who is this?"
"Arman." What the hell? "He's seeing another girl on the side, they're at your house now, leave him."
Your boyfriend of so many years wouldn't cheat on you, damn it, there's no way, you knew he was planning to propose, he wouldn't do that to you, right?
You were still at work, stuck in an office for a few more long hours. These uncertain thoughts hammered in your head every 10 minutes, until you finally took your hands off the keyboard and stopped to think. Things had been going really well, but naturally, after that pointed comment, you began to doubt your own luck. In the heat of the moment, in the crazy haze that came and went in your mind, you searched for reasons why he wouldn't do that to you, or rather, how he didn't do that to you—you repeated this in your heart like a mantra. The shot backfired. Extraordinarily
And maybe that was what it took for the dots to become the outline of the word "cheater" in bold white like the stars reflecting in his eyes.
Secret conversations on his cell phone that you couldn't see, strange times to go out, commitments that never concerned you or that he avoided at all costs for you to go along with, camps that lasted longer than usual, phone calls that he would leave the room for
As it was almost time to leave work, your blood seemed to circulate through your body with ice cubes inside, calm as you had never been, you picked up your cell phone and sent him a message, "a lot of work, gonna come home late," as usual, he didn't take long to reply, "kay."
You get up from your desk, go to the bathroom and splash cold water on your face, then go to your boss's office, putting into practice the best performance of someone who is feeling ill
You get in the car and drive 50 minutes in 40. You park your car on the street behind your house and walk close to it. Despite it being an almost humiliating situation, you position yourself in one of the alleys that allowed a view of your house and waited. You wait until your heels hurt, you wait until the urge to sit down wins you over and you lower yourself onto the muddy ground, you wait until the result finally arrives.
Already bored and playing on your phone, you hear the sound of your front door opening.
You calm down when you see that it's just Arman leaving the house. You really believed in someone who—who is that woman leaving behind him? Your eyes seem to pop out of your head in surprise
She keeps her back turned at all times, busy talking to Arman, and it even crosses your mind that she might just be a friend of his, but Arman didn't have any female friends. Your reality sets in when he grabs the unknown girl by the waist and kisses her in front of the house where you lived together, which you paid for more than half of because his fighting career hadn't taken off yet. Honestly, men.
They exchange kisses at the entrance and he guides her to the car parked in front of the neighbor's house, which you only now realize doesn't match at all with your neighborhood. He opens the driver's door for her and holds her palm as she gets in, kissing her manicured hand and then her cheek. The woman's face remains hidden by her black hair, but judging by the laughter you hear, she seems happy.
Curious, you stretch your face to try to see her face as she drives past the alley you are sneaking through, but the car windows are tinted.
_____
"Arman, are you home yet?" You call out to him inside the house.
Your keys are on the hook near the entrance, and you take off your shoes and coat, leaving your bag on the floor in the entryway. A veiled anger and hurt make you call out to him as if nothing had happened. He shouts back, saying he's in the living room.
Walking into the living room and seeing him lying on the sofa in just his shorts with the remote control in his hand, you notice things you didn't see before - or maybe your brain just pretended not to see them, because why would you doubt him? - there were no marks left on his body, but his neck looked unusually red, and he had a slightly panicked look that had never been there before
"How was your day?" He tried to avert your eyes from his neck, scratching the red marks hard
Instead of answering, you started to take off your shirt and unbutton your pants "Bedroom, now," turning and entering the room you've shared for two years, as your clothes fell to the floor, the bed caught your attention, different sheets, recently changed, when you left home they weren't these, in fact, you avoided using these because they were stained in one corner.
If Arman noticed that there was something different about your attitude, he didn't comment, it would be giving himself away. So he simply followed you into the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed with the look of a concerned boyfriend who needs to talk about something serious, but he remained silent when you grabbed the waistband of his shorts and tugged them down, signaling for him to take them off, which he did with more hesitation than usual—you're tired, aren't you?
____
His hands squeezed your ass, honestly, the only place you would let him touch you right now. Your knees were already starting to hurt from supporting your body weight as you rode his cock, but it was so addictive the way he filled you, lifting his hips to meet you when you came down, the way your weight made his cock go deeper into your pussy, the way he scratched the inside of your pussy drove you insane.
Looking down, you could see his face, breathing heavily and groaning every time you contracted, his big eyes looking innocent and full of desire that until a few hours ago you believed you were the only one who could see. One of his hands moves down between your legs, dragging his thumb against your clit. Your nails dig into his chest and your movements falter when you feel an orgasm hit you.
Normally, when you fuck, it's common to lose track of time, but this time that didn't happen. Inside your heart, you counted every minute until dawn, storing every phrase and word he said to you, how he held your legs so delicately.
In one of the position changes, he got on top. His chest pressed against yours. Your face on his neck, your arms wrapped around Arman's neck as if in an hug, while he whispered sweet nothings in your ear, opening your legs with those big, calloused hands, filling you with his cock once more until you collapsed with trembling legs and a moan of unbridled pleasure
You stayed in that position for a while longer, taking the opportunity to breathe each other in, he decided to open his mouth "You've been weird, did something happen?" When you didn't lift your head to answer him - you barely have the energy to start a fight - he felt the need to fill the silence "If something happened, you can tell me, we're in this together." You don't look at him, it would hurt too much, so you just agree with your face still buried on his neck.
____
In the morning, when Arman woke up, he thought it was strange that you weren't in bed and looked for you around the house. As he walked through the hallways, he felt like something was missing. In the kitchen, breakfast was already made, but a single mug was missing. When it was time to leave for training, he finally noticed the absence of your clothes in the wardrobe and understood why you were acting strange yesterday. Looking around, the room seemed strange.
___
You put your things in your car, closing the gate quietly.
You get in the car and rummage through your bag, taking your documents, two suitcases with clothes, a mug you bought and the slight impression that you should have gone sooner
