#OR someone else more determined could
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Could you spin Mike or any of his alters? Like Vito, Mani, Mal, etc.
And here's our favorite mentally ill italian! I unfortunately cannot make spinnies of any of the alters (yes, even Mal and Svetlana) since that would require alot of editing :(
#Mozzaskrella#maybe if i get far along in some of my AUs and don't loose motivation by then i'll make them#OR someone else more determined could#td mike#art reqs#total spin cycles#aaand i've made every spin req in my inbox so far!
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so the head housemaiden (euphrasie was it??) not only knows about wish craft, but was trying to channel it somehow to use against the king? is this related to her breakdown at the end of the loop? does she recognise that wish craft is causing this and thats why she starts breaking down?
And whilst we're on the subject, what does she mean when she says "i hope you can forgive--" forgive who? and forgive them for what?
#i dont think i even mentioned it before. but ive been thinking about the forgive thing for a while#siffrins really determined that it was someone elses wish that caused the time loop but i still dont buy it#the more i think about it the more sure i am it was siffrins wish that caused this#because lets be real. they never would have outright asked if they could stay with or even visit the family members#not with THESE communication issues#isat liveblog#isat#isat spoilers
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My FL main went through some really weird, organic development over the...oh god, I think it's been five years since I started playing now.
So my main is named Skadi Larkin. They are a little bastard. They started out extremely 2D; I named them after my favorite Norse goddess and the protagonist of the book I was reading at the time. I originally wanted to make them female like both of their namesakes, but the second I saw the third-gender option, I thought it was too good to pass up. This is where they got their primary base characterization as a mad scientist who wanted to Cause Problems.
Then I started the Nemesis ambition and forgot which option I'd chosen for who I was trying to avenge, so they lost both their lover and their older brother under tragic circumstances (only the lover was killed by Nemesis's antagonist, though).
Then I got an Exceptional Friendship and had to give my tragic backstory in order to gain entry to the House of Chimes. Skadi pulled said tragic backstory (orphaned in a hansom accident) more or less out of their ass, but it did establish that their parents are dead.
Somewhere down the line, I realized that technically Skadi is a linguist, since the Correspondence is a language, and I made that their profession on the Surface as well.
Around this time, I started working on character designs for my fan comic. I got really into messing around with skin tone, and somewhere along the line thought it would be fun to draw Skadi (who was originally white) with darker skin, and it stuck.
Then I abruptly realized I was taking a lot of options that increased my Melancholy, and almost all of them were based on the Surface. So now Skadi has a longing for the Surface.
I left the game for a few years, but somewhere during this stretch of time, and I don't know how this happened, but I decided Skadi was now Native American; specifically, Metis. I changed their design to incorporate a sash woven in a style characteristic of the Metis, which also added a bit of color to their design (which was mostly black or grey at this point).
During this time, I started incorporating Skadi into my fan comic. This would eventually lead me to actually flesh out their backstory in greater detail. When I started playing the game again, I also created my first alt by total accident (long story), and I decided to weave her backstory with Skadi's.
So Skadi is in the interesting position of being an Indigenous person who is what we'd probably consider Two-Spirit today but they'd just call "Bollocks to that gender crap". They never belonged on the Surface, since the Metis are in a bit of a liminal space compared to other tribes due to their interesting background (the Metis are the descendants of French settlers and Indigenous inhabitants, mostly Cree), and Skadi exists in a liminal space within that liminal space due to only being half-Metis and raised primarily in white culture, although they still maintained a connection to it through their late mother. They also never belonged because no one else on the Surface outside of the communities they already felt isolated from would ever accept them for their gender. London gave them a chance to express one of those, but not both, and despite knowing that the Surface hates them just for existing, they still long to return.
#fallen london#fallen london oc#mild fallen london spoilers ig#there's a really interesting dichotomy with all of my fl characters honestly#skadi's is just probably the most blatant#umbra belacqua (my shadowy alt) is someone who both loves very fiercely and is capable of immense cruelty at the same time#in her backstory she had the husband of her ex-fiancee (who left her at the altar) murdered because she couldn't let go of her ex's betraya#said ex is my persuasive alt and is both very socially gregarious and extremely withdrawn#he probably won't ever get a spouse just because he can't bring himself to love someone else after what happened the last time#and he had very good reason for leaving umbra because he could never love her the way she wanted#and he felt that the sympathy she would receive from his family would more than make up for the heartbreak#since umbra is obsessed with gaining power and prestige and he came from an influential family#and knew that running away with the person he really loved would get him disowned#(he doesn't know umbra killed his husband btw)#my dangerous alt is my persuasive alt's sister#she's trans and badly overcompensating for it by refusing to wear anything except feminine clothing#because it hasn't quite gotten through to her yet that no one in Fallen London particularly cares about her gender expression#and she feels like the only way she can be seriously considered a woman is if she does everything she can to look like one#which causes her a good few problems because her one true passion is violence and that's not usually considered a very feminine hobby#then their younger brother (my watchful alt) is someone ironically very disinclined to violence who resorts to it anyways#the only people he's actually going to try to kill are the ones he has to kill for his ambition#and he's not very happy about it but he doesn't have much of a choice#because while he might not like bloodshed his murdered spouse was an anarchist who definitely did#and he's determined to do right by his memory by...killing a lot of people apparently#he is not a terribly mentally stable man and when i finally get around to making his account#he's going to have a massive nightmares problem that he refuses to deal with and keeps ending up in the royal beth for it#tl;dr all my fallen london characters are going through it and have overly long and complicated backstories#my main just happens to have the most overly long and complicated of them all
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the way digimon does conflict/drama between two characters who should be or are close: chef’s kiss <3
the way sonic idw handles creating conflict/drama between two characters who should be or are close: *wilting flower*
#keyword: adding#in digimon conflicts come about as a result of independent viewpoint differences#ie takuya vs kouji. taichi vs yamato#or (since i just watched 02:the beginning) lui and ukkomon’s conflict is SO GOOD#it BUILDS to something. lui and ukkomon’s disagreement builds up to: they need to communicate. they both come from a good-faith angle#ukkomon so desperately wanted to make lui happy and failed to look closer to see what WOULD - and lui didn’t know how to express#what he actually wanted to ukkomon. or try to reach out to ukkomon in turn instead of basking in his life finally going ‘right’#but then not as much in idw gives me that good feeling of ‘ahhh they built to this and it is so nice’#or when conflict is created it isn’t because despite best efforts people clash and have to work together#it’s when someone does a stupid and someone else has to pick it up#it means a lot when you see kouji driven to press takuya to the wall and see them shout at each other#because they both have to realize that with words they will never convince the other of their viewpoint.#even though they both think the way the other looks at things will get the group killed#and of course it makes sense that the group would follow takuya. he’s their heart. their core#takuya’s the reason tomoki stayed in the digital world and junpei and izumi find confidence being there because he’s there rallying them#and in this case that good trait winds up being wrong. he gets everyone captured by the enemy and thinks theyre all better off if he wasn’t#part of the group from the start. but THAT isn’t true either - he just needs a BALANCE of his excellent helpful determination and willpower#and seeing things as they are and not as he believes them to be - more like kouji#he WAS wrong but not for HAVING the traits he had - for leaning too much on them#or (also going to a media im currently engaging in) sundered star. things go bad between people a LOT but it’s not frustrating.#it’s SATISFYING/ENGAGING seeing feferi leave eridan and watching eridan go insane and give in to the horrorterrors. of course it couldnt-#-go any other way for them. eridan wouldnt change until he realized he could lose feferi and feferi wouldnt bring him any real consequences#-to make him consider that until she was leaving and would never come back. and it was never her fault that leaving eridan lead to-#-catastrophe and devastation. it just happened as a consequence anyway#anyways i guess. if i see the characters do their best and things still fall apart it’s better than#seeing an idiot plot or characters written to be worse than they were to make conflict happen#with takuya he wasn’t suddenly bad or misjudging everything. he just didnt have to deal with negative consequences for misjudging before-#-because they hadnt met someone like duskmon that they COULDNT eventually beat before. even gigasmon who wrecked them all at first-#-was beaten once they had beast spirits and were on equal footing. so takuya assumes the same for duskmon without realizing that#they arent on the same level. so the issue didnt come from nowhere - it just comes to a head now
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“authors behaving badly”...are they behaving badly, or are they just writing a story that you don’t like or that doesn’t resonate with you in particular? are they not engaging in a way you like?
#I should not watch most book review videos#even when I don't like an author's writing it or can see big issues with it#so many current reviewers do this thing where they complain about books#and it's inevitably books that a lot of people are complaining about....for things they'd let slide by another author#this one is about SJM#and why on god's green earth can I find 1000 videos complaining about SJM#when I can barely find anything for B Sanderson when his books have MORE of the stuff they complain about with SJM#(3 guesses as to why sigh)#fam I am not saying she can do no wrong (do NOT put people on pedestals)#but it's clear that with people determined to take umbrage there is nothing she could do to put things right#circa 2016/2017: ''ugh we do not want to hear so much from Privileged Authors like her''#now: ''um she doesn't use social media much and doesn't engage with the public''#back then: ''why no queer characters?'' *author starts trying more to add queer rep*#now: ''not like that!!!''#like just admit there's nothing she could do to make you happy#I don't care about SJM in particular but she's a great example of this trend#the lack of good-faith engagement and unwillingness to recognize that even if something is NOT for you#it might be for someone else
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Good god I’m so hypervigilant from work and I can’t shut it off
#I love my job and my student so much#but I’m afraid whenever I leave for my MANDATORY (for some reason) morning break that my student is going to hurt someone#Because I know they’ll stay in check so long as 1.) I’m there literally never taking my eyes off them and 2.) They’re medicated#And they sit and rock in front of a wall vent with all these little horizontal slats in it and holy fuck does it screw with my visual snow#It makes it look like the wall vent is rapidly blurring and unblurring whilst floating on a separate layer that moves in both directions#and the motion makes it even worse. It’s better when I look at the vent and not at my student; but if I do that I’ll lose my focus#and end up daydreaming#And aside from that I CANNOT take my eyes off them no matter what#And I know for a fact I watch them more intensely than anyone else in the building.#I started sitting next to them for reading time and it’s really good for them but they’ve started acting weird again#so I don’t feel safe sitting next to them because my eyes will be as much on the paper as they will be on them#So I haven’t felt safe enough to read to them which sucks because I’d really like to#I asked about not taking breaks and just adding the time to my lunch so I won’t be gone while my student is here#but it’s a violation of the union agreement and doing that could have gotten me fired had I continued without asking#But yeah it’s to the point where I’m on a hair trigger with some of my friends because they’re new to me and UGHHHHHHHHHHH#I’m still in a mindset of “That’s a heavy throwable object; you need to move it NOW or it’ll end up in your face.”#and like… determining what can potentially be used as a weapon against me all the time in my personal life#Well… if America goes to shit then I’ll make an excellent resistance fighter because I’m already in that mindset
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Blog(ger) Shift
I am, so weird and bad about original posting and about reblogging and about saving things on Tumblr and that's why my blog has been mostly inactive or the lurking consumer type. But I don't want my fears about putting myself out there, being seen and known, articulating myself well vs. having been told my whole life I'm too wordy and opinionated vs. not managing to articulate myself well enough to justify being verbose and passionate, etc. to continue to control me so much.
So for my new specific-interest sideblog that I'm not locking, I hope it being themed will help me with making more original posts and reblogging, and I'm publicizing that here to push myself and also welcome interaction.
RIP to my other public specific-interest sideblog and the fandom sideblog I took over for someone that I didn't take further and to my private sideblogs that were meant to make me reblog and save and say stuff because they would be personal and just for me. I still would like to make those happen and reblogging and posting things that matter to me here, and oh my heart for the content ideas I haven't been working on, but they're pipedreams with how I'm (not) managing my life and I keep kicking those cans down the road.
To the person who I developed a real relationship with as a beta but who by now I probably count as having disappeared on with how long it's been and my not coming back to explicitly say I still can't help and don't know when I can, I am so sorry. I'm being a coward languishing in hoping I can tell you soon that I can get back into beta-ing for you and talking, but that's turned into me not talking to you because I'm waiting to be able to say something positive. Hopefully my vaguing here can help push me into talking to you, or at least this is here for you to read if you happen to see it; and I want you to know you absolutely can talk to me, can call me out, and if you're so gracious as to still want to be friends with me and just chat despite my dropping being your beta, I'm here for you and still want to be your friend even if I don't know if I'll have the spoons to be a good one and I know my saying that preemptively isn't apology or justification enough.
Honest assessment, I'm going to curse and say my living situation and work have both become even more of a shitshow, and with those things in mind I can't begin to imagine handling a real project until basically literally a year from now.
Which segues back into the main topic of this post. My goal isn't to have my new sideblog be like an active mainblog nor to abandon this blog—people interested in that blog can and should still interact with me here given how primary vs. secondary blogs on Tumblr work, and in terms of using that blog to help make me be a better Tumblr user, I think I should make certain original posts here and reblog them there as opposed to them being original there. With my mental-emotional and time resources, I want that blog to be "active" for a given definition of active, but really I think I should see my objective as "clear out tabs and likes and photos and lists and notes and drafts, etc. from the last four months" by saving stuff there, as opposed to my goal being the original posts I want to make there, and actually my long-term goal should be to use that momentum to do the same for older digital and physical storage that hasn't been lost or stolen. In my failure to be an interesting person, do I at least manage to be fascinating as a basket-case? Ha. But, also, as expressed above the Read More, the exercise of my danmei/Chinese sideblog is supposed to be a foray into me allowing myself to be an interesting person.
#my stuff#Ok I think there were just the two posts so far to be reblogged from here to my side blog#At this point I think I can determine the amount of “me/original” put into them warrants the My Stuff tag per how I think I meant to use it#But I'm not adding the tag to those posts and am instead letting people know they should check my sideblog and the Main tag there#which actually means search for Main because I think not everything will show up since Tumblr only organizes by the first five tags?#how long have I mistakenly thought only the first five tags showed in the Tumblr-wide tags but that the others would still work on blogs oo#and probably danmei related posts will be original on the sideblog and Chinese related posts will be related here#Now back to the tags from before I went over those two posts#lol at my private blogs that have drafts but nothing posted or reblogged#I stand by my aesthetics designing all of these though#will have to do some thinking on headers and icons and blog titles/descriptions if I end up getting to the point of#clearing up and saving stuff for interests I didn't already make sideblogs for#And it's funny (sad) that for the fandom that I thought would be lasting for me personally and for fandom as a whole and I made an ao3feed#blog for given that and not realizing someone else already had after ao3feeds broke and because of my thoughts on how to organize for Tumbl#I'll still be interested for beta-ing for my friend and in my content ideas that will probably never see fruition#but I feel less than for any other fandom like I will want to go back and reread and I think that some ill feelings from this fandom must'v#affected me more than I thought. Hopefully things are more positive though because while I'm not feeling so much thinking about my fav fic#when I cast my mind about for other good writing and beautiful stories I do feel more urge and drive to reread#Hopefully it's that I still love that fic but am fatigued on the rereads I've already given it but I still have the spark of love for the#fandom and perspective will help me focus back on fondness for the community especially remembering that higher level of and more#contemporary involvement were why I could reach the threshold of having more negative experiences
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"WANT A (HERSHEY) KISS?" — with JJK men
pairings. satoru gojo, suguru geto, choso, yuji itadori, megumi fushiguro, kento nanami, ryomen sukuna, yuta okkotsu x gn! reader
warnings. all sweet mushy stuff, fluff, can be seen as an established relationship or mutual crushing. geto is written to be taller than you (sorry to all my tall ladies), sukuna calls reader "human" (his weird little pet name.), characters might be ooc.
a/n. i overheard my friend ask my best friend if she wanted a kiss and i immediately thought about this hershy kiss idea.
synopsis. asking the jjk men if they want a kiss, but not that kind of kiss.
wordcount. 3.4k
— satoru gojo
gojo straightens up, his posture suddenly becoming theatrically grand. he places a hand dramatically over his heart, his eyes wide with mock seriousness as he gazes deeply into yours.
“oh, you have no idea what you’ve just unleashed,” he declares, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “i’m more than ready for your kiss!”
with a flourish, he takes a step back. he raises his other hand to his forehead as if swooning, his usual confident smirk replaced by an exaggerated look of faux vulnerability.
“oh, how could i have known today would be the day? the day my heart would finally be captured by an unexpected proposal!”
he lowers himself slightly as if preparing for the grand finale of some romantic play, his eyes never leaving yours.
you quirked an eyebrow, confused by your gojo's reaction. he takes a deep breath, his expression shifting to one of resolute determination. "what—"
“i accept your kiss with all the fervour of a thousand lifetimes!” he exclaims, his voice rising to a dramatic crescendo.
before you can react, he swoops in closer, closing his eyes as if truly expecting a romantic kiss. his lips are slightly puckered, and he holds the pose for a moment, the room filled with anticipation of his over-the-top performance.
"....what are you doing..." is all you manage to say while staring at gojo like he was a madman. at your words, he lets out a faint "huh" before peeking with one eyes open. you cocked your head to the side, reaching your palm out with a... hershey's kiss?
gojo's eyes travel between your face and the chocolate treat on your palm. both his eyes open as he resumes his old posture. "what's that?" he asks, confused. where was his kiss?
you nudge him with your hand, "take it, it's the kiss." you responded. there was a pregnant pause as gojo felt his soul being crushed and crumbling away.
he pouts as he usually does when things don't go his way. "so i won't be getting the kiss?" his expression shifts to one of exaggerated disappointment.
“you won't be getting any kiss other than the chocolate kiss in the palm of my hands! if you don't want it then just say it, i'll give it to someone else.”
gojo immediately felt a stab to his heart at your words. "so... no kiss..?" he asked once more, pushing his luck a bit too much. you turned around, beginning to walk over to maki.
"wait wait wait! no— wait! i'll take the kiss, come back! i thought we had something special!!"
safe to say gojo chased you around the courtyard wanting that kiss so badly. (p.s. he never got it)
— suguru geto
he looks up from his tea, his eyebrows raising slightly in mild surprise. his calm demeanour doesn’t waver, but you can see a spark of curiosity in his eyes.
“a kiss?” he repeats, setting down his cup with a gentle clink. “well, that’s unexpected.”
his eyes scan your face, you approached him with a playful smile, unbeknownst to him, holding a small hershey���s kiss hidden in your hand.
his response is measured, his tone light yet sincere. there’s a slight tilt of his head as he considers your offer, a small, enigmatic smile playing on his lips. his curiosity is clearly piqued.
“are you sure you want to do this right now?” he asks softly, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.
you can see the gears turning in his mind. he stands up gracefully, his tall frame now towering over you slightly. his presence is both calming and commanding, and he steps closer, his gaze never leaving yours.
“if you’re offering, who am i to refuse?” he says, his voice soft and gentle, yet with a hint of playfulness.
as he leans in, his eyes close slightly, and his movements are slow and deliberate. his face is inches from yours, his lips poised as if expecting a tender kiss on the cheek or lips.
his breath is warm against your skin, just as his lips are about to meet yours, you can’t hold it in any longer. you burst out laughing, the sound breaking the tension. geto’s eyes snap open, and he pulls back slightly, a look of mild confusion and surprise on his face.
“wait, suguru,” you manage to say between giggles, holding up the small, foil-wrapped hershey’s kiss. “i meant hershey’s kiss!”
geto blinks, taking in the sight of the tiny chocolate in your hand. for a moment, he’s taken aback, his calmness cracking just enough to show his genuine surprise. then, a slow smile spreads across his face, his eyes crinkling at the corners with amusement.
“oh, i see,” he says, chuckling softly, the sound low and rich. “you got me there.”
his surprise melts into good-natured acceptance as he reaches out to take the hershey’s kiss from your hand, his fingers brushing yours gently.
“i should have known there was a twist,” he says, his tone filled with amusement. he unwraps the chocolate with ease, the foil crinkling softly as he reveals the sweet treat inside.
“well, i can’t say no to chocolate,” he continues, popping the hershey’s kiss into his mouth with a graceful motion. “but i might still want that other kiss later.”
you shake your head, still laughing, "you’re too much, suguru.”
he smiles, his eyes twinkling with amusement, "that’s what makes life interesting,” he replies, his tone affectionate. “you always manage to keep me on my toes.”
geto leans in slightly, his expression turning more playful, a hint of a challenge in his eyes. “but just so you know, i'm expecting a real kiss next time,” he says softly, his voice filled with a gentle warmth that sends a pleasant shiver down your spine. “no more tricks.”
you nod, your smile matching his. “alright.”
— choso
choso’s dark eyes widen slightly, and he looks at you in surprise.
his usually stoic demeanour softened by your unexpected offer. choso blinked in surprise, his dark eyes widening gradually. "a kiss?" he spoke, uncertain of what he had heard. "from you?"
your playful smile widened a fraction as you nodded. "that's if you really want one," you replied.
choso's expression softened ever so slightly, a flicker of happiness crossing his features. he continued to sit down on the chair, his eyes, usually so guarded, were fixed on yours with anticipation.
"well since you asked," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
you nodded again, containing your joy as you held out the small chocolate treat. but choso, his attention solely on you, didn't notice your extended hand.
instead, he leaned in a fraction closer, his breath brushing against your cheek as he waited expectantly.
time seemed to slow, the air thick with anticipation. and then, as he continued to wait, you couldn't hold back any longer. with a gentle chuckle, you revealed the hershey's kiss, holding it between your fingers.
"wait, choso," you said, your voice soft. "i meant a hershey's kiss."
for a fleeting moment, confusion clouded choso's eyes, his brows furrowing slightly as he processed your words. the disappointment that followed was palpable, a subtle shift in his demeanour as he withdrew slightly, his gaze dropping to the chocolate in your hand.
"oh," he murmured quietly, a faint flush colouring his cheeks. "i see. i misunderstood."
regret tinged your amusement now, your heart squeezing at the sight of his crestfallen expression. you held onto whatever you could to stop yourself from apologising (despite it not being your fault in the first place) but his saddened face had a deadly grip on your aching heart.
letting out a soft sigh, you decide to make up for this misunderstanding. "i'll make it up to you," you promised, offering him the hershey's kiss with a gentle smile.
he looks back at you, his eyes searching yours for lord knows what. you step closer, closing the distance between you. “here,” you say softly, holding the hershey’s kiss in one hand and reaching up to gently cup his cheek with the other. “you can have both.”
you lean in and place a tender kiss on his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin under your lips. as you pull back, you see the love in his eyes, the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"how was the kiss?"
"amazing."
— yuji itadori
yuji sat relaxed on the couch, flipping through a magazine with casual interest before you asked him the question.
he looked up from his magazine, his expression momentarily puzzled before a flicker of curiosity crossed his face. "a kiss?" he repeated as his head cocked to the side, intrigued.
"yeah," you continued, your smile widening as you extended the small chocolate towards him. "i thought you might like one."
a hint of confusion lingered on yuji's features as he accepted the chocolate from you. "oh, thanks!" he exclaimed, unwrapping the chocolate with a grin. he popped it into his mouth, savouring the sweetness with an appreciative nod.
however, as he finished the chocolate, his gaze turned back to you with a playful look on his face. "that was good," he remarked casually, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips.
"but you know, i was actually hoping for a different kind of kiss."
you couldn't help but laugh softly at his playful teasing, feeling a warmth spread through you at his easygoing nature. "oh really?" you replied teasingly, pretending to consider his request. "what kind of kiss were you hoping for?"
yuji's grin widened, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "hmm, how about…" he trailed off, leaning in closer with a twinkle in his eye.
before he could finish his sentence, you leaned in swiftly and gently kissed his warm cheek. his skin was soft against your lips, radiating a faint warmth.
yuji blinked in surprise, his hand instinctively touching his cheek where your lips had just been.
"like that?" you asked with a playful smirk, teasing him lightly.
yuji chuckled softly, his cheeks dusted with a faint blush. "yeah," he admitted, his voice softening. "that was nice."
the room fell into a comfortable silence, filled with a newfound ease. yuji glanced at you, a soft smile playing on his lips as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
"thanks for the chocolate, and the kiss," he said sincerely, his eyes meeting yours with a warmth that made your heart skip a beat. you shake your head, "it's fine, i enjoyed the kiss."
yuji immediately brightens up at your words before speaking. "can i get another kiss?" he looks at you with those pleading, puppy eyes. ugh. you let out a soft sigh and nod. "of course, on the cheek or lips?"
"lips please!"
— megumi fushiguro
he pauses. did he hear you correctly? a kiss? why now, as he's training? did you need to distract him after doing something wrong (you had a tendency to do that)? thousands of thoughts whirled around in his head.
"a... a kiss?" he repeated, his voice betraying a hint of confusion and something else—perhaps a flicker of vulnerability.
you nodded, feeling giddy for absolutely no reason. "yeah, a kiss. what do you think?"
for a moment, megumi seemed to be at a loss for words. he glanced around, as if checking to see if anyone else was watching, then looked back at you.
"why are you asking me that?" he said, his voice low and slightly nervous.
you couldn't help but chuckle softly at his reaction. "just answer the question, megumi. do you want one or not?"
his cheeks took on a faint tint of pink, a sight that made your heart skip a beat. he struggled with his thoughts for a moment before he finally nodded, his gaze steady on yours. "sure," he said quietly.
you pulled the small hershey's kiss from your pocket and held it out to him. "here," you said, waiting for him to take the treat.
megumi stared at the chocolate in your hand, his expression shifting from confusion to realization and then to mild embarrassment. he let out a small, almost imperceptible sigh, shaking his head with a wry smile.
"oh, yeah. thanks," he muttered, feeling completely and utterly embarrassed by the thought that he would actually be getting a different type of kiss.
your eyes focus solely on megumi as he stares at the chocolate in your hand. he seemed disappointed but tried his best to hide it, but he knew better.
"you look disappointed. why?"
there goes your attentiveness.
"nothing's wrong. i just thought that.." he paused, taking the chocolate and unwrapping it, popping it into his mouth. your brows raised at his abrupt pause, indicating for him to go on.
you wait for him to finish the chocolate, and when he does you notice a faint blush on his cheeks. he seems to consider something for a moment, his eyes growing more contemplative.
megumi let out a soft sigh, eyes downcast as if embarrassed to say whatever he was about to say. "if..." he began slowly, "i was hoping that you would give me the other kind of kiss,"
his words took you by surprise, and you felt a warm flush creep up your cheeks. "oh?" you replied, your heart fluttering at his unexpected words (though you haven't fully comprehended it yet). after a few seconds, the realisation hit. "OHHH!! was that the type of kiss you were expecting?"
"shut up."
— kento nanami
nanami raised an eyebrow, curiosity was evident on his face. "a kiss?" he repeated. you nod your head.
"yes, a kiss. what do you say?"
he studied your face for a moment, his sharp eyes searching for any hint of a joke. but seeing your expression, he relaxed. "alright," he said with a small, gentle smile.
"i suppose i could indulge."
to your surprise, nanami stood up and closed the distance between you with a few steps. gently, he cupped your face in his warm, calloused hand. leaning in, he placed a small, chaste kiss on your forehead, his lips soft against your skin.
"there," he said, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes. "now you can give me a kiss."
your heart fluttered wildly in your chest, and you felt a flush rise to your cheeks. you fumbled for a moment, holding up the small hershey's kiss that had been concealed in your grip.
"i-i meant this kiss," you stammered, your voice flustered. "but this works too."
nanami's eyes flicked to the chocolate in your hand, and a soft chuckle escaped his lips. "ah, i see," he said, a rare glint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "a hershey's kiss."
he took the small chocolate from your hand, unwrapping it with practised ease, he popped the chocolate into his mouth, savouring the sweetness. "delicious," he remarked, his gaze never leaving yours.
you couldn't help but laugh, still feeling flustered by his actions as you shook your head. "i didn't expect you to actually kiss me like that," you admitted, a grin creeping onto your face, tugging at the corner of your lips.
nanami's smile widened slightly, a gentle warmth in his eyes. "you asked if i wanted a kiss," he said simply. "i saw no reason to decline."
— ryomen sukuna
the room was thick with tension as the king of curses lounged on his throne-like seat, his piercing red eyes flickering with a dangerous mix of boredom and disdain.
the king of curses rarely indulged in the mundane pleasantries of human interaction, yet when it comes to you, it becomes tolerable.
you approached him, chocolate clutched in your hand. "hey, sukuna," you called out, trying to keep your voice steady.
he shifted his gaze towards you, his eyes narrowing slightly as he regarded you with a mix of curiosity and contempt. "what is it, human?" he growled, his voice dripping with disdain.
taking a deep breath, you mustered your courage and offered him a tentative smile. "do you want a kiss?"
for a moment, sukuna stared at you, his expression unreadable. then, a mocking scoff escaped his lips, and he leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "a kiss?"
"i don't want your disgusting lips on mine, or on my skin at all. foul. don't you ever ask me that stupid question ever again."
you let out a sigh, resisting the urge to roll your eyes at his words. "i didn't mean that kind of kiss," you said softly, revealing the small chocolate in your hand. "i meant a hershey's kiss."
sukuna's eyes flicked to the chocolate, and for a fleeting moment, a flicker of something—curiosity, perhaps—passed through his gaze. he snatched the chocolate from your hand, unwrapping it with a sneer.
"pathetic," he muttered, popping the sweet treat into his mouth. he chewed slowly, his expression shifting from contempt to thoughtful consideration as he continued to chew.
you observed him, noticing the subtle change in his face. despite his harsh words, there was a part of him that seemed to enjoy the small gesture, though, he'd rather allow himself to be killed than admit his feelings.
after swallowing the chocolate, sukuna's eyes returned to yours, his gaze intense and unwavering. "that was tolerable," he admitted grudgingly, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "is there anything else?"
you shake your head. "no... what else would you want?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
he leaned back in his seat, his eyes never leaving yours. "another type of kiss," he said, his tone both commanding and taunting. "show me if you dare."
you hesitated, the weight of his demand on your heart. his earlier insult still lingered in your mind, but there was something in his gaze—a challenge, a test—that compelled you to step forward.
sukuna's eyes gleamed with a predatory anticipation as you drew closer. when your lips brushed against his cheek, his skin was surprisingly warm, a stark contrast to his cold behaviour.
the kiss was brief, a soft and tentative gesture that seemed to surprise even him. as you pulled back, you searched his face for a reaction. sukuna was silent, his expression neutral. then, a slow, almost imperceptible smile spread across his lips—a smile that was equal parts dangerous and intrigued.
"not bad," he murmured, his voice softer but no less commanding. "perhaps you're not as foolish as i thought."
sukuna's eyes darkened, his smirk widening slightly. "don't think this changes anything," he warned, his voice regaining its edge. "but i might tolerate your presence a bit longer."
— yuta okkotsu
yuta's eyes widened, his cheeks flushing a deep shade of pink almost immediately. he seemed caught off guard by your question, his book slowly slipping from his grasp as he tried to process your words.
"a-a kiss?" he stammered, his voice shaky. "you mean… like… a real kiss?"
you couldn't help but chuckle softly at his flustered reaction. "yes, a kiss," you spoke, watching as his blush deepened.
his mind seemed to be racing, a mix of confusion and excitement flashing in his eyes. "i… well… um… sure?" he managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper.
he looked down, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, clearly trying to gather his composure.
you held out the small hershey's kiss, the silver foil catching the fading sunlight. "i meant this kiss," you said softly, a knowing smile on your face (yuta was always very easy to read).
yuta stared at the chocolate in your hand, his blush was still prominent but now mixed with a look of realization and slight embarrassment. "oh," he breathed out, his shoulders relaxing a bit. he let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "o-oh! yeah, totally—a chocolate kiss."
you handed him the chocolate, watching as he took it from you with a shy smile. "yeah, a chocolate kiss," you confirmed, your voice gentle.
as yuta unwrapped the chocolate, he glanced up at you with a sheepish grin. "i thought you meant the other kiss," he admitted, popping the treat into his mouth.
after a while, yuta turned to you, his blush returning slightly. "do you think you can give me another kiss?"
your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you felt your own cheeks warming. "you mean like the physical kiss? not the chocolate" you replied softly, already knowing the answer. he nodded, feeling a little nervous. "yeah. i mean… if you feel like it. no pressure of course!!"
you smiled, laughing softly. "i'll keep that in mind," you said gently. "you're too sweet."
yuta's smile widened, his eyes shining with happiness. "you're the one that's sweet here," he replied, his voice soft and filled with warmth.
rika is fuming right now
a/n: divider credits @/v6que // my first-ish post for jjk ^-^ if there are any pronouns other than GN please tell me, either in messages or on this post! thank you for reading 💕
#jjk x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#geto x reader#choso x reader#yuji itadori x reader#yuji x reader#megumi x reader#megumi fushiguro x reader#nanami x reader#sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#yuta x reader#yuta okkotsu x reader#jjk x you#jjk x yn
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WISH ft. Giselle
giselle x male reader smut
8k words
"It's a Christmas miracle!" —is how Giselle chooses to make her grand entrance, swinging open the door to your bar, a fresh powder of snow dusting her shoulders. She shrugs it off. "My favourite person in all of Seoul."
You deadpan, "That's very concerning."
She laughs off your quip with the same ease that she does everything else. Sways her hips, saunters over to you, fire engine-red heels clacking against wood as she rushes to take her usual stool. Not like she'd have to fight anyone for it, there's no one else here.
Besides, even if there were—it's always been hers.
You're sliding over her drink before she can even open her mouth to order, because that's what you do for her. Anticipate. Your job in a nutshell, really. Knowing what she wants.
Her thanks is in the blush colouring her cheeks, flushing them a rosy pink, matching her hair in hue.
Just so immediately pretty.
She raises the drink, grinning at you through the glass. Gets a little too dramatic with her gasp.
"Exactly what I wished for! How did you know?"
"Made a list, checked it twice."
That earns you a giggle, has Giselle leaning forward, propping an elbow on the bar, chin in her palm. Her usual routine—just sitting there, all beautiful and flirty and really, really fucking out of place amongst the dim lighting and worn-out leather.
And yeah, you’ve committed it all to memory, seen it in every light and shadow; the smoky liner ringing around her eyes, the gloss that makes her lips look shiny and sweet and oh so soft. The absolutely devastating smile that never seems to leave her—only gets wider, warmer, parting when she laughs and slaps a hand on the table, or lands it on your forearm.
Accidentally, of course.
"Does that mean I get to sit on your lap later?"
It’s a touch early for her to throw out bait so blatantly. That’s more of a three-drinks-in kind of thing.
Still, your mouth answers for you before your brain can catch up, “Depends if you've been naughty or nice.”
“I think we both know the answer to that one,” she says, far too casually for you to handle, daring you to let that thought linger. Let it rattle around your head with all the other loaded thoughts involving her in various states of undress and in all sorts of compromising positions—underneath, on-top, kneeling. Thoughts that are better kept on a tight leash.
Because you know what would happen if you were to give in to them.
How you’d reach over the bar separating the two of you, pull her onto the counter. Send all the glasses, the bottles, crashing to the floor, and just kiss that smile right off her face, right here, right now. Tear off her clothes and leave her bare and exposed to the cold December air, make her yours, fuck her absolutely senseless. Render her nothing but a victim to your fingers, your lips, your cock, to all the need that’s been boiling inside you over the past months and—fuck.
She's got you good.
There's no point in pretending like it hasn't been this way since the first time she found you—at the end of an alley that's at the end of another alley, down the stairs and into the underground proper. Waltzing her way into the hovel that is your whiskey bar; all for reasons that you’re yet to fully untangle.
Months of performing this same dance—it's late, she walks in, typically perfect and bouncy, like some half-remembered fantasy or a libido-driven hallucination. Only, she must be real, because there’s no way you could ever conjure up someone like her.
It's embarrassing, you really should be far more used to it now, built up at least a partial immunity to her brand of charm. But somehow, she still finds a way under your skin. You’re only human, after all. And she’s… she’s Giselle.
Undeniably, in-your-face gorgeous, Giselle.
Dead-set and determined to throw herself at you until you break.
"Perfect," is her evaluation when she's taken her first sip. It plays out like it’s been choreographed: she licks her lips, flashes that million-dollar smile, lets loose a sigh of pure joy. Looks at you all wide-eyed and impressed; like you're the only person in the world who's ever given her exactly what she wants. Like she doesn't already live in a reality where everyone else falls flat on their faces to ensure that the needs of Aeri Uchinaga are met. “Always perfect.”
And you have your own steps to follow. You're glued to the pulse in the curve of her neck, the gentle slope of her shoulders, the naked collarbone when she shirks off her coat to reveal tits that are much too ample for her dress to contain. All these little things that make her so fucking distracting.
She says, surreptitiously, "You know, I didn't think you'd be open today."
"And yet you came anyway."
"And yet I did."
There's the loaded insinuation stacked on top of her words like a teasing question mark:
('I came looking for you.'
'I was waiting.')
"Like I said, a Christmas miracle," Giselle repeats, softly this time. Barely audible over the Christmas tunes you’ve got on a loop, some self-inflicted torture you’re wreaking on yourself for purposes unknown. Maybe to get into the spirit of things. Maybe to keep the silence at bay. Maybe to make Giselle's efforts feel less effective.
It doesn't work.
It does, however, have you leaning in just to hear her better, and that's a mistake right there. Getting too close that you can follow the lines of the dress she's picked out for the night. A sheer black, strapless number that hugs her figure close, dipping at her chest, giving you just enough of a glimpse to send the alarm bells ringing.
Ending short of the tops of her thighs, because of course she's wearing stockings, and of course they have tiny little bows holding them up, and you're already thinking about how easy it would be to get your teeth in them and pull them apart, and the walls are starting to feel closer and closer with each passing second.
But you don't say anything. You just try to remember to breathe. You chance a look back at her face, aiming for unaffected.
Her eyes instantly undo you.
Giselle uncrosses and crosses her legs. The stockings stretch.
"Like what you see?"
Now seems like an optimal time to pour yourself a drink. Something strong to fortify the weakness in your knees, to maybe bolster the resolve that's threatening to crack like the ice frosting over the windows outside.
You grab a glass, pour a good measure of whiskey and throw it back without even bothering with the usual ritual. You need it. The burn is a good distraction.
You turn her question back on her. Shame on her for asking something so obvious. "What do you think?"
"I think," Giselle smiles, tilts her head, that curtain of bubblegum-pink cascading over her collarbone and down onto the bar, "That it appears that all the effort I put getting into this tight fucking dress was worth it."
You're unable to stop yourself from saying, "Don’t need the dress if that was the intention." It slips out of you, like an idiot, and you decide to busy yourself by pouring two more drinks, because you really don't know what the fuck else to do at this point.
“Duly noted,” she says, likely adding it to some mental file she keeps on you. Ways to get you to drop your guard. Ways to get under your skin. “But don’t you think unwrapping presents are half the fun?”
You’re rolling your eyes, it’s too much, but Giselle’s too good at this whole thing. Got the two of you sliding deep into the easy rhythm of conversation you've found yourselves in many, many times before; when it's just you and her in the waning hours of the night and you're finding excuses not to close up and she's finding excuses to stay.
And the drinks just compound on it even more. All the alcohol really seems to do is blunt her filter and dull your better instincts, bringing you both to that tipsy point where everything that comes out of your mouths can’t help but sound like shameless innuendos; all terrible ideas that you both absolutely must indulge in.
Talking and flirting and drinking until you’re finally crossing that invisible line drawn over the counter of your bar, forgetting about that ethereal wall of separation that keeps you on the straight and narrow; that would normally stop you from doing things like reaching over and brushing a strand of pink out of her face and over her ear.
You keep your hand there, your thumb padding the soft skin of her cheek. She leans into your palm.
“So,” she says, and it’s accompanied by the kind of pause that holds a whole universe of possibility. She takes a sip of her third drink of the night, her eyes fixated on you, studying the lines on your face. Trying to find the cracks.
“So.”
“Why haven’t you made a move on me?”
She might as well have gathered snow from outside your door and thrown it right at your face. You blink, the warmth of the whiskey in your cheeks fading fast. “Very confident of you to think that I would want to.”
“Don’t dodge,” she chides. “We both know you didn’t open tonight for the amazing business rush. So. Spill. Why?"
You’re about to spout off an excuse—something about a Hippocratic oath, or bartender-customer privilege, but Giselle cuts your lie short before it can even leave your throat.
“You’ve been staring at me like you want to eat me alive every night I’ve been here, and you expect me to believe you’re not interested?” Giselle leans closer, her breath warm on your hand. Her eyes piercing through, stripping away every defence you’ve ever had. “You’re barely hiding it you know? How badly you want me.”
There’s an implicit challenge underneath her words. You get the message loud and clear:
Don’t you know how badly I want you too?
"It's—" you start, before course correcting when you catch the smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. You swirl the whiskey around in your own glass, watching the amber liquid catch the light and dance. "Complicated."
"Oh really?" Giselle's eyes light up at that, and you're beginning to feel like you're falling into some trap she's set up. It just hasn’t revealed itself to you yet. "I like complicated. I live off complicated."
"I'll bet," you reply, not missing the fact that she's now taken your hand into hers, threading her fingers through yours. "Probably why you're here so often."
Giselle clicks her tongue, runs it across her lips. You'd die for a taste. "I thought I asked you to stop dodging. But, if you really want to know, I come here because I like the company," she explains, before ending her thought with, "and the attention."
"Because being an idol doesn't give you enough?"
"Not in the way I want it."
"And I do?"
"Not yet," she says, with an air of finality. "But give it time."
The silence stretches between you, thick with the weight of the unspoken. The air in the bar feels charged, like the moment before a storm hits. You're reading her, acutely aware of the things running through her mind, because you can see it in her eyes, because they're the exact same thoughts that’s never left yours.
You want her.
You need her.
She’ll give herself to you.
Giselle’s the first to break the pause. “Ask me.”
“Ask you what?”
The corners of eyes crinkle ever so slightly, and that's about where you realise your fate's been sealed from the start. She takes a deep breath, her chest rising and falling. You’re aching already. "What I really want for Christmas."
You don't need a map to know where this is headed. But you still ask anyway. "And what is that?"
"You."
You set down your glass with a clink. "Look, Giselle—"
"Let me finish," she interrupts, and now her hand's sliding up your arm, leaving a trail of static wherever she touches. "For Christmas this year, all I want is for you to do whatever you want to me."
A second attempt, "Giselle—"
"I know you want to. You know I want you to. We've danced around this for too long and I'm running out of ways to subtly tell you that if I don’t get my hands on that perfect cock that I know you're hiding, I just might burn this place to the ground. So," she says carefully, intentionally. Making sure you feel each word coursing through your every nerve ending, winding their way down to your cock, until you’re throbbing in your pants.
Giselle bats her eyelashes. Bites her lip. Leans even closer. Her tits get very close to winning the war against her dress.
"Don't you want to make my Christmas wish come true?"
You never stood a chance. "I do quite like my bar in one piece."
"I do too." Giselle's smile turns devilish. “But I like the idea of having your cum inside me more.”
"Then we better get you out of your clothes."
Only, a slight amendment.
"But keep the stockings on."
—
Giselle kisses you like a woman starved. Messy, sloppy crashes that has her nose bumping into yours and her teeth finding purchase in your lip. She seems determined to leave her mark. You’re more than happy to let her.
It’s a far cry from what you’re used to—the build-up, the slow crescendo where you both pretend that you don’t immediately want to jump to the inevitable—but Giselle clearly doesn’t give a fuck about any of that.
The moment you’ve dragged her over the bar, fulfilled your fantasy and cleared the countertop so the only thing standing between you and her body is the crumpled mess of her dress, she's on you. Moaning, whining into your mouth, desperate. Tongue hunting down yours, pressing into it, trying to wrestle it into submission.
Taking your cheeks into her hands, holding firm, the only thing keeping her steady as you match her hunger, heat against heat. Her taste is everything you've ever wanted—sweet and sharp, like the whiskey burning through your veins, warming you from the inside out.
"God, I needed this," she whispers in the breaths between your kisses, as your hands get adventurous and run down the length of her spine, pulling her closer into you.
You make good on your promise, finding the zip, peeling it down, leaving the fabric to sag off her shoulders. Her skin is cold underneath your fingertips, the curve of her back breaking out in goosebumps. Your touch makes her arch, her back bow, her breasts push up against her dress until it can't hang on any longer and the whole thing pools around her waist.
“Merry Christmas to me,” comes tumbling out of your mouth when you finally get to appreciate Giselle.
The full, round tits, naked and begging for your hands. The smooth curve of her waist, the dip of her stomach. The way her hips flare out, giving way to thighs that you know, just know, will be the perfect grip. And the stockings. Holding up the suspension of your disbelief—she’s so ridiculously out of your league and yet so, so needy for you.
“Fucking gorgeous, Giselle,” you’re telling her, making her sigh, her eyes closing shut as you reach out to fill your hand with her chest. Your touch makes her nipples pebble, stiffen underneath your thumb. She leans back, pushing her chest out even more, giving you as much of herself as she can for you to touch, to tweak, to worship.
And she’s so much smaller than you, so much softer than you’ve ever allowed yourself to believe. The reality of her in your arms is far more intense than any fantasy you’ve ever concocted in the quiet of the night after she’s long gone and left you with nothing but her memory. But she’s giving herself to you now, wanting you to do it all.
Letting you push into her, kiss the skin between her neck and her clavicle, press into her a brand that will linger long after you’ve both unwinded and unraveled each other.
“Just like that,” Giselle whispers in your ear, hands finding your neck, needing you even closer still. “Don’t stop, just keep touching me. You can do whatever you want—tell me what you want, and I’ll do it. Just don’t stop.”
Nothing else to do but oblige, to give in to your baser instincts, to bring every fantasy, every lurid thought to life. Giselle’s been living in your mind rent-free. Filled it with thoughts of fucking her into oblivion again and again—so you already know exactly where to go, what to do next.
You know to trace the edge of her stocking with your thumb, pressing down on the bow, watching as the skin around it flushes from your touch.
You know to drag your hand up, higher up her thighs, push the hem of her dress to her waist, slip under the elastic of her panties and hold itself there. Leave her trembling in anticipation of your touch.
“Please,” you’ve barely started and she’s already begging, breathless. Needing for you to explore her.
But first, you need to tell her how.
“I’m going to touch you,” you say, voice gruff, and she shudders, her hands tightening around your neck. “I’m going to get my fingers into your cunt, I’m going to squeeze your tits, I’m going to make you scream my name, and you will, because you’re going to be such a good girl for me. Understood?”
Her eyes flash open, meeting yours. Not an ounce of doubt. Just pure need.
“Yes,” she says. A single word that’s more a plea than a response. “Please. Do whatever you want. Make me feel good.”
She just about collapses when you yank her panties down and push your hands between her thighs.
“God—fuck—” and she’s sobbing already.
“You’re so drenched,” you’re remarking, sliding your fingers higher, feeling the wetness that’s been gathering there for who knows how long.
“For you,” she’s gasping, repeating herself, “For you.”
It’s so easy to find the heat of her, to push in and down on the top her mound. Give just the right amount of pressure on her clit that makes her jerk. Makes the muscles in her face twitch, her mouth open wide and moan. It’s a melody in your ears, and you press down harder, swirling now, and you’re beginning to think you’ve found your true calling.
Fuck making her drinks; making her fall apart is why you were put on this planet in the first place.
Her breasts jiggle with every tremble that runs through her, flickering in reach of you, taunting you with their bounce. You can’t help but lean down. Not when they’re calling to you like that.
You lick a path from the base of her neck to her collarbone, and then lower, to one of those perfect peaks that’s been begging for your attention.
Giselle inhales sharp through her teeth, her chest heaving as you start to suck on her nipple. You work your tongue around it, roll it in your mouth until her knuckles turn white against the edge of the bar, her nails digging into surface. The sounds she’s making, these choked gasps that are so raw, so needy.
Showing how good she feels with every part of her body—pushing her breasts up and into your face, her hands tangling in your hair, legs spreading wider, thighs shaking at the effort of staying upright.
You don’t let up, keep going—tongue swirling, fingers moving at double-time over her cunt, her other tit.
Listening to her turn your name into something filthy, something that sounds like a curse.
You pull back off her, cool air kissing the wetness you leave behind, making her quiver, her high, fuck-me heels knocking against wood.
“Giselle,” you say, taking in this look of bliss on her face. The teary eyes, the trembling lip, her cheeks now so very red. “Gonna make you cum now.”
You don’t wait for permission. You already have it. You step forward, lifting her legs up and trapping her atop the bar, spreading her wide open.
Two fingers at first, all at once, no hesitation. Giselle’s pupils blow wide, shocked, teeth bite down on her bottom lip, muffling a cry that you feel in the pit of your stomach. She’s so soaked that you slide right in with ease, a slow push that makes her whine, the slickness making the sounds of your fucking echo over the din of the empty bar.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck—” Giselle stutters, all breathy and desperate. Hands flying to your shoulders, nails digging in. Holding on for dear life, writhing as your fingers curl upwards, pushing up against that magical spot inside that has her clenching.
“Such a good girl,” you say, the words slipping out of your mouth like they’ve always been there, just waiting for her to hear them.
The whimper that she makes—the noise alone should be illegal.
“So tight around me,” you tell her, pushing on, focusing entirely on pulling more of these noises from her, doing your best to ignore how hard you already are, how unbearable it is to not be inside her. “So good for me.”
It’s the praise that makes her keen, makes her whine. Pushes herself onto your fingers, trying to get more, trying to get all of you. Just so fucking hot for you.
You can see it playing out across her body, the way she’s losing herself to the pleasure, giving up control of her own functions to you. So helpless, so beautiful. So fucking delighted to finally have you using her in ways she’s only dreamt of.
You’ve never seen anything like it. You’re addicted before you’ve even had her.
“This cunt is going to feel so good around my cock.”
Giselle's nodding, slurring together a string of yeses and thank yous in response.
Her pussy’s pulsing around your fingers, juices soaking your hand, she’s already so close. So close that you can almost taste the orgasm on her skin.
“You want it so fucking bad, don’t you, Giselle? Want me to fuck you senseless.”
Her eyes are glazed over, barely there. Just stunningly beautiful even in the midst of her desire, and you’re not even sure she’s heard you at all until she’s panting out, “I want it. Need it. So much. Oh, God, please, fuck me with your cock. Make me cum. Make me scream.”
But you get in close, lips to her cheek, a command for only her to hear. “You’re going to cum all over my hand. You’re going to show me how badly you want it. Understand?”
“Yes—yes, please—” is the most she can manage, a harsh whisper that barely gets through. You feel it more than hear it, a shiver running through her, down her spine and up yours. “Do it. Give me more, I need it.”
She’s nothing short of incredible. Writhing under your touch, losing herself to your fingers—there’s never been anything—anyone—like this. Anyone that runs this hot, that pleads this much, that is so eager for nothing but you, as much of you as you can give.
There’s no excuse for why it's taken so long to get here, why you let every other opportunity skate by. But now’s not the time for regrets. This is all just catch-up. Getting to this moment that’s been burning a hole in your mind. Making up for all the times when you should’ve been bringing her to her knees, should've been marking her up as yours.
“Mine,” you’re claiming, taking her lips once more, feeling the tremble in her chin. “You’re going to be mine, aren’t you?”
“Yours,” her voice quavers back into your mouth.
She kisses you back like she’s drowning, like you’re the very air she needs to breathe. And it’s all you can do to finger-fuck her faster, pressing deeper into her wetness. It’s filthy, borderline disrespectful the way that you’re owning her now. But it’s all necessary, if that’s what it’s going to take to get to feel her shatter in your arms.
But just as you can feel her hips bucking up off the counter and into your wrist, as she’s about to tip over the edge, you pull back, breaking the kiss, leaving her choking for air.
“Look at me,” you tell her, forcing her glassy eyes to refocus, to snap to yours. “I’m going to make you feel so good. You’re going to cum so hard for me. You’re going to look at me when you do.”
Giselle opens her mouth answer, but all that comes out is a whiny mewl when you slide your other hand from her tits to the back of her neck, pulling her into you, hard enough that you can feel her pulse drumming against your palm.
“That’s it, such a good girl,” you say to her, adorning her with all these sweet words that absolutely wreck her. And it’s so easy to because all of them fit. Your good girl, your slut, your baby, your whore. She deserves to hear them all. “Take it, take it all for me.”
“Fuck, please, I’m almost—” She tries and fails to put the syllables together—your fingers are too good, too precise in their frenzy. Playing her body, hitting every key, every beat, rushing to that final chorus.
And then it hits her, without warning, just a sigh and then she’s—
“I'm—I'm—cumming!”
Eyes trying to stay on yours, losing focus, turning wild, until she’s barely even there anymore.
Giselle cums.
Locking her in place, rippling across her body. Every muscle tensing, cunt quivering, hips lifting off the bar as her juices paint your hand.
“Thank you, thank you, fucking thank you—"
Her voice dies out, trapped in her throat, her words becoming nonsense as your fingers have her riding waves. You’re utterly transfixed, watching the orgasm rip across her face, melting her down to a messy puddle. Barely hanging on to you, mouth lolling open, eyes screwed shut, breaths coming in sharp and fast.
She’s limbless, her body goes slack, and you debate giving her the space, or even just a second to catch her breath, to come back to reality.
But you just don’t.
You don’t stop moving, don’t stop working her, because something tells you that the last thing she’d want is for you to stop. Something tells you that she’s one of those girls—the ones who love to chase the high. Who love to be pushed, who love to be told that they’re doing so well, that they’re perfect.
And Giselle is.
“Again,” you press into her neck, and she gives you the closest approximation to a nod that she can muster. “Again and again, I’ll make you cum until you can’t walk straight. Until you forget what it was ever like to not have my cock inside you.”
The nods come faster, insistent, following a whine as your fingers slide out of her cunt, all sticky with her juices. You bring it up to her, hold it in front of her face so she can see the mess she’s made of your hand.
Her breath hitches when she opens her eyes, catching sight of your glistening digits. You don’t even need to prompt her; she takes the initiative—she’s sucking your fingers without a second thought.
Moans when she tastes herself, sucking them clean, tongue flicking across your knuckles, pulling them into her mouth, relishing her own flavour.
“So fucking needy for it, aren’t you?”
You withdraw your fingers, enjoying the cry of protest at the loss, but you’ve got better plans for her. Pressing a kiss to her temple, before backing off completely, leaving Giselle empty, her legs wobbly.
You're quick to lose your clothes, stripping yourself off without much ceremony, tossing them aside with little care for where they end up.
And yet Giselle’s eyes rake over you, following your every move—she’s seen you before, you’ve caught her staring at your arms, your biceps, making no secret of assaulting you with her gaze at any chance she can get.
But now it’s the unbuckling of your belt, the vanishing of your jeans, the reveal of your cock. Springing free, hard and heavy.
Giselle wants it. Mouth salivating, pussy leaking at the sight of it. Oh, how she wants it.
It gives her energy, has her reaching out for a touch, a stroke. But you stop her, gently taking her wrist into your hand before she can make her Christmas wish come true.
She even has the audacity to pout. “Haven’t I been good?”
“Good?” You repeat, and you’re laughing. “You’ve been downright angelic.”
The pout quirks into a smirk, and there’s that familiar mischievous spark returning. “Then don't I deserve a little reward?” Giselle’s fingers go to her folds, spreading them apart. Putting her cunt on display, proud to show off how ready she is to be filled. “Like that big, beautiful cock of yours in my perfect little pussy?”
You don’t bother with the usual finesse, there’s no need for that. This doesn’t land anywhere on the normal spectrum of casual hook-ups to making love. This is about fucking. About need, raw and unfiltered.
“So, would you please—"
You’re yanking her by the waist before she can get started, lifting her off the bar and setting her down in front of you. There’s that thrill rushing through her, at being so easily handled, so effortlessly claimed.
She’s panting, breaths fogging up the air between you, waiting for your instruction.
“Get rid of the dress.”
Her compliance is instant—she steps out of her outfit, her panties. Until she’s just standing before you; the charm, the sex appeal, the big beautiful eyes all in view, so full of hope and desperation for the special kind of bliss only you can provide her.
Just Giselle, her fucking gift of a body in a pair of tight black stockings and high stiletto heels.
“Now,” you say, tilting your hips forward, your cock jabbing into her stomach, pressing a stamp of need into her skin. Giselle preens at the contact, practically vibrating at your touch. One more thing— “Beg.”
“Fuck me,” she says. Simply, honestly. With every ounce of her soul. “Fuck me good. Take me. Please. I need it. I need to feel you inside me. I’ve been dreaming of this, of you fucking me just like this, so—please, make it real.”
“Begging’s a good look on you, Giselle,” you murmur, finishing the rest of the thought in your head. ‘You're going to be doing a lot more of it tonight.’
She yelps when you flip her over, force her to brace herself against the bar. Her lovely ass high up in the air, her pussy drooling onto the floor.
You don't bother warning her.
You stuff your cock into her.
She fucking screams.
So wet, so slippery. Sliding in and out of her, forcing her cunt to mould itself too you. So fucking tight that you have to bite back a groan, have to fight the urge to just pound into her, to fuck her into the counter.
But there's still a pace you're setting, a rhythm that’s not quite as frantic as her needy cries. You’re in no hurry, not yet. You want to savour this. The feel of her clenching around you, the way her back arches with every thrust, her palms slapping against the bar top, leaving little smudges of sweat behind.
“God, this—” Giselle tries, but finds herself lost for words, unable to properly articulate just how good it feels to have you inside her. But the noises she makes—whimpers and gasps and moans and groans—speak volumes.
You complete the thought for her— “You fucking love this, don’t you?” You’re grunting, pressing your body to hers, nipping at her ear. Slurring these dirty thoughts like they're sweet nothings, these words of pure filth into her neck. “Love being fucked like this. Been waiting for it for so long. So goddamn desperate for it that you can’t even fucking talk.”
She’s fucking amazing. Not just the feeling—hot and tight and perfect—it’s the way she moves with you. Pure pleasure ricocheting through her, the slap of her ass against your hips, the sway of her tits underneath her, her cunt desperately trying to swallow you whole.
It’s her, her body, so alive and responsive and sensitive underneath yours. Taking your cock so deliciously, her cunt fluttering around like it’s trying to hold onto it, like it’s never going to let go.
“So, so fucking hard,” she’s found her voice, clawing back some level of composure. Enough to tense her cunt, squeeze her walls around you. Needing you to know every inch of her body, every inch of her pussy, needing you to know that it’s all yours for the taking. “God, it feels so good—doesn’t it? Fucking me here. Tell me. Tell me how good I am. Tell me I’m a good girl. Tell me you’re never going to be able to spend another second here without thinking of my pussy.”
You know she’s right, she’s leaving a part of herself here, branded into the very fabric of this bar that’s been your sanctuary. It has you pushing in deeper, a violent thrust of your hips, a little punctuation to drive her point home.
She swallows as you pick up speed, chokes on a half-formed moan—so, so fucking close. But you’ve only just begun.
Grabbing her hair, winding your fist in pink, pulling her up so she's forced to listen. The details on her face are all hazy, her makeups smudged from tears, from where she’s rubbed at her face, trying to keep the pleasure at bay. But that’s not how this goes. That’s not how any of this goes.
“You want to hear how good you’re being for me?” A harsh whisper for her, and it takes so much effort for her to just nod in response. “You want me to tell you all the filthy things I’m thinking? Everything that I’ve been dying to do to you?”
“Yes,” she pleads back. “Tell me, please—I need to hear it all.”
So you do. You lay it all on her. Every unfiltered, explicit thought you’ve had—every depraved fantasy that’s on the tip of your tongue whenever she’s around. You tell her all of it, how much of a whore you’re going to turn her into; how much of a slut you want to make her.
How this isn’t the last time. No, there’s going to be hours, days, weeks of this after. Of you fucking her here, of her coming to you just to have another taste of your cock. It’s a revelation, a promise, and it fucking ruins her.
“Every single time you've walked into here, every single time you've sat across form me, I've thought about this," you're grunting now, giving in to the urgency that’s been building up in your chest, the pressure that’s been weighing on you for what feels like an eternity. “I’ve thought about bending you over this very bar. Making you beg for it, making you scream out my name when I fuck my cum into you. Making sure every single person out there knows that this cunt is mine to take whenever I fucking want.”
It’s so fucked, the effect that hearing all this has on her. The sound of your voice, your darkest desires, the harshness of your words, it’s all too much for her, it’s everything she’s ever wanted to be told.
You’re unlocking something in her, something she’s never admitted to anyone, not her closest friends, not her bandmates, not even herself. The way you speak to her, the way you’re treating her like a perfect little fuck doll—and you’re realising that maybe, just maybe, it’s because no one’s ever fucked her well enough to find out.
There’s no room here to be gentle, there’s no way in hell she’d ever want you to be. You tighten your grip in your hair, slam into her harder, skin slapping against skin, mixing with the wet sounds of her pussy taking all of you. Each cry you fuck out of her is music, each one a little higher pitched, a little more desperate than the last.
“This is what you want isn’t it?” You’re demanding of her, even when she’s blubbering, barely able to breathe let alone respond. Just trying to hold on.
But you’re not letting her.
You’re taking her to that place that’s beyond words, that’s beyond thought. The place where all she can do is feel and react. And she’s doing that so beautifully, her body shaking, her cunt quivering around your cock. It’s building and building, the things you’re doing to her, saying to her, making her choke on her own spit, making her eyes roll back and her mouth drop open, until all she can repeat, over and over again is your name.
“Again,” she shapes another word, another plea. She’s a total disaster of need. “Please, again, make me cum again.”
“You'll cum when I say you can,” you growl, forcing her to choke on another whine. The strangled noise goes straight to your cock; makes it throb harder inside her, drive deeper into her. You let go of her hair, only to palm her tit, squeezing into the flesh hard. Giselle jolts, a squeal escaping her lips. “But since you’ve been so good, I’ll let you cum before me again. Just this once. Just because it’s Christmas.”
You’re being evil, you know it, she loves it, but it's the best part. She clearly wouldn't want it any other way.
”Yes.” Giselle’s beaming, shivering with excitement. Getting fucked into utter ruins and thanking you for the privilege. “Thank you, use my pussy, do whatever you want, just let me cum.”
That sparks an idea, “Whatever I want?”
“Whatever you want,” Giselle pants, not a single idea of what she’s agreeing to. But maybe that's the whole point. “Anything.”
There’s a grin that splits your face that you can’t help, that you don’t bother suppressing. “I’m not going to ask for permission anymore, Giselle. I’m just going to fuck you the way I want. Make you addicted to my cock. Take you how I want, cum in all your holes, fill you up over and over again.”
Giselle’s eyes go wide, nearly stops breathing entirely. So close. Knowing that the next words out of your mouth are going to decimate her completely.
“Gonna make you start the New Year knocked up.”
She freezes.
“God—” Giselle’s a fucking wreck, on the verge of something explosive, something else entirely. “Oh my God.”
She just needs you to give her that push.
“You love it, don’t you? Being made nothing more than a fucking cumdump for me? That’s what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it?”
You’re fucking her too hard, hammering into her too roughly, it’s a wonder that she can even manage a stuttered, “I—I—”
“Fucking say it, Giselle,” you say, “Spit it out.”
It’s too difficult for her to fit the words together, to form her reply, so it means all that more when she manages to tell you. “I want it.”
“Want what?”
“Your cum in me. All of it. Until I’m, until I’m—” She’s there, lost in it, in the idea of you ruining her in such a permanent, irreversible way. Or maybe completing her, making her whole, making her perfect for you and only you.
But you’re so close too. Right fucking behind her. All she has to do is say it.
“Until you breed me. Fill me with your cum, give it to me. I need it. Make me your permanent cocksleeve and never let me go. Make me yours—completely, forever yours. Make me your fucking whore.”
“Good girl.”
And with that, she’s gone.
Hits her like a fucking meteor. Leaping right off the most intense high she’s ever climbed. Bucking and quaking against your bar, your cock still impaled inside her, mercilessly undoing her. It’s nothing short of fucking pornographic, fucking depraved the way it’s destroying her.
Seizing her entire body in pleasure, her nails digging into the wood, scraping up marks that will prove to be a sweet, everlasting reminder of the exact moment she became yours. Fracturing her, breaking her apart into a million tiny pieces and then remaking her all over again as something purely sexual—something that only exists for your satisfaction.
“So fucking good, your cock, God it’s you, just you—” Giselle’s words dissolve into a keening cry that shatters the remaining silence of the bar. “Breeding me so good—”
Nothing short of a miracle that she’s still on her feet, that she can still do anything at all. One last thing she needs to do in the dying embers of her lucidity, one final goal—choke your cock with her cunt, wring you dry, make you flood her with your cum.
“Cum, cum, fill me, breed me, give me your—”
“Take it,” you exhale, “Take it all.”
And it’s Giselle in her entirety that overcomes you, overloading your senses with the pure, distilled feeling of just her. The smell of her sex, her perfume, the feel of her curves, her softness, the perfection that is her pussy, enveloping your cock, drenching it in her wetness. These things that you’ll never, ever be able to forget.
But it's her words that make you erupt.
“Breed me, Daddy!”
You cum deep into Giselle’s pussy.
Buried inside her, rushing white hot, thick and heavy. Ropes and ropes of it, spurting inside her, painting her insides, coating her walls until it’s just sheer heat and you making her whole.
Her cunt’s clenching around you, she’s begging, slurring moans and whimpers that there’s no fucking chance you have of comprehending—just basking in the knowledge that they’re desperate, needy sounds that are all for you.
She can’t keep it all in. But she needs to.
Something knocks the architecture out of her legs, but you’re quick enough to wrap your arms around her, holding her tight, keep her on her feet. Keeping her from collapsing entirely, just letting her pulse around you, clench and quiver.
You’re kissing her into the shoulder, cooing these affirmations, keeping her with you, telling her the truth of it all, “Such a good girl, Giselle. Taking my cum so well.”
Giselle can’t say anything. She sobs. Face buried in her hands. Not from pain, not even close. You’ve never seen pleasure look so much like agony. So much like release.
It’s overwhelming.
You try to make a move, take a step back. But Giselle flexes her cunt, clutching you tighter. Reaches back with her hand for your thigh to stop you.
“Wait,” she whispers. "Not yet. Don't move. Keep your cock inside me. Don't let a single drop get out."
You give her the time, because she’s just so perfect like this. So unfathomably gorgeous, all fucked up and cum-drunk. In ways no one should ever be. Like you’ve torn the wings off an angel, brought her down to Earth and made her yours.
You revel in it.
“Take your time,” you breathe; the exhaustion, the strain, the adrenaline pumping through your veins all coming to a head at once. Keeping your cock plugging up her cunt. Leaving all your cum inside.
Neither of you are moving anywhere. Not until she says so.
Giselle laughs.
“Perfect,” she sighs, voice hoarse and shaky. “I knew it would be perfect. I knew you would ruin me like this. God, I don’t ever want to go back.”
You’re laughing too, harsh, airless chuckles that feel like they’re being torn out of your chest. You twitch your cock inside her. “You think you have a say in the matter?”
“I guess I don’t,” she giggles.
You look around at the scene of the crime, the evidence you've left on her. The marks on her skin, her shoulder, her neck. The ruins of her dress, her panties. The tearing of her stockings. Her tear-filled eyes, her smeared mascara, her drooling lips.
And her cunt, so full of you, so very yours.
It’s barely believable. She may not have burned down the bar, but there’s certainly a fire that’s been set. One that’s not likely to die down anytime soon.
It has you swelling inside her all over again.
Gisele feels it.
“Say,” she starts, wriggling her hips against you, making you groan. “You didn’t have any Christmas plans, right?”
Your hands slip down to her hips, idly massaging into the small of her back. “None at all.”
Giselle’s laughter subsides into a contented exhale, her lashes fluttering as she looks at you with a soft smile. Her hand reaches back, caressing the side of your face. “And the rest of the year?”
“Nothing that can’t be cancelled.”
“Good,” she says, her breath sweet against your cheek. “Cancel them all. Close up for the holidays. Shut all the doors. Stay inside with me.”
You raise an eyebrow. “And do what?”
“Get to work,” Giselle answers, pulling you into a last kiss, threatening to undo you all over again. “You did promise to knock me up by New Years.”
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pick a pile - you in your own eyes vs. you in your fs' eyes
welcome lovely reader! let's take a peak into how you view yourself, compared to how your future lover will view you. breathe slowly, take your time and use your intuition to go with the pile that speaks to you the most. remember to take what resonates, and leave what doesn't. 𓆩♡𓆪
°❀⋆.pile 1ೃ࿔*:・
you in your own eyes
you see yourself as someone who isn't very easily impressed or satisfied. you might struggle with chronic pessimism and seeing the brighter side of things sometimes and seem aware of it. you are manifesting a better life for yourself.
you might lack substantial belief and trust in yourself to do well, and see yourself as someone who's more of capable of hoping and wishful thinking, rather than courageously taking the initiative and acting on your desires.
you believe you don't have the needed tools to follow your dreams just yet (financially, mentally or in terms of maturity) you also might be afraid of change; this could result in a habit of just staying in your comfort zone in the end.
you might see yourself as someone who's still too immature and inexperienced. not sure why this came through, but some of you might even think that you just aren't overly smart. (spirit is telling me you're wrong!) you might feel like a late bloomer who's been a little stagnant in their life or slower in your growth compared to others. a lot of comparing yourself to other people here.
i heard “dreamer with a heavy heart” from the song cruel world by faye. perhaps you could connect to that song; it talks about feeling like the world just challenges you continuously, but the dreamer inside of you remaining alive despite the hurt.
you might think that you're quite alone in this world. someone who's just used to being on your own, doing things on your own. you see yourself as a person who tries lighting their own path instead of relying on anyone else.
you see yourself as someone who's constantly wishing to learn from the things that life throws at you, and turning every life lesson into something that helps you grow.
you might experience fomo sometimes; fear of missing out.
it does seem as if you're still trying your best to hold on to this glimmer of hope within you.. you're aware that you're someone who could make it happen, if only they took a leap of faith.
you're very humble, dedicated and eager to learn at heart, so deep down you acknowledge that the potential and desire is there. you just aren't sure how to translate it into reality.
i think you're in the midst of slowly healing from negative experiences, which have had a profound impact on you. you're trying to practice self-forgiveness and letting go of the past, but still might struggle with self-doubts and insecurities.
you in your fs' eyes
your fs will see you as someone resilient with a strong personality, who's had to endure a lot of challenges and conquer many obstacles in their life. this gave you thick skin.
they might look at you as a person who wasn't as easy to get to, because you do have your walls up at first, and people need to prove themselves to you before they can get past them. they look at you as someone who's protective of their own space, and doesn't allow people to access them as easily.
their first impression might consist of seeing you in snappy defensive mode, where you had to stand up for yourself.
they'll think that you're someone independent who challenges the status quo; focused on first and foremost, going after what you set yourself up to, unafraid to stand out and be different. a person who's more interested in following their own rules, instead of joining the crowd or blending in.
your fs looks at you as a person who's determined to build their own financial stability and independence before relying on anyone else to do it.
which is interesting, because i do think this person could be relatively well off and wanting to provide you, but you don't seem very interested in basking in anyone else's money.
they could see you as marriage material quite quickly and think about building a future together, but soon after might realize you're not someone eager to jump into a commitment as such, if you don't feel secure in yourself first.
this has the potential to humble them quite a bit, and awaken the realization that you're someone more self-sufficient; and if anyone feels the desire to be with you, they gotta remain patient and consistent in their efforts.
you seem like a person who can make people work for your attention in order to understand the value of it, which your fs is likely to take notice of and feel even more intrigued by.
it's possible your fs isn't really used to people playing hard to get with them, which is why you might stand out a lot.
°❀⋆.pile 2ೃ࿔*:・
you in your own eyes
you see yourself as artistic, creative, passionate and warm.
you might believe that you're the type of person who's quite sure of what they want in material or financial terms, ready to realize your ambitions and goals in a bold manner; but with a soft spot when it comes to their emotional world.
like you usually have a strong character, but some sappy little things might still get you all sensitive, teary-eyed and emotional. some of you might be a little embarrassed about this too. (don't be, it's very endearing)
i feel like some of you might have fire suns with water moons
you might see yourself as a dreamy person, who's in love with the concept and idea of being in love. someone who often finds themselves seeking romance and everything it entails.
you look at yourself as a person who tries to find beauty in everything they do; just loving to romanticise life and its little things. you might love and identify a lot with art, music, etc.
at the same time, you seem to be aware of how you definitely are not as easy as you appear to be, and for sure find yourself cautious of people trying to take advantage of you.
like i see you as a person who can be willingly delusional sometimes just to beautify life a little bit, but absolutely not as a person who's easily fooled or played with.
it's almost like the more people get to know you, the easier it is for them to spot your more sensitive and soft side. the rest might see more of your more fiery and strong sides, since that's usually how you present yourself to the outside.
it seems like as time went on, you've learnt to be more wary of people's motives and intentions, and understood the importance of cultivating clear boundaries in terms of how closely you connect to others, and how much you let them in.
you can have your outgoing and social moments, but it's likely you've become good at keeping a healthy inner distance to a lot of people you're surrounded by; almost like making them believe they're your friend, when in your eyes they're not really.
you also might see yourself as someone who's not afraid to fight when necessary; a person who will not allow others to step all over them. you'll step over them twice as hard.
i see a lot of this inner fierceness inside of you coming from potential trust issues; not always feeling like everyone has your best interests at heart. you might have been betrayed a few times, which has taught you to be more cautious, and just keeping certain, more personal things to yourself.
you in your fs' eyes
your fs sees you as a vibrant and charismatic person, who has this very radiant and captivating presence to them.
they might feel like the world stops whenever they look at you; you make everyone and everything else feel less important.
their first impression is likely to consist of you being this attractive, charming and confident person, who has an inspiring and intriguing effect on them.
similarly to pile 3, they're likely to look at you as a person who's quite different to them in a variety of ways; whether that's your ethnicity, culture, views, beliefs, lifestyle, upbringing.
your fs sees in you, someone who can pull this spark of energy and motivation out of situations others would feel sad about.
like the type of person who's just eager to gets the spirits up if the mood ever gets too gloomy and negative.
they look at you as a bright and powerful person, who doesn't like dwelling on the past and isn't easily beat down by their losses, but on the contrary, sees them as an opportunity for a new and potentially even better start.
example, they might watch you go through a break up and wonder how much it'd affect you emotionally, just for you to get back up and appear as confident and vibrant as ever.
you're giving a person who has the best break-up glow ups.
like you wanna prove to whoever lost out on you, that it in no way is your loss, but definitely is theirs. it's giving princess diana black revenge dress.
as the connection progresses, it's likely for your fs to see you more and more as someone they'd want to settle down and start a family with.
for my girls out there; your fs might quite literally, want you to be the mother of their children. they're likely to look at you as someone who has great potential to be a mother, because you're so multi-facetted and wellrounded.
in your fs eyes', not only are you a strong, independent and self-sufficient character who's capable of confidently taking charge of situations, but you're also immensely nurturing, caring and kind towards the people dearest to you.
they think that you hold a lot of empathy and genuine love for the special people in your life, and have this natural ability to make them feel understood, and taken care of.
i thought of this moment when justin bieber talked about seeing hailey bieber with a baby and thinking “she is the one.”
also, this keeps coming through; they just think you're beautiful. like.. so so pretty. they might stare at you a lot.
“i could look at you all day and never get sick of the sight.”
°❀⋆.pile 3ೃ࿔*:・
you in your own eyes
you see yourself as a bit of a lone-wolf, someone who doesn't feel understood by many people, and doesn't really feel like they always fit into too many places.
a person who's in continuous search of their true belonging, and their spot where they feel safe and comfortable.
you think of yourself as a deep, reflective and introspective person who seeks profound understanding of yourself and life. you might be aware of how you need alone-time, as well as times of peace and quiet to recharge.
you long to find your own identity and true purpose, outside of what other people want or expect from you.
some of you might even feel the desire to move overseas in hopes that the change of environment could help you step into your power and strength more. there's some feelings of.. feeling like you're not where you should be, and believing that your current environment doesn't serve you. this isn't where you see your best self thriving and blossoming.
some of you might be using your spirituality to manifest a better life, and spend a lot of time on the internet trying to find guidance and ways to manifest your dream life.
you simply do not see yourself as a person, who's okay with just allowing others to take control of what you do, or your life.
you see yourself as a very driven person, who once they set their mind to something, absolutely have to get it done. like tunnel vision, this is what i want and nothing else.
while at the same time, you usually aren't someone who acts on a completely impulsive whim; you try your best to make all your decisions based on logic and reason.
you might recognize yourself as being a fairminded person, who's eager to balance your focus on your goals and your strong determination, with the importance to remain responsible and just in the way you get there.
there might be a struggle in you, between following the path you deem as best for yourself, while also making sure the people around you don't have to suffer because of it.
this dilemma between serving yourself, and serving others.
the dilemma between standing out, and fitting in.
you're strong, pile 3.. i know the road here wasn't easy, but you're persevering and doing an absolutely applaudable job.
you in your fs' eyes
your fs will view you as someone who's quite different to them. a person who's like a breath of fresh air.
they might notice that you hold beliefs different to them, proceed with things differently or approach certain situations differently, and therefore intrigue them majorly.
they'll look at you as a person who can transform them. someone who has the potential to change their life in a significant and impactful manner.
they also could see you as someone quite unpredictable, who always brings something new and fresh to the table.
your fs could be someone with masculine energy, potential earth sign. they're someone who's work-oriented, mature, possibly older than you in age, good with money and has a strong sense of responsibility.
they will see you as a person who's much more in tune with their emotions than them, and has this beautiful sense of empathy, and compassion for the people around them.
a loving person who supports others in a gentle and caring manner, and has a comforting and warm effect on them.
they will like how you bring this new sense of affection into their environment.
you could help them steer their gaze away from work work work, and make them believe in the beauty of love again.
like this person will literally have their fantasies awakened because of you. you will make them believe that soulmates are real, and that they finally found their person in you.
the puzzle piece they didn't know was missing in their lives.
it's almost like “how am i so attracted to pile 3.. when they're so different to me?” you'll quite literally have them wrapped around your finger.
this person might be someone who's usually quite stubborn and stuck in their ways, but something about your unique existence will change that; they'll want to understand someone else's opinions for a change.
they'll truly feel this desire to put themselves into your shoes and look at things from your point of view. you might quite literally teach them what empathy means.
both of you give the vibe of someone more independent, but are likely to change that for each other.
like you will make your fs want to be alone together with someone; that person will be you. and vice versa.
you'll find home in each other.
oh i could go on & on about this pile, the energy is so sweet
even as i started shuffling, i already began going into full on dreamy lovey-dovey 🥰 mode
#kpop tarot#pac reading#pac#tarot reading#tarot community#tarot#personal reading#pick a card#pick a pile#pick a card reading
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Little Angel
Pairing: Spencer Reid × virgin!fem reader
Genre: SMUT, some fluff, a little tiny smidge of angst. MINORS DNI 18+
Summary: As the youngest and most innocent member of the BAU, they all take care of their little angel. When they find out just how innocent you are, though, one member takes his possession to the next level. You're his little angel, and he's determined to have you.
Warnings: loss of virginity, loss of innocence, degradation, pet names, oral sex, thigh riding, fingering, cum marking, love bites, Spencer is territorial and possessive, Dom! Spencer Reid, PinV sex, mentions breeding, but he pulls out.
A/N: We've reached Day 8 of kinktober! It's our second "long" fic, meaning there's a bit more plot to this, and the smut scene is longer too (WC is almost 7k!) I hope you love this one just as much as I did... The kinktober masterlist can be found here, and my regular masterlist is here too! If you want something specific, my requests are open ❤️
Your first three months with the BAU were a blur, and for good reason. Endless cases, back-to-back, interrupted only by the slight hint of a weekend or the ever possible death row interview. You were tired, stressed, and afraid to walk home alone at night, and absolutely satisfied. As far as you were concerned, it was all worth it to get these monsters off the streets, to help save their victims and to find out what made them tick. There was nothing else you'd rather be doing.
The team had helped you settle in well, too. You'd joined the team after Alex Blake had left - she'd recommended you actually from the college seminars you'd taken with her. You were obviously lacking a bit of experience, so they took on two team members, and you and Kate Callahan had the great opportunity of both being the newbie. But you had a slight disadvantage of age, coming in as the youngest member of the team. You thought that might be why you'd settled in so well, in all honesty.
Hotch and Rossi were both protective in a fatherly way. Hotch pushed you and Rossi encouraged you and that was everything you needed from them. A strong pat on the back at the end of a case and a "you did good, kid," and whatever hell they'd pushed you through, it was worth it. Morgan's tough love was brotherly, but he did a great job at getting you to relax on and off the case, reminding you to not take the work home. JJ and Kate were great mentors. It wasn't easy being women in the FBI, let alone the unit that specifically looked into some of the most misogynistic killings, rapes and abductions in the world. They both gave you tips about how to handle condescending officers, and JJ had held your hair back after you'd puked your guts up on a particularly harrowing day in the field. With Penelope, friendship was easy, and you loved talking to her about whatever hyperfixation you were on that week, loving that there was someone on your team that had filled their life with genuine joy in the face of so much horror.
And Spencer. Honestly, you were beginning to think that you'd used Spencer as a human stuffed toy a bit too much.
You don't know how it happened at first, just that after one of your first few cases, you'd been so elated to find a victim alive, safe but traumatised, that you'd thrown yourself into his arms the minute you got back to the precinct.
"We did it, I thought she was going to be dead, Spencer but she isn't." Your head was pressed into his chest, you were almost surprised he even heard them, muffled as they were. If you weren't so elated, you'd have noticed the way he'd stiffened at your touch, panicking slightly before awkwardly wrapping his arms around you, too. But you pulled away before you could notice that he wasn't really used to any physical comfort, bouncing off to write up your case report.
Spencer noticed, though. Noticed how the heat of your body made him feel comforted, the way his heart rate increased to 125 BPM from it's base rate and didn't fall back to normal for another half hour. He noticed that you smelt like jasmine and patchouli, and more importantly, he noticed that he didn't really care if you touched him, and that was new.
It became a kind of ritual for you, finding him after a case and folding into his arms to celebrate. They were friendly hugs, after all, a sign that you'd been through hell together, and you'd made it through like avenging angels. They only lingered longer when the cases went badly. You turned to crying in his arms after you'd discovered the body of a dead street girl, Veronica, in pieces in the house of an unsub who'd committed suicide by cop moments earlier.
"I told her she'd be safe if she talked to us, Reid. I told her we'd protect her, that I'd protect her." You were so hurt by that failure that he'd had to drive you home that night, holding your hand the entire way so you didn't feel so alone, left to fester in your guilt.
The rest of the team had begun teasing you about the hugs, but you'd brushed them off. You hugged everyone else too, and you knew for a fact that Penelope hugged every member of the team, so there was nothing special going on between you and Spencer. No one had deigned to inform you of Spencer's germophobia and aversion to touch.
"Gonna tell me what that's all about?" Morgan asked Spencer as you bounced away from a hug one day, leaving to remove your FBI vest.
"What what's all about?" He replied coldly, turning away to remove his own vest, replacing it with his blazer.
"What, you don't have a statistic for how many germs are passed between people during a hug, Kid, come on, you were practically smelling her hair." The older man's eyebrows raised in a question again, but Spencer continued to blow him off.
"I hug people all the time, it's not a big deal." He shrugged.
"It took you four years to return one of Penelope's hugs, and you still only do that on special occasions. That's not all the time."
"Derek, just drop it. There's nothing going on, she just… She just does it sometimes."
It was when you'd hugged him in the middle of the office, without a case to use as an excuse, that you noticed an underlying tension in the office. You were all celebrating, of course, Callahan had just announced her pregnancy, and you were all so happy for her. You'd heard the happy news and instantly turned and thrown yourself into Spencer's arms. Even you weren't sure why, not even questioning it until you saw the awkward glances on the other profilers' faces. You brushed it off by rushing to give each of them hugs, and running out in a mad flush, needing air, or water or something to get you out of what was looking more and more like an interrogation room.
A few cases later, the entire team headed to O'Keefe's to celebrate.
"To another case successfully solved," Morgan toasted, and you all joined him, lifting your glasses in triumph.
"To the wonders of non-alcoholic beer," chimed in Kate, leaving you all laughing together. The booth was small, and as usual, you'd found yourself sat right in the arms of Spencer Reid. You hadn't intended it, honestly, having slightly avoided him recently, but you'd followed Penelope into her side of the circular table, and Reid had followed you. You were sat squished between them, your arms resting awkwardly on your lap between drinks.
"Okay, a night of drinking is slightly boring without some games to spice things up, what do you say, hot chocolate?" Penelope said, addressing Morgan who was on her other side.
"I'm all ears, baby girl. What were you thinking?"
"How about twenty questions? We already know a lot about each other, let's see what we don't know?" Kate suggested, thriving off of the knowledge that as the sole sober member present, she'd hold all the cards tomorrow.
"What, how is asking questions a game?" Reid questioned jokingly from beside you. "That's just an interrogation or a therapy session, there's no winner or loser."
Already slightly buzzing from your drink, you turned to him and out your fingers in his lips, shushing him.
"No time for logic in matters of the bottle, Spencer. Let's play." He pulled your fingers off him, but nodded, holding them in his grip still as you turned back to the table.
"I'll start! JJ, are you and Will thinking of having more baby LaMontagne's?" Penelope jumped at the chance to probe her teammate, and you laughed at her enthusiasm.
"There have been discussions, but I'll not confirm or deny yet." JJ said, taking a sip of her drink as she slyly avoided a direct answer.
"I always forget why you were so good with the press, Miss No Answers. Okay, your turn to ask a question."
"Okay, Morgan. Are you thinking of popping the question to Savannah anytime soon?"
"Did she send you?" He laughed and took a drink. "If I do, she'll be the first to know."
The game went back and forth like this for a few rounds before Penelope turned the spotlight back to you.
"Okay, Y/N. You were a college student recently, I know you've got some wild stories. Where's the craziest place you've ever done it?" You knew Penelope didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. She was just an open person.
But you shifted in your seat nonetheless, trying to figure out if you could answer or even if you would. Your tongue was a bit looser than you expected though, because before you could even finish thinking you just blurted it out.
"Nowhere."
The others blinked at you slightly before Penelope dived in with another question.
"Is that Nowhere, Oaklahoma, or you're just not having sex in crazy places?"
"No. I'm not… I'm not having sex. Period. Never have." You felt yourself shrink as the other members of the team awkwardly apologised for probing you so much. Really it wasn't that big of a deal, and it wasn't as if you were saving it for religious or moral reasons. But you'd not been the most popular teenager, and you'd started studying serial killers and sociopaths so early that you really hadn't wanted to get so intimate with someone else like that.
Unbeknownst to you, Spencer's grip on his own drink had tightened ever so slightly, his heart race had picked up again, and suddenly the hand that was holding yours suddenly let you go, quietly dropping your fingers like they were glowing cinders, and he was dripping in gasoline, waiting to ignite.
Lust. He felt sick with himself for the images that were suddenly flashing through his mind now that he knew you'd never been held in that way, trying not to fantasise about you underneath him, holding him, begging him, feeling all of him. He took another swig of his drink and politely excused himself to get another as he let himself catch some air, as the sudden realization that he wanted you - and had wanted you for quite some time now - finally hit him.
The next couple of weeks were normal, and you were thankful to have that discussion behind you. No one treated you differently, acted like you were more of a child than before, asked you how your dating life was or set you up on blind dates, which was really refreshing actually. You'd let some friends know previously, and that's all they'd done, surprised that you could live ignorant to wonders of sex without shrivelling up and dying.
The only thing that was different was Spencer. And that wasn't really difference so much as growing more comfortable with each other. He'd rest his hand on the small of your back now in support sometimes, or have a hand slung over the back of your chair when sitting together. He was constantly at your side, especially if you were around male suspects or officers who'd taken a bit of a ballsy approach.
You liked it, probably a bit too much. You gravitated towards him in a room filled with people, and found yourself hugging him more often, when you left a room, when you entered one, when he looked like he needed it. Which, recently, was all the time. A month went by with this increased comfort level, and soon you found yourself feeling wrong if his hands weren't on you.
He stood close to you all the time, and you noticed the stares you were getting from everyone else. A few officers who'd approach you would apologise to him when they noticed him at your back, hand on your hip as he pulled you away.
After one case, you could even swear that you felt more than him than you were expecting. He'd moved away slightly in between one of your hugs, but you'd pulled his arms back around you and stepped closer, pressing your back against his chest, letting your head rest on his arms. Something hard and long wedged up against your ass, and in a split second he was pulling away before you could ask him about it. He excused himself, and you felt your body burn up. It was Spencer, it was just Spencer and that wasn't because of you, it was some other reason.
Spencer didn't know what he was doing. He grew more possessive over you by the day, and he'd honestly nearly bitten the head off an officer who asked him for your number.
"Sorry, she doesn't have a phone."
"But I saw her with one earlier. Look I get it she's FBI, and you guys are-"
"Okay, so she's not interested."
"Hey, why don't you let her decide that wise guy?"
"Oh sure, get angry I'm sure she'd love that. She's not interested, she has me." He couldn't help himself from getting in the officers face at that, and Morgan had to pull him back from the edge.
"Wow, wow, hey, calm down." The officer stormed out, and he felt triumphant for only a second before Morgan rounded on him.
"Whatever this thing you've got going on, Spencer, you need to get it out of your system as soon as possible." His voice was low and stern, throwing a glance over his shoulder to where you were sitting, staring confusedly through the glass at Spencer, whose eyes refused to move from your own.
" I just wanted him to back off, she doesn't like him like that."
"No, you wanted him to back off because you've marked her like some animal marking its territory. She's not your prey, Spencer, she's our team member, now you're gonna have to get your act together and leave her alone, because we've got work to do."
Sighing and throwing his hands through his hair again, he finally looked away from you and gathered his breath. He wanted to stop this too, this horrible perverted feeling of needing his hands on you, wanting to possess you day and night. To protect you. He just wasn't sure if he was strong enough to do that.
The next time you all went to O'Keefe's he certainly tried. You expected him to follow you into the booth again - he didn't, sitting opposite you next to JJ. You expected him to talk to you or look at you for more than a second at a time - he didn't, avoiding most conversations entirely and keeping his eyes fixed on the bar. You certainly expected him to still be sat at the table when you returned from the bathroom, ready to slip into the seat beside him, force him to talk to you. Instead he was gone, and you scanned the rest of the bar trying to locate him.
Something green and vile jumped you when you finally locked onto him, stood at the bar, surrounded by other women. Surrounded was maybe an exaggeration, as there were really only two of them, but they were practically draping themselves over him, and for some reason that set something alight inside of you.
You watched them for a moment, how one of them trailed a hand up his arm as he shuddered away from their touch, the other pressing herself against the bar so her chest pushed up dramatically. The green bile in your throat carried your feet forwards, and before you knew it, you were clearing it from your throat to grab their attentions.
"Spencer, there you are!" You brightened your tone specifically, as you locked eyes with his panicked ones. The two girls looked you up and down as you moved closer, brushing past them to climb up right into his lap on the barstool, pulling his arm around you as you pressed your ass into his crotch.
"Are you going to introduce me to your new friends?" The smile didn't reach your eyes as you let your back rest against his chest comfortably, watching the women to see their reactions. The one touching him pulled her arm back instantly, and the other readjusted her dress before they both left silently, carrying their glasses back to wherever they came from.
You watched them leave a little triumphantly before the green faded, and you realised what you had done.
"Y/N…?" His voice was hesitant in your ear, and you shivered slightly before pushing off of him.
"I'm so sorry, Spence, it just- it… looked like you were hard." You panicked again, pushing closer to him. "No, like you were in a hard situation, not that you were," your hand accidentally dropped to his crotch as you spoke your final words: "Hard."
He twitched beneath you as you finally looked down to where your hand was, as his mouth opened to say something.
"Y/N…" was all you heard before you turned around, and fast walked to the entrance, picking your bag up quickly on the way, and then sprinted the second the cold air hit your face.
You cursed yourself inwardly as you ran the three blocks more to your apartment, thankful that you were at least in walking (or apparently running) distance. What the hell had you been thinking? Practically sexually harassing one of your coworkers like that, grabbing his dick, albeit accidentally.
You slammed your door shut behind you, leaning against it and sliding to the floor as you finally accepted that whatever this was with Reid, it wasn't friendship for you anymore. And you weren't sure if it had ever been.
With your head between your legs, arms wrapped tightly around yourself, you started replaying each moment with him, each touch from the very first. How even the memory of a brush past you could excite a fire in your heart, a heat between your legs growing by the second.
You wanted to crawl pathetically into bed and not think about him until the next morning at work, but fate, or Doctor Spencer Reid, had other plans.
The knock at your door was sudden and incessant, the banging starting loud, and staying consistent until you tentatively pulled it open.
He was stood there, chest heaving, looking down at you, sweat coating his forehead.
"Can I… Come in?" He asked, and you nodded, too stunned at his sudden appearance to tell if this was real or just your fantasy becoming a little too realistic.
He thanked you for letting him inside, and you showed him inside, guiding him to he couch, where you took a seat opposite him.
"I wanted to make sure you were okay, you left in a rush and…" He trailed off, eyes flicking down to your lips. His Adam's apple bobbed with his swallow, and you watched it yourself, trying to avoid meeting his eyes, as if you were a schoolgirl about to get in trouble with a disappointed teacher.
"I'm okay."
"Okay, that's great, that's… Great." His breaths caught up to him, and he took another deep breath and a swallow before continuing. "How about we continue that game from last time. Twenty questions?"
You'd do anything to stop him walking out of that door, but you felt too shy to touch him again, even in the friendly ways you were used to, so you eagerly accepted.
"Yes, that… That sounds fun, thank you."
"Okay. Question one. Do you know why I'm here?" He asks as he shifts closer to you, still not touching, but at a proximity where it would be natural to accidentally brush against one another.
"N-No. But I might have an idea." He nodded at your response before moving on to his next question.
"Question two. Are you a virgin?" He didn't trip or stumble over the words, pushing them out slowly and delicately so as not to offend.
"Yes." The lump in your throat was thick, almost as if he'd put something there that you couldn't help but choke on.
"Question three. Do you want to remain a virgin?"
You shook your head no, following it with your voice seconds later as he stood up from his seat, putting some distance between you.
"Question four. Do you feel intoxicated or drunk right now?" He held himself still as you sat on the very edge of your chair, desperate to feel his hands on you now.
"No, I only had one sip at the bar before…" He held up a hand to silence you, and you did.
Question five. Answer me honestly. Do you like it when I touch you?"
"Yes." Your breath was a whisper, but it was breathy, sounding almost pornographic in your neediness.
"Question six. Do you like it when other people touch you?"
"Do you?" His head snapped back to yours, and you froze under his gaze. "Not as much." You answered and relaxed again, pouting slightly at his lack of answer.
"Question seven. Do you like me touching other people?" He took a step closer to you again with this question, but you continued pouting as you shook your head.
"No. I don't." His lips quirked upwards before he could stop them, but he gathered himself together again.
"Question eight. Do you want me to leave?" You met his eyes at that question, taking one good, hard, long look at him. You noted the tensed jaw, the clenched fists, his stiff body language, trailing your eyes over him before looking him directly in the eyes.
"No." You let the word hang on your tongue, pulling it out a bit longer than was necessary as you watched him take in a shaky breath.
"Question nine. Do you want me to come over there and kiss you?"
"God, yes." He was on you in seconds, restraints gone, throwing himself back at you as his lips collided with your own. Virgin you may be, but you'd kissed men before, and it had been nothing like this.
His hands trailed up to your hair, tipping your head back slightly so he could gain better access. He bit your lip and thrust his tongue into your mouth when you gasped, so eager to consume every part of you whole.
You'd never felt like this before.
He pulled away, and you tried desperately to chase his lips, even as your lungs begged you to stop.
"Last question," he whispered in the space between you, holding the sides of your face at a distance so neither of you could be tempted to dive in for a second kiss, or a third, or fourth. "Do you want me to fuck you?" You whimpered at his words, nodding furiously as you tried to lunge at him again, but he held you firm.
"I need you to say your answer, baby. I need to hear your consent, okay?" You nod again and open your mouth, eyes never leaving his lips as you moan out a definitive "yes."
Instead of letting your lips fall against his again, he lunges for you, grabbing your legs and hauling you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style all the way back to your bedroom.
"Gonna do it right," he mutters to himself as he throws you down on the bed, pulling back to take off his jacket and unbutton the cuffs on his shirt, rolling the sleeves up meticulously.
"I'm going to take care of you, Y/N, okay?" You nod at him and flush, suddenly feeling the strength of his need for you as he holds himself back. He puts his hands on you again, gently coaxing your legs apart, pushing your skirt up over your hips. Reflexively, you move your hands over yourself, covering your sensitive places with your hands.
"Don't cover yourself." His voice is strong, deep, as he orders you, and you let your arms drop back to your side. He traces his hands up and down your legs, almost as if he were memorising every inch of your skin, how you felt under his hands.
His hands make their way up to your panties, and you watch with baited breath as he moves you, pulling your hips up so he can let them fall down. The lace material tickles you as he pushes them past your thighs, over your knees and finally off your legs entirely, balling them up and putting them in his pocket.
"I'm going to touch you now, okay?" He asks it like a question, but he doesn't wait for your answer, unable to hold himself back before diving straight between your legs, so desperate to taste you that he's deaf to everything else.
His tongue connects with your sensitive area first, tracing up and down at a steady pace as his legs half-heartedly push your legs open. It's almost as if he's enjoying the pressure of your legs wrapped around him, suffocating between your thighs as he feels your pleasure build, and build.
Eventually he pushes your hips further apart, letting himself push his face into even more of you, his tongue entering your hole as he begins fucking it in and out of you, fingers coming back up to your clit to keep up the pressure there.
"Spencer, please, please, fuck."
"I love it when you beg for me like a needy little slut," he whispers, holding your legs apart as he looked up at you, face slick with your arousal. Your mouth drops wide at his words, and he immediately begins to retract them.
"I'm sorry, Y/N, if that was too far, I just got caught up -"
"I liked it." You said, quieting him as you spread your legs a bit further apart, begging for him to continue. He smiled and dived right back in, bringing his other hand up under your dress, all the way to your chest as you kept your legs open yourself.
He sucked your clit into his mouth, lapping up all the juices you were releasing as you moaned underneath him, bucking into his face at the memory of his degradation.
You were a needy little slut, and you needed him to make you cum. He was more than happy to oblige.
He kept you there for what felt like forever, drinking you in for as long as he could. You orgasmed twice before he finished, completely overstimulated by the way he was desperately fucking you with his mouth.
He was obsessed with you, with your scent, your taste, with being the first ever person to ever touch you like this, to fuck you, to make you feel so good. Without him even realising, you're pushed to the brink for a second time, shuddering under the heat of his mouth as he drinks you in.
He finally pulls his head up again, coming up for air as you're twitching under him.
"Perfect, baby, so perfect for me." His lips fall down to your own, and suddenly you're tasting yourself on his tongue. It's hypnotising, and despite the pleasure you've just received, you need more, desperate to feel him on you again.
When he pulls his mouth away, he replaces himself with his fingers, pushing them into your mouth.
"Suck," he says and you listen, as he watches the way you lick yourself off of him.
He unzips your dress with his free hand, carefully pulling your arms out of the sleeves and pushing your dress off your body. You trace your tongue around every ridge of his fingers, leaving no inch undiscovered. He moved you to pull the dress of, and you graciously followed, letting him do whatever he wanted to you.
"Nice little slut, tasting herself on my fingers?" He whispered when you were finally bare, pulling his fingers from your mouth, letting the trail of spit hang between you as you moaned.
He removed himself from over you, and moved to sit on the edge of the bed.
"Come here. Come and sit on my lap."
You cautiously followed his directions. You'd thought that he'd fuck you then, after spending so long getting you ready, but apart from his tie, which he was in the middle of discarding as you crawled over to him, he hadn't derobed any further.
"That's it baby, come and sit yourself down right here." He pat his thigh and you crawled over, lowering yourself down onto his clothed leg.
"What now, Spencer?" You stuttered the words out, heart beating as you awaited his instructions.
"Now, I want you to rock your hips back and forth. Just like this." He grabbed your hips and started moving you against his leg, pushing you down to grind into him.
"Spencer, wait, I don't know-"
"I do. I know you can do it, so please try. For me." You pulled you in for a kiss, and then removed his hands from you, leaving you to rock against his thigh.
You were unsure of the movements at first, moving slowly as you dragged your aching cunt up and down the top of his pants, watching as you saw the wet patch you were making. You moaned with each movement, growing faster and more confident as you continued.
"That's it baby, use me to get yourself off, okay? Let me see you." He whispered in your ears, pushing your sweat-slicked hair ou of your face, holding it up for you.
"Spencer please," you don't even know what you're asking for as you beg him, feeling that familiar bubble in your stomach grow.
"No, you can do it. You look so beautiful like this, Y/N, so desperate for my cock, huh?" You start trying to unbutton his shirt, desperate to see more of him, to feel more of his bare skin on your own. But he stops your hands and holds them against his chest.
"You need to ask nicely first, before trying to undress me like a needy little whore." The words should sound violent, should humiliate you, but his voice is so soft you simply move faster, moaning and desperate to cum one more time.
"Fuck, Spencer, I'm gonna… I'm gonna…"
"No, you're not." Before you finish, he pulls you off his leg, hauling your body back onto the bed, and laying you back down on your back. You moan in disapproval, so frustrated with the lack of release that you feel tears prick the corners of your eyes.
"Don't cry, baby. I'll give you what you want soon." He practically rips his clothes off, pulling his vest over his head, stumbling over each button and removing his belt and pants before climbing over to you. His cock finally free you take your first glance at it.
You'd never entirely been sure how it was that the male appendage fit inside something as small as your pussy, and you were doubly unsure about how Spencer's was ever going to fit inside you. You stared at it wide eyed, as you took in the length, the girth, and the heat of it as he stroked it in one hands, pushing on top of you.
He let go of it as soon as he was between your legs, letting it fall onto your stomach as he crawled between your legs. He trailed a finger over your lower abdomen just around where his cock was twitching against you as his other hand came up to stroke your hair.
"You look worried, Y/N, what's wrong?"
"Will it, um, will it fit?" You asked, knowing how cliché you sounded.
"We've spent the last thirty-seven minutes loosening you up with foreplay. It should fit, but I can't promise it won't hurt."
"Right, if my hymen is still intact you have to…"
"That's right. And then it's going to reach all the way in you to here," with each word, he stepped his fingers up from your clit to where the tip of his dick sat on your stomach, letting you come to terms with exactly how full you were about to be.
"I'm going to fill you, and you're going to be mine, and I'm going to be yours. My sweet angel." He stroked your face, catching his thumb on your lips on the way down, tempted to thrust it into your mouth again, to see just how much of a whore you could be, given the chance.
Instead, he lined himself up with your dripping core, and, making sure one last time that this is what you wanted, slowly pushed in.
It was uncomfortable at first, having something so wholly alien inside of you, you weren't sure how to react. You wrapped your arms around him, digging your nails in, deep, as he pushed in further.
"Y/N, I need to move more now, and it's going to hurt a little, you just have to trust me, okay?" He kissed the top of your head, but you were so lost in the sensations to answer. With one swift jerk of his hips, he pushed through your hymen, and fully sheathed himself inside of you. He pressed small kisses everywhere on your face, while whispering to you how beautiful you were.
"You're doing so good for me angel, I'm going to take care of you. Going to make you feel so much better than this. You're so beautiful." His lips were distractingly sweet, as were his words, and soon you found yourself relaxing into him, the sharp pain of earlier fading to an electric buzz inside of you.
You jerked your hips up to meet his, and with that, he knew you were ready. From his words, you'd assumed that he'd move slowly in you. But with one final lingering kiss to your lips, he lifted his chest up, pinned your legs tightly down, and started thrusting hard and fast.
"Sorry, just couldn't help myself baby. Needed to see you looking ruined underneath me." Moans spilled out of your mouth with his every movement, and the orgasm you'd built up earlier hit you like a ton of bricks, blackness hazing over your eyes as they rolled back in your head.
"Fuck, fuck, Spencer, don't stop!" You screamed at the top of your lungs, unable to control your pitch or volume as he slammed into you desperately. He was so turned on by the sight of you beneath him, so proud of having fucked away your virginity, to have given you your very first penetrative orgasm that he wouldn't have heard anything that came out of your mouth.
His eyes were fixated at the place between you, where you joined, where he was entering you, defiling you, claiming you, using you, breeding you.
He knew he wouldn't cum inside of you, not the first time, but it was tempting. Instead, he chose to move his lips back to your skin. He marked you with love bites and hickeys across your neck, chest and shoulders as you moaned with every roll of his hips, shuddering on his cock. He was close. And seeing you like this, displaying all the signs that you were his and his only, he finally lost it.
Pulling his dick out of you, he stroked it through his release, spraying his seed over the parts of your skin he hadn't bruised with love. Your stomach, your breasts, hell, one spurt even landed dangerously close to your lips, he was everywhere. You. Were. His.
He fell beside you, panting for a few moments as you finally cracked your eyes back open, realising what the two of you had just done. You wiped the cum from your face with a stray finger, staring at it for a second before licking it off your finger.
"As hot as that was, I think we should get you cleaned up properly, angel." He spends forever cleaning you up, carrying you to the bathroom, washing your entire body with hot water and a fresh cloth, running you a hot bath to relax your muscles. You snuggle into his chest at some point in the bath, relaxing so much into him, that you drift off to sleep.
You feel him carry you to bed, semi-conscious, tucking you in and climbing in next to you. He holds you through the night, the way he holds you after your bad cases. He holds you until he doesn't.
You're blindsided by the cold bed the next morning. You knew he would be there, you'd felt him inside you and next to you, and you'd needed his warmth, but he was gone. You looked for him in every other part of your home, looked for a note or an explanation, but there wasn't one.
Through tears, you got ready for work, ready to face him and make him answer why he was suddenly gone. You wanted him to apologise, especially since he'd marked you so badly the night before you looked like a car crash victim from the neck down.
Dark lavender blossomed along your collar bones as you looked at yourself in the mirror, trailing a finger along every place that he touched the night before.
"How could you be so stupid?" You cursed yourself. If you'd have listened to what he was saying last night, really listened, you'd have known he wasn't going to be here in the morning. He wanted to ruin you, to possess you, to take away your virginity, and he'd done just that.
You almost wanted to keep the bruises on display going into work, to make him confront the pain he caused you by leaving. In the end, it was the inevitable stares from everyone else that convinced you otherwise. You wouldn't give him the satisfaction.
You pushed through the doors to the bullpen and didn't bother putting your bag down before you started scanning the room for him.
"Where's Spencer?" You practically shouted the words at Morgan, unable to hold back your anger.
"Y/N, what's wrong?"
"Where is he?" You demand, and there must be something in your eyes that speaks to your devastation because Morgan shuts up and just points to the top of the stairs, where Spencer is exiting Hotch's office without a care in the world.
You don't realise that something is tears until you're beating a hand against his chest in frustration as they spill down your face.
"Where were you?" You demand, sobbing into his chest, as he pulls your hands away. The entire office is watching your commotion, but you don't care, you're not letting him move you out of the way.
"Y/N, I need you to sign this." His voice is calm, and you hate him for that. That he can stay so neutral when he's just broken your heart.
"No, not until you tell me why you left."
"Sign the papers, Y/N, trust me." He pulls your chin up so you can look him in the eye, and you catch a glimpse of the man who has been holding you, comforting you for the last four months. You snatch the pen from him and sign the papers, thrusting them back at him with a scowl.
He smiles as he looks down at them, placing them back on his desk before pulling you in for a long, deep kiss. You're shocked at first, but you melt into it, pulling him closer so he can't leave again.
"I'm sorry. I had to come into the office to declare our relationship, Morgan sometimes tells me I have a one track mind, and when I woke up this morning, the one thing I wanted to do was get it in writing that you were mine."
Your push the tears out of his face, and attempt to pull him down for another kiss. You don't get the chance, as the sound of several throats clearing around you burst your bubble.
"Public space, no canoodling." Rossi shouts down at you from the balcony, a soft smirk on his face.
Penelope runs in from her office, and stares wide-eyed at the lack of space between the two of you. "You! And you! Security cameras….. You!"
"Now, I'm sure there's a story here, but from the state of our little angel's neck here, I'm sure I don't want to hear it." Derek laughs, smacking Spencer on the back in praise as he walks up the stairs to the meeting room.
You slap a hand over your neck, trying to pull the turtleneck further up to hide the mark you evidently missed.
"She's my angel, now." Spencer calls up to him. "I have the paperwork to prove it."
#spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid smut#mgg#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fandom#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x reader smut#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x oc#dom spencer reid#spencer reid kinktober#criminal minds kinktober#kinktober 23
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Crossroads Romance | p.hs 🩰
pairing: park sunghoon x reader 𐙚🧸ྀི
wc: 19.7k
synopsis: after disappearing for two years, Sunghoon finally comes back as stunning as ever. Rumour has it he has a new girlfriend?
warning: not proof read! p in v, oral f receive, kissing, skin-ship, a bit of reader x heeseung, sexting, masturbating, makeup s.x, angst, smut, degrading, praising, sunghoon being just too perfect
mdni.
During the first two years of university, you had an amazing time. You became very popular, never missed a class, and received daily confessions from boys. Safe to say you were the making campus’ “it” girl.
While your friends were busy dating and having relationships, you were focused on your studies. You didn’t have time for romantic entanglements when you were determined to graduate at the top of your class.
After your boyfriend disappeared without a trace, you stopped believing in love. Even so, you still hold onto a faint hope that someday he will come back for you. In your dreams, you always imagine the day he returns.
Your friends encouraged you to move on and meet someone new, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Every time you saw a happy couple on campus, your thoughts would drift back to him.
Although you have gone on a few dates with attractive men, none have made an impression on you as deeply as Sunghoon once did.
Your heart longed for the connection you had shared with Sunghoon, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that nobody else could fill the void he left behind.
While you were absorbed in your thoughts, a commotion erupted nearby. A group of students had formed a circle around something, blocking your view. Curiosity gnawed at you, and you inched closer to see what was happening.
As you weaved through the curious onlookers, you caught a glimpse of something that took your breath away. Standing in the center of the crowd was none other than Sunghoon.
"I can't believe he's back," one student whispered, their eyes wide with shock.
"Yeah, he had a glow up definitely," another chimed in, their voice tinged with awe.
The murmurs around you grew louder as people discussed his unexpected return. Some whispered about how he had vanished without a trace, while others commented on how good he looked. One thing was unanimous: everyone seemed to be talking about him.
Your heart pounded in your chest as you watched him from afar. He looked even more captivating than you remembered, and the memories of your past relationship flooded back at full force.
You frantically pushed through the crowd, approaching Sunghoon, whose towering frame loomed over you. To your relief, he appeared surprised to see you.
His eyes widened in surprise when he caught sight of you. A range of emotions flickered across his face, including realization and a hint of guilt. For a brief moment, he hesitated, unsure of how to react.
“y/n?” he finally spoke, his voice laced with a mix of surprise and uncertainty. The sound of his deep, familiar voice stirred up a whirlwind of memories inside of you. It was as if no time had passed at all.
You gazed at him, your mind struggling to process whether he truly stood before you or if it was merely a dream. After a moment, you stuttered a response, "Y-yeah, that's me." Despite the changes over the past two years, you also experienced a significant transformation, enhancing your appearance.
His eyes scanned over you as if seeing you for the first time. His gaze lingered for a moment before his stoic expression softened into a faint smile. He didn’t say anything else, but his eyes seemed to study every detail of your new appearance.
As the moments passed, the murmurs and whispers surrounding you grew louder. The students who had formed the tight circle around Sunghoon were chattering amongst themselves, their voices filling the air. “I can’t believe he’s back,” one student whispered to their friend, their tone tinged with awe.
“What’s y/n doing with him,” another chimed in, their voice tinged with admiration.
Students around you exchanged looks. “I swear, they were practically inseparable back then. Do you think they’re still together?” one student whispered a little louder than intended, causing your ears to perk up.
You impulsively raised your hand, poking his shoulder without thinking. Realizing your action, you swiftly drew your hand back, blushing slightly in embarrassment. “S-sorry..” you muttered, looking away from him. You knew that this time, you weren’t dreaming.
Your sudden poke caused him to flinch, his gaze shifting to you. A brief flash of confusion flickered in his eyes before he replied, “No, it’s fine.” He seemed just as flustered as you were, his usually composed demeanor slipping for a moment.
Among the sea of murmurs and speculation, a bold voice rose above the rest. "Hey, are they still together?" a boy called out from the crowd, his comment drawing everyone's attention.
Sunghoon's eyes darted towards the source of the voice, a flicker of annoyance evident in his gaze. He remained silent, clearly not appreciative of the question being asked in front of others. He was usually more of the shy type, so he waited for you to talk.
You stammered slightly, replying, "I-I don’t... no, I don’t think so." Your words were softly spoken, your voice betraying a hint of uncertainty mixed with a touch of hesitation.
Your response seemed to catch him off guard, a slight furrow appearing on his brow. His expression mirrored the same uncertainty you were trying to convey. The onlookers around them seemed to shift their gazes between the two of you, anticipation hanging in the air.
It was clear that everyone around you was eagerly awaiting some sort of confirmation, hoping to get clarity on the current status of your relationship. Despite the pressure of the moment, neither of you spoke, the silence stretching out in the air.
As the silence dragged on, the murmurs in the crowd began to die down. One by one, the onlookers slowly dispersed, realizing there was no satisfying answer to their questions. The tension in the air eased ever so slightly as the curious eyes around you moved on to other matters.
The crowd gradually thinned out, leaving you and Sunghoon standing there, facing each other. The initial shock had worn off, replaced by a palpable awkwardness that hung heavy between you.
"So...," you began, your voice quivering with disbelief, still grappling with the reality of the situation. "Where have you been...?" Your voice shook as you voiced the question that had been burning in your mind since his disappearance.
A wave of guilt washed over his face, his eyes averting your gaze. He looked away as he answered, a tinge of shame in his voice, "I was... I was away, y/n."
His response was short, almost dismissive. It was clear that he didn't want to delve deeper into the subject.
Your tone shifted from disbelief to frustration, and you scoffed. "Well it’s pretty obvious you went away," you retorted, the words slipping out more forcefully than intended. "Why and where on earth did you vanish, Sunghoon? I was genuinely worried sick…" Your irritation and concern were evident as you spoke, emphasizing the gravity of his absence and the impact it had on you.
Sunghoon clenched his jaw, clearly uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was taking. His mind worked furiously, searching for a way to navigate this situation without revealing too much.
"I just... needed some space," he muttered under his breath, attempting to dismiss your concern with a half-answer.
Frustration bubbled up inside you, and you retorted sternly, "Some space? That's all you have to say after disappearing without a word for two year? You just needed space? You didn’t even bother to text me!”
The words stung as they left your mouth. You hadn't meant to be so blunt, but your pent-up frustration and lingering hurt had overwhelmed you.
He stared at you with a mixture of guilt and resignation, seemingly aware of the pain he had caused you.
Just as your heated exchange reached its peak, the sound of the bell broke through the atmosphere like a sharp alarm, signaling the end of break time. The shrill noise cut through the tension, reminding everyone of their impending classes.
Students around you began to scatter, hastening to their classes. They cast final lingering glances at you and Sunghoon before disappearing into various directions. The once lively spot emptied, leaving only the two of you behind.
As the last of the students hurried away, Sunghoon took advantage of the distraction. "I have class," he mumbled quickly, gesturing vaguely behind him. He was eager to escape the tense situation, and seizing the opportunity afforded by the bell ringing, he began to back away from you.
"Wait, Sunghoon—" you started, reaching out to grab his arm, but his pace had already quickened, and your fingers barely grazed his sleeve before he was out of reach.
—
You waited near the school gate, your eyes continuously scanning the crowded campus for any sign of him. Frustration gnawed at you as the clock ticked away, knowing that he had actively avoided you all day.
You released a weary sigh as you approached the table occupied by your popular “friends” and collapsed onto the seat beside Kazuha. She glanced at you and remarked with a teasing tone, "You look like you just crawled back from hell." Looking up, you saw her taking a bite out of her granola bar. "What's the matter?"
You groaned in response, feeling the exhaustion seeping into your bones. "Sunghoon’s back after disappearing on everyone for two years," you muttered, slumping in your seat. It had been a long day filled with frustration and disappointment, and the last thing you wanted to deal with was Kazuha's playful teasing.
Another girl, Chaewon, joined in the conversation and added, "I heard he's like, super hot now." Her comment carried a hint of curiosity and intrigue, implying that Sunghoon's appearance had undergone changes that had caught their attention.
The news of Sunghoon’s appearance change didn’t surprise you. After all, two years had passed since he vanished, and it made sense that he would have grown and matured during that time. Nevertheless, a pang of jealousy flared within you as your friends continued discussing his newfound attractiveness.
Kazuha's words hung in the air as she asked, "Wait, so you two aren't together anymore, right?" You shook your head in confirmation, signaling the end of your relationship with Sunghoon. "Okay, good because me and Kazuha were walking around the field earlier in the day, and it low-key seemed like he was making out with someone. It was like, very intense," Chaewon stated, her words laced with both concern and scandalized fascination.
Their revelation hit you like a wave of disappointment and confusion. It stung to hear that Sunghoon was involved with someone else so soon after his return.
The image of him making out with another girl haunted your mind, stirring up a mix of jealousy and sadness within you.
"He… He was making out with someone…?" you repeated, the words escaping your lips in a hushed whisper.
Both girls nodded their heads delicately, signaling their agreement and empathy. There was a hint of concern in Kazuha's voice as she remarked, "Kinda feel bad for you though. We know you loved him a lot." Their words carried a tinge of compassion, acknowledging your deep feelings for him.
Their understanding words seemed to offer little solace in the face of this new information. Even so, you appreciated their concern.
A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you tried to push past the emotional pain. "It’s fine," you murmured, attempting to hide the hurt behind a brave facade. "It’s been two years since we broke up. I’ve moved on."
Chaewon, however, expressed her disbelief with a scoff. She shook her head at the notion of you moving on and declared, "You? Moved on? Impossible!"
Her dismissive tone struck a nerve, making you bristle with annoyance. It was true that moving on was not something you had accomplished easily, but you didn’t appreciate your friend calling it impossible.
"I swear, you might as well still be together," she insisted, her words like a sharp poke to your sensitive nerve. "You don't just ‘move on’ from someone you fell in love with so quickly. It's been two years, but you still can't bring yourself to date anyone new."
A mixture of curiosity and jealousy coursed through your veins. Despite the pang of heartache, you couldn’t help but feel compelled to ask.
You turned to your friends and inquired, with a touch of hesitation, "Did that girl he was making out with... was she, you know, pretty?"
“Uh, I mean I guess she is,” Chaewon said, her tone full of sass. “But you’re definitely prettier.”
Kazuha hummed and nods her head in agreement. “And if he lost feelings for you, his loss.”
Their words were meant to be comforting, but they only deepened your sense of inadequacy. It felt like a painful reminder that despite how much you still cared for him, he had chosen someone else.
Their encouragement didn’t have the desired effect. Instead, it left you feeling more wounded and vulnerable.
A heavy sigh escaped your lips, and you sank further into your seat.
"Yeah, it’s his loss," you echoed, mustering a weak smile in response to their attempt to uplift you. But deep inside, the knowledge that he had moved on with another girl still stung like a fresh wound.
“Just guys being guys you know,” Chaewon scoffed, probably thinking back of an old ex of hers.
You knew all too well the nature of guys and their tendencies. Despite your past relationship with Sunghoon, the idea of him quickly moving on with someone else stung.
"Yeah, guys being guys," you murmured, trying to keep the bitterness out of your tone.
Days passed, and you tried to keep yourself occupied with classes, studying, and hanging out with your friends. However, no amount of distractions could erase the lingering thoughts of Sunghoon and the mysterious girl he had been making out with. The mystery girl was now always on your mind, and the thought of her ignited a fire of jealousy deep within you.
The days dragged on, each passing moment only intensifying your curiosity and resentment. You found yourself constantly picturing the girl in your mind, wondering what she looked like, what her laughter sounded like, and what qualities had drawn him towards her.
As the days progressed, your interactions with Sunghoon remained awkward and fleeting. Despite being in the same popular crowd, your paths seldom crossed. However, whenever your eyes did meet across the room or hallway, the tension in the air was tangible.
Despite your best efforts, it felt impossible to escape him. You found yourself constantly surrounded by reminders of him. In conversations with your friends, in whispers in the hallways, and even in the occasional glimpse of him in passing, it felt like he was always there, always invading your thoughts.
One day, Kazuha and Chaewon approached you as you organized your belongings in your locker. With a curious tone, Chaewon inquired, "You coming to the winter dance?" Her question invited your participation in the upcoming event.
You hesitated for a moment, your mind instantly going to the thought of Sunghoon being there. Despite your desire to avoid him, you couldn't deny that you were usually the center of attention at such events because of your popularity.
"I don't know," you replied, still contemplating whether to attend or not.
Kazuha continued in a pleading tone, "Come onnnnn," emphasizing her desire for your presence. She added, "I bet that mysterious girl Sunghoon made out with will be there. Or you can confront him right there and then!" Her words implied intrigue and the potential for confrontation or resolution at the upcoming dance.
The idea of confronting him and finding out more about his mysterious girl was tempting. Your curiosity continued to gnaw at you.
"I guess so..." you finally agreed, though your mind was still swirling with unresolved emotions and questions.
Their faces both lit up, indicating their satisfaction with your decision. Kazuha gave you a reassuring pat on the back, "Atta girl." Chaewon smirked, her eyes gleaming with anticipation for the drama that might unfold.
Kazuha raised a brow and inquired, "You have someone to go with though, right?" Her question confirmed your companion for the dance, expressing curiosity about your plans and the company you intended to keep.
The mention of a partner made you realize that you hadn’t considering bringing a date with you. Your mind began racing, contemplating who you could potentially bring.
"Uh, no... not yet," you admitted, somewhat embarrassed by your lack of plans in that regard.
Kazuha hummed at your answer at she looked like she was deep in her thoughts. “Okay well if Sunghoon potentially has a new girlfriend, you’re going to need a ‘boyfriend’ as well to make it equal to seek like you’re not still into him..”
A slight blush tinged your cheeks as you considered the idea of finding a “boyfriend” to even the playing field. The thought of pretending to be in a relationship with someone just to compete with Sunghoon was a bit embarrassing.
"I don’t know, it feels a bit… not authentic, you know?" you retorted, though there was a hint of curiosity in your tone.
“Okay..” Kazuha reponded. “Well you don’t need to *have* a boyfriend, you just need to make it seem like you do.. maybe like a pretend?”
Your eyebrows furrowed in thought, considering Kazuha’s suggestion. The idea of pretending to have a boyfriend for appearance sake was both intriguing and somewhat amusing.
"How exactly would that work?" you asked, a touch of skepticism in your voice.
“It’s simple. Just find a good looking guy to be your fake boyfriend and pretend you’re in love in front of Sunghoon.” Kazuha replied, her words tinged with confidence and a hint of mischief.
A mix of curiosity and hesitation brewed within you. The idea of having a fake relationship solely to play mind games with Sunghoon felt a bit manipulative.
"That feels kinda dishonest, don’t you think?" you remarked, wrestling with your conflicting emotions.
Chaewon couldn't hide her disbelief and frustration. With a dramatic roll of her eyes, she expressed disapproval at your apparent naïveté. "Seriously, you think it's okay that Sunghoon vanished without a trace for two years and now returns with a girlfriend? Wake up and face reality, y/n!" Her words were firm and tinged with disappointment.
Chaewon's sharp words pierced through your hesitation, awakening a spark of anger and defiance within you. It was difficult to deny the injustice of the situation, but your heart still yearned for a genuine connection.
"You don’t understand-" you began to protest, frustration seeping into your voice.
Chaewon grew more frustrated with your reluctance and added, "Y/n, you need to stop being so self-absorbed and go along with our plan. Don't you think you at least deserved an explanation from him after he ghosted everyone for two years?" Her sigh conveyed a mix of resignation and annoyance, emphasizing her frustration at your stubbornness.
The weight of her words hit you hard. Guilt and frustration collided within your thoughts—you couldn’t deny that you felt wronged by his disappearance. Chaewon made valid points, making it difficult to dismiss her perspective.
You bit your lip, the realization of the complexity sinking in.
"I guess you’re right... I do deserve an explanation," you conceded.
Chaewon crossed her arms, her expression shifting from annoyance to satisfaction at your eventual agreement. "So you’re in, right?" she asked, her tone tinged with a hint of victory, hoping for your full commitment to the plan.
you remained silent for a moment, wrestling with your lingering doubts. However, the desire for clarity and a sense of payback against Sunghoon overwhelmed your reservations.
Finally, you took a deep breath and nodded, "Okay, I’m in."
You had your sights set on a guy named Heeseung. Though he wasn't extremely popular, you had to admit he was quite attractive. With fair skin, dark hair, and a tall stature, he met all the physical criteria you sought. The only step left was convincing him to play the role of your fake boyfriend for a day at the winter dance.
Your mind raced with thoughts and questions as you mulled over how to approach the proposition to Heeseung. Despite already admitting the plan to Kazuha and Chaewon, doubts still gnawed at you.
Would he even agree to something so absurd? You wondered.
As you navigated the bustling hallway, you caught a glimpse of Heeseung through the crowd. The confidence and determination within you prompted your pursuit. With a subtle yet steady pace, you weaved through the sea of students until you found yourself standing before Heeseung, who had taken a pause to scroll through his phone.
"Heeseung," you called out, your voice projecting a mixture of nervousness and conviction.
Heeseung flinched slightly at the sound of his name, his attention snapping up from his phone. surprise etched across his face as he recognized you.
"Y/n?" His voice held a hint of question, probably wondering what prompted your sudden approach.
You could tell he was getting flustered around you; almost every guy in the university did. You took a brief moment to compose yourself before speaking, trying to mask the subtle tremors in your voice.
"Can I talk to you for a minute?" you asked, hoping he didn't detect the hint of desperation.
His eyes flickered with a mix of curiosity and trepidation, as if he sensed the seriousness of your request.
"Sure, what's up?" he replied, his voice tinged with caution.
You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts.
"So... I have a big favor to ask," you began, trying to sound casual despite the intensity of your request.
Heeseung raised his brows curiously, his attention fully on you.
"A favor?" he echoed, his tone laced with intrigue.
You swallowed hard, hoping he wouldn't dismiss your request outright.
"Yeah... I'm attending the winter dance, and I need a date..." you trailed off, anticipating how he would respond.
A hint of surprise flashed in his eyes as he registered your unexpected request.
"Oh, uh..." His voice wavered slightly, a subtle hint of uncertainty seeping through, before he composed himself. "Are you asking me?"
Your heart skipped a beat, both nervous and hopeful that he would agree. You nodded hesitantly, hoping he wouldn't reject you on the spot.
"Yes... I was wondering if you could be my date for the dance," you confessed, your voice laced with a mixture of anticipation and vulnerability.
He glanced away for a moment, seemingly mulling over your proposition. The silence felt like an eternity to you, your anxiety mounting with each passing second.
Finally, he met your gaze once more, his expression unreadable.
"Why me?" he finally questioned, his voice tinged with curiosity.
You'd anticipated this question, expecting a reasonable explanation would be necessary.
"Well, there are a few reasons," you began, trying to sound assured.
"First, we kind of know each other," you started, hoping to build a case based on familiarity, "And, uh, you're pretty decent-looking..." Your words spilled out awkwardly, your confidence faltering.
A faint blush colored his cheeks, but whether it was from the unexpected compliment or embarrassment, you couldn't tell.
"Okay, those are fair points... but there has to be more, right?" He raised a brow, skepticism evident in his tone.
As you scrambled for more substantial reasons, you remembered Chaewon's words.
"And, um, I need someone trustworthy to be my date," you added quickly, the lie leaving a bad taste in your mouth.
He raised a brow, clearly sensing the hidden agenda behind your response.
"Trustworthy? Why's that?" he probed further, seeking a more satisfying explanation.
You pleaded with Heeseung, imploring, "Just—just do this for me, please?" You managed to get the necessary words out of your mouth, though they left a bitter taste.
"I genuinely believe you're a handsome guy with a great personality, and I'd really love for you to be my partner at the dance..." The words felt foreign and contrived as they escaped your lips, causing an uncomfortable shiver to run down your spine.
Heeseung observed you with an intense gaze, studying your demeanor. He could sense something deeper at play, but whether he believed your explanation remained uncertain.
"Alright," he finally relented, though his voice held a hint of suspicion. "Fine, I'll be your date for the dance."
A mix of relief and anxiety washed over you as he agreed, though the undertone of doubt lingered in his tone. You forced a smile, attempting to disguise your discomfort.
"Thanks, Heeseung," you replied, managing to sound somewhat grateful despite the knot of guilt in your stomach.
“Wait—“ Heeseung spoke up as you turned to leave. “Are you asking me out solely for the dance, or is there something more to it?" His words hung in the air, seeking clarity about your intentions.
Caught off guard, you paused and turned back to face him, trying to maintain composure.
"Why would you think that?" you responded evasively, hoping he wouldn't delve deeper into your true motive.
Heeseung's face flushed with embarrassment as he hesitantly confessed, "I've liked you for quite some time, y/n." His words stumbled out adorably, revealing his hidden feelings.
Your eyes widened in surprise at his bold declaration. The confession caught you off guard, especially since you had assumed he was aware of your ulterior motives.
"You...like me?" The words left your lips in a mix of confusion and disbelief, wondering if you had heard him correctly.
Heeseung chuckled and responded to your question, "Isn't it obvious? Pretty much every guy here is into you." His tone carried a hint of amusement, as if acknowledging the apparent popularity you held among the male population.
Your cheeks flushed at his remark, realizing the truth in his words. Your popularity among the guys was no secret, but having it acknowledged so matter-of-factly left you slightly embarrassed.
You conceded, reluctantly agreeing, "I suppose it could be more than just a one-time thing..." Despite not truly feeling the same, you forced yourself to say the words, knowing it was an act.
He raised a brow skeptically, seemingly sensing your wavering conviction.
"That didn't sound very convincing," he pointed out, a subtle hint of accusation in his tone.
You insisted, "I promise I'm being honest." Perhaps getting to know Heeseung better could actually help you move on from Sunghoon. After all, he apparently had a new girlfriend now, so it was likely he had moved on as well.
He examined you, his gaze penetrating your facade. The skepticism remained evident in his expression, but he didn't push further, a hint of resignation in his voice.
"If you say so... I'll trust you."
You smiled and confirmed, "Great! So, Friday at 6?”
He nodded, still somewhat uncertain.
"Sure…" he agreed, his voice trailing off, unable to shake off the unease.
—
Over the past few days, you got Heeseung's contact info and occasionally chatted with him. He was funny and kind, reminding you of a less shy version of Sunghoon. Using this connection, you tried to distract yourself from thoughts of Sunghoon, and it seemed to be gradually working.
Time seemed to fly by with the newfound company. Despite Heeseung's playful and sometimes teasing demeanor, getting to know him became a pleasant distraction from your past and a glimmer of hope for the future.
Heeseung, being the playful flirt that he is, often slips in subtle compliments, saying things like, "Wow y/n, so pretty today huh?" He loves to catch you off guard with unexpected winks and playful banter, trying to get a reaction out of you. Whenever he has the chance, he'll poke fun at your cuteness, saying, "You're too adorable when you get flustered, you know that?"
Sunghoon had become somewhat more elusive to you, and the only times you caught a glimpse of him these days were in passing within the bustling university hallways or outside on campus grounds.
With each fleeting sight of him, a mix of emotions coursed through you, stirring an uncomfortable blend of nostalgia and pain, as if your past memories with him came flooding back in sharp clarity.
As the evening of the winter dance finally arrived, a mix of anticipation and unease stirred within you. The crowd buzzed with excitement, creating a vibrant atmosphere. The decorations were grand, the music was upbeat and energetic, and couples swarmed the dance floor, immersed in the festivities.
You held onto Heeseung's arm as you eagerly guided him toward your group of friends. Grinning, you introduced him to Kazuha and Chaewon, your closest companions. "Kazuha, Chaewon, meet Heeseung," you said cheerfully, turning towards him. Noticeably shy at first, Heeseung nodded a timid greeting before offering a soft smile in response.
Your friends observed him, seemingly intrigued by your choice of company.Chaewon's brow arched as she looked him up and down, giving him a once-over.
"So, Heeseung, huh?" she remarked, her tone hinting at curiosity.
Heeseung fidgeted a little under their gazes, somewhat intimidated but trying to maintain a casual demeanor. "Yeah, that's me," he replied, forcing a slight chuckle to lighten the tension.
Kazuha studied him for a moment, a small smirk playing at her lips.
"Nice to meet you," she said, her tone laced with an underlying layer of assessment.
He nodded, returning the greeting with an uneasy smile, still somewhat unsettled by your friend's scrutinizing gazes. You sensed his discomfort and squeezed his arm reassuringly, offering silent support.
You continued conversing with your friends and Heeseung, but you found yourself unable to shake the sensation of someone's gaze upon you. It wasn't unusual for you to receive attention, considering your popularity, yet this time, something felt distinct.
Subtly glancing around the room, your eyes caught sight of Sunghoon, staring at you with an expressionless face, calmly sipping what appeared to be alcohol. Their gazes briefly met until he averted his eyes just as quickly, returning his focus to his group of friends. Despite his apparent nonchalance, you could still sense his lingering stare fixated upon you.
As your gaze met Sunghoon's, a mix of emotions surged within you—hurt, confusion, maybe even a hint of longing. The sight of him, casually engaging with his friends, stirred old memories, and a pang of disappointment hit you when he quickly averted his gaze.
You tried to focus on the conversation with your friends, but the lingering intensity of Sunghoon's stare weighed heavily on you. You couldn't help but wonder what was going through his mind.
As the night progressed, the room seemed to grow hotter, the air heavy with unspoken tension. Despite your efforts to enjoy yourself with Heeseung and your friends, you couldn't shake off the sensation of Sunghoon's eyes following you.
Each time your gaze subtly grazed in his direction, his cold, emotionless stare met yours. It was as if he had an uncanny ability to find you in the crowd, always observing from afar.
As the night wore on and the crowd thinned, Kazuha and Chaewon excused themselves to meet their respective dates. Heeseung, taking notice of your situation, turned to you with a suggestion.
He leaned in slightly, his voice carrying over the noise, "I'm going to grab some drinks. Want something?"
You hesitated for a moment, considering the option.
"Yeah, sure," you replied, trying to sound casual. "Just be quick."
He nodded and turned to leave, leaving you standing alone for a moment. Your gaze lingered in the direction where Sunghoon was sitting, but he wasn’t there. His friends were still there, but he wasn’t..
Your mind wandered, wondering why he had left without explaining.
"Did he go to the bathroom?" you muttered to yourself, trying to brush off the sudden unease within you.
A few moments later, Heeseung returned with two plastic cups in hand, the clear liquid within glimmering under the dancing lights. He handed you one, his smile subtle yet warm.
Taking the cup from him, you thanked him. As you took a sip, the slight bitter taste of the alcohol hit your tastebuds, but it was smooth enough not to burn your throat.
With some more drinks, you found yourself feeling increasingly hazy and woozy. Heeseung seemed to be in the same state, his eyes heavy with intoxication. At that very moment, his appearance held a certain allure, exuding an almost irresistible kissable aura.
Heeseung's normally charming demeanor had now taken on a different aura, fueled by the intoxicating effects of the alcohol. His eyes, usually bright and expressive, now held a mysterious allure, leaving you captivated and drawn towards him. The alcohol seemed to elevate the chemistry between you, making all the senses heightened and creating an intense pull in the air.
Heeseung's movements became more fluid and relaxed, his inhibitions lowered by the influence of alcohol. His gaze locked onto you, his eyes half-lidded, a sultry smirk playing at the corners of his lips.
Heeseung's hand found its way to your waist, gently pulling you closer. Despite your slightly unsteady state, he managed to steady himself against a nearby wall. "You look good tonight," he whispered as he leaned in slightly, his voice holding a hint of huskiness.
The proximity of his body to yours sent a subtle shiver down your spine, the warmth of his touch igniting a spark of chemistry. Your mind felt a little hazy, the alcohol further blurring the lines of control.
As he leaned against the wall, pulling you closer, the words escaped his lips in a soft whisper. "So pretty tonight," he repeated, his voice carrying a hint of sensuality that sent a jolt through your core.
You couldn't help but blush, the mix of emotions and alcohol creating a confusing whirlwind of sensations. His hand tightened on your waist, a possessive gesture that sent a subtle shiver through your body. You met his gaze hesitantly, unsure of what to do next.
As Heeseung's gaze held yours, your inhibitions grew weaker. Your heart pounded in your chest, the alcohol in your system making you bolder. Unable to resist any longer, you leaned forward, closing the small distance between you. Your lips met his, a moment of undeniable chemistry igniting between you.
At first, Heeseung seemed surprised by your unexpected boldness, but he quickly reciprocated the kiss, his hand sliding to your lower back and pulling you closer against him. The air grew hotter, charged with a potent mix of desire and intoxication.
The intensity of the kiss left you breathless, but as soon as you came to your senses, guilt and regret flooded your mind. Your heart pounded with the realization of what you had just done. Without hesitation, you pulled back abruptly, breaking the heated moment.
The overwhelming guilt and the alcohol in your system made it difficult to think clearly, so without a word, you quickly pushed away from Heeseung and made a beeline toward the exit.
As you suddenly pulled away from the kiss, Heeseung, still somewhat intoxicated, tried to comprehend the sudden shift in tone. With a confused expression, he called out to you, his voice a mixture of concern and confusion.
"Hey, wait! Where are you going?" He tried to grab your wrist, attempting to prevent you from leaving.
The alcohol in his system impaired his coordination, and he stumbled a little as he grasped your wrist, trying to keep you from bolting. His grip was firm, a desperate attempt to keep you from running away.
But your mind was set on escape, the guilt and shame coursing through your veins. His hand around your wrist felt like a burning weight, a reminder of the mistake, you feared you had made.
With a pang of guilt and determination, you yanked your wrist away, breaking free from his grip and fleeing without a backward glance. You felt your heart racing at this new side of Heeseung you never knew.
Heeseung, still slightly intoxicated and stunned by your abrupt actions, was determined not to let you escape so easily.
Despite your attempt to break free, he didn't back down. Instead, he tightened his grip on your wrist and pulled you back toward him, pulling you into the nearest washroom.
In a sudden burst of passion, he locked the door, pressing you against the solid surface. "I—I shouldn't have kissed you..." you muttered timidly, apprehensively anticipating his reactions. "Do you know how long I've been yearning, craving for that to happen?" He responded, visibly confused and hurt by your words. "What do you mean you shouldn't have kissed me?"
There was a hint of desperation in his tone, his voice tinged with pain.
He continued, his grip on your wrist still strong, pinning you against the wall. "All this time I've been waiting, hoping, praying for a moment like that to happen. And now you say it was a mistake?"
Before you could even utter a word in response, Heeseung acted swiftly, grasping your wrists with a single hand and pinning them above you, his grip firm yet filled with desire. Without a moment's hesitation, he leaned in, kissing you harshly.
His actions were driven by a mix of desperation and passion, his kiss forceful and dominant. The taste of his lips was a potent mix of alcohol and lingering sweetness, a mixture that only seemed to fuel the intensity of the moment. He didn't let you withdraw, pressing himself against you, the wall serving as a solid barrier behind you.
Heeseung forcefully held onto your wrists, keeping you firmly in place. He then trailed kisses down your neck, using his other hand to cover your mouth, muffling any cries for help that might alert others. “You shouldn’t have done that y/n,” he chuckled against your ear. “Look what you’ve got yourself into.”
A shiver ran down your spine as his deep, husky voice murmured against your ear. The combination of his firm grip on your wrists, combined with his hand over your mouth, left you feeling both powerless and helpless.
The way he continued to nuzzle against your neck only heightened the intoxicating mixture of confusion and desire. His words cut through the haze, a reminder that your actions had consequences.
Heeseung continued to trail kisses down your neck, savoring your scent with every gentle press of his lips against your skin.
"You smell so good..." he murmured in between soft kisses, his voice filled with a mixture of admiration and yearning. “Let me guess, Prada?”
His breath was warm against your skin as he moved to the side, trailing his lips along your cheek. "it is, isn't it?" Heeseung's nose lingered near your collarbone, breathing in your scent deeply, as if trying to memorize it. “Looks like we have the same taste in brands too huh?”
You attempted to move your head away from him, but he only responded by putting more force on your writs, causing you to whimper in response. "Ah-ah y/n," he murmured, a hint of warning in his voice, "don't try to do that..."
Heeseung's tone was firm and authoritative, sending a chill down your spine. The strength in his grip on your wrists reinforced his dominant position, leaving you no choice but to submit to his will.
Suddenly, the sound of the unlock of the bathroom door echoed through the space, jarring both you and Heeseung out of the moment. Without hesitation, whoever opened the door barged into the washroom.
Under normal circumstances, any observer would likely assume your current situation to be two weirdos doing something kinky.
However, Sunghoon knew you well enough to understand your body language. He could recognize the fear etched upon your eyes, perceiving your expressions as genuine distress rather than simulated passion.
His gaze shifted towards your widened eyes and trembling lips, noticing the subtle hints of fear and desperation etched upon your face.
The sound of the door unlocking had shattered any illusion, and he knew instantly that this was not a consensual situation you were willingly participating in.
Heeseung, too occupied with his fixation on you, was oblivious to the sudden intrusion. His grip on your wrists remained firm, his lips still pressed against your neck, unaware that someone had walked in.
Without a moment's hesitation, Sunghoon yanked Heeseung away from you, his fingers firmly gripping the collar of Heeseung's shirt, pulling him away from your trembling form.
Heeseung stumbled slightly as he was forcibly pulled away, surprised by the sudden intervention.
His eyes widened as he met Sunghoon's gaze, a mix of annoyance and defiance in his expression. "What the hell are you doing?" He snapped, attempting to shake off Sunghoon's grip.
Sunghoon's grip on his collar tightened, his tone sharp as steel. "Get off of her," he growled, his eyes locking onto Heeseung's with a chilling intensity. "Now."
Heeseung responded with a snarl, his words dripping with resentment. "And why do you care? You abandoned everyone, including your girlfriend, for two whole years, and now you show up out of no where playing hero?"
Sunghoon's jaw clenched at Heeseung's accusation, but he didn't back down. "That doesn't change the fact that what you're doing right now is wrong," he retorted, his grip never loosening. "She's clearly uncomfortable, and you're still holding onto her. Let go."
Heeseung's stubborn attitude persisted, refusing to budge. He scoffed, his voice dripping with mockery. "And what makes you think you have a right to intervene? You were never there for her when she needed you."
Sunghoon clenched his jaw, the weight of Heeseung's words sinking in. "That's not the point," he replied through gritted teeth. "The point is that you're taking advantage of her right now, and I'm not going to just stand by and let that happen."
Despite Heeseung's reluctance to back down, Sunghoon's grip on Heeseung's collar grew firmer, his voice dripping with determination. "Let go, or I swear, I'll make you let go." As he spoke, the intensity in his eyes grew more pronounced, a clear warning that he was dead serious.
Heeseung, sensing the seriousness in Sunghoon's tone, reluctantly released his grip on your wrists, his grip loosening.
You could practically feel the tension in the air as Heeseung reluctantly let go, his grip slackening, and you breathed a sigh of relief. Your wrists were sore from his tight hold, and every nerve in your body felt raw.
Finally free from his grasp, you took a moment to compose yourself, your thoughts still a chaotic whirlwind of confusion and fear. However, the sight of Sunghoon standing there, having come to your rescue, stirred a mix of emotions within you.
Heeseung, feeling the weight of the situation, reluctantly released you, his grip loosening. Without a word of apology or explanation, Heeseung swiftly straightened his clothes and brushed past Sunghoon, walking out of the washroom without looking back.
You tried to say something, but Sunghoon left before you could speak. “Sunghoon, wait!” But he doesn’t. He just kept going. You were left wondering what had just happened. The air was heavy with uncertainty, leaving you feeling confused and full of unanswered questions.
As Sunghoon walked away, his footsteps fading in the distance, you stood there, feeling overwhelmed by the whirlwind of emotions coursing through you. The air hung heavy with uncertainty, and a million questions swirled through your mind. What had just transpired? Why did he simply walk away without saying a word?
You call a taxi back to your dorm, not being able to focus in your drunken state. The whole time you were focused on what just happened back in the washroom. Finally, you arrived home, kicking off your shoes as you slouched down on the couch. Pulling out your phone you see 3 missed calls from Kazuha. You sigh as you turn your phone off, hurrying your face into a pillow, screaming inside of it.
The silence of your room was heavy, the weight of your thoughts and the memory of the events of the night settling heavily upon you. You sank onto the couch, burying your face in a nearby pillow as you let out a stifled scream, desperately trying to release the pent-up emotions from the night.
The thought of calling Sunghoon has came up once or twice, but you never ended up doing so. You then wondered why you didn’t see his ‘girlfriend’ there with him. Maybe Kazuha and Chaewon saw someone else that looked like Sunghoon? That had to be it.
The questions continued to swirl in your mind, and the image of Sunghoon's expressionless face as he left the washroom haunted your thoughts. Why had he simply left without a word, leaving you standing there confused and overwhelmed?
Just as you doze off from your drunken state, you saw Sunghoon’s caller ID on your phone as it rang on the bedside table. You quickly sat up, unplugging your phone as you picked it up. “Hello??” You answered, a feeling of both worry and excitement creeping on you. “Sunghoon?”
Sunghoon, sounding weary yet relieved, answered in a hushed tone. "Y/n, finally, you picked up."
You heard low, heavy breaths on the line for a few moments before a deep voice responded, "y/n..." The words were slurred with a hint of intoxication, betraying his state of inebriation.
The realization that he was not completely sober sent a pang of disappointment through your chest. A part of you had hoped for a clear, sober conversation, but it seemed fate had other plans.
“Hello?? Sunghoon, are you okay?” You asked with worry. Did he get hurt? Was he in trouble? Was he finally going to tell you why he was gone for so long. No, he didn’t do any of that. “Y/n.. just, just keep talking for me..”
He sighed heavily into the phone, his voice tinged with a hint of desperation. "Just...please talk to me. I need to hear your voice."
Your heart skipped a beat at his words, a confusing mix of concern, relief, and a strange pang of longing coursing through you. Something about hearing his voice, even in its drunken state, stirred deep emotions within you. "Okay, Sunghoon," you replied softly, your voice tinged with a touch of resignation, "I'll keep talking."
Sunghoon let out a sigh of relief, his tone now tinged with vulnerability. "Okay..." He paused for a moment, heavy panting noises were heard before continuing. "I just...I need to hear you talk y/n."
His words hung in the air, almost as if he was seeking something more than just the sound of your voice. There was a vulnerability in his tone that tugged at your heartstrings. "Alright," you responded, your voice tinged with a hint of concern, "I'm here, I'm listening. What do you want me to say?"
The sound of a muffled groan reached your ears, followed by Sunghoon's request, his voice tinged with desperation, "Anything—just keep talking for me..."
The raw emotion in his voice, tinged with need, sent a shiver down your spine. You took a deep breath, feeling a strange mix of concern and confusion. What was happening? Why did he want to hear you talking so badly, especially in his state of inebriation?
Your concern and confusion blended together as you asked, "Sunghoon, what are you doing?" You moved to a sitting position on your bed, allowing your legs to dangle.
There was a moment of silence before he finally responded, his voice slurred with intoxication. "I just... I had a rough night, y/n. I needed to hear your voice, to know you're real."
The pieces quickly started to fall into place as you heard him swear under his breath, and his labored breaths grew even more labored. Suddenly, realization struck: you knew exactly what was happening on the other end of the call.
A mix of concern and embarrassment washed over you as you gradually understood the situation. It seemed like Sunghoon was in a vulnerable state, and hearing the strained sound of his breathing made everything clearer. "Sunghoon," you began softly, a twinge of worry in your voice, "Are you... are you alone right now?"
"Yeah, I'm alone…" he murmured lowly, heavy breaths still audible in the background. “Why?”
You took a second in to process what was going on before you finally answered him. “Are you..” you pause. Was it too risky? No, fuck it.
“Are you jerking off..?”
Sunghoon froze for a moment, the heavy breathing suddenly coming to an abrupt halt. You could almost sense the surprise and panic on the other end of the line, the silence growing thick with tension. After a brief pause, he finally responded, his voice strained, "I— uh… yes."
He didn't deny it or try to hide the truth, his response confirming your suspicion. The realization hit you like a ton of bricks, your mind swimming with confusion and conflicting emotions. What was he thinking? Why was he doing this? Why did he call you in the midst of such a personal moment?
His plea came through the line, his speech heavy with breathlessness, "Just—just keep talking for me, y/n..." The air of desperation was palpable in his tone, making it clear that he was engaged in something physical. “I’m so close, please…”
The words hit you like a punch to the gut, and you winced inwardly at his bluntness. The sounds of his breath and the desperate tone of his voice were hard to ignore. You felt a mixture of conflicting emotions, torn between concern, confusion, and a strange pang of sadness. "Sunghoon, I… I don’t understand," you finally managed to say, your own voice wavering. "Why are you asking me to talk to you while you… do that?"
The desperation in his voice intensified as he pleaded with you, his tone pleading, "Y/n, y/n please... please just keep talking for me, be a good girl and keep talking..."
The words stung like a burn, and you felt a strange mix of frustration and helplessness. Your concern for him was growing, and the conflicting feelings coursing through you added to your inner turmoil. "But, Sunghoon… I can't just sit here listening to this. This... it feels weird, and I don't know what to say," you replied, your voice shaking.
His voice became more commanding as he requested, "Tell me... tell me how much you missed me when I was gone, tell me y/n." The intensity in his tone indicated that he wanted, if not outright demanded, a specific response from you.
Your heart skipped a beat at the command in his voice, and a wave of uncertainty washed over you. Missing him wasn't the issue, but the request felt almost manipulative in this situation. "Sunghoon..." you began, your voice strained, "I can't just say it like that. It doesn't feel right. Don't do this to me right now."
“Y/n…” he groaned, almost wet slapping noise heard in the background now. “Do you want me to turn on my camera??”
The words hit you like a cold bucket of water, the sound in the background only adding to the intensity of the situation.
Alarm bells rang in your head, and you felt a surge of panic. "What? No, don’t do that!" You quickly responded, your voice laced with alarm and frustration. "Why are you even asking that? I don’t want to see—"
Too late.
Before you could finish your sentence and protest further, the sound of a call request beeped on your phone, his name appearing at the top. Your heart leaped into your throat as your suspicion was confirmed—he was requesting a video call.
Your mind raced, torn between the feeling of not wanting to see what was happening and the lingering curiosity, possibly concern for what he was doing to himself. With a trembling hand, you hesitated before finally accepting the call, the screen filling with his image.
The sight of him on your screen was a shock. He was shirtless, his chest heaving heavily, his body exposed and vulnerable. The sight made your heart skip a beat, and you felt a pang of mixed emotions. He was sweating, biting his lip, his eyes filled with a strange mixture of lust and desperation.
“Oh shit,” he muttered under his breath, realizing the camera was focused on him, not what he wanted you to see, so he flips the camera.
There were no words to describe the wave of conflicting emotions coursing through you as the camera flipped around. You could only watch, heart pounding, as he adjusted the angle, revealing a perspective that made your stomach twist with unease. You swallowed hard, unsure of what to say or do as the reality of the situation sunk in even deeper.
His veiny throbbing manhood was leaking with pre-cum as he used one hand to stroke it up and down as the other one is used to hold the camera. “Y/n, keep talking for me..” he pleaded in a low raspy tone. “Please..”
“I… I don’t know what to say,” you stammered, your mind racing, struggling to process the visual unfolding before you on the screen. The sight was both shocking and overwhelming, and you felt lost for words.
The desperation in Sunghoon’s voice was palpable, his plea hanging in the air, and your heart ached with conflicting emotions. "Please, y/n," he begged once more, "Just keep talking to me."
Each breath you took was heavy, and the words stuck in your throat. The mixture of concern and confusion warred within you, leaving you speechless. How did you end up in this situation? Why were you even on the phone with him, witnessing this intimate moment?
Your eyes darted between the screen and your own hands, feeling helpless and overwhelmed. "Sunghoon," you finally managed to speak, your voice trembling, "Why are you doing this? Why did you ask me to talk to you while… while you're… doing this?"
The plea in your voice was evident, the raw mix of emotions seeping through. "Please, y/n, just keep talking… I need you right now," Sunghoon urged, his voice heavy with vulnerability and desperation.
He repeated the question once again, his words tinged with a sense of insistence, "Are you looking? Looking?" followed by clarification, "Looking at your screen, at what my camera is focused on y/n."
You swallowed, feeling trapped, your heart racing. The command in his tone was undeniable, and you couldn't help but glance at the screen hesitantly. "Yes," you breathed out shakily, your voice barely above a whisper, "Yes, I'm looking."
His voice shifted, taking on a more possessive tone as he murmured, "Good girl, now keep talking for me..." The intensity in his words increased further as it was evident that his hand moved faster.
Your breath hitched in your throat, the situation escalating unexpectedly. The mixture of conflicting emotions was overwhelming, and your mind reeled with confusion. Hearing the words “good girl” made your stomach flutter, and the intensity in his voice sent a shiver down your spine.
You couldn't deny him your voice, no matter how strange and uncomfortable this felt. "Okay," you replied, your voice strained, "I'll keep talking for you."
His voice turned demanding once again, his tone dripping with need, "Tell me how you felt when I was gone, tell me how much you missed me." With each word, the yearning in his voice deepened.
The request felt both intimate and manipulative, but you knew you couldn’t deny it completely. You took a breath before finally responding, your voice tinged with vulnerability.
"Sunghoon…" you hesitated, the words catching in your throat for a moment before continuing. "When you were gone, I missed you… a lot. I missed your presence. I missed talking to you, hanging out with you… I missed you."
As you recalled the weight of his absence, the memories flooded your mind. "I could never forget how much pain I went through when you disappeared without a word," you admitted softly, "And now you're back, and it's like all the old feelings are coming back..."
He suddenly broke the heated atmosphere, his voice tinged with remorse as he apologized, "God I'm so sorry y/n." The words were heavy with regret, his breath growing heavier with each moment, each syllable tinged with a hint of desperation. "I—I didn’t know what to do..." His confession hung in the air as he continued to stroke his huge throbbing member.
The pain in his voice tugged at your heartstrings, but his words left you confused. "What do you mean… you didn’t know what to do?" you asked, your voice laced with a mix of concern and curiosity.
"I—I didn't know how to handle my feelings for you... When I left," he stammered, his voice quivering with vulnerability. "I was scared. Scared of messing up, scared of hurting you. So I pushed you away, thinking it was the best thing to do."
“F-fuck,” he muttered, quickening his pace. “Please y/n, I’m so fucking close, keep talking for me yeah?”
The pleading in his voice sent a shiver down your spine. It was a strange mix of feelings—a knot in your stomach, confusion, and somehow, a sense of being needed.
"Okay," you murmured, your voice soft and reluctant yet tinged with a hint of submission. "I'll keep talking for you... If that's what you want."
As you continued to watch him please himself, you felt a tingling sensation, bucking your hips up a bit as you let out a quiet whimper. Sunghoon chuckled at your noise. “Are you turned on y/n?”
The question caught you off guard, and you felt an odd mixture of embarrassment and excitement. "W-what?" you stammered, "No, I'm just... I'm just..." You paused, caught in your own reaction, torn between wanting to deny and wanting to admit the truth.
The smirk on his face grew wider as he realized the effect he was having on you. "Say it, y/n," he commanded with a hint of dominance in his tone. "Don't deny it."
Your body responded involuntarily to his words, making it harder to deny. A small whimper escaped from you again, betraying your attempts at denial. "I..." Your voice trailed off, your body shifting restlessly on the bed, a mix of conflicting feelings coursing through you.
He chuckled softly at your response, the sound both smug and seductive. "That's right," he murmured, his voice filled with a hint of satisfaction. "Admit it. You're turned on by watching your ex jerk himself off by your voice, aren't you?
The admission made your face heat up, but there was no denying the truth. "Yes," you confessed in a hushed tone, your voice barely audible, "I am."
The mixture of embarrassment and arousal was overwhelming, and you couldn't deny the effect his presence had on you, no matter how confusing it felt. You then slowly proceeded to slide a hand inside your shorts, moving aside your panties as you started to touch yourself, letting out a loud whimper.
“God y/n,” Sunghoon groaned loudly. “You’re such a slut.” The words hit you like a punch to the gut, but they also sent a wave of guilt through you as a mixture of conflicting emotions coursed through your veins.
“S-sunghoon..” you whined, inserting a finger into your cunt as you thrusted at a quick pace.
Sunghoon's voice took on a teasing lilt as he chuckled and inquired, "Yeah y/n? What is it, what's wrong?" Despite his apparent amusement, there was a hint of concern hidden beneath his words, as if he sensed your unease.
The mixture of the teasing tone and hints of concern added to your confusion. "It’s just… I don’t know if… if we should be doing this," you muttered in between breaths, your conflicting emotions making it difficult to voice your concerns clearly.
“Do you miss it?”
“Miss what?”
“What do miss what you’re looking at right now?”
His question caught you off guard, your mind scrambling for an answer. "I—I miss… your touch," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper, "I miss the way you would make me feel with your hands, your lips, your body, your cock…" The guilt gnawed at you, but you couldn’t deny the truth.
A low growl escaped his lips, and he muttered, "Oh god..." The intensity in his voice was palpable as his breathing continued to grow increasingly heavy. “Y/n- y/n m’ cuming—“
Your heart pounded as you heard his words, the mixture of anticipation and guilt still swirling inside you. "Wait, wait," you protested, "Not now, not on camera, please–"
Suddenly, a gush of white liquid squirted out of his cock as it spilt everywhere, a deep loud moan being let out afterwards. You felt yourself getting close sooner than later, adding another finger inside your hole. “S-Sunghoon!” You whimpered, arching your back to the heated sensation.
Sunghoon's breath was heavy and ragged, his chest heaving as he tried to regain composure. A mix of satisfaction and something else lingered in his eyes, the intensity of his gaze still palpable despite the aftermath.
"Y/n..." he murmured, his voice carrying a hint of surprise and a touch of something else. "Show me what you’re doing, turn on your camera sweetie."
You froze, caught between compliance and hesitation. The demand felt like a crossroad, uncertainty and excitement coursing through your veins. But there was curiosity too.
"Come on," he urged softly, his voice almost like a gentle command. "Let me how you’re pleasing yourself to my voice."
The words echoed in your mind, igniting a mixture of desire and vulnerability. You hesitated for a moment, the weight of the request heavy on your heart. But slowly, you found yourself drawn in by the allure of his voice, the temptation of obedience growing stronger with each passing second.
"Don't be shy, y/n," he urged gently, "I want to see how much you miss my touch. Show me."
In the face of his insistence, the last remnants of your resistance wavered. Biting your lip, you slowly reached for the camera, your hands trembling with a mix of anticipation and trepidation.
“Only two fingers y/n?” Sunghoon scoffed, a clear offence in his tone. “Come on, you know I’m bigger than that.”
Your eyebrows furrowed in response. "I know!" you snapped. "I...I can't...I'm trying..." the rest of the words dying in your throat.
His voice turned more domineering as he instructed with a hint of authority, "Put another finger in..." The words left his lips with a subtle demand, as if seeking explicit obedience from you.
Reluctance danced in your eyes, but a part of you couldn't help but react to his tone. Without wanting to, your body responded, submitting to the authority in his voice.
"That's right." He encouraged, a sense of satisfaction and ownership lacing his tone. "That's it, y/n."
The words both grated and excited you. There was a strange sense of satisfaction in obeying, but it only fueled the conflict in your mind. "Sunghoon...I—Im cumming, oh god Sunghoon, I’m so close!" You were torn between seeking release and questioning if this was the right path to take.
"Good girl." He murmured with satisfaction, his voice filled with a mixture of possessiveness and encouragement. "Give it to me. Don't hold back."
The words left you breathless, a mix of frustration and arousal coursing through your veins. You felt both empowered and vulnerable, surrendering to his command yet fighting against the overwhelming rush of sensations coursing through your body.
After what felt like an eternity, you felt yourself reach your climax, your lungs gasping for oxygen as you pull your coaxed fingers out.
Your body trembled with the aftermath, beads of sweat trickling down your forehead. The air was thick with a mix of satisfaction and uncertainty. A heavy silence hung between you both, the weight of the moment palpable in the air.
Sunghoon observed you quietly, his eyes roaming over your disheveled form. There was a hint of a satisfied smile playing at the corners of his lips, but it was tinged with a trace of concern. "Are you okay, y/n?" He finally asked, his voice soft and laced with a hint of genuine care.
You took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and satisfaction coursing through your veins. "Yeah," you manage to reply, your voice shaky but laced with a hint of vulnerability, "I think so..."
His words were slurred, a consequence of his intoxication, as he offered a simple, "That’s good y/n." There was a hint of detachment in his tone, suggesting that his judgment was clouded by the effects of alcohol. You couldn’t help but recall your own inebriated state.
A pang of guilt washed over you as you considered both your and his altered states, a nagging feeling of regret settling in. The situation had spiraled out of control, fueled by alcohol and clouded judgment.
You were left hanging once again, the call abruptly ending without explanation. "Great," you thought, feeling frustrated at the abrupt cutoff. The silence that followed was deafening, leaving you with more questions than answers.
You sat there, confused and frustrated, the silence heavy in the air. The sudden disconnect from Sunghoon left you feeling a mix of confusion and irritation after what he just did, after what he showed you. Your thoughts swirled with unanswered questions, the sudden end of the call leaving you with a sense of ambiguity.
You couldn't help but wonder why he had ended the call so abruptly, leaving you hanging without a proper explanation. Questions flooded your mind, and uncertainty gnawed at your core. What had possessed him to do what he did? Was it just the influence of alcohol and his lingering feelings for you? Or was there more to this than what it seemed? You sighed as you put your shorts back on, pulling the covers over your body. You’d just have to wait and confront him the next day at campus.
—
You found yourself anxiously entering the campus the next day, your heart pounding in anticipation of seeing him. Throughout the night, you had replayed the events of the previous evening in your mind countless times, wrestling with conflicting emotions. On one hand, you were upset by his actions and the unexpected ending of the call. On the other hand, you couldn't deny the complex mixture of arousal, nostalgia, and longing that had stirred within you.
Every step you took brought you closer to the possibility of encountering him, the idea both thrilling and nerve-wracking. As you navigated the bustling campus, your eyes scanned every corner and hallway, searching for a glimpse of him. Your mind churned with questions, wondering how he would react when he saw you, if he would act as if nothing had happened or if he would acknowledge it.
You spotted Kazuha and Chaewon, seated on a nearby bench. You approached them, wanting to inquire if they had glimpsed any sign of him around.
As you drew closer to the two, you saw Kazuha noticing you, her eyes lighting up with recognition. She nudged Chaewon, who turned towards you as well. A mixture of curiosity and excitement danced in their eyes.
"Hey y/n!" They greeted you with playful smiles, their voices carrying across the space between you. "What's up? You look lost in thought." Kazuha teased, her eyes twinkling with amusement.
You smiled back, feeling a sense of familiarity in their presence. "Hey guys," you replied, glancing between them. "Have either of you seen Sunghoon around? I need to talk to him."
They exchanged puzzled glances before Chaewon spoke up, "I thought you were over him... Something come up?" Her question was laced with curiosity and concern, as if she sensed a change in your feelings or situation.
You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to respond. "It's complicated," you admitted, your voice tinged with a mix of uncertainty and vulnerability. "We had a... weird encounter last night." As the words left your lips, you couldn't help but feel a knot tighten in your stomach.
Kazuha and Chaewon exchanged another glance, their curiosity deepening. They could tell that whatever had happened between you and Sunghoon had left you in a state of turmoil. "A weird encounter?" Kazuha prodded gently, her voice laced with genuine concern.
You responded with mild irritation, "Just—tell me if you saw him today." Although you tried to mask it with a casual tone, the underlying anxiousness in your voice was apparent.
The girls seemed to pick up on the tension in your voice. Kazuha replied after a brief pause, her tone cautious, "We did see him earlier. He was heading towards the library, I think."
Chaewon chimed in, "Yeah, he looked like he was in a bit of a rush though. Maybe he's busy studying or something?"
“Or maybe he’s spending time with that girl he made out with a few days ago..” Kazuha added in a teasing tone.
Your heart sank at the reminder, but you couldn't let your emotions show. "Right," you responded dryly, trying to maintain a facade of nonchalance. "Thanks for the info, I'll go check the library then."
The girls exchanged a knowing glance, sensing the hint of disappointment in your voice, but they didn't press further. "Sure, no problem," Chaewon replied, her tone softening. "Good luck."
You nodded in appreciation before turning and heading towards the library, your mind racing with mixed feelings. The image of him with that other girl resurfaced, stirring up a blend of jealousy and resignation.
As you made your way through the campus, your mind drifted between the desire to confront him and the fear of discovering a painful truth. The walk to the library felt longer than usual, each step weighed down by the uncertainty brewing within you.
The library loomed in the distance, its imposing structure a symbol of knowledge and tranquility. However, today it felt like a place of reckoning, where the truth might reveal itself. Your heart pounded in anticipation, the conflicting emotions raging within you as you pushed open the door and stepped inside.
The quiet surroundings engulfed you as you entered the library. The scent of books and silence hung heavily in the air. Your eyes scanned the aisles, searching through the labyrinth of shelves for any sign of him. The silence was broken only by the occasional rustling of pages and soft whispers from fellow students studying.
You moved through the rows of books, your footsteps muffled by the carpet. Each step brought you closer to the possibility of encountering him, and your mind raced with questions. Was he alone? Was he with that girl? Would he be willing to talk?
Your gaze followed the direction of your friends' glances, finding him sitting beside a girl who was quite attractive. The sight of his genuine smile didn't go unnoticed by you, leaving a subtle pang of jealousy in your chest.
You watched from a distance, observing their interaction from afar. Sunghoon looked relaxed and at ease next to her, a genuine smile gracing his lips. The sight of their connection stirred up a mix of feelings within you: jealousy, curiosity, and a hint of disappointment.
The girl was not only beautiful but seemed to effortlessly draw Sunghoon's attention, her every movement capturing his gaze. The laughter that occasionally escaped them added to your unease, each moment making the knot in your stomach grow tighter.
Why was it that every time you tried to move on, it didn’t work? He left you without an explanation, said that he ‘didn’t know what to do,’ and then last night.. last night is something you didn’t ever want to think about at this point.
You couldn't deny the conflicting emotions swirling within you. The mixture of resentment, betrayal, and lingering feelings had left an ache in your chest. Seeing him so comfortable with someone new only amplified the intensity of those emotions.
As you continued to observe, a mix of conflicting emotions flooded your mind. The sight of him laughing and talking effortlessly with the other girl stirred up old feelings of resentment and betrayal. The pang of jealousy intertwined with a hint of disappointment, and the more you watched, the tighter the knot in your stomach twisted.
A part of you yearned for the days when you shared moments like that, when his laughter was reserved only for you. The sight of him finding happiness with someone else felt like a painful reminder of what was lost.
Before your thoughts could spiral any further, something caught your attention. Sunghoon suddenly stood up from his seat, his expression shifting as if sensing your presence.
Your heart skipped a beat as his gaze met yours, a mixture of surprise and wariness crossing his features. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as you both locked eyes across the library.
There was a tense silence between you, the weight of your shared history and unspoken words hanging in the air. Sunghoon's gaze lingered on yours for a few moments longer before he slowly turned and walked towards you.
With each step he took, your heart pounded louder in your chest, the anticipation mingling with a hint of anxiety within you. The sound of his footsteps echoed through the quiet library as he approached you, his expression still guarded.
As he finally stood before you, there was a hesitant pause, an air of uncertainty hanging between you. "Y/n," he finally spoke, his voice tinged with a mix of nostalgia and trepidation.
The sound of your name on his lips sent a pang through your heart, stirring up memories from past times. You could feel the weight of his words, the weight of the history that laid between you.
"Can we talk?" he continued, his gaze searching yours for any hint of your feelings. "In private, please."
A scoff escaped your lips as you concluded, "I think I already know what’s going on," indicating your suspicion over the situation. Without another word, you turned and started walking away, leaving behind your friends and the lingering uncertainty.
Sunghoon watched you walk away, a flicker of surprise crossing his face as you left without giving him a chance to explain. He hesitated for a brief moment, then swiftly turned to follow after you, determined to catch up.
As he caught up to you, he walked alongside you in a hurry, his steps quickening to match your pace. "Y/n... wait," he pleaded, his voice tinged with urgency. "Please, let me explain."
“Explain what Sunghoon?” you snapped as your eyes widened. "Explain that you disappear on me for two years, make out with a random girl, save me from Heeseung at the party, call me to listen to my voice so you can get off, and then go back to another girl right afterwards?" Your words hung heavily in the air, leaving him stunned, speechless for a brief moment.
Sunghoon was momentarily caught off guard by your outburst, his brows furrowed in confusion. "Wait, what girl?" He repeated, a hint of bewilderment in his voice.
"The girl that Chaewon and Kazuha saw you making out with a few days ago near campus!" Your words were laced with anger and betrayal, as the memory of his intimate encounter with someone else still stung your heart.
Sunghoon raised an eyebrow in confusion, responding, "What?? I never made out with a girl??" His denial carried a hint of disbelief, as if he couldn’t reconcile your accusation with reality. "You know Kazuha and Chaewon aren’t your real friends, they’re just using you." His words held a warning tone, as if trying to open your eyes to something you had been oblivious to.
Your heart sank at his denial, the conflicting emotions swirling within you. You wanted to believe him, but the image of him with that girl still haunted you. "Why would they lie about something like that?" you questioned, your voice tinged with skepticism and hurt.
Sunghoon sighed, his expression softening as he looked at you directly. "Because they want to cause trouble," he explained, his voice laced with sincerity. "They know our history and they want to stir up jealousy."
Your uncertainty remained evident as you responded, "Okay... But then who's that girl over there?" You pointed out the girl he had been seated with, your gaze full of suspicion and curiosity.
Sunghoon followed your gaze before realization dawned on his face. "Oh, that's my cousin." He clarified, his tone a mix of understanding and surprise. "We were catching up, nothing more, nothing less."
A sigh of relief escaped your lips, feeling somewhat reassured that Sunghoon wasn’t involved with the girl. Your voice turned shy and vulnerable as you asked, "Why'd you hang up yesterday night?" The question lingered in the air, seeking an explanation for his abrupt departure.
Sunghoon hesitated for a moment, his gaze dropping to the ground before meeting yours once more. His tone was tinged with remorse, his voice softer than before. "I... I didn’t want to take advantage of you while you were drunk," he admitted, his eyes searching yours hopefully for understanding.
You posed a straightforward question, seeking clarity, "So then why did you call me? Why’d you—you know…" The direct inquiry hung in the air, demanding a candid answer.
His gaze held a mixture of guilt and vulnerability as he replied, "Because I missed you... I missed your voice more than anything else. I wanted to hear it, to feel close to you even if it was just for a moment." There was sincerity in his tone, a hint of longing in his words.
You desperately wanted to believe his explanation, but the weight of his absence and avoidance for two years weighed heavily on your mind. Your words held a mixture of hurt and skepticism, "But you left for two years and were avoiding me the first couple of days..." Your statement bore the marks of lingering pain, reflecting your lingering doubts about his intentions.
Sunghoon flinched, the weight of your words clearly affecting him. He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture laced with frustration and impatience. "Yes, I was avoiding you," he confessed, his voice tinged with a touch of defensiveness. "because I was terrified of losing control if I saw you again."
The librarian, a stern and strict-looking woman, walked up to them, her eyebrow raised in irritation. "Excuse me, but you two are causing a commotion," she scolded, her voice stern and unwavering. "If you don't quiet down, I'll have to ask you to leave."
Sunghoon nodded, acknowledging the librarian's concerns. "Sorry, ma'am, we'll keep it down," he assured, his tone apologetic. He glanced at you, a silent plea in his eyes for you to comply.
You could sense the urgency in Sunghoon's gaze, his silent plea for calm and compliance. Reluctantly, you swallowed your retort and nodded. "Sorry," you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper.
The librarian's stern expression softened slightly, seemingly satisfied with their response. "Good," she nodded, then glanced around the library, noticing the curious onlookers. "Now, please keep it low, or find someplace else to talk." With that final warning, she returned to her desk, resuming her watchful gaze over the library.
Sunghoon gave you a sidelong glance, a hint of amusement tugging at the corners of his lips. "Seems we've attracted some unwanted attention," he remarked quietly, the slightest hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.
Your voice shook with anger and vulnerability as you protested, "This is not something you can just joke about, Sunghoon.” The pain and frustration were evident in your tone, indicating that his actions had deeply stung your trust.
His smirk faded as he caught the anger and hurt in your voice, realizing the weight of his actions. "I didn't mean it like that," he insisted, his tone softer. "I'm just trying to lighten the mood."
You felt conflicted. On one hand, you were still angry and hurt by his disappearance. On the other hand, his attempt to make light of the situation stirred up conflicting feelings within you. He always had a way of making you simultaneously frustrated and drawn to him.
Sunghoon glanced at the library, noting the watchful eye of the librarian. He knew they wouldn't get a chance to fully talk there without drawing more attention, so he suggested an alternative. "We can't talk here," he stated quietly, his gaze meeting yours. "Why don't you come over to my place?"
A subtle flush of embarrassment crossed your cheeks at his suggestion, the implication of being at his place causing a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. "Your...place?" you questioned, a hint of hesitation in your voice.
His response carried a hint of mockery as he retorted, "What? You’ve been there multiple times."
Your cheeks reddened even more at his remark, the memory of your past visits flooding your thoughts. "I know that," you stuttered, your voice betraying your flustered state. "But that was back then."
A smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, realizing his words had flustered you. "So what? You scared?" he teased, his tone dripping with a hint of playful challenge.
Your eyes narrowed at him, a mixture of annoyance and stubbornness etched across your features. "I’m not scared," you retorted, your voice laced with defiance. "Let’s just go, I don’t have all day."
Sunghoon chuckled, amused by your stubborn attitude. "Okay, tough girl," he teased, falling into step next to you as you headed towards the exit.
The cool air hit your skin as you stepped outside, the sunlight casting a warm glow across the campus. As you walked beside Sunghoon, a mix of emotions swirled inside of you.
There was a faint sense of anxiety, curiosity, nostalgia, and even a hint of excitement at the possibility of getting some answers. The silence between you felt both comfortable and awkward, as if both of you were navigating through uncharted territory once more.
The walk to his place felt both familiar and foreign at the same time. The route, once well-known, now seemed slightly altered, as if time had altered the landscape of the memories that surrounded it.
You tried to push away the thoughts, focusing on the present, yet the weight of the past continued to linger in the air, an invisible presence that followed you both.
As you approached his building, memories flooded your mind—the countless times you had come here, the laughter shared and secrets whispered beneath the roof of his apartment. It was as if the walls held the echo of your shared history, waiting to be stirred by your presence once more.
Sunghoon held the door open for you, gesturing for you to enter first. With a hesitant nod, you stepped inside, finding yourself surrounded by the familiar scent and atmosphere of his place.
The faint aroma of his cologne and the warmth of familiarity engulfed you, stirring up a mix of nostalgia and anticipation.
As you entered the living room, a palpable silence filled the air. It felt as if the room itself held its breath, suspended in the tension between the past and the present.
Sunghoon's footsteps echoed softly as he closed the door behind you, sealing the two of you inside. The sound seemed to amplify the gravity of the moment, the weight of unspoken words and unresolved emotions almost tangible.
You stood there, taking in the quietude, the air between you heavy with anticipation and uncertainty.
The silence stretched on, filling the void with unspoken questions and lingering memories. Sunghoon broke the quiet first, his voice soft and hesitant as he finally spoke. "Wanna have a seat?"
You nodded, your own voice barely perceptible. The room seemed to shrink around you as you followed his gesture, perching yourself on the couch adjacent to the one he chose.
The cushions dipped under your weight, a subtle reminder of the countless moments of comfort shared between you.
As you settled onto the couch, a wave of memories washed over you. The worn fabric, the familiar indentations in the cushions—it felt like time had slipped away, leaving behind echoes of laughter, quiet conversations, and moments of intimacy. You tried to shake off the nostalgia, clearing your throat as you stole a glance at Sunghoon, sitting across from you.
The silence thickened once more, and you could feel his gaze on you. The air felt charged with tension, the weight of the unsaid words and lingering emotions hanging in the space between you. You took a deep breath, mustering the courage to break the silence, but before you could speak, Sunghoon's voice cut through, tinged with a hint of vulnerability. "Can I ask you something?"
Your heart skipped a beat at the vulnerability in his voice, the familiar sound stirring memories you thought you had buried deep within. You swallowed hard, nodding slightly, though you braced yourself for whatever question he was about to ask.
Sunghoon paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts, before finally posing the question that hung heavily in the air. "Do you hate me?" He asked, his voice tinged with a hint of insecurity.
The question struck a nerve, causing a pang of guilt to wash over you. You felt a mixture of defiance and vulnerability rise within you as you replied, your voice laced with a hint of defensiveness. "No. Not Really. What you did was still wrong though. Why? Have I not made that clear to you already? You disappeared for two years, Sunghoon. Two years." Your voice trembled, the pain of his absence evident in your tone.
Sunghoon nodded, his expression tinged with remorse. "I know," he admitted, his voice soft and sincere. "I messed up, big time. I was scared, confused, and I thought disappearing was the easiest way to deal with it at the time." He paused, his eyes locking onto yours, a silent plea for understanding etched across his features.
Your heart softened at his words, a pang of mixed emotions coursing through you. You wanted to be angry, but you couldn't deny the sincerity in his voice. With a sigh, you shifted in your seat, your defenses slowly starting to crumble. "Why were you so scared, then?" You asked, curiosity mixing with the remnants of bitterness in your voice.
Sunghoon ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture that revealed his vulnerability. "Because I didn't know if I could control myself around you," he confessed, his voice dropping lower. "I knew how much I still cared about you, how strong my feelings still were. I was terrified that if I saw you again, I would lose control—lose my resolve."
Your heart wrenched at his confession. A mixture of relief and confusion swirled within you. His words both validated and stirred up old emotions. You swallowed hard, trying to steady your voice as you spoke. "And what about now?" You asked, your voice trembling. "How do you feel now?"
Sunghoon's gaze locked onto yours, his eyes glimmering with sincerity. "I still feel the same way," he admitted, his voice steady yet tinged with vulnerability. "I never stopped caring, never stopped loving you."
You clenched your teeth, frustrated by the emotions swirling within you. "Then why?" You voiced, your tone tinged with a touch of desperation. "Why come back after two years? Why now, Sunghoon?"
Sunghoon tensed, his shoulders visibly stiffening at your question. He could sense the vulnerability in your voice, the desperation for an answer, and it weighed on him.
He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "I came back because I couldn't stay away any longer," he admitted, his voice tinged with remorse. "Being away from you... it was killing me. Seeing you from afar, knowing I could never truly be with you, it broke something inside of me."
You clenched your fists, a mix of pain and frustration rising within you. "Where did you go, Sunghoon?" You asked, your voice trembling. "Where did you disappear to for two years?"
Sunghoon flinched at your question, the weight of it hitting him hard. He could hear the pain in your voice, the desperation for answers. He took a deep breath before finally responding, his voice laced with a mix of guilt and vulnerability. "I went back to Korea."
Your heart skipped a beat, confusion and anger swirling within you. Korea? How could he just up and leave like that, disappear without a word, and then simply return as if nothing had happened?
Your voice trembled as you spoke, the hurt seeping through every word. "Why?" You pushed further. "Why Korea? Why did you choose to flee without a trace?"
Sunghoon ran a hand through his hair again, a nervous gesture that revealed his inner turmoil. His eyes seemed to search for the right words as he spoke, his voice filled with a mix of regret and vulnerability.
"I... I panicked, y/n," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "I was terrified of losing control, of the feelings I still had for you. I thought if I left, it would be easier..."
Your heart ached at his confession, a mix of hurt and confusion swirling within you. You tried to force back the tears that threatened to spill over. "Easier?" You repeated, your voice trembling. "Easier for whom, Sunghoon? Easier for you?"
Sunghoon's gaze dropped to the floor, unable to meet your eyes. He knew the pain and confusion he had caused. "Easier for me..." he admitted softly, his voice tinged with regret.
"I was selfish, y/n. I thought running away would make things easier for me, but I never considered the pain it would cause you. Please, let me make it up to you…”
The sincerity in his voice tugged at your heart, his remorse evident. But you couldn't ignore the anger and hurt that still coursed through you.
"Make it up to me?" You repeated, your voice tinged with a mix of frustration and vulnerability. "How? By suddenly appearing in my life again? By expecting me to forgive and forget everything?"
Sunghoon's shoulders slumped, his eyes welling up with tears. "No... I don't expect you to forgive me, y/n," he confessed, his voice heavy with guilt. "What I did was unforgivable. But please, I'm begging you, just give me a chance… to show you how sorry I am, how much I still care about you."
Your heart ached at the sight of his tears, the vulnerability in his voice tugging at the strings that still connected you to him. But the pain and anger were too fresh, too deep. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself.
"A chance...?" You whispered, your voice trembling. "How can I trust you, Sunghoon? After everything you put me through, how can I trust that you won't just disappear again?"
Sunghoon reached out, his hand almost making contact with yours, but he stopped midway, remembering the boundaries he had created. He swallowed hard, the weight of your words settling heavy on his shoulders.
“You can't…" he admitted softly, his voice laced with pain. "I don't expect you to trust me right away. But please, give me a chance to prove myself, to show you that I'm here to stay."
Your heart ached at his words, the sincerity in his voice both soothing and aggravating. You hated the way he still affected you, the way his presence stirred up feelings you had tried so desperately to bury. Hesitantly, you lifted your gaze to meet his, the vulnerability in his eyes piercing through the barrier you had built around yourself. "And what if I want to trust you?" You asked softly, your voice trembling with a mixture of hope and fear.
Sunghoon's expression softened, a glimmer of hope igniting in his eyes. "Then I would do everything in my power to earn that trust back, y/n, no matter how long it takes," he vowed, his voice tinged with sincerity and determination. “I love you, and I never stopped.”
The raw vulnerability in his voice sent a shockwave through you, stirring a mix of emotions you couldn't ignore.
Your mind warred with your heart, conflicting feelings pulling at you from every direction. "But what about us?" You asked, your voice barely above a whisper. "Can we ever be... what we were before?"
Sunghoon leaned closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "No," he said softly, his voice tinged with honesty. "No, we can't go back to what we were before. We have changed, and so has our relationship. But that doesn't mean we can't build something new, something stronger... something better."
Tears welled up in your eyes, his words both soothing and aggravating. You hated how he could still make you feel so vulnerable, so weak in his presence. "I don't know if I can do this, Sunghoon," you whispered, your voice trembling. "I don't know if I can risk getting hurt again."
Sunghoon's expression softened, a mixture of pain and understanding etched across his features. "I know, y/n," he said softly, his voice tinged with remorse. "I don't blame you for being afraid.
I don't blame you for doubting me, after everything I put you through. But I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. I've learned from my mistakes, and I'm determined to prove that I've changed."
He closed the distance between you, his forehead gently pressing against yours as he murmured, "Let me show you, y/n, let me take care of you right now.." The tenderness in his tone made your heart ache, his fingers gently wiping away the tears that streamed down your face.
Your breath hitched at his touch, the warmth of his forehead against yours both comforting and overwhelming. Your body trembled slightly, the walls you had built around yourself crumbling, as he gently wiped away your tears.
You wanted to resist, to push him away and protect yourself from being hurt again, but the vulnerability in his eyes tugged at something deep within you. "How?" You found yourself whispering, a combination of fear and hope lacing your voice.
Sunghoon's gaze softened, a mixture of vulnerability and desire visible in his eyes. He reached out, his hand gently cupping your face, the gesture sending a wave of warmth through your body. "Let me show you," he murmured, his voice laced with yearning. Without breaking eye contact, he slowly leaned in, his lips softly brushing against yours in a tender kiss.
The touch was like a spark that ignited something deep inside, the weight of their shared history and the lingering chemistry between them undeniable.
As he deepened the kiss, his hand sliding to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, the world seemed to fade into the background. Your heart pounded in your chest, the intensity of the moment overwhelming as your bodies pressed against each other.
Sunghoon's touch trailed down your body, igniting a fire within you that was both familiar and foreign. The kiss continued, a mixture of longing and desperation fueling the connection between them.
His voice trembled with a hint of frustration as he confessed, "I missed your scent so much, y/n, it's infuriating..." His words carried a raw honesty, as if the absence of your presence had deeply affected him.
Your breath caught in your throat, his confession sending a shiver down your spine. The vulnerability in his voice stirred something within you, a pang of sadness mixed with an undeniable connection. "You did?" You whispered, your voice trembling with a mixture of surprise and longing.
He pulled back slightly, his fingers gently tracing your jawline as he met your gaze, his eyes filled with sincerity. "I missed everything about you," he admitted, his voice tinged with a hint of urgency.
"Your laugh, your smile, the way you would bite your lip when you were concentrating, your gentle touch, the way you fit so perfectly into my arms..."
Sunghoon's eyes darkened with desire as he leaned in again, his lips seeking yours in a passionate kiss. His hands slowly began to wander, exploring your body with a fervor that sent electricity through your veins. Without breaking the kiss, his hands slid under your shirt, his touch warm against your skin as he began to gently tug at the fabric, his intention clear.
As the kiss deepened, his hands continued to work, carefully undressing you with an urgency that mirrored the urgency of his feelings. Each piece of clothing fell away, leaving you both vulnerable and exposed yet completely lost in each other.
As the kiss continued, your hands sought him of their own accord, fingers tugging at the hem of his shirt, your desire to feel his skin against yours overwhelming any lingering reservations. Your touch was both demanding and possessive, a silent plea for the physical contact you had been deprived of for so long.
He briefly broke the kiss, his lips curving into a small smirk as he felt your hands tugging at his shirt. "Oh? Is someone eager?" he murmured playfully, the hint of teasing in his voice heightening your anticipation as his gaze met yours, a mixture of desire and challenge.
Heat rushed to your cheeks, your eyes meeting his with a mix of impatience and surrender. "Shut up," you retorted, your voice a mixture of embarrassment and desire. "Just take it off already…want it off Hoon.”
A low growl escaped his throat at your words, his hands immediately moving to comply, his own desire fueled by your eagerness. As his shirt slipped off, the sight of his bare chest sent a thrill coursing through you, your eyes drinking in the contours of his muscles, the familiarity of his body both comforting and exhilarating. He leaned back in, his lips capturing yours in a hungry kiss, your hands eagerly exploring the planes of his back.
Every touch intensified the emotions between you, the familiarity of his body igniting memories that fueled the desire coursing through your veins. Between kisses, he murmured, "I missed how you feel... missed everything about you..." His words, laced with the raw honesty of his feelings, only added fuel to the fire, intensifying the need for more contact. He began kissing down your neck, his hands roaming your body with a possessive touch, as if he were trying to reclaim what he had lost.
As his lips trailed downward, leaving a trail of hot kisses along your skin, your body responded eagerly, arching into him, seeking more of his touch and the physical connection that had been absent for so long. With every kiss and every caress, he seemed to unravel something within you, unearthing emotions and desires that you had tried to bury deep.
His mouth eventually trailed lower, a mix of hunger and reverence in his actions. As he moved lower, his hands slid down your body, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake, his touch both familiar and yet somehow new, igniting a sense of rediscovery between you. He paused briefly, his gaze locking with yours, wordlessly asking for permission and reassurance before continuing his descent.
Your breath hitched in anticipation, your body responding to every touch and movement, the need for him growing with each passing second. Your hands reached out, tangling in his hair as you gave a subtle nod, granting him the permission he sought. The intensity of the moment hung in the air, the bond between you stretched taut, yearning to be broken and rebuilt in the most intimate way.
As he continued his exploration, his hands gently caressed your skin, his fingers tracing patterns of worship that mirrored the thoughts and emotions swirling within him. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice husky with desire. "I missed everything about you, how soft your skin is, how responsive you are to every touch..." His words were a mix of praise and reverence, a fervent prayer of appreciation for the body that had stolen his heart.
As he trailed lower still, his lips finding sensitive spots, he murmured between kisses, "I missed the way you taste... the sounds you make when you're lost in pleasure..." His compliments caressed your ears, igniting a fire within you both, the honesty of his words igniting a spark that only heightened your desire for more.
He took his time, exploring you with a mixture of reverence and urgency, his touches both soothing and exhilarating. His lips continued their journey, leaving a trail of kisses and compliments in their wake, each one a reminder of the depth of his affection. "God, I missed how you fit in my arms," he murmured, his voice cracking ever so slightly, "how your body responds to mine...how perfectly you fit against me."
His hands gripped your hips gently, pulling you closer as he leaned down, his breath warm against your skin. "I'll show you how much I missed everything you have to offer..." he whispered, his voice a mix of need and reverence. As he began to trail kisses lower, he murmured, "Starting with this...if you'll let me."
His touch was gentle, yet firm, a reassurance that he was still there, still wanting and needing you. He paused for a moment, looking up at you, waiting for permission, his eyes filled with a mixture of desire and tenderness. Your breath hitched in anticipation, the need for his touch coursing through you, both comforting and thrilling. With a small nod, you gave your silent assent, your hands instinctively finding their way to his hair, as if to draw him closer, to guide him deeper.
Sunghoon's gaze darkened, his hands moving in a swift, determined motion. In a single, possessive gesture, he reached for the hem of your skirt, pulling it off with a sense of urgency that mirrored the intensity building within him. The sound of it being tossed aside hung in the air, a physical reminder of the boundaries he was breaking, the barriers he was tearing down.
His gaze trailed upwards, taking you in, drinking in every inch of you. You could see the desire and hunger in his eyes, his pupils dilated, his own need mirrored in the way he looked at you, almost possessively. He reached out, fingers gently tracing along your exposed thighs, as if mapping out every curve and line, familiarizing himself all over again.
You could feel the heat of his touch, the way he caressed your thighs with a gentle yet deliberate touch, as if trying to memorize every inch of you all over again. Your breath caught in your throat as you watched him, your own desire mirroring his, your body responding as if it remembered every touch, every moment you had shared.
You bit your lip, silently begging for more, your fingers intertwining in his hair, a silent plea to bring him closer. “P-please Hoon..” you whimpered as you bucked your hips up unintentionally.
He could sense the desperation in your voice, the way your body responded to his touch. "So impatient," he murmured, a hint of teasing lacing his words, as his fingers continued to trace patterns along your thighs. "Don't worry, y/n... I won't make you wait too long..." The tone of his voice sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of playfulness and hunger that only fueled the fire burning within you.
There was a moment of stillness as he paused, his hands still resting on your thighs, as if savoring the anticipation that hung in the air. Then, without warning, he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin, sending a shiver of anticipation through you.
The moment came. His lips brushed against you, the sensation sending a rush of desire through your veins. You gasped, the heat of his breath against your skin, his hands firm against your thighs, holding you steady. And then he began, his tongue exploring you with a mix of familiarity and reverence.
Each touch was deliberate, as if he was trying to memorize the taste, the texture, the feel of you all over again. Words were lost now, replaced by the sounds of desire and satisfaction that filled the air as he continued, his every movement driving you higher and higher, your senses fully consumed.
Your mouth dropped open as he starts flicking his tongue everywhere, his hands keeping your thighs from closing. Tugging on his hair, you buck your hips up into his face again. “Hoon…Oh god..”
Sunghoon continued to explore you with a fervor that only grew with your every response. He could feel the grip of your fingers in his hair, the way your hips bucked up against him. The sounds of your pleasure only fueled his own desire, his hold on your thighs firm, keeping you right where he wanted you.
At your words, a low groan escaped his throat, sending a new wave of sensation through you, the feeling of his lips and tongue, the vibration from his voice, all mingling and building the blissful tension within you.
You couldn't resist, your body reacting like it had countless times before. Your hips bucked again, your fingers digging into his scalp, the need for release overwhelming. "More…Please…" You pleaded, your voice desperate and pleading.
You could feel him respond, his tongue working harder, more urgent, driving you closer to the edge, each second bringing you closer to the release you so badly needed. “Hoon.. I’m so close..!”
You could feel him respond, his lips and tongue matching your pace, eager to bring you to release, his hands holding you tight, keeping your body where he wanted you. His eyes met yours, a silent promise that he would not stop until he had given you everything you needed. The intensity in his gaze only fueled your desire, your body on the verge of crumbling as he continued to drive you closer to the edge.
His movements were relentless, his tongue flicking in all the right places, hitting the spots that made you moan and gasp, causing you to tug desperately at his hair. Your words came more urgently now, almost a plea, as you teetered on the edge of release. "Hoon..I need you..please..!"
Sunghoon could hear the plea in your voice, the way your body reacted to his every touch, and he knew you were close, right on the precipice of release. There was a moment of pause, a brief respite that only heightened the tension between you. His gaze met yours, his eyes dark with desire, silently asking permission, seeking your consent.
Your eyes pleaded with him, your body trembling with need. "Please, Hoon.." you begged, your voice breathless. He nodded, seemingly understanding your unspoken words. Without breaking eye contact, he leaned in again, redoubling his efforts, his tongue working even harder, faster.
With a possessive grip, he shifted his hands, keeping your hips firmly in place, and as he continued his ministrations with his tongue, he nuzzled his nose into your clit. The added sensation, the feel of his nose alongside his tongue, sent a new wave of pleasure coursing through your core, setting your nerves on fire. The gesture was a claim, a reminder that every part of you was his, and the combination was almost too much to bear.
You could feel the heat building to an almost unbearable level, your body trembling on the brink of release, every fiber of your being focused on the sensations coursing through you. Your grip on his hair became desperate, your nails digging into his scalp as you tugged, as if trying to anchor yourself to the moment. "Hoon…I think I'm gonna...I'm close…" Your words were a plea, a warning that you were on the edge, teetering precariously between ecstasy and release.
He could hear the plea in your voice, the way your body shook beneath his touch, telling him how close you were. Without losing a beat, he doubled down, driving you even closer to the edge, his tongue working faster, harder, with a sense of urgency that mirrored your own.
Your back arched, your hips bucking up into his face, desperate for that final push over the edge. The sensations were too much, overwhelming and all-consuming, and you could feel yourself teetering on the precipice, balancing on the edge of release. You panted, trying to form words, "Please, Hoon…I cumming! Oh fuck—Sunghoon!”
Sunghoon could sense your body reaching its limit, the tension building with every movement, every lick of his tongue. Your body was wound tight, trembling on the precipice. And then, with a final surge, he pushed you over the edge, sending wave after wave of pleasure crashing through you, washing away the remnants of doubt and uncertainty.
Your cries echoed through the room as you cum all over his tongue. He pulled back, out of breath as you could still see your liquids smeared all over his lips. “Taste so good y/n,” he groaned before connecting his lips back onto yours, his bulge pressing against your thigh.
As he kissed you, you could taste yourself on his lips, an intimacy that only heightened the connection between you. The feel of his bulge pressing against your thigh was a reminder of how much he wanted you, of the depth of his desire. You wrapped your legs around his waist, drawing him closer, as if trying to erase any distance between you.
The feeling of you touching him, palming his clothed rock-hard cock, was electric, making his breath hitch, a subtle sign of the effect you had on him. He groaned against your lips, his hips instinctively thrusting his hips against your touch, seeking more, craving the connection with you.
With that, he seemed to snap, his restraint crumbling, losing the will to hold back any longer. Without breaking the kiss, he swiftly lifted you up, carrying you with relative ease, his arms securely around you, as if he was afraid you would slip away from him again. In a few swift steps, he had you pressed against the wall, his body flush against yours, the intensity of the moment threatening to consume you both whole.
With a gasp, you felt the cold wall against your back, the contrast making your skin break out in goosebumps. You wrapped your legs around him Instinctively, seeking to bring him even closer, your body yearning for more, aching for the connection you had been deprived of for so long.
Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, your fingers finding purchase in his shirt, pulling him against you, as if you could never get close enough.
He buried his face in the crook of your neck, breathing ragged puffs of air against your skin, the warmth igniting a fire within you. His hands traced the curve of your hips, fingers gripping you possessively, as if to ground himself in the reality of the moment. With a low growl, he nipped at your neck, a silent promise that he would reclaim every inch of you, make you his again.
You tilted your neck to the side, giving him more access, a silent plea for him to continue, to make his mark on you, to claim you as his own. "Hoon, please…" You murmured, your voice a mix of desperation and need, your nails digging into the firm flesh of his shoulders. He responded with a low growl, his mouth exploring your neck, his teeth scraping against your skin, marking you, claiming you. “I want it..”
You could feel the intensity of his desire, his body pressed against you, the hard length of him pressed against your core, a reminder of how much he wanted, needed you. "Please, I need you…" You pleaded, your voice a mix of need and desire, your fingers tracing the contours of his back, seeking more, begging for the connection that had been absent for so long. In response, he groaned against your neck, his hands gripping your thighs, hoisting you up higher, pressing himself even closer, as if trying to fuse together.
"God, I need you so badly, how can you drive me this crazy," he muttered, his voice husky with arousal, as he continued to mark you, leaving a trail of bruises down the column of your neck, his teeth grazing against your heated skin, making you shiver. "Please, let me, I can't hold back anymore! I need you inside Hoon!”
The desperation in your voice, the way you pleaded for him, only fueled his desire, his need to have you more urgent than ever. "I need to feel you," He muttered into your neck, nibbling slightly at the sensitive skin, the gesture sending a shiver up your spine. "Please, let me show you how much I missed you."
Your body was overwhelmed by the intensity of his touch, every caress igniting a fire within you, making you ache for more. "Yes, yes, please Hoon," you gasped, the need for him almost unbearable, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. With a low growl, he claimed your mouth in a passionate kiss, his tongue seeking entry, seeking to devour you completely.
He kissed you with a fierce hunger, his hands dropping to the waistband of his joggers, fingers hooking into the fabric. In one swift motion, he pushed his pants down, a silent command that spoke volumes about the extent of his desire for you.
Once the clothing was out of the way, he cupped your thighs, his touch possessive, as he pressed the length of himself against your core, his voice a deep rumble in your ear. "Feel that? How much I want you? How much I wanna ruin your tight little pussy?”
"Yes, Hoon, I feel it," you breathed, your voice ragged with need, your body arching into him. "I want it, please..." Your words were a plea, a desperate cry, the need coursing through your veins, making you ache for him in a way you'd never experienced before.
He could feel your desire, the way your body reacted, the ache for him evident in every movement, every gasping breath. With a low groan, he rocked his hips against you, the friction sending a jolt of pleasure through both of you. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, murmuring into your ear, "Tell me again, how much you want it, love…"
Your breath hitched as he rolled his hips against you, the sensation driving you wild. "I want it, Hoon, so badly," you gasped.
He could hear the need in your voice, the way you begged for him, it drove him even more wild. "How badly?" he murmured, his voice a low rumble, his lips brushing against your neck.
Your body responded to his touch, your fingers digging into his shoulders, pulling him closer, desperate for more. "So badly, so badly… please," you pleaded, your voice trembling, your body on fire with need.
With a growl, he gave you what you both needed, his hands gripping your thighs as he entered you with a single, firm thrust. "God, love, you feel so good," he groaned, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he started moving inside of you slowly, his hands trailing all over your body. “So perfect y/n.”
The feeling of him inside you, the sensation that both filled you and left you aching for more, made you cling to him, your fingers digging into his skin, desperate for purchase, as you cried out. "Yes, yes, don't stop, please," you pleaded, your words a mix of need and desire as you pulled on his hair, feeling your tits bounce as he pounded into you relentlessly. “You feel so good Hoon!”
Each movement, each thrust was like a spark, igniting a fire within you, burning away all the memories of the past, the doubts, and the fear. He was all that mattered, and you would have him.
He groaned into your neck, his movements growing more frantic with each passing moment, driven wild by the sound of your voice. "Harder? Is that what you want, love?" he breathed, his fingers gripping your thighs, hoisting them up higher as he continued to pound into you, slapping noises filling the room.
Your grip on his shoulders tightened, your voice breaking as you cried out, "Sunghoon—Sunghoon I’m so close! Please…!”
He could hear the desperation in your voice, could feel the way your body tensed, teetering on the edge of oblivion. "Hold on, love," he murmured, his voice ragged with his own need, "cum for me like a good girl, yeah?”
His words were a command, a plea, a promise, and that was all it took for you to release all over his cock. After one final thrust, you feel him gushing into your core. “Fuck,” he groaned, pulling out to see a mixture of both your liquids spilling out of your cunt.
“S-Sunghoon…” you breathed out, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. “Wow…”
He held you close, his arms wrapped tightly around you, keeping you close. He didn't speak for a moment, just held you as he slowly caught his breath.
Then, after a few moments, he spoke, his voice a low rumble. "Wow indeed," he murmured, a hint of a smile in his voice, his fingers tracing lightly over your back.
"That was…" he trailed off, his breath still ragged, his body trembling slightly with the aftershocks of pleasure. "I missed you so goddamn much," he admitted, the words heavy and heartfelt.
He held you close for a few more moments before pulling back slightly, his gaze still locked with yours. He brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his touch gentle. "Let's go get cleaned up, alright?" he said softly, his voice still a bit ragged, but with a warmth that made your heart flutter. You nodded, and with that, he guided you towards the bathroom, his hand holding yours tightly, as if he never wanted to let go again.
I love this so much
#park sunghoon x reader#enhypen park sunghoon#enhypen sunghoon#sunghoon fluff#sunghoon x reader#sunghoon imagines#sunghoon scenarios#sunghoon smut#sunghoon fanfic#park sunghoon#sunghoon#sunghoon hard thoughts#sunghoon hard hours#sunghoon headcanons#sunghoon smau#sunghoon soft thoughts#sunghoon soft hours#enha sunghoon#sunghoon enhypen#sunghoon enha#fanfic#enhypen#enhypen x reader#enhypen imagines#enhypen x y/n#enha x reader#enha imagines#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen hard hours#enha hard hours
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Gotham's newest Crime Lord - part 2
Part 1 | Masterpost
Wraith wrecked havoc like no other.
He was loved and hated by the masses. Defended by Gotham regardless of what they felt of him. A figure in the underworld that hunted down those who moved to harm one of their kin and executed anyone who laid their hands in the weak—children.
The first explosion had been explained by the scattering papers and the anonymous posts of an organization who went after children with malicious intent. Blatant evidence that had people rallying to the GCPD to demand for justice. It was glorious and horrific—especially once they found out that it was Wraith who tossed the Joker into the harbor.
The Bats, by all means, attempt to find him. Figure him out, at least. But the man was a mystery. It was worse considering the majority of Gotham were eagerly telling the Bats to fuck off whenever they tried to hunt down Wraith. The only thing they ever got out of him was that his second in command—Phantom—was the nicer one between them. If you wanted civil negotiations, try and look for Phantom instead.
As much as they wanted to go directly to Wraith, this was their best shot. Their only shot.
"Had any luck finding Phantom?" Dick's hand rested on Tim's shoulder, trying to support his clearly tired brother. Tim was a little to determined, kinda desperate to find this guy.
"Nothing. Their names are trigger words." Tim clicked his tongue, "It's fucking up the system. Remember Ghostmaker's ghostnet? Any attempts makes you want to shut off your systems because of how encrypted they could get."
"Searching up their names gave the Batcomputer a virus?!" Steph gawked, leaning over Tim and staring at the computer. They could all tell he was wary, trying not to type in certain words to keep the damn tech sage from that mania.
"Wraith and Phantom are either metas with technology altering powers..." Barbara hums, "Or they have someone else doing this. Imagine them having their own version of the calculator... But worse and more annoying."
"So our new crime lord has a hacker... That has given the Batcomputer a virus." Dick slowly said, "And is still operating without us finding out."
"Hood and Robin are out trying to find Phantom." Barbara points to the two dots hurriedly moving through crime alley. "Hopefully they find him."
"Any news on Wraith?"
"His latest stint involved tearing down one of Black Mask's operations. Several bodies were found in the harbor."
"Why the harbor?"
"It's his MO, I think. It's always the harbor where he dumps the bodies."
Tim frowns, "Like it's his trash can.... For bodies."
"Hasn't the harbor always been the body trash can of Gotham?" Steph sighs, before turning away to stare at Cass who was training in the simulators again.
Dick glared at her for the comment but once again looked back to the screen.
"Hopefully they find Phantom soon... before Wraith drops more bodies."
Phantom was the nicer of the two—claimes by many people who told them Wraith was a little on the quieter side. No one truly knew but he was quieter than a lot of them.
Crime Alley was Red Hood's territory, everyone knew that. But apparently, Wraith has been operating in the same area from time to time. Mainly to return kids to the alley (freshly claimed by that flaiming white symbol). But Wraith did so quietly. They checked in from time to time to see if the kids were alright.
To be specific...
Phantom came to visit to see if the children they had returned and claimed were safe. Often coming with resources that he mainly reserved for the kids.
"Found him." Jason muttered, voice distorted through the modulator as he narrowed his eyes at the young man dressed in monochrome colors. His binoculars zeroed on the young man with white (seriously??) boots and gloves. The rest of his outfit was black, with a jacket still in monochrome colors. Jason frowned at the hood that covered his head.
"Let's go, Hood. Nightwing and father wants—"
"Stay out of it, Robin." Hood instantly growled. Jason has never felt so territorial before but this guy was in his territory—doing good, keeping the kids safe, marking them so no one tried going after them. "Phantom is Wraith's lieutenant. We don't need to make an enemy of the nicer one and piss of the one who ordered the explosion."
"I can handle him!"
"You'll piss him off!"
Robin scowled, crossing his arms over his chest. "And you won't? Phantom clearly is fond of children and I am a child—"
"With katanas. You're a murderous child. Wraith and Phantom claim children who are in danger. Not the danger." Jason scoffed, while Damian opted to look utterly smug at the statement.
"Stay here." Jason drops down from the building.
He, unfortunately, didn't account for Phantom pulling out a sword from nowhere and immediately pointing it at Jason. The kids behind the man were quick hide behind him, cowering in fear until the recognition sets in their eyes.
"Wait! That's the Red Hood!" A girl yells, standing between them. Stupid but very brave. "He's one of the good ones!"
Phantom, who wore a mask that covered half his face yet showed his eyes, immediately lowered his sword once the girl was between them.
Jason froze, unable to tear his gaze away from Lazarus eyes—no... That shade of green was much purer than the pits... Phantom narrowed his eyes at Jason, before turning back to the girl. "You go and take care of your little sister, yeah? If your mom forgets to feed you again, tell her I'll give her a visit."
The girl nods, but she whirled around and gave Jason the nastiest glare an 8-year-old could give. "You hurt mr. Phantom and I'll tell Wraith!" She pointed an accusing finger at him, frowning before she gives Phantom a quick hug and makes a run for it with the other kids.
Soon enough, they're left alone... Staring at one another.
"I was wondering when one of you Bats would finally find me." Phantom hums, sliding his hand over the hilt of his sword.
Jason warily watched it disappear from sight. Okay. Possible meta, definitely has powers. "You're a hard man to find, Phantom."
"Not for you, I guess. I come and go into your haunt to check in on the kids every week." Phantom laughs, tilting his head.
Jason could see snow white hair from under the hood, making him shudder as the deathly green eyes are brought back to his attention.
"Every week, huh?" Jason clicked his tongue. "I'll cut to the chase. Your boss's stint—" he swore that Phantom twitched "—pissed of the big Bat. He ain't happy tnag Wraith is bombing up buildings and killing people."
Phantom visibly rolled his eyes, "Too bad then. Wraith's pretty direct when it comes to this shit. Trafficking and pimping kids make him murderous but the fact that those bastards were killing them and selling their organs? He's damn genocidal at this point. Can't say I disagree with that."
Jason... Well... Jason can't argue with that. If he found out that some bastards were doing that to kids, he'd go ballistic too. But Bruce didn't agree with these methods and was rather reproachful about it. But Wraith wasn't going to back down. This wasn't a normal rogue that had felt fear of the Batman and his brood before. To be honest, Jason thinks he's pretty ballsy.
"I don't disagree with that shit either. But Batman ain't going to let him off the hook after that stunt." Jason warned, grunting as he spoke through the modulator. The pits were flaring up again. But not malicious, not murderous. It was curious as it warmed his chest and practically urged him to get closer to Phantom.
"Yes, well... Piece of advice—Wraith is willing to blow up an entire district if it meant keeping others safe. And besides, your rogues know not to mess with him. Not after the Joker." He didn't actually see Phantom's face but he's pretty sure that the bastard was grinning.
"So he really did it."
"If it makes you feel any better, the Joker might as well be cursing him from the afterlife. It was an accident." Phantom shrugged.
An accident, Jason breathed out. Holy fuck, that would have been humiliating for the Joker. His death. An accident. Unintentional and he still died, his body dumped into the harbor.
"Anyways, tell Batsy not to mess with the kids. I know he doesn't, but he let the Joker live, so..." Phantom gave him a thumbs up, "Make sure to not cross pass with Wraith or else you'll end up in the harbor."
Jason gawked, watching as Phantom slipped into the shadows and promptly disappeared. Meta. Definitely a meta.
"Hood, report." Batman's voice rang through the comms.
"Red Hood," he grunts, "Wraith sure as hell doesn't like you, old man. And Phantom might be the nice one but he might as well be as stabby as Robin."
"I agree with Hood. He has wonderful posture, father!" Robin spoke, sounding impressed and smug.
The little shit.
"Technus, stop bullying Oracle." Dan groaned once he caught the ghost tampering with the net... Again.
The crime lord turned towards Danny, who melted out of the shadows again. Technus was blabbering about pesky bats and birds before Dante clocked his younger brother's apprehension. He looked....annoyed and concerned.
"I talked to Red Hood."
"YOU WHAT?!"
"Fun fact! He's a revenant!"
"THE FUCK YOU MEAN THE OTHER CRIME LORD IS A REVENAN?!"
"A very sexy looking one."
He was going to punch Danny. He was going to fucking punch Danny.
(Danny was not punched.)
"He said that Batman's pissy about you blowing up shit." Danny shrugged, shaking his head before floating over to the energy drinks and coffees by Dan's desk. "Good news though! I told him he'd end up in the harbor if he ever tried anything with us."
Dan gawked, "What the fuck is wrong with you?! You want to make the bats our enemies?"
"No! I'm commiting to our crime family bit!"
"We're not a crime family!"
"Tell that to Ellie. She's already got herself a new suit and everything."
Dan threw his hands up in the air, groaning at the insanity that was his younger siblings. Dear ancients, he was praying that Jazz wouldn't find out about the shit they've done in Gotham. She'd give them the worst tongue lashing the world has ever experienced if she did. Thank God she was in Yale right now.
"Ooh! A crime family, you say?" Technus grinned, floating closer to Danny who lounged in Dan's chair. (Get the fuck away from my crime lord throne, Danny! The leather is expensive!)
"That is perfect! The others have decided to migrate here, did you know? It's been quite... Boring back in Amity." Technus snickered.
Fuck. No.
"I bet my trust from Vlad that Johnny, Kitty, and Ember are already on their way." Danny cackled, "That'd be nice. Elle's been itching to steal Johnny's bike again."
"Splendid! We shall wreck havoc upon Gotham and exact justice that the Bats cannot give the people!" And like a supervillain, Danny cackled as he stood on Dan's desk, laughing maniacally.
(Just outside, the Wraith's goons peaked into the room and saw the insanity that was the nice lieutenant's villainy.)
Meanwhile, in the distance, the laughter of Johnny 13 and Kitty rang through the streets of Gotham.
Part 3 | Masterpost
#Gotham's newest Crime Lord#dead on main#maybe#jason todd#batman#crossover#nightwing#red hood#danny fenton#dpxdc#dc x dp#danny phantom#Dan is stressed cause the nice one is kinda more chaotic#He's trying his best to be good okay!#Danny and Elle are kinda set on making a crime family of ghosts to mess up Gotham#The bats are just as stressed as Dan at this point#Babs and Tim are now Technus' nemesis
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a brief recap of what has been going on with the sonic movieverse in the past several months:
paramount has come out in public support of israel
keanu reeves, a man who has publicly rubbed elbows with none other than benjamin netanyahu, reportedly gets cast as shadow for the upcoming third movie
james marsden, the guy who plays tom, got exposed as having written a letter of support for a convicted pedophile
there's fucking??? zionist propaganda in the knuckles series???
kind of connected to the last point but adam pally, the guy who plays wade, is evidently pro-israel too
this is a complete and utter joke.
EDIT AS OF 4/30/24: if people see this version of the post, i'd really appreciate it if you reblog it instead of the other versions, as it's the most updated one with all the information that i want included. thank you :]
you know, it's been a few days since i've made this post, and some of you (not most) are staying determined in defending/justifying/giving the benefit of the doubt to keanu for that photo with netanyahu, whether it's because "it was a decade ago," "him being civil to someone he ran into at a party one time doesn't mean anything," "he's probably just silent because his pr managers won't allow him to speak up," etc. i've made my thoughts on the matter quite clear by directly responding to these people, but at this point, i'm tired of both seeing them in my notes and repeating myself, so take this as my final word on the issue.
i can't help it if you don't think the photo with netanyahu is damning, and i'm done engaging with everyone going out of their way to tell me that. i obviously disagree, especially after finding out that 1. the host of the party, arnon milchan, is a former israeli spy who has a history of developing israel's nuclear program and promoting apartheid in south africa (information that had broken out a few months prior to the party and thus would've been fresh news around the time keanu chose to attend) and 2. keanu has been caught hanging around at least two other weirdos, but if you don't find any of that to be cause for reasonable concern, then there really is nothing else i can say afaik.
with all that said, i'm beginning to realize how strange it is that these people's first instinct when seeing this post is to start debating about keanu's political stances without ever acknowledging any of the other bullet points. you guys realize that this isn't just about him, right? i know tumblr reading comprehension is known for being piss-poor, but like… you realize that i was trying to make a point of how there are MULTIPLE terrible things that have broken out about the people and company involved in the sonic movies, right? and yet, a lot of the people leaping to speak on keanu's behalf in my notes are completely ignoring the parts where i bring up paramount, pally, etc. all in favor of zeroing in on the singular point about keanu and making bad faith assumptions about me for holding him accountable. really makes one wonder where your priorities lie if, in a post that talks about so many other things, me accusing an a-list celebrity with, according to google, a net worth of almost $400 million is where you draw the line and apparently the only thing worth your acknowledgment.
ultimately, what i'm trying to say is that the intention of this post was just to gather up everything that i had been hearing for the past several months and put it all together in one place. there were a bunch of people who didn't know about at least one of the bullet points before seeing this post, and i'm glad that i could help inform them, that was what i was hoping to do! but as for the keanu thing, i've said pretty much all i can say for now, and i don't want to derail the original post even more than i may have already. unless something new comes up, i'm done talking about him.
#sonic#sonic the hedgehog#sonic movie#.sbs3#yeah no i WILL be annoying about this#because what the fuck
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SLYTHERINSLUT0’S KINKTOBER
october 8th. tom — somno / free use kink.
KINKTOBER MASTERLIST. | 2024.
summary: tom riddle is a god at many things. you’ve never felt more alive than when you’ve reduced him to something lesser.
warnings: 18+, SMUT MDNI, free use, sleeping kink, a lot of reverence for more biblical tom riddle that i genuinely need to choke me unconscious, PIV, fingering, multiorgasm, overstim, slight bondage, dubcon but not really i mean this fic speaks for itself. tom is kinda soft here???? what happened to me??
Tom Riddle, you'd determined, was obsessive before he was anything else. You saw it long before you knew him—intimately, at least—his compulsions, the meticulous way in which he carved out his time, handpicking what fit his ambitions best before pouring himself into them until he was empty.
Tom never moved with half-measures, a man that brilliant does nothing halfhearted.
You didn't expect to become his fixation—didn't know what it meant to be seen by someone who never stopped searching—never stopped dissecting—until the moment when his eyes lingered just a second too long and his hands followed suit—the moment he taught you the meaning in the only way he knew how.
Benevolently.
Tom Riddles need is tempered but there's always something burning underneath, something that flickers to life when his breath catches against your neck—when his fingers trace delicate lines along your skin—something that feels a lot like a thank you. The magical world gave him power—dominion—but in you, he found control. The kind you give freely, without even knowing it, the kind that he takes with the same reverence in his hands he applies to everything he touches.
There’s always been a mutal give and take between you—one formed without words and you solemnize this unspoken vow because he leaves you no other choice.
And it's not by force, not by demand, but by the sheer intensity of his regard, that sacred hunger in the way he looks at you, like you were made for this. For him. To be unmade, piece by piece, worshipped in the ruins of what you once were and stitched back together by his grace alone. When he kneels at your feet after a day that's worn him thin, his eyes sharp with exhaustion— when he spreads you open as though you're a book of scripture, when his hands steady you and his mouth finds its way between your thighs—there's nothing left for you to do but hold onto him. Your fingers in his hair, letting him take—letting him consume you in ways only he can.
He is both salvation and sin. Saviour and ruin. You're not sure how it's possible but he ensures you believe it.
And it started with secret moments—stolen glances, brushes of fingers, impromptu study sessions. But it grew into something more, and then something more still, until one day he's slipping into your flat as though it's his own, finding you before you even realize he's there.
You'll be cooking dinner and without a word, he'll flick off the stove with a twitch of his fingers—a breath of magic—his appetite insatiable but not for any caloric substance. You pretend, for his sake, to be surprised by his power, the way he moves without moving, but he knows better now—knows that nothing he does surprises you anymore, not after the way he loosens the strings of your corset with just a blink, how his teeth scrape your ear in a smile as he works a spell between your thighs. Not after he waits until you're thoroughly ruined by his magic—malleable just the way he likes you before he's merciful, allowing you the honour of his touch—allowing himself the honour of breaking you further.
There's no shock left in it because you've already accepted that whatever you think he's capable of—there's more.
There will always be more with Tom—a knowledge that is a sweet, endless ache. He is reasoning made lucid. You could never define all that he is capable of.
And foolishly you thought after all these years you'd have come to understand him, but Tom Riddle is not easily deciphered—he's a mystery even to himself, a disposition of contradictions. He doesn't need to be understood; he only needs to feel as if he is, to which you do your best. But when you're finally asleep after a long day and feel the bed dipping behind you in the quiet hours—a large, rough hand grazing timidly up your thigh, comprehension of Tom Riddle becomes even more of a distant accomplishment.
There is no logic in him when it comes to you, just instinct. No explanations, just need.
Tom has always had his compulsions, but you are his favourite fixation, and so you give. There's hunger, and there's devotion. There's desire, and then there's worship. You let him choose which ones he wants from you.
On this night you stir, half-conscious yet not quite aware of what's happening as his fingers move slowly, finding the heat between your legs and spreading you gently. There's never any urgency in his movements, though the fervour is palpable—a kind of feverish desperation thrumming beneath the surface, a pulse you can feel in his flesh, in the way his breath catches as if this is the only way he knows how to breathe.
Perhaps the only certainty about Tom is that you know he wouldn't be here if it weren't a necessity.
And he does this often, though sometimes it's more—the plush of his lips, the slick slide of his tongue—but this time, he chooses to wake you to the steady push of his fingers inside you, two of them stretching you, deliberate in their rhythm, curling deep, coaxing you open. It's his mercy, his crafted version of tenderness—you know he could easily just cast a lubing charm and press right in—but he doesn’t. He paces, he savours.
It’s a patience he continually allows himself which you know he doesn't have to give.
And some nights, when you wake to his touch—he whispers for you to sleep, to let him have you quietly, other times he'll make it clear that's the last thing he wants.
Tonight—
You shift against him, instinct guiding your body, but he hushes you, gentle, soft—a tut of warning, a shushing breath against your ear. You don't know how long he's been inside you, how long his need has burned quietly beside you, but by the time you realize, it's the wet sounds, obscene, that draw you from the haze of sleep, drowning out the sharpness of his breath. You're half-gone, face pressed into the pillow, drooling— and your lips part on a moan that never fully forms.
When your hand reaches instinctively for his wrist, his growl curls low in your ear—
"Sleep," if the command was a weapon it'd be a feather—he casts a binding spell on your wrists, drawing them above your head. "I've got you."
You swallow another moan, throat dry, choking on air as you fight to rip free from whatever remnants of slumber you're clinging to. His fingers are slow, pumping in and out of you, dragging you deeper into his need—and you're shaking in a way that is as involuntary as it is habitual. You know from experience just how much he loves this— the way he reduces you to fragments, the way he breaks you apart until there's nothing left but the shattered pieces of your pleasure—the mess he can make of you in minutes, even absentmindedly.
He slips an arm under your head, pulling you closer, impossibly close. The room is dark, and though you can't see him, you imagine his face—the hunger in his eyes as his skin sticks to yours, the hard evidence of his need against your ass.
"T-Tom—" your voice stumbles, a choked whisper of his name. His hand curls over your mouth, silencing you.
"Quiet," he mutters. "It's just a dream."
His breath ghosts over your neck, and your back arches in response. Wherever he was earlier, he came back starving, and this is part of it—sometimes he wants you silent, sometimes he wants you loud. Tonight, he wants you like this.
"Stay still," he murmurs again, and you shudder, your climax pulled from the edges of sleep by the slow drag of his fingers inside you. "Just a dream..."
A dream, he says—somewhere inside you, buried under a fog of grog you know it isn't, and he knows you know, he's not trying to trick you but it's all part of the game—coaxing—the way he devours you a little more each time, not just physically but mentally too.
With your lips muffled by his hand and his fingers buried deep, you do what you always do—you let him.
"T-Tom—" you whimper through the cracks in his digits. Your body is soft, boneless, melting into his touch, aching for more. "Please—"
As much as he wants you quiet he wants his name broken in your mouth all the same. He rewards you with a bitten-off moan, a crack in his control, a slight hitch in his breath—you clench around his fingers and his palm tightens over your mouth just a little too hard before he realizes and eases up.
You did say Tom's need was tempered—but sometimes, there are exceptions.
"I said quiet." His hips rut against your ass, fingers slow dragging at your walls, scissoring in your slick. "Let me give you this."
You push back into him, desperate, needy. "But—"
"Take it." His fingers on your mouth slide past your lips and over your tongue, reaching toward the back of your throat. Tears spring to your eyes as you gag, the sound smothered by the moan you make as a spell, swirling and tightening, pulses against your clit. "With the way I'm going to fuck you, you need this...you'll thank me later for it..."
Tom doesn't waste words. His tone may be soft but it's also sharp, which tells you everything you need to know—that he's had a wretched day and you're the only thing that can make it better. That he's going to fuck out his frustrations on you.
You moan around his fingers at the thought.
"You'll want to be nice and stretched for me, won't you?" A statement, not a question. "You don't want it to hurt. You know I don't want to hurt you."
Though he'll deny it, he's not as emotionless or as lacking in empathy as he'd like to believe. It's one of the many things you've come to know about him—or should you say, one of the many things you've struggled to understand about him—but the way he says it, like he's reminding himself not to be cruel—it's all very Tom Riddle.
"I don't want to hurt you.." he repeats in a murmur, as if he's trying to convince himself. You can't speak, though you're not sure you could find the words even if you could; the only indication you give him that you understand—that you hear him—is the quiet whimper that slips past his fingers. "Just need you."
The spell on your clit is as overwhelming as the drag of his fingers against your walls and it's only moments until you're cumming hard around him and he's groaning hard in return—you know his eyes are closed and you know he's inhaling every single sound you make as though he could house them in his lungs. The darkness clings to you like a second skin but Tom clings to you worse—not relenting even as you're twitching and whimpering with aftershocks.
"There we go." You're squirming and Tom fucking loves it. "Good girl."
Overstimulation is charging in—you have no where to run from it. You bite down on his digits in your mouth and he punishes you by intensifying the spell on your clit. "T-Tom—Tom—"
All he offers is a shush. His fingers curl deep.
"I need...I need you...need this.." he's mumbling, mantra-like, almost like a prayer and perhaps that's the closest he's come to one. You can count on one hand the amount of times you've heard him say it but you know there's no one else he'd be saying it to—no one else he'd want to. "You know, I thought of this all day...having you, like this..."
You sob around his fingers in your mouth as he rips another climax from you—you think you're seeing stars and you know if you are, they were hung there by him.
"Couldn't focus.." his teeth find your jaw, just under your ear, biting just a little harder than he usually does. "No matter what I did, I just kept thinking of this...of you...of you like this for me.."
Tom Riddle is a greedy man—in all ways—but he's not only greedy in the way he takes from you, he's greedy in the way he gives to you too, and though he would never admit it—he'd rather die first—this moment feels as close to worship as he'll ever come.
As you said, there's reverence in everything he fucking touches—you know you're lucky you get to experience it.
"You have this effect." He swallows hard, you feel it against your shoulder. "You have this effect on me...I—I can't stop wanting you-“
—and he's just a man, after all. No matter how well versed in dark spells and manipulation, no matter how cold and calculating he's able to be, beneath it all he's so very mortal. He tells you he was never made for love but when he buries his face in your neck and talks this talk it sure feels like maybe he was.
And all it does is make you want him that much more—knowing that you do this to him—you make him weak. You make him want and need and yearn.
"I don't even know what you've done to me," his voice is destroyed—his thoughts cut off by the evidence of your desperation for him, the lewd sounds coming from your pussy as you suck on the fingers in your mouth. "Fuck, you're so wet."
You groan, helpless and needy as a whore. Tom digs his teeth into your shoulder. It's all too much. There are many ways to come apart and this is Tom's only true undoing—in the aftermath of the destruction he causes, and you are—his collateral.
"Fuck—oh, fuck—" you're garbling, the words don't sound like words. "T-Tom—"
You're not sure how long you've been awake or how many times you've cum—how much oxygen you've inhaled since this all started but the one certainty is that you know Tom has very little patience left—if any.
"Fuck." He shifts, grinding against you. "Can you take me? Can you take me right now?"
All you can do is nod—your eagerness evident in the pace of it—drool dribbling down your chin and instantly the spell fades from your clit, his fingers pull out of your cunt and he's lifting your thigh up toward your head, fingers still hooked in your mouth. There's a moment of movement—trousers and boxers pulled down and then he's there—thick and heavy and warm between your thighs. You tense.
You'll never get used to the size of him. His ego made flesh. Though perhaps the greatest pleasure is in knowing he'll never get used to you, either.
"Gonna—gonna fuck you." He mutters against your neck as he glides along your slit—you're soaked, slick coating your thighs and the sheets and him but it never matters much because it always stings when he takes you. Especially like this. "It won't be soft."
You moan and he finally pulls his fingers free from your mouth, dragging them down to your throat, nails against your skin that feel more like claws because for all the human Tom Riddle is he's just as much animal.
He's never known soft—only with you—but you wouldn't have him if not for all his jagged lines and sharp edges. You let him take.
"Please, Tom-" words fail you, they always do when he's like this. "Please, gods—fuck me-"
Tom growls and it vibrates up your spine. You rarely curse when you can help it—so when you do, when you can't do anything to stop the pathetic vulgarities—he likes it too goddamn much and you know he's going to give you what you want because you give him what he needs.
A mutual give and take, as all the best things are.
"No god could compare to me." He doesn't say it with arrogance, just with certainty, like a letter he's written a thousand times. Then, he's flipping you onto your stomach, wrists still bound above your head as he lines up and presses inside you—all at once, deep and full and breathtaking. "Oh, yes—"
You cry out but it's muffled by the pillow, your cunt trying hard to adjust to the stretch—Tom is never cruel, but he is brutal, and perhaps the two get confused. There is a difference, though you know he would prefer to remain ambivalent on his own harshness, it’s the only way he's managed to survive this long—but here, with you, he thinks he can allow for a bit of mercy.
And he gives it, in his own way, only because you gave it first. It's as close as he'll come to offering himself without asking anything in return. To you, it's still a pretty close second.
"I'm going to make you feel this," he murmurs, lips against your shoulder, teeth against skin and if you had any tears left, this would be when they fell. "You'll think of this all day tomorrow. You'll think of me all day tomorrow."
He pauses inside you—he's taking it slow and the implications of that fact are far out of reach right now.
"I'll think of you anyway, Tom," you grit through your teeth, voice cracking on his name as he pulls out—only halfway—ensuring you feel that emptiness before he presses back in. "I'm—ohh—a-always thinking of you."
He makes a sound, a broken sort of sound, the same one you've heard him make only a handful of times—a raw, vulnerable, almost pathetic sound and all it does is make you want him that much more. He's still moving too slow, too methodically, drawing pleasure out from deep under your skin.
You clench around him because you know he doesn't want you to—he warns you against it with a cervix-piercing thrust.
"You're always thinking of me." His hand snakes around your throat, his lips to your ear—"and are you proud of that?"
You know that's a loaded question, the answer to which he doesn't truly care to know. But it's one you'll answer truthfully, regardless—because you know it'll affect him either way.
You nod, just once—and the grip on your neck tightens, cutting off an almost sob. His hips piston faster now, as though you've chipped off another piece of his control.
"Proud enough, then," he growls, his pace unforgiving, and that's enough to tear another broken sound from you—from the both of you. His fingers twist painfully around your throat, digging into your skin like a man possessed, and you know that means he's done holding back. His mouth is next to your ear, you can feel his smirk. "M'sorry—I'm—sorry—"
He says he's sorry but you know he's not. Not with the way he's groaning into your ear, not with the way he's driving his cock fast and deep. He is a manmade monster and a self-made god trapped inside a mortal man who needs so much to feel human. He knows to be nothing but intense. It's a wonder how the three can exist in him all at once.
"T-tom-" your voice fractures around his name, the only word you know now. "F-fuck—s'deep—ohh-"
His teeth sink into your neck as he cranks your head back with a pull of your hair, bared teeth on preyish flesh and you hardly have time to worry how deep he might devour because you feel his magic on your clit and you see those stars again—distant yet creeping closer, drawn down to your orbit by his power alone.
"M'sorry—" he mutters again, as though he was saying it to your cervix. "Fuck—"
You scream out again as the spell on your clit swirls faster—the sensation unfathomable each and every time—he's fucking you so hard you're burning underneath him and though the pleasure is as white hot as the flames that now cover every inch of you, you don't fear burning as much as you fear it's passing.
He's a fire in your veins, in your blood, and if he stops now you'll die of the cold.
"So good for me," he says, as soft as he can muster for being so lustdrunk— "so—perfect. You're perfect."
Perfect. You whinge and squeeze your eyes shut—choking on your breath. The words are more painful than his thrusts because time and time again you’ve failed to decipher their meaning—you know he doesn't believe in perfection, the concept too weak and foolish for his sake—but he's said it before, always in times like this—you are perfect.
You're perfect under his hands. You're perfect when you shatter apart for him, in the darkness, under the light of those stars he dragged down for you.
"Ohh—fuck—Tom—" another climax wracks you, splitting you at the seams. "I'm—I'm—"
It feels like an earthquake and you're the epicenter, all the power and destruction Tom thrusts into you radiating from within you outward. His hand moves from your throat to your jaw, tilting your face back so he can kiss you, messily, open-mouthed and with teeth. But it's still a kiss. Something he rarely does.
"Yeah, yeah. Good—" he grunts into your mouth. "Mmfff—fuck—tight—“
A second later, he's cumming, a broken string of profanity tumbling from his chest into your mouth, release spilling deep inside you, warm and thick and he holds you tighter for it as you whimper and throb around him. Tom has always had his reservations. Always had his long list of fixations—and like you said, he pours himself empty into the ones he's chosen. It's in moments like these where you feel it more than ever—as his hips slow and his cock stops twitching inside you—the way that he's made you part of that list.
And when he's done moving through you—when he's done taking what he needs—he pulls away, yet he's still there. Freeing your wrists and rubbing them gently, curling you against him as you both descend.
"Thank you." He murmurs, face in your hair.
You tell him he doesn't need to thank you but you know it makes no difference. After all, he's still a man. A man with something to prove, even under a sky full of stars he dragged down for you.
Tom is a god at many things. You've never felt more alive than when you've reduced him to something lesser.
#SLYTHERINSLUT0’S KINKTOBER👻#kinktober 2024#kinktober#tom riddle#harry potter#tom riddle smut#tomriddle smut#tom riddle x y/n#tom riddle x yn#tomriddlesmut#tom x reader#tom riddle x oc#tom riddle x reader#tom smut#tom riddle x you#tomriddle x you#tomriddle x reader#slytherin boys x reader#slytherin boys#slytherinboys#slytherin boy#slytherin#riddle x reader#riddle smut#riddle brothers#riddle
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healing process | alexia putellas x reader
You headed to Barcelona for a gap year, hoping to heal from a messy breakup. What you didn’t expect was to find yourself entangled in an even more complicated romance with the captivating, 30-year-old footballer who lived just down the hall. | wc: 21k+
tags: age gap, collegestudent!reader, mostly angst, some smut, next-door neighbors, fluff in the start, drama,
contains: femme!reader, unrealistic football season schedule, strap r!receiving, fingering r!receiving, dirty talk, drunk sex, cunnilingus r!receiving+a!receiving, toxic situationship, love triangle (kinda but not really), cursing, use of pet names, might have some errors and typos
masterlist ♡ please reblog this fic if you enjoyed it! please do not repost this anywhere else!
⋆˙⟡♡ After suffering a rough break-up with your high school sweetheart and ex-girlfriend of 6 years, you decided that what you needed most was a gap year in a foreign country. So, you packed your essentials and booked a one-way ticket to Barcelona.
⋆˙⟡♡ You lived with your rich aunt who worked as a doctor in Barcelona. She kindly agreed to give you lodging, three meals a day, and the occasional pocket money in exchange for helping her keep the house tidy and walking the dogs, which wasn't much work for you anyway.
⋆˙⟡♡ "Warm day out," You said to your aunt's golden retriever, Ruby. "Let's make the most of it and find me a new girlfriend." You figured that today was a good idea to get dolled up, wear a sundress, and just pass by the nearby university with the cutest dog in the world. Ruby would catch the attention of all the cute college girls and then, you'd reel them in with a few eyelash bats.
That would be the perfect way of getting a meet cute. You thought to yourself.
⋆˙⟡♡ You got dressed, putting on a teasingly short white sundress and a pair of ballet flats. You brushed your hair and applied a bit of make-up. You were determined to get that meet-cute and find someone to help you forget about your girlfriend.
The easiest way getting over an ex was getting under someone, your best friend always said. You always rolled your eyes at her but now, you couldn't help but feel that she might have been right.
Cause here you were in one of the most beautiful cities in the world and all you could think about was your stupid ex. You needed to do something about it and quick.
⋆˙⟡♡ You put on Ruby's leash and cheerfully walked out of your aunt's apartment unit, determined to be all cutesy until a girl approaches you.
It seemed Ruby had the same idea, because as soon as you stepped into the hallway, she spotted a tiny Pomeranian across the hallway, and that was all it took. Without warning, Ruby darted toward the dog, pulling you forward as you tried to hold on to the leash. Before you could even process, you were flat on your face.
You yelped as you fell, the sound catching the attention of the tiny dog’s owner. You winced as your body slammed into the floor, feeling pained by the impact. But, nothing was more painful than the embarrassment that followed.
“Ui, guapa, estàs bé?” The voice called out, the sound of rushing footsteps getting closer. “Aquest gos teu és fort, eh?”
You groaned as you tried to push yourself up, but both dogs had already zeroed in on you, sniffing your head as you attempted to sit up. This definitely isn't romance movie, meet-cute material.
As you finally settled on your butt, trying to regain your composure, the other girl chuckled, saying something in a language you couldn’t quite place. You looked up, and everything around you seemed to blur.
She was, without question, the most beautiful woman you’d ever seen.
Her blonde hair framed her face perfectly, and her sun-kissed skin accentuated her cheekbones. Her eyes were a warm hazel that seemed to glimmer in the soft light. You blinked, stunned by how gorgeous she looked.
“Uh, I don’t speak, um…” You stammered, struggling to find words in the face of such beauty. You could feel your face warm up.
She chuckled, her smile practically glowing. “You must’ve hit your head, yeah?”
You snapped back into reality and laughed awkwardly. “Oh, yeah, uh, I fell.” You winced internally. Why was I telling her that? She literally witnessed it all play out.
The girl laughed too, her voice light and warm. "Hmm," She bit her lip. Unbeknownst to you, she was also checking you out, glancing at your eyes and lips. And the sundress... she always loved seeing girls in short sundresses. "Why don't you come over and I'll help you ice that head, yeah?"
You just nodded stupidly cause even if you were still filled with embarrassment, there was no way you were passing up the opportunity to get to know this gorgeous Blonde.
⋆˙⟡♡ Alexia helped you up, holding your arm as she guided you towards her place. You felt intimidated by her strong presence. She just seemed like the kind of person who seemed so sure of themselves. Even the way she said her own name when she introduced herself was so sexy. It didn't take you long to be enamored by her. In fact, all it took was the walk from where you fell to her door.
⋆˙⟡♡ As soon as you stepped inside her home, you got an immediate sense of who Alexia was. She guided you to the living room, and as you sat down, you couldn’t help but notice the details of the space —the warmth of the interiors, the photos framed on the walls, the trophies displayed proudly, the personal touches in every corner. It was clear that she was someone with impeccable taste and a meticulous eye for detail.
"Trophies?" You asked as you settled down on the couch with Ruby who was too distracted sniffing the pomeranian's butt.
Alexia responded as her expression lightened up. "Ah, yes, I am a footballer."
You nodded and hummed, impressed. "Like, for fun?"
Alexia chuckled as she got behind her kitchen counter, wrapping some ice cubes in a kitchen towel. "Yes, for fun..." She answered. "And for work. I play professionally."
"Oh," You responded, mildly embarrassed that you didn't recognize her. "Sorry, I don't watch much soccer."
Alexia settled next to you on the couch, leaning in to gently place the ice against your head, on the nonexistent bump. (She had no clue you didn't actually hit your head and was just too shy and intimidated to correct her when she thought you did.)
“Here?” she asked, her voice soft as she pressed the ice towel on your forehead.
You nodded, biting your lip as she leaned closer. She was so close you could feel the warmth of her body, the gentle touch of her hand, and smell the subtle scent of her perfume. It made your pulse quicken, and you tried not to let your thoughts wander.
“Hmm,” she hummed, locking eyes with you as she tried to make conversation. “You're American, yes?"
“Yeah… is it obvious?” you blushed, feeling suddenly self-conscious by the fact that she was suddenly getting to know you.
She chuckled. “Well, first, you called it soccer and not football. And… you don’t speak Catalan or Spanish.” She responded as she brushed away the stray hairs sticking to your forehead. "The accent too, of course. It's cute."
You felt your cheeks flush even more. She was so observant, and you couldn’t help but feel a little shy under her gaze.
She leaned back a little, giving you some space as she continued, “So, what is an American girl like you doing in Barcelona?"
You hesitated for a moment before answering. “Oh, I'm taking a gap year… from college.” You said, hesitating to mention the whole thing with your ex. "Stress from school and stuff, y'know how it is."
She raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Hmm, still in school." She mused, under her breath. "And how old are you?”
“Uh… 22,” you stammered, suddenly nervous.
Alexia hummed thoughtfully, her lips curling into a small smile. “So young,” she muttered under her breath. “Too young, actually.”
You blinked, unsure if you heard that right. You couldn't help but jump to conclusions. Pretty older women should never make statements like that, you thought to yourself as you grew even more flustered. “What do you mean?”
Alexia grinned slyly. “I just mean... I’m old enough to know better than to wear a short sundress with just a pair of lacey pink panties underneath while walking a gigantic dog.” She recounted with a chuckle.
You grew tomato red, realizing just how embarrassing her first impression of you was. You felt the warmth spread across your cheeks and then to your body. You wished the floor would have swallowed you whole.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry you had to see that." You stammered, tripping over your own words.
She chuckled. "Why sorry?"
Your heart skipped a beat as she said it with a barely detectable mischievous glint in her eyes. You blinked in shock. "Uh, uhm, just cause... public indecency?"
Alexia laughed. "You're funny." She leaned in close again to continue icing your head. "Is the ice helping or not at all?"
You bit your lip as you gazed at her raised arms, the tattoo on the underside of it, the muscles. As she moved closer to you, the more you got a whiff of her intoxicating scent and the more you get to see the beautiful details of her face.
"Oh, it's helping a lot."
⋆˙⟡♡ Ever since you met Alexia and learned that she lived just across the hall from your aunt, you found yourself walking Ruby more often than ever. What started as a casual routine soon turned into an excuse to see her, which was successful since you always ended up running into her.
⋆˙⟡♡ “Since you’re always walking Ruby, we should go together. It would be good for Nala to have a friend.” Alexia said as you were heading back to your apartment on one of the times you coincidentally bumped into her. “I should give you my number so you can text me whenever you and Ruby are out.” “Oh, sure, sure.” You said trying to play it cool when you were really geeking out on the inside. You handed over your phone to Alexia who typed her number into your phone.
She bit her lip as she returned it. “Text me as soon as you get home so I can save your number, okay?” She smiled at you. “See you soon, guapa.”
⋆˙⟡♡ Naturally, you texted Alexia every day that you would be walking Ruby. Initially, you were afraid your crush on her would be so obvious but even if it was, Alexia didn’t seem to mind as she never missed a day with you.
⋆˙⟡♡ When you passed by cute cafés during your dog walks, she'd insist on buying you a drink while chatting you up about college life or whatever was piquing your interest that day. It was rare that she talked about herself, which you found hard to believe considering that she had so many achievements.
⋆˙⟡♡ The daily walks weren’t enough for you. You had to see her more but you were afraid that she’d view you as some kid who always begged to hang out. So, you tried to be a bit more subtle by trying to bump into her every chance you got. ⋆˙⟡♡ There wasn't a single dirty sock in your aunt's apartment since you went to the laundromat every chance you got just to bump into Alexia. And when you did, she was always courteous and proper. She never let you carry your own bag of laundry up to your floor even when you insisted you could handle it. She always paid for your laundry too. Even when you would try to tell her that your aunt left you more than enough money for errands, she’d laugh and say something along the lines of “just pocket it and let me pay” or “it’s just a few euros, no big deal.”
⋆˙⟡♡ A couple of times, you joined her for her grocery run to the supermarket when all you really needed was a singular tube of toothpaste or a small bag of tomatoes. She’d tell you all the best ingredients to buy for certain dishes, even if you’ve told her multiple times all you knew how to cook were box mix pancakes and fried rice. And without failure, she would invite you over to her house after your grocery trip to show you how to cook a certain dish but all you’d do is admire how graciously she worked in the kitchen
⋆˙⟡♡ Each and every single time you were together, Alexia was always friendly, polite — always keeping a careful distance. But somehow, in every encounter, there was that one fleeting touch, one single moment, one look that just left you completely hooked.
Some days, it would be her hand lingering a moment too long on the small of your back or the side of your waist or sometimes even on your thigh, just long enough to send a shiver down your spine. Other times, it was the microglances—the quick, almost imperceptible glances she would steal toward your lips before quickly looking away. Occasionally, there were comments about your age, your looks, how she loved being around you — innocent enough on the surface, but with an undertone that made you question her intentions in saying them.
If you weren’t paying attention, you would have missed it entirely. But you always were. Every word she said, every glance, every touch was amplified and engraved in your mind. With Alexia, you were no longer just present—you were consumed. And you couldn’t get enough.
⋆˙⟡♡ Alexia had insisted you stay for a dinner and movie after you helped her unpack the groceries on her latest supermarket run, which you excitedly agreed to.
After dinner, you both settled onto the couch. She mentioned that a teammate had recommended the movie, but neither of you had any clue what it was about.
Soon enough, you realized it was a horror movie—a genre you weren’t exactly thrilled about, especially with how easily you jumped at every little thing. But you two were already invested in the story to change it to something else.
⋆˙⟡♡ Alexia quickly regretted trusting Patri's recommendation blindly. This definitely wasn’t the vibe she’d intended, but she decided to make the most of it.
Noticing your shivers, she glanced over. “Cold?”
You nodded, and she laughed softly, heading to her bedroom to grab a comforter. She set it over both of you, creating a cozy little nest on the couch.
As the suspense built, you found yourself sinking deeper into the blanket, resisting the urge to cover your eyes as things got scarier. Alexia chuckled, nudging you. “You’re such a baby,” she teased.
“This doesn’t scare you?” you asked, wide-eyed.
She shrugged. "No, not really, I get shocked sometimes but it's nothing too intense for me." She smiled at you. "And I guess, this is too scary for a little kid like you, huh?"
You pouted at her teasing. "Hey! You don't get to tease me when you made me watch a scary movie."
She chuckled, putting her hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay, no more teasing." She said. "If you're that scared, why don't you snuggle up here? I promise I don't bite."
You bit your lip and felt your heart beat faster. You nodded and scooted closer to her. Alexia put her arm around you as you rested your head on her chest.
There was a warmth to it, a sense of comfort that felt almost… domestic. Sitting there, wrapped in her arms after a casual evening of groceries and a shared meal, you felt the faint illusion of something more — something almost relationship-like.
Alexia never made any deliberate and overt actions to show you that she was interested in you in that manner but the fact that you two were hanging out basically every day, doing all these domestic errands, and now, cuddling... you couldn't help but delude yourself that maybe there could be something there. It had to mean something.
A few moments later, Alexia broke the silence. “Cariño, you still awake?” The endearment made your heart skip a beat. She's used it on you a few times before but without failure, it always made you flush.
You blinked and looked up at her, taking note of the proximity between the two of you. Her eyes were soft and warm as they looked back at you. "Yeah, I'm just comfy.” You hummed, comfortably. “Being near you helped me be less scared honestly.”
Alexia chuckled. You rested your head on her chest again and she started brushing your hair with her fingertips. It was so easy to get lost in how good it felt, but a small voice in the back of your mind warned that maybe this closeness meant nothing to her. Maybe she was like this with all her friends.
"You know you remind me of my teammate, Jana." Alexia suddenly said in the middle of the movie. "She's also around your age and whenever we watched scary movies, she'd cling on to me exactly like this."
It felt like confirmation of your own worries. You hummed in response, not sure what to say. Great, so I guess she is like this with all her friends.
"You should meet her. You'd get along. She's sweet." She continued.
You nodded. "Does she hang out here a lot?" You asked, trying to sound unaffected by the thought of someone else spending this much time with this woman you were crushing hard on.
"Yes, but more so when she was newer to the team." Alexia shared. "She's practically like my little sister so I felt like I had to take care of her. I'd always have her and my other younger teammates hang out here and watch movies during our downtimes. Sometimes, I feel like I raised them."
You just nodded again. You didn't know what was worse – your initial thought that maybe Alexia was interested in someone else or the fact that she was comparing you to someone she thought of as her little sister.
⋆˙⟡♡ “Had to take a late shift at the hospital. I’ll be home in the morning,” read the text from your aunt. You bit your lip, feeling a pang of unease at the thought of being alone in her big apartment all night after watching a scary movie.
Sure, Ruby would be there, but that dog was more of a scaredy cat than you were. If anything, she’d probably push you toward a demon just to save herself.
"You good?" Alexia asked as she noticed you still staring at your phone.
"Yeah, my aunt took another shift at the hospital so I'd be all alone at the apartment." Being home alone after watching Daniel Radcliffe get tormented by some vengeful ghost in a house all by himself was not exactly ideal.
Alexia raised an eyebrow. “Oh, you won’t be alone.” Her eyes sparkled mischievously. “You’ll be with the woman in black.”
“Alexia!” You playfully smacked her as she laughed. “Don’t joke like that—I’m actually terrified.”
“I’m just teasing,” she said with a smile, her tone softening. “But I won’t let you stay there alone, of course. Spend the night here. I’ll lend you something to wear.”
⋆˙⟡♡ You loved having Alexia's name on you. You took a glance at yourself wearing the old, red jersey you picked out from her cabinet. She told you that the jersey wasn’t exactly the most comfortable thing to sleep in but you insisted. What other chance would you get to snuggle up in a football superstar’s jersey.
"I still cannot believe you played for your country in the World Cup," You shared out loud. "When you first told me you played soccer, I genuinely thought you meant like casually or like not to that level."
Alexia chuckled, towel-drying her hair after coming out of the shower. “Didn’t want to brag, but… yes, I’ve represented the country,” she replied with a modest grin.
After finishing up, she climbed into bed and raised an eyebrow at you. “Are you planning to spend all night admiring yourself in my kit?” she teased, watching you look at yourself in the mirror.
You chuckled and made your way to her bed. You crawled under the covers and settled with a good distance between you and Alexia. She must have noticed because she commented. "Why are you so far? Are you leaving room for the woman in black?"
You grabbed a pillow and playfully smacked her. “Alexia, don’t make jokes about that! I’m still freaked out from that movie.”
“Alright, alright, no more ghost jokes,” she laughed. “But come closer; I don’t want you rolling off the bed.”
You bit your lip as you scooted toward her, feeling the warmth of her body beside you. Turning onto your side, you found yourself facing her, and she mirrored you, her eyes soft.
"Will I ever get to watch you play?" You asked in a soft voice.
Alexia nodded. "Of course, once the season starts, I'll have a ticket for you in every game." She smiled. "When are you leaving Barcelona again?"
You hummed in thought. "Well, since I plan to re-enroll in the next year, I have to be home before September next year."
Alexia nodded. "Well, that just means you get to watch me play a lot of games before you go home." She smiled warmly at you. "I would love to see you there in the crowd in a Barcelona jersey. You'd be so cute in blaugrana."
You blushed and smiled at the thought of it. "Is it okay if I don't know a thing about football?"
Alexia chuckled. “All you need to know is how to yell my name.” Her voice was laced with drowsiness. "I'd just love to have you there cheering for me. Promise that you'll cheer for me?"
You blushed, her words sending a thrill through you. "Of course, Alexia. I'll be the loudest one in the crowd." You promised.
Alexia smiled at your words as her eyes grew heavy.
You wanted so badly to tell her how much she made you feel—how the smallest gestures, the small teasing comments, and the way she looked at you left you craving more. You wanted to tell her how much you liked spending time with her and being around her. And, god, the thought of being this close to her in bed…
But you held back. Despite how sweet and attentive Alexia was, she never made her intentions clear. Was she spending time with you because she liked you, or did she just see you as a little sister figure? You couldn’t tell and you weren't willing to risk anything just yet.
Soon, Alexia's eyes began to flutter with drowsiness, and she drifted off to sleep. Your heart pounded, an ache in your chest as you resisted the urge to reach out and trace her face with your fingertips. But you stopped yourself, thinking it would be too intimate, too personal.
All you could do was watch her until sleep claimed you too.
⋆˙⟡♡ "So, tell me which girl in this damn apartment building are you playing hooky with?" Your aunt teasingly berated you over dinner. It's been a while since your aunt and you had dinner together with all the time she was spending working at the hospital and all that time you were spending with Alexia.
Your eyes widened. "Why would you think that?"
Your aunt hummed. "Well, cause just over a month ago, you spent most of the time whining to me about your fugly ex but now, you're doing the laundry every fucking day. You're walking Ruby so much that she's grown gigantic calf muscles. You’re running errands like a woman possessed, picking up random things from the supermarket.” She recounted. "Plus, the fact that you're doing all these errands in short sundresses and with blush and mascara..."
You immediately blushed, not expecting her to be so perceptive. “Why would you automatically assume I’m flirting with someone? I just… made a friend.” You said. It wasn’t exactly a lie. As much as you crush on Alexia, you never really made a move… and neither did she.
Your aunt hummed with satisfaction, clearly delighted by your reaction. “Well, tell me about your friend then! I’m not your mom—I won’t lecture you, but I am rooting for you. In fact, I’m all for hearing about your sex life!”
You threw your head back in laughter, amused by your aunt’s frankness. She joined you, but her curiosity didn’t seem to waver.
“I swear, I’m not interested in anyone like that." You tried to brush it off casually, but your aunt’s sharp eyes didn’t miss a thing. “I’m just learning a lot about the city with this lady from our building. She took me to some cafés and bakeries nearby. I can pick up some of these lovely croissants for you if you’d like.”
Your aunt hummed and raised an eyebrow, ignoring your lame attempt at deflecting the topic. "Well, I just gotta tell you that there are crazy folks living in this complex and I just want to make sure you're not falling for some rich wackjob."
You rolled your eyes in amusement. "Yeah, yeah, I'm pretty sure you're the only crazy, rich person here, Auntie.” You joked back at her.
She feigned offense, dramatically clutching her chest. “Absolutely not! These people make me look sane. Like, Alvaro down the hall? He has a creepy puppet collection worth thousands of euros! And that lady in apartment 309? Apparently, she nearly went to jail because she tried to, uh, cut off her husband’s—well, you get the picture.”
Your aunt went on and on listing down the quirks of the people who lived in your building.
Some of them were a tad weird but not really anything of concern. ("I heard that British girl one floor down is an esthetician and she bedazzles your genitals after she waxes it.")
Some... well, you just felt your aunt was making up to make you laugh. ("Some guy who lives here once made an offer in the elevator to sniff my feet in exchange for a thousand euros.")
You had a good laugh until a familiar name popped up. "Don't let me get started with that famous football girl on our floor, Alexia or Alexis or whatever. She and her fiancé used to fight so much. Literally, they'd even take it out on each other at the hallway — just yelling and throwing stuff. At some point, someone even called the police."
Your heart stopped. "The police?"
"Well, not the police but like... the building manager, which is basically the same thing to me." She shrugged at her own exaggeration. "I guess they made up or completely split up cause I don't hear fighting down the hall anymore. Either way, thank god."
You nodded, trying to keep your composure. You knew Alexia had past relationships but you didn't know about her being previously engaged; she never liked talking too much about herself, especially her past relationships.
But you couldn’t imagine the Alexia you spent so much time with being involved in a toxic relationship like that. She was always so calm and level-headed. Surely, it must have just been a mistake. Still, a nervous flutter settled in your stomach.
⋆˙⟡♡ You woke up in the middle of the night to Ruby pawing at you insistently. Blinking, still groggy from sleep, you muttered, "What is it, girl?"
She let out a low whining sound, the same sound she made when she had to poo. You cursed under your breath as you realized you forgot to take her out today for her daily potty.
Your aunt previously told you that the peckish dog only peed and hated pooping in litter boxes. Even when you tried to coax her into it, she refused, so every day, you would take her outside for a poop.
You never usually missed it since she would just do it during your walks with Alexia and Nala. But since Alexia has been busy for a while and couldn't see you, you had no energy to get out of bed.
It's only been a few days since you last saw Alexia yet you were already missing her badly. It also upset you that she didn't even give a reason for her sudden absence, just a curt text telling you she'd be too busy to hang out.
But, being upset over a neighbor's unavailability was no excuse to miss taking Ruby out on her daily poo.
"I'm so sorry, Ruby." You said as you sleepily fumbled out of bed. Throwing on a hoodie, you leashed her up, grabbed the potty pick up kit and headed to the hallway. "Let's go on a quick walk."
The second you stepped out, you heard laughter echoing down the hall. You rubbed your eyes as you looked over to the source of the sound. That's when you saw Alexia stumbling to her door, wearing a fitted, backless black dress, arm-in-arm with a taller girl with dark hair whose arms were covered in tattoos. They were swaying, giggling, obviously drunk.
You couldn't recognize the girl Alexia was with but to be fair, Alexia never talked much about her friends or her dating history. But from what you could observe right now, it was obvious that there was something between the two.
You cursed under your breath as you saw them drunkenly stumble towards Alexia's door. You considered going back inside your aunt's place but just as you tried to, Ruby let out a small bark, as if to tell you to hurry up.
"Alright, alright," You whispered to the demanding dog as you made your way to the elevator —too close to Alexia’s apartment for comfort.
Despite your best attempts at stealth, Ruby was too big and enthusiastic to go unnoticed.
“Espera, espera,” Alexia’s voice rang out as she noticed you, her lips curving into a smile. “¿Ets tu, guapa?”
You could tell from the volume and slur of her voice that she had way too much to drink. You shyly waved but didn't say anything. You prayed the elevator would come faster.
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw how close this tall girl was to Alexia, her arm lingering around Alexia’s waist. There was an ease between them, a familiarity that made your stomach twist.
Alexia called out to you one last time, gesturing for you to come over, but you just pointed to Ruby as an excuse and mouthed, “Can’t.” She let out an exaggerated sigh, rolling her eyes before turning back to her door.
Just as she was about the enter her apartment, you heard the tattooed girl ask Alexia who you were. “¿Y esa chica, quién es?”
"Ah, just some clingy kid who hangs around..." Her voice trailed off as the two entered the apartment but it was all you had to hear.
You really were just some kid to her.
⋆˙⟡♡ You were upset about the whole encounter you had with drunken Alexia for about a week. You shifted your whole errand schedule to avoid her. You started walking Ruby late at night. You did your laundry very early in the morning, too early for anyone to actually get up and wash their clothes. Whenever she texted you, you'd ignore it or give her a curt response, telling her you were too busy or feeling unwell. You basically wanted to avoid Alexia at all costs.
⋆˙⟡♡ On the other hand, your best friend from back home was spam-texting you, pestering you about updating her with your "new, exciting life in Barcelona."
Sadly, you had nothing to update her on.
What would you even say? Oh, it's great, just started yearning for some thirty-year-old who lives down the hall who might be hooking up with some hot, tall, tattooed vixen who I could never amount to... so now, I'm avoiding her cause I don't want my feelings hurt. So, yeah it's been great!
You didn't want to come back home with stories about how you flew all the way to Barcelona just to be upset over another girl. So, you decided that you've had enough of bedrotting with Ruby all day. You were going out to have fun on a Friday night.
You tried to rewind your mindset to just before you met Alexia — determined to forget a girl by finding another girl to mess around with.
You put on a black leather bralette with a very short skort that showed a sliver of your butt cheeks. You went all out with the make-up and hair. You were determined to get laid tonight... or at the very least, find someone to kiss.
⋆˙⟡♡ That night, you found yourself at a packed lesbian bar. The place was already buzzing when you walked in, but you didn’t mind—it only meant more eyes on you.
You didn’t even need to drink to feel the rush of confidence. The playful glances from the other women were enough to make you feel like the center of attention. You could tell they were eyeing you, sizing you up, and enjoying the sight of a fresh, hot girl in the crowd.
What you didn’t know was that as soon as you made your way to the counter, several girls were already trying to figure out the best way to approach you and offer to buy you a drink.
But it was one girl who beat them to it. She was a brunette with lightly tanned skin, defined eyebrows, and a smile that was radiant and inviting. As soon you approached the counter, she slid in before you, leaning in with that playful, confident grin. “¿Te puedo invitar a un trago?”
You couldn’t help but blush, a sly smile tugging at your lips as you looked her up and down. She was taller than you and wore a casual outfit—just a simple white shirt and pants, but she pulled it off effortlessly. “Did you just ask me in Catalan to buy me a drink?”
The brunette chuckled and shook her head, quickly understanding that you were a foreigner. "Spanish, actually." She extended her hand to introduce herself. "Patri."
You smiled back at the girl and shook her hand. "I'll take that drink, Patri."
⋆˙⟡♡ A few drinks later, you were laughing louder than you intended at all the jokes Patri made, and finding every excuse to touch her whenever you spoke. You were getting more and more tipsy, but you didn’t mind it—this was exactly what you wanted. Tonight was about fun, and you were determined to get what you came for.
“Why is every girl in Barcelona a soccer player?” you asked, laughing a little too loudly when she casually mentioned she played football.
Patri just chuckled, clearly amused by your question. “Football is huge here. A lot of people play it for fun, like, recreationally…” she said, playing it humble. “But I actually play professionally for a decent club."
You raised an eyebrow, your fingers lightly grazing her upper arm as you spoke. “Then I must be lucky to have such a famous football player buying me drinks.”
Tugging at Patri's ego seemed to work because she inched towards you and put a hand on your waist. "Yeah?" The footballer asked.
You batted your eyelashes and bit your lip as you nodded. "Yeah..." You intentionally averted your gaze to her lips, silently daring her to make the first move.
Patri didn’t need any more encouragement. She stepped closer, leaning in to close the gap between you, her lips almost on yours.
“Ey, Patri!”
A groan escaped Patri’s lips as she pulled back, her eyes apologizing before she turned toward the sound of the voice. You turned as well, curiosity piquing when you saw who was interrupting your moment... only to be met by the sight of Alexia. ⋆˙⟡♡ You should have figured it out yourself that Patri and Alexia were teammates but you were too focused on the goal of flirting that it didn’t even cross your mind. If only you knew, you would have picked any other girl to flirt with.
⋆˙⟡♡ Patri introduced you to her teammates who had just arrived — Mapi, Ingrid, Kika, and of course... Alexia Putellas. They all greeted you warmly, save for Alexia who had a stoic look on her face. She didn't react, didn't make it known to her teammates that she already knew you. She just stayed silent, her jaw clenched.
You got to know all of them. They were all very welcoming and they all seemed proud of Patri for bagging you. At one point, you caught Mapi whispering to Patri something in Spanish but all you could catch was the part when she said something about how pretty you were. Ingrid also complimented you a lot, even touching the details of your leather outfit. It was an ego boost, for sure, getting all these famous footballers to gush about you.
The entire time, Alexia stood silently, either averting your gaze or ordering more drinks. You decided that if she wasn't going to address you, you weren't going to address her. Two could play at that game.
⋆˙⟡♡ You enjoyed being with Patri — her firm body dancing against yours, the heat of her presence, the way she made you laugh and smile effortlessly. She was hot, confident, and didn't shy away from showing her attraction to you. It was easy to get lost in the moment with her, the music pulsing around you, her hands on your hips as you danced together.
But what turned you on the most was the fact that Alexia was watching you the entire time. From the corner of your eye, you could see her—standing by the bar, drink in hand, watching you with a gaze that was far too intense to be accidental. ⋆˙⟡♡ As the night wore on and the alcohol took hold, Alexia stopped pretending she wasn't watching, her eyes locked on you the entire time you danced with Patri, not caring for any more subtlety. It was intimidating but it also felt like a challenge, as if testing you as to how far you’d go while she was watching.
⋆˙⟡♡ The contrast of it all was so electrifying — Patri's impossible closeness with her body pressed against yours and her hands wandering all over your body, and Alexia standing several feet away from you with eyes that never departed you.
You had been avoiding her gaze the entire night. It just felt too intense for you to handle but after another tequila shot that Patri so gladly poured down your mouth, you finally gained the courage to lock eyes with her as you pressed your backside against Patri's front, grinding seductively.
Alexia's stare was firm and unmoving; it was almost unreadable. Anger? Disbelief? Annoyance? Disgust? You had no fucking clue. Her eyes narrowed at you two as Patri spun you around and held you closer to her, practically exchanging breaths. Alexia downed her whiskey as she rolled her eyes, turning around towards the counter to order another.
⋆˙⟡♡ "I just need to have you," Patri whispered drunken sweet nothings into your ears as her hands got busy, mostly gripping your waist and hips.
The two of you had made way to a more private corner where you two could be more intimate and apart from the rowdy dance floor.
Patri pressed a kiss on the side of your jaw. It was firm enough for you to react but gentle enough to let you know she was testing out the waters. Seeing your reaction, Patri smirked and cursed under her breath as she saw your eyes fluttering under her touch.
⋆˙⟡♡ Alexia watched it all unfold. The alcohol was making her more irritable than she normally was. As soon as she saw Patri plant her lips on you, she felt the jealousy rush through her body. No fucking way, she thought. No fucking way Patri gets to kiss her before I do.
Before you two could proceed any further, Alexia put down her glass and stomped her way to you, not giving a fuck about the people she was bumping and pushing away as she did.
When she got to you, she didn't hesitate. She grabbed your arm and pulled you away from Patri without bothering to say a single word to either of you. Your drunken state couldn't process what was happening immediately.
"What the fuck?" It was all you could say. You turned desperately to look at Patri who looked just as dumbfounded as you. You tried to halt but Alexia's grip was so strong that even when you tried to stop, she was able to drag your weight.
⋆˙⟡♡ You finally stopped where Alexia's car was parked and you frowned. "I'm not getting in with you, Alexia! You're drunk!" You said in almost a shout. "And I can't drive for shit so we're not going anywhere! I'm going back to Patr—"
Suddenly, Alexia's lips came crashing onto yours, shutting you up. She pressed your body against the cool surface of her car. Her hand made its way to your waist as she kissed you desperately, thirstily.
It didn't take long for you to reciprocate with your hands snaking to the side of her neck, kissing her as if you wanted to completely devour her. You moaned as you felt Alexia's tongue enter your mouth and as her hand lowered from your waist to your ass. Whatever apprehension or complaint you had from being pulled away from Patri was gone. This kiss was something you've been wanting, craving, needing for weeks
Alexia ended the kiss as abruptly as she started it. She kept one hand on her vehicle and the other on your waist as she pulled away slightly — her eyes piercing yours with an intensely hungry stare.
"Get in the car." She ordered in a deep, raspy voice and you had no choice but to say yes.
⋆˙⟡♡ You spent the first few minutes silent. You didn't know what to say. You wanted to feel frustrated about her pulling you away from Patri, who had been genuinely nice and accommodating. You wanted to shout at her and tell her off for drunk driving. You just had so much going through your mind that it was becoming static.
"You've been avoiding me," She broke the silence. "Don't try to deny it because I know you have."
You stayed quiet, trying to find a retort but all your mind could fixate on was the fact that she was driving right now. "You're drunk driving."
"Who gives a fuck? We live ten minutes away." She groaned and rolled her eyes. You could see her knuckles turn white as she gripped the wheels tighter with frustration. "See? That's our fucking building complex. You happy?"
You huffed, startled by the out-of-character outburst from the older woman. Alexia was usually so level-headed and calm. You never once saw her this frustrated. Suddenly, you remembered your aunt's short anecdote about Alexia and her fiancé fighting.
Maybe this was that version of Alexia.
⋆˙⟡♡ "Are you just going to keep ignoring me?" Alexia hissed out as you two made your way from the basement parking lot to the apartment elevator.
You stayed silent. Alexia groaned in frustration as she ran a hand through her blonde hair. You were starting to sober up now, not by much but enough to tell that Alexia was absolutely wasted. You could smell the heavy scent of smokey whiskey linger on her breath.
In frustration, once you two got in the elevator, Alexia cornered you. She looked down on you, towering over you. "Do I have to corner you every time I want to talk to you, huh?"
You rolled your eyes. "Why would you wanna talk to me? We're not friends."
Alexia's demeanor went from angry to disappointed. "Then what was all that hanging out everyday about? All that pretending you have to immediately go wash two pairs of pants just so you could be with me and do laundry? Cuddling up to me on the couch? Was that nothing?" She asked with a voice laced with frustration.
You bit your lip and looked down, feeling partly ashamed and upset she had caught up with what you were doing. You knew you were being obvious with making up excuses to see her but you thought that Alexia never seemed to mind... well, until you heard what she said about you that night.
Alexia sighed. Seeing you suddenly get upset just softened her. She put her arms down and instead, gently reached out to you to put a lock of hair behind your ear. The same hand cupped the side of your face. "Look at me."
You slowly and carefully looked up to the taller girl. In this proximity, all you could focus on were the tiny beautiful details on her face — her subtle smile lines around her eyes, the small freckles on her face, the golden specks in her eyes. You wanted to give in so bad but you just felt it was unfair of her to be demanding you explain to her why you've been avoiding her when she hasn't exactly been clear about how she felt about you.
“Please tell me, cariño.” She said in a hushed voice. “Why don’t you want to be around me anymore?”
"Why does it matter that I've been avoiding you?" You muttered in frustration. "I'm just some clingy kid to you, aren't I?"
As if on cue, the doors to the elevator opened to your floor. You gently pushed Alexia aside and walked away. You were barely a step out of the elevator when Alexia grabbed you. She spun you around and her lips were on you again.
Your fists were balled up, ready to protest and push her away. You wanted to demand she be honest with you; you wanted to know why she was being all nice and close to her when you were alone together but calling you "a clingy kid" around some other hot girl.
But your body wanted Alexia more than you wanted clarity. And so, your fists unclenched, your body fell limp in her arms, your mouth parted to allow her to deepen her kiss... and you completely gave in.
⋆˙⟡♡ It felt like Alexia and you were playing a game of who can keep their mouth on the other as you undressed.
You continued to make out as you messily and brashly entered her apartment. She basically slapped the walls blindly to turn on the light switches and just dropped her car keys on the floor. She didn't give a fuck. Alexia was selfish with your kisses and didn't want anything else to take her attention from the way you were kissing her.
But this slow stumbling to her bedroom was not her taste and it was distracting to her. So naturally, the blonde girl put her arms on the back of your legs before lifting you up to carry to her bedroom.
You didn't want to lose this game either. You continued to kiss her as you wrapped your legs around her, holding on to her tightly.
She gently laid you down on her bed before taking off her top, revealing her bare chest. She was so attractive and you wanted to feel every inch of her skin under your fingertips. You bit your lip as you desperately kicked off your shoes before pulling her again towards you, wanting more.
"Fuck, I've wanted to do this for so long." She muttered in between kisses as she pulled your leather skort off. You couldn't get a response out as you were too overstimulated by everything that was happening but the desperation behind your kisses could easily be felt by the older woman without you having to say anything.
Alexia's hands gracefully unzipped your bralette top and shrugged it off your body. She cursed under her breath as she gazed at your breasts, taking them in her hands.
"Fuck, been fantasizing about these perfect tits since I met you." She hummed before taking an erect nipple into her mouth, sucking and licking on it. You moaned out loud and bucked your hips as she continued to pleasure your chest with her mouth.
Alexia held your hips down before pressing two digits against your soaked underwear. She hummed in delight. "Since when was this?"
"Huh?"
She smirked. "I meant, who made you this wet tonight? Me or Patri?"
Apparently, you took too long to answer because she violently pressed two fingers against your soaking, clothed cunt.
"F-fuck, Alexia." You exclaimed as you felt her rub slow but firm circles around your clit. You arched your hips again, desperately wanting to be touched more by Alexia. "I want you inside, please."
Alexia hushed you, keeping a steady yet painfully slow pace. "You think I'd give it away to you so easily after you ignore me and then basically dryhump one of my closest friends in front of me, huh?"
You whimpered, feeling desperate. "Alexia, please, please."
She smirked at the sight of you squirming underneath her, begging to be filled by her. "Then answer me." She ordered.
You felt her press harder, making you moan out again. "Alexia, you did. You made me this wet. Alexia, please." You blubbered out in a pathetic string of desperation. "It was all you. Only you.”
Alexia smiled and leaned into your ear. "Good girl."
With a swift motion, Alexia pushed your panties to the side and began firmly massaging circles against your wet clit. You moaned out loud, feeling yourself warm up in pleasure.
As Alexia quickened her pace and as her mouth found its way back to your hardened nipples, you felt yourself getting close to an orgasm but it felt so unsatisfying without being filled by her. You moaned out. "Alexia, I need you inside please."
You clenched around nothing as Alexia continued to rub against you. You felt your frustration grow. "Alexia, inside please." You whimpered, writhing underneath her.
"Shh, you're so impatient." Alexia scolded. "But since you look so desperate for it..."
Alexia pulled your panties off effortlessly before she let her fingers sink deep into you. You gasped at the sudden thrust of her fingers inside you. She smirked, watching your eyes roll to the back of your head in pleasure. You shut your eyes as you gyrated your hips against her slow-thrusting fingers. You cursed out loud, feeling Alexia carefully curl her fingers to test out your sensitive spots. Her fingers were much longer than yours were and she was making you feel more pleasure than you could ever feel all alone.
Alexia started picking up the pace, thrusting her fingers in and out of you. She cursed when you started moaning out loud and felt your fingers tighten around her two digits. She started to thrust faster, then harder, and now she was curling her fingers with every inward thrust.
She loved watching you undo under her touch. She loved your moans, the feeling of you clenched around her fingers, the way your face contorted in pleasure, the way your boobs bounced with her every thrust... you were a sensory delight to her.
"Alexia, oh my fuck..." You exclaimed as you felt her pound her fingers against you. The sound of your slick and your heavy breathing filled the room as Alexia steadily fucked you to the point of not being able to think about anything else but the feeling of her fingers inside you.
Alexia leaned next to your face and planted small kisses in between catching her breath. "I've wanted to fuck this tight pussy since I saw you." She said against your ear. "You looked so cute in that sundress."
You moaned again, gripping Alexia's bare back. "Alexia, faster, please."
Alexia pressed a kiss against your jaw before opening her mouth to leave sloppy kisses on your neck that you were sure would leave marks in the morning. She picked up the pace even more, making you shout out her name as you felt the pleasure ripple throughout your body.
"Fuck, I'm so close." You moaned out. "Oh my god."
"Scream my name, cariño." She whispered with heavy pants.
Then, you felt your orgasm rip through you, leaving you shaking under her. "Alexia!" You shouted out as you let yourself arch your back in the intense pleasure.
Alexia let you ride out your orgasm before slowly pulling out her fingers. She smiled at you warmly before using her thumb to part your lips open. As you did, she stuck her two wet fingers down your mouth. "Suck me dry, cariño."
You enthusiastically sucked on her fingers, making sure to lick and suck all of your cum off of it. The entire time, you made eye contact with Alexia who was biting her lip and cursing under her breath.
The sight of you taking her long fingers in your warm mouth was making her wet. And, god, the wet sloppy sounds paired with the sensation of your mouth wrapped around them… She cursed under her breath before she pulled her fingers out. You looked at her confused as she made her way to her cabinet, rummaging for something in one of the drawers.
That's when she pulled out a large, transparent dildo attached to a harness. You bit your lip as you watched Alexia put it on her bare body.
Your eyes finally got the chance to admire her more this time. You looked at her muscular figure, her long legs, her firm ass, and of course, her abs. You've never seen someone with abs as glorious as hers before. You wanted to moan out loud at just the sight of her. She was hotter naked than you ever imagined.
"Checking me out, cariño?" She teased as she adjusted the harness.
You bit your lip and nodded. She chuckled, feeling elated by the fact that she could see you get wet again just with the sight of her naked body.
"Well, you can do that on your knees, no?" She asked.
⋆˙⟡♡ Watching you suck her fingers wasn't enough for Alexia, she wanted to watch you take her entire strap in your mouth. She wanted to see you struggle to take its entire length.
"Open wide, pretty." She said in a low voice as she took her thumb again to part your mouth. The sight of you kneeling in front of her with wide, pleading eyes paired with an angle where she could perfectly see your tits... it just made her want to fuck it with being gentle and take your head and use your mouth to fuck her strap with.
But she still tried to be gentle with you. Letting you take in the tip between your lips before gently pushing your head towards her to take in the entire length. You almost gagged at one point but you quickly adjusted to having her length in your mouth.
When you took in the entire length, Alexia moaned out loud at the sight. "Fuck, suck me off, cariño."
You obeyed and started slowly moving your head as you sucked. You looked up at the older woman who had her bottom lip tucked between her teeth as she held your head steady. “Yeah, just like that.” She grunted out. “You look so pretty taking me in like that.” The silicone stifled your moan when you finally got a whiff of her alluring musk. You couldn't see under the harness but you were sure Alexia was dripping wet herself.
Alexia grew impatient. “Cariño, tap my leg if it hurts, yeah?" She warned you and you just nodded.
She smirked before firmly grabbing onto your head as she began slowly thrusting into your mouth. When you felt the strap hit the back of your throat, you gagged and felt tears form in your eyes, making Alexia even wetter at the sight of it. "You look so cute, cariño." She grunted out breathlessly.
The base of the dildo was hitting Alexia's clit every time she thrust into your mouth, driving her close to an orgasm. It felt so good watching you suck her strap off while feeling it all on her clit. She moaned as she kept thrusting your head against the entire length, wanting to feel more of the sensation.
She moaned out in a low voice and threw her head back. The sight of her — with her eyes shut and her muscles clenched — as she used your mouth to fuck herself left you dripping on to Alexia's bedroom floor. Finally, you felt Alexia tense up before finally cumming.
"Good job, baby." She said before guiding your mouth open to take the dildo out, a string of saliva forming from your mouth to the silicone member. She bent down to your height and captured your lips in a kiss. "You did so well. You took me in your mouth so well."
Her compliments filled you with so much warmth. You continued to kiss her, wrapping your arm around her neck. Effortlessly, Alexia lifted you up again and laid you down on the bed.
She planted a gentle kiss on the side of your head before whispering. "Think you can handle my strap inside of you?"
You didn't even have to think twice about it.
⋆˙⟡♡ Alexia never was an impatient lover in bed but everything about you made her feral, wanting to fuck you fast and hard just so she can watch you unravel before her over and over again.
Something about the way you orgasmed was addicting for her to watch. She loved watching your body clench, your mouth open wide in pleasure as you moan and whimper and scream her name. It was addicting for her.
Despite that, she still wanted to focus on your pleasure instead of fulfilling her own desires of seeing you cum several times — one after the other — under her.
She watched your pussy slowly take in her entire length as she slowly pushed it inside. It didn't take long until she thrust the entire length inside you, the strap disappearing from her sight. She cursed under her breath as you wriggled and whimpered underneath her as you felt her huge strap completely split you open. She bit her lip as she slowly began to thrust in and out of you.
You were exactly as she fantasized in bed — obedient, submissive, and loud. And god, you were so gorgeous when you were being fucked. She leaned in again to capture your swollen lips into a short kiss before she focused again on fucking you with her strap.
Your moans and whimpers were a symphony to her ears. She felt like she could cum just hearing you absolutely get wrecked by her.
You couldn't control the volume of your voice. Alexia was extremely skilled in bed. Her thrusts were fast and hard but incredibly precise, pressing against your sensitive spot with every push she did inside you. There was too much pleasure rippling through your body to give a fuck about the neighbor's hearing.
And you just couldn't stop moaning out her name. It felt so good in your mouth to say it over and over again.
"Yeah, keep moaning out for me, cariño," Alexia said as she picked up the pace of her thrusts.
You felt a tad of pain as she became rougher with her thrusts but it was a good kind of pain. Alexia grunted as she held on to your waist with her hands.
It didn't take long until your pussy was clenching around her strap and you were practically shaking as your orgasm built up for the second time that night.
"You're all mine," Alexia slurred out in between heavy breathing. "This pussy is only mine."
You moaned out in agreement. "Yes, Alexia, yours. I'm yours."
With one strong thrust, you came undone. You screamed out her name again for the nth time before falling limp underneath her. Alexia pulled out and gave you a kiss.
You couldn't find the energy or brain power to speak. So, you just held Alexia close, your heavy breathing synchronizing with each other. You sighed.
You just knew then and there that you've fallen hard for Alexia Putellas.
⋆˙⟡♡ You woke up to an empty bed, blinking a few times as the soreness in your body set in. You groaned, stretching, and only then did you realize you were still naked. Flushing, you glanced around, noticing Alexia must be in the kitchen from the faint sounds of cooking.
Quickly, you found your underwear on the floor and pulled it on, then grabbed one of Alexia’s football shirts from her closet to slip into.
With a soft smile, you tiptoed over to her and wrapped your arms around her waist from behind. “Good morning,” you murmured.
She chuckled, “Careful, cariño. Sneak up on me like that, and I’ll cut my finger instead of this tomato.”
You hummed, ignoring her and just hugging her tighter. "Breakfast?"
She laughed. "I think someone enjoyed last night way too much to realize it's already noon." She smiled. "This is already lunch."
You blushed and let go of Alexia, getting out of the way of her cooking. You sat down on the counter and watched her do her thing in the kitchen. She looked like she already got up and took a bath as she was wearing new clothes.
"You took a bath without me?" You jokingly asked with feigned disappointment and a pout.
Alexia smirked. "Sorry, I couldn't stand the thought of waking you up when you looked so pretty sleeping naked in my bed. I'll be sure to invite you to join me next time." She glanced at you again, realizing you were wearing another one of her older Barça shirts. "Hmm, you seem to like wearing my kits, huh?"
You smiled. "Love your name on me."
Alexia's lips curled into a smile before giving you a peck on the lips. "You can have it. I just love seeing it on you," She set down the cooking supplies and leaned in to give you a deeper kiss. "But I love seeing me inside you more."
You playfully smacked her arm. She continued to cook as you picked on the leftover tomatoes on the cutting board to snack on them.
You hummed playfully. "So, Ale..." You started.
"Hmm?" She replied, focusing on cooking.
"So... last night you said you thought about fucking me when you first saw me..." You brought up with a playful smirk.
Alexia chuckled. "Your turn to tease me, huh?"
"I'm just asking."
"Well, of course, I did..." She responded. "Couldn't stop thinking of your little lace undies."
You blushed, recalling how you fell on your face and exposed yourself to her. "Hey, you're teasing me now again."
She laughed, stirring the sauce. “You’re just easy and fun to tease.” As she finished, she dished up two plates of pasta, setting them on the table.
"Hmm, then what was all that 'you're so young' and 'you remind me of my little sister figure' talk about." You brought it up, casually.
Alexia hummed as she placed a healthy portion of food on two plates. She placed it on the dining table, contemplating your question. She finally headed up to you, taking your hand and leading you to the dining table.
As she sat, she took a deep breath. "Well... I didn't want to scare you off just in case you weren't into me." She said. "And... I guess I was trying to remind myself that you were — I mean, you are — too young for me."
You hummed, giving her a reassuring smile. “Our age gap isn’t that big, you know. I’m an adult.” You reassured her and partly, yourself.
She smiled gently but shrugged. “I know, but we’re in different stages of our lives, you know? It made me hesitate.” She explained.
You nodded, feeling her words sink in. After a pause, you asked. “And with that tattooed girl… why’d you call me a ‘clingy little kid’ that night?”
Alexia’s face grew serious. “That was just a dumb mistake." She said, pausing to use a paper towel to wipe her mouth. "I was drunk, and I was with my ex—I hadn’t seen her in a long time. I didn’t think about how it would make you feel if you heard it."
“Oh… was that your ex-fiancée?” You asked cautiously.
Alexia shook her head. “No, no, my ex-fiancée and I would never hang out." She chuckled. "That was Jenni. We’re good friends and we were just catching up after not seeing each other for long... but yeah… I was stupid. I shouldn’t have said that.”
You nodded slowly, a lot of questions swirling in your mind—questions about her past, what last night meant, if your age still bothered her. But you decided to let it go, not wanting to ruin the moment.
⋆˙⟡♡ "You ghosted me for a month and now, you're telling me that you're dating a pro soccer player?" Your best friend Ashley shouted over FaceTime. "Are you nuts?!"
You hushed her as you stood from your bed to shut the door. "My aunt is right outside my room."
"Who cares? She's cool and probably would be gushing with me right now if she knew!" Ashley exclaimed.
You chuckled. "Just shhh. I haven't told anyone about Alexia cause we aren't really dating."
Ash's face fell in shock. "Huh? Then what are you doing?"
You sighed before going on to tell her the whole story — the day you fell in front of her, the grocery runs, the night you saw her with Jenni, the night at the club, and of course, last night when you slept together. Ash was practically exclaiming and shouting every other minute in shock and excitement.
"Okay, okay, girl, I just looked her up and hot damn, you're telling me you slept with THAT?" Ash pointed her phone camera to her MacBook screen which displayed a photo of Alexia celebrating in her sports bra during a football match.
You chuckled. "Oh... Ash, her abs... they were so firm and hot up close. I felt like I was going crazy."
The two of you geeked over how hot Alexia was for a few minutes before calming down. Ashley sighed. "But babe, like, I want you to be careful still cause like... she hasn't really said that she likes you yet, right?"
You blinked and thought about it and realized Ashley seemed to be right. She did say she wanted you and she did say you were "all hers" in bed and that she thought about you sexually from the moment you met... but there were no explicit mentions of her feelings.
"Hmm, yeah, I could read from your expression that she hasn't..." Ash commented. "I know she's sweet and fun but just be cautious, okay? I can't afford to lose my best friend to another gap year cause of another heartbreak." She joked.
You chuckled weakly. "No, no, I mean, I'm taking it slow. I'm not that invested yet." You lied. You were pretty much all in with Alexia at this point.
Ashley nodded. "Okay, that's good. Just enjoy having fun with your older woman but just be careful. Okay, babes?"
You sighed and nodded. "Yeah, of course."
Ash hummed and stayed silent for a beat before asking, "So... about this Patri girl, I just googled her too, and wow..."
You chuckled and continued bantering with Ashley, trying to push your insecurities to the back of your head.
⋆˙⟡♡ You woke up to your phone ringing. You blinked your eyes open and took a glance at the phone. "Hmmm," You groaned out before answering. "Yeah?"
It was Alexia.
"Cariño, come over, please." Her voice was low and sultry. You hummed into the phone mic, sleepily. Alexia chuckled at the sound of it. "Aw, did I wake you up, my love? I'm so sorry."
"Hmm, yeah. Is everything okay?" You mumbled out.
She had a short chuckle. "I just need to taste you, cariño. I need you so bad." Her voice came out in a needy, low tone that made your insides churn.
You took a deep breath and blinked the remaining sleepiness away. "Okay, I'll just get dressed up." You said with a yawn. "I'm still in my pajamas."
"No, baby, I'm undressing you anyway. Just come over, cariño." She begged. You smiled at the sound of her voice; she sounded so desperate and needy.
"Okay, got it." You chuckled.
⋆˙⟡♡ Alexia wasn't lying because as soon as you entered her apartment, your clothes were practically off your body and on the floor.
Alexia had pinned you against the front door, too impatient to even take you to her bedroom. You watched the blonde woman kneel in front of you as she pressed her mouth on your core, licking and flicking her tongue against the most sensitive part of your clit.
You grabbed her head and rocked your hips against her mouth, making Alexia hum in pleasure. She spread her tongue flat against your wetness, taking it all in before focusing again on your clit.
"Fuck, I could do this everyday." You muttered out.
⋆˙⟡♡ And you did do it... almost every day.
It could be early in the morning, in the middle of the day, or even late at night. Alexia would text you and you always found your way to her bed... or her couch, or her floor, her shower, her kitchen counter, her table. You two fucked so much that you felt like you were losing brain cells with how she left you so mind-fucked every time.
⋆˙⟡♡ On more than one occasion, you wanted to bring up your feelings for Alexia and how you wanted more than just sex out of your relationship but you always chickened out.
You figured you could talk about it some other time.
⋆˙⟡♡ Yet, the opportunity never really arose. Whenever you two were together, nothing seemed to leave your lips except her name and a string of incoherent moans. It was fun and exciting but sometimes, it also left you feeling insecure about your place in her life.
⋆˙⟡♡ "Look who's back home at 5 in the morning," Your aunt jokingly tutted her tongue as she watched you enter the apartment in clothes you borrowed from Alexia. You thanked heavens you didn't wear one of her kits with her name on it or else, you would have been figured out. "And is it safe to assume you didn't come from the grocery with that heavy cream I asked to buy you two days ago?"
You blushed as you saw your aunt judging you as she sipped her morning coffee. "Hi, Aunty..." You said softly. "I can go get that later once the supermarket opens. I'm sorry I totally forgot about it."
She shook her head. "How did you go from doing all the errands like a maniac to doing none of it?" She joked. "See, I don't mind that you're running around with some girl... clearly, it's making you happy."
You bit your lip and tucked a hair behind your ear. She continued, "Just make sure you're doing errands like you agreed to, or else I'm shipping you back to your momma."
You nodded. "Sorry, auntie."
⋆˙⟡♡ "Come over, cariño 😚" The message notification popped up on the top of your screen as you were reading the list of things your aunt wanted you to pick up from the grocery.
You sighed and texted Alexia, telling her you had to do some errands. You smirked as you read her reply. "Okay, I'll drive you there only if you agree to ride my face later."
You rolled your eyes and chuckled.
⋆˙⟡♡ Alexia had her hand on your thigh as she drove to the nearby supermarket, gently feeling your skin as she moved it up and down your thigh.
"Alexia, if you keep doing that, we won't end up getting the groceries." You said as you held her hand steady on your thigh. She smirked at you and said, "I'm fine with that."
You chuckled and ignored her.
⋆˙⟡♡ Alexia couldn't get her hands off of you. She'd have her hands on your waist as you tried to get stuff from the shelves. She would kiss you on the cheek randomly. Even as you were pushing the cart, she would have her body pressed behind you, resting her head on your shoulder as you pushed the cart together.
Thankfully, there weren't many people but the people who were there were taking notice of how clingy and affectionate Alexia was being.
"Cariño, you smell so good. I wanna smell you all over and put my face against your..." Alexia whispered in your ear as she rested her head on your shoulder. You playfully elbowed her and swatted her away.
"Ale, people can hear you." You said with an eye roll.
She hummed as she pressed her lips against your ear. "Baby, I just want you so bad. I don't care if anyone hears about how much I want to..."
"Alexia?" A voice from the far end of the aisle called. Alexia practically jumped away from you as soon as you two heard the voice. You turned your attention to the tall, blonde girl at the end of the aisle.
Alexia cursed under her breath but raised her hand to greet the girl who came walking towards you. "Frido, hey." Alexia greeted, straightening herself up. "What's up?"
The tall girl hugged Alexia and then turned her attention to you. "And who is this pretty girl you're with, Alexia?" She smiled at you before turning to Alexia with raised eyebrows.
Alexia looked at you with a panicked expression before turning back to Frido. "Oh, she's my neighbor. I gave her a ride to the grocery." She explained before changing the topic. "And who are you here with?"
Alexia and the taller girl, who you inferred was a teammate, started chatting a bit more but all you could think about was how Alexia introduced you
⋆˙⟡♡ After you loaded her car with groceries, you immediately headed to the passenger seat and slammed the door behind you.
Alexia had taken notice of your change in demeanor. She entered the car and looked at you with a confused look. "Why are you mad?"
You hummed and ignored her. She sighed and began driving. She tried to put a hand on your thigh but you swatted her away, which seemed to piss her off.
"What's your problem?" She snapped.
"I don't know, maybe neighbors just don't touch each other's thighs like that." You retorted, annoyed.
Alexia groaned. "Don't tell me you're mad at me because of that."
"Why wouldn't I be mad, Alexia?" You responded with a raised voice. "You and I have been fucking for weeks. We cuddle. We have dinner. We kiss and fuck and spend so much time together. Not to mention that before all that, we were already practically together all the time... and I'm just your neighbor?"
Alexia's eyebrows furrowed together. "I don't see the big deal. Frido's my co-worker and I just don't feel like airing out my sex life randomly to people I work with."
You groaned. "Don't you get it? You don't need to tell people we're fucking. You can just say we're dating, seeing each other... I don't know. Even just calling me your friend is better than being called your neighbor."
Alexia clenched her jaw and shook her head in disbelief. "This is the problem with dating younger girls..." She muttered under her breath.
This just drove you over the edge. "What does my age have to do with this?" You shouted as you glared at her. "Last time I checked, you were the one who said our age difference didn't matter to you."
Alexia groaned. "You're just being so immature. Why does it matter so much what I said to Frido? She's just my co-worker. Of course, if some other girl came over to flirt with me, I'd say I'm seeing someone already. That's when the distinction matters."
"How would you react if someone I knew from school came over and I just called you my neighbor?" You retorted.
"I wouldn't give a fuck," She responded. "Cause I'm mature enough to know it doesn't matter."
You snapped. "Well, maybe that's cause you don't actually care about me." You could feel your voice crack as you said it but you stopped yourself from getting emotional.
Alexia groaned and grew more exasperated. "See? This is your problem. I don't air out my personal business and suddenly you think I don't care about you..."
"Well, do you, Alexia?" You stared at her, with tears threatening to fall from your eyes. "All you ever want to do now is fuck. You don't ever tell me how you feel about me. You never even mentioned once that you liked me... and I can't recall the last time you complimented me in a way that wasn't about my body or looks. You might care but not enough."
Alexia groaned but tried to compose her thoughts before responding to you, not wanting to frustrate you even more. "Obviously, I like you but I just..." She trailed off. "I don't know if I'm ready for what you want."
You looked at the older woman with an incredulous look. You were at a loss for words. You felt a tear fall but you just wiped it off and shook your head, dryly chuckling.
She parked the car and took a deep breath. "Cariño, just because I'm not ready to commit yet... doesn't mean I don't care or like you." She explained patiently as she turned to look at you. "I just... think what we have now is good. Please, can we just calm down?"
You stayed silent, waiting for her to tell you she liked you more than just physically or to tell her you mattered to her. You didn't know exactly what you wanted to hear but you just wanted reassurance that you weren't just some secret fuck buddy to her.
Alexia groaned exasperatedly at your silence before unbuckling her seatbelt and leaning towards you, grabbing your face to kiss you. But instead of kissing her, you put a hand on her shoulder to stop her.
"Goodbye, Alexia." And with that, you left.
⋆˙⟡♡ After your frustrating exchange with Alexia, you demanded your groceries and insisted on carrying them up yourself, not wanting to talk to her for a while.
So, with two arms loaded with grocery bags, you clumsily stormed into the apartment, causing a couple of things to fall out of the bag. You groaned exasperatedly. "Fuck this shit."
"Guess the coupon didn't work out at the supermarket, huh?" You nearly jumped at the voice. You turned to see your aunt sitting on the couch, sipping coffee.
You sighed deeply, not answering as you were still distraught over the realization that after all this time, Alexia never returned your feelings. You doubted yourself, thinking maybe you were immature and childish for reacting like that but you couldn't help but be overwhelmed with insecurities.
Your aunt took note of your gloomy demeanor as she stood up from the couch to help you out with the groceries. "Darling, are you alright?" She said as she took the bags from you.
You looked up at your aunt and just shook your head. She immediately put the bags down on the nearby counter and took you in for a hug.
⋆˙⟡♡ As you unloaded your groceries with your aunt, you also decided it was time to let her know about what was going on. She was always the cool aunt, growing up. She was never judgmental or preachy; she often said something like "How could I be judgemental when I was way worse than you when I was a kid?" So, you figured that if there was anyone you could go to for advice, it would be her.
You kept the details vague though, not totally willing to disclose the fact that the girl you were seeing was Alexia. You just said you met an older woman while walking Ruby and you two hit it off. You recounted all the memories of you two hanging out, doing groceries, walking, or even just doing laundry.
"It felt domestic, at some point." You told your aunt. "It felt like we were dating even if we hadn't hinted that we liked each other. It felt even more intimate than when I was with my ex, y'know. It really felt... I don't know, close to her."
Your aunt nodded, understandingly. She continued to listen as you told her about running into Jenni and what Alexia said. Then, you told her about the nightclub incident, keeping details and identities vague. "And while I was dancing with the girl I met at the counter, she suddenly grabbed me and pulled me away and dragged me out of the club."
Your aunt's eyes widened. "She did what?!" She exclaimed, almost comically loud. You chuckled and continued, "Yeah, and I got really mad at her for it but then she suddenly kissed me."
You continued telling your aunt about the kiss and how you finally got to admit your attraction for each other. Then, you told her how started spending your time together in a more intimate manner, completely leaving behind the cutesy domestic aspect you've grown accustomed to.
You cringed a bit, talking to your aunt about your sex life but she didn't seem that bothered. "So, you went from playing house together to just fucking each other's brains out, got it." Your aunt said, making you chuckle.
You then tell her the reason as to why you were alone and angrily hauling paper bags full of grocery. She nodded along, seeming to be in deep thought. When you finished telling her your story, you sighed.
"So, yeah... I just got so annoyed by the whole 'neighbor' comment, the fact that she said I was immature because of my age, and how she didn't even bother to clarify that she liked me beyond the physical aspect. There was no reassurance that I could mean more to her than just someone to have fun with." You explained. "And when we argued, it felt like she knew exactly what my insecurities were with our relationship — well, situationship — and just had to pick at those."
Your aunt nodded, understandingly. "If it was just the grocery thing with her co-worker, I would have said you were acting immature too but I get that it was all the other factors together that just made you snap." She sympathized.
You nodded. "Yeah, I think I would have calmed down if she didn't make the comment about my age. It just felt like a pick at my deepest insecurity with our relationship, that I'm too young and immature for her... and the fact that she didn't want to commit or even just reassure me about us."
You sighed deeply. "It just made me feel so unsure of myself, which I was already feeling ever since we made our relationship mostly physical."
Your aunt sighed. "Well, if you ask me, I think it's better she showed you her intentions now than later, right?" You nodded in response.
"So, just rest a few days, and assess your feelings. Don't shut her out completely," Your aunt said. "I think you should give her a chance without her knowing that you're giving her a chance, if that makes sense. Just wait a couple days and if she reaches out to you and apologizes and tells you that she values you as a person, and possibly, a future partner, then go for it."
You sighed, thankful for your aunt's advice. You took her in for a hug, feeling comfort with the fact that you could really run to her with your problems.
Your aunt patted your back. "I'm sure you'd figure it out. Besides, I feel like she'd cool off in just a few days and apologize. Athletes just tend to have a reactive temper, I guess."
You froze at her comment. "But I never told you..."
She chuckled. "Well, your reaction just told me now."
⋆˙⟡♡ That very night, Alexia texted you just as you were about to get in bed.
"Cariño, come over." You rolled your eyes, knowing exactly what this text meant and you weren't exactly in the mood to fuck and forget about it.
Another text. "Let's make up, please. I miss you."
"Cariño, are you still mad?"
"I'll make it up to you pls."
You sighed, not a single text about talking it out or apologizing for how she acted. You put your phone on silent and just decided you'd reply once she texts you for more than a booty call.
⋆˙⟡♡ You were on your early morning run with Ruby when your phone started ringing. You rolled your eyes at the caller ID. It was Alexia.
As soon as the rings stopped, you got a text. "Come over, Cariño."
You rolled your eyes again. Is this the only phrase she's capable of? What happened to "hey" or "i'm sorry"?
As if reading your mind, you get another text. "I'm sorry."
You hummed in satisfaction but figured that you still needed a bit more time to think it out and consider your emotions. You didn't want to talk it out while you weren't ready.
⋆˙⟡♡ Late at night, you considered messaging Alexia that you two should talk but you still felt a bit of uneasiness and uncertainty with it. Plus, you felt that if you went to Alexia at this time of night, she'd get the wrong message.
⋆˙⟡♡ But apparently, even if you headed to Alexia's apartment now, you wouldn't find her there anyway.
You squinted at the Instagram story that the nearby lesbian club posted and saw a familiar figure in the background of one of the videos. You swore it was Alexia.
So, you did some digital investigating. Since Alexia was never the type to post on social media. You looked through Patri's Instagram story. Nothing. You went to Mapi's Instagram. Nothing. It was only on Ingrid's account that you found something of interest.
It was just a video of Ingrid with her arm around Mapi as they sang along to a song you weren't familiar with but in the background, you could see Alexia chatting up a shorter brunette girl.
You figured you might be overreacting but you couldn't help but feel jealous and annoyed. You were here, mulling over your relationship while she was out partying and maybe flirting with other girls.
The rational thing was to consider maybe it was just another night out with teammates, enjoying the break from football. But a part of you just felt annoyed and jealous.
I'll sleep it off, you thought. If she messages tomorrow, whatever it is, I'll reply that we should talk then. No use in delaying it anymore.
⋆˙⟡♡ Tomorrow came and there was no message. You pouted and went about your errands.
Afternoon, nothing. Dinner time, nothing.
You practically stalked the entire Barça team but most of them didn't post anything aside from Ingrid who just posted a couple more photos with Mapi and another with Alexia. Nothing too incriminating.
Still, you couldn't help but get annoyed that she gave up trying to reach out to you.
⋆˙⟡♡ The next day came, and then the next, and the next, and no message from the blonde Catalan.
You felt like you were reverting to your "bed rotting and mopping around with Ruby" routine as the days passed. You wanted to talk to Alexia so bad and you wanted to kiss her and hold her but you just knew deep inside, that it would be better if she made the first move in having a conversation about your relationship.
You sighed as you tapped through Instagram stories again, having nothing better to do. You paused when you reached Patri's Instagram story.
After that night at the club, you haven't exactly reached out to her considering your situation with Alexia but... Patri was always at the back of your mind.
You hesitated, pausing to consider. Would it be messy to hit up Alexia's teammate after everything we've done?
You bit your lip. Well, Alexia and I never dated and as far as anyone is concerned, there's nothing between us. No one, except maybe Frido, has a clue that we're romantic.
You corrected yourself. Romantic? Am I insane? There was nothing actually romantic about it. It was purely physical, especially towards the end.
You sighed. I just want someone who wants to date me and invest in me romantically. Is that too much to ask?
Your night flashed back to the club with Patri. While you didn't get the chance to talk much, she seemed attentive and interested in everything you were saying. Plus, she was also incredibly attractive. It wouldn't hurt to give it a shot.
But the thought of Alexia lingered. You knew that it might be unfair to her — how you never talked it out with her while sliding into her teammate's DMs. It could really hurt her.
...But then again, she never really made the effort to talk it out anyway. And, if you were keeping count, she hurt you first. You take a deep breath.
Fuck it. Alexia's not my girlfriend. I can do whatever the fuck I want.
⋆˙⟡♡ You didn't expect Patri to respond until the next day since you were certain she had a bunch of other DMs from fans.
But it didn't even take half an hour for her to reply, already talking about where she'd take you out on a date. You smiled, grateful that she was willing to still date you even after what happened.
⋆˙⟡♡ Patri took you to a tapas place. Even if you were the one who asked her out, she insisted that she pick you up; she even brought you a delicate bouquet of pink and white flowers.
She was basically everything a girl could ask for, opening doors for you and letting you sit first, being polite and attentive to you
It didn't hurt that her playful flirtatiousness from the club was still intact. When she met you at the lobby, she gave you a whistle, reacting favorably to the tight dress you were wearing. She also seemed to love guiding you by putting a hand behind your back or your waist. You felt it was a good balance of being polite and being subtly flirty and sensual.
⋆˙⟡♡ As you were eating and drinking, Patri finally brought up the single thing you didn't want to talk about at all.
"Okay, so I've got to ask." She furrowed her eyebrows. "Why did Alexia drag you out of the club that night? I was confused cause I didn't even see you two talk before that and she was suddenly dragging you away from me. I asked Mapi about it but she said she was too busy cuddling up with Ingrid to pay attention to anything else."
You sighed. You knew this question was inevitable but you still hated having to talk about it. "Alexia is actually my neighbor." You responded.
Patri nodded and chuckled, still visibly confused. "Okay? And?"
You chuckled back. "Well, we hung out sometimes and she told me that I reminded her of your younger teammate, Jana..." You continued. You weren't exactly lying but you did feel like you were circumventing the truth. "So, I guess she was protective of me somehow? I don't know..."
Patri nodded. "Hmm, did she tell you anything about me?"
You shook your head. "Uh, no... she was pretty drunk so I don't think she was thinking straight that night."
Patri paused and took a swig of her sangria. For a moment, you thought she'd seen through your lie version of the story.
Patri sighed. "I still think what she did was so random but... I guess, it might be because she doesn't trust me enough in the relationship department." She chuckled.
Patri briefly explained that she once dated another younger teammate and it ultimately ended up sour when Patri grew bored of the relationship and broke up with the girl, leaving the younger player distraught. It affected the team dynamic for a while but she said it didn't take them long to recover from it.
"I figured that maybe that could be the reason." Patri nodded, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "She didn't reply to me when I asked but I mean, Alexia barely checks her phone so..." She laughed.
You took a deep sigh of relief. She didn't figure you out; she seemed more concerned about the fact that Alexia might have warned you that she wasn't ideal dating material. "Yeah, I guess that's it... she was drunk and we didn't exactly talk about it after." Again, you weren't exactly lying when you said that.
Patri nodded. "But I hope you don't let that change the way you see me. I swear, that whole thing was just blown out of proportion. I wasn't being mean to her; I just try to be honest with the people I date." She explained with a shrug. "I mean, what's the point of lying?"
You felt a lump form in your throat but just forced a smile, nodding.
⋆˙⟡♡ In the next week, you spent more time with Patri, having lunches or going for random café runs. When you were apart, you were still texting each other stupid memes and TikToks or just chatting about everything under the sun.
It was fun being around her. She was so funny and easy-going. It felt like dating a friend. But the best part of it was that, even if you just started dating, she was very forward about how she felt about you.
⋆˙⟡♡ You went on a random afternoon date to a cute gelato place you passed by once on one of your walks with Ruby. You briefly mentioned it to Patri in a passing conversation but she remembered and took you there the next day.
You hummed in delight when you tasted the pistachio ice cream. "Oh, this is so good." You exclaimed. She smiled at you and looked at you with soft, admiring eyes.
You blinked. "What?"
"Nothing," She chuckled. "I just... like spending my time with you. I think I really like you..."
You smiled back. "I like spending time with you too."
She paused to eat a spoonful of ice cream. "Who knew that the hot girl I was grinding on from the bar would have me acting all nervous to tell her that I like her?" She joked.
You laughed and shook your head at her silly statement. With Patri, everything seemed easy. No doubts or second thoughts. She was always quick to remind you she liked you, not leaving any room for questioning.
Yet, deep inside, you could still feel yourself yearning for Alexia. Your relationship might have been tumultuous and uncertain but she made you feel things. Everything felt fiery and passionate and overwhelming... and you just craved for that intensity again.
⋆˙⟡♡ "Okay, do you want pizza or something else?" You asked Patri as you lay on her couch, scrolling through food options on the Deliveroo app.
Patri lifted your feet up and sat down, placing them on her lap. She rubbed your feet as she contemplated her options. "Hmm, are you on the menu?"
You chuckled and playfully pushed her with your foot. "You're so gross, Patri."
She continued rubbing your feet. You realized that you have been seeing Patri for almost two weeks already and you still haven't done anything beyond kissing. You reasoned out to yourself that it may be because you two usually spent your time outside her place but you knew deep inside, something else was holding you back.
"Hmm," Patri hummed loudly.
"Yes, Miss Guijarro? Is there a problem?" You asked, looking away from your phone to give her an eyebrow raise.
She shook her head. "Nothing... you just didn't answer the question..."
You smiled in amusement. "I did... I said you were gross." You retorted. Patri pouted and gave you a disappointed face which you just laughed at. You rolled your eyes. "Hmm... ask me again after dinner."
Patri practically beamed. "Okay, just order whatever pizza then. I don't want to delay dinner any further." She joked.
You chuckled at her silliness. "So, what movie did you say we should watch again?"
"I was going to recommend that we watch this horror movie, The Woman in Black, but I don't think that will set the mood I want to set." Patri chuckled. You nodded, recalling the movie and how Alexia mentioned that it was recommended by a teammate.
Of course, it was Patri. She did say she loved horror movies.
You nodded. "Let's just watch something else. I hate horror movies." And being reminded of Alexia.
She chuckled. "Yeah, okay, my teammates didn't like it too. Pina and Jana practically hated me when I made them watch it when they came over." She recalled before turning to you to smile. "You really should meet them. They're fun. You'd love them."
You just nodded along, feeling hesitant. You didn't know if it was a good idea meeting any more of their teammates, scared that maybe Alexia had mentioned something to someone and word would get out about this whole complex situation.
So, you changed the topic. "Okay, got us a large pizza with some soda. That good?"
⋆˙⟡♡ You and Patri were going out on another date at a new club near her place. It started off well. You tried some unique cocktails and got to chatting about your college life and Patri's own experience back when she was still studying.
Two drinks down and you were already starting to feel tipsy but you figured that was no problem. After all, you were with Patri who was responsible enough to take care of you if you did end up wasted.
In the middle of your conversation, Patri paused to check her phone. "Oh, by the way, I hope you don't mind but I told Jana that she should come over. She's in the area and she said before that she wanted to meet you."
Your heart dropped. "What?"
"Jana, my teammate." Patri clarified, speaking in a higher volume as the music had gotten a bit louder. "She's really fun so no worries."
You blinked, feeling a bit anxious. "You told her about me? She's going here?"
Patri looked confused. "Yeah? She's my friend. Don't you want to meet her?"
You sighed and started to overthink. You felt like it was irrational to feel this nervous about meeting her teammate.
You didn't want to admit it but deep down, you knew that if you met Patri's friends and teammates, it would solidify to them that you were Patri's girl.
The fact that Mapi and Ingrid already saw you two flirting back in the club didn't help. Now, a bunch of other people in her team knew about you. Soon, it would be solidified to everyone that you were Patri's... and somehow, you didn't want that.
Because that meant you were erasing your chance with Alexia. What if, at the end of it all, you decided to choose Alexia? Then, it would just seem like you were a slut or that you used Patri.
But you did use Patri. You used her to forget about Alexia.
The nagging voice in your head repeated over and over, making you feel overwhelmed with the gnawing feeling of guilt.
"Do you not want to meet my friends?" Patri asked again, bringing your attention back to her.
"I- I just..." You started getting frustrated, not with her but with yourself. "I don't think I want to do that right now."
She looked at you confused. "Why?"
You shook your head. "I don't know. I just... why would you tell them about me?" You asked in a raised tone. It was sinking into you just how rude you sounded; you could have made up some excuse about wanting to spend time alone. But you just had to be too emotional and now, it was too late to take your words back.
The calm expression on Patri's face turned to that of disbelief. "Am I not supposed to tell my friends about the girl I'm dating?"
You sighed. You knew she was in the right. In any other normal scenario, it wouldn't be such a big deal to introduce your date to a friend. But, you just couldn't rationalize to yourself why you felt so annoyed and anxious about it. "I just... I'm not ready for this Patri. I'm sorry."
Patri tried chasing after you but you waved her off. You were too overwhelmed with emotions and thoughts you could never explain to her.
⋆˙⟡♡ The combination of alcohol, anxiety, and guilt had left you shedding tears inside the taxi cab on the way to your apartment.
You liked Patri. You really liked her a lot.
But... with Alexia, it was different. She made you feel like your heart was doing flip-flops. She made you feel so warm from the inside. You don't think anything can replace the feeling of being with Alexia. She was... something else.
You loved the way she took care of you — cooking you meals, carrying everything for you, making you feel good. You loved her kisses, her touch. You loved how she looked at you; you couldn't put into words how Alexia Putellas' gaze could make someone feel.
It hurt admitting all of this to yourself because you knew Alexia never felt the same about you.
⋆˙⟡♡ After the grocery incident, Alexia felt annoyed and angry at you for blowing up the way you did. She felt like it was such an overreaction to what she said.
But most of all, she hated how you questioned her feelings for you. After all the casual dates, the daily walks with your dogs, the grocery or laundry runs, the nights spent cuddling, the breakfasts she'd thanklessly prepar for you as you slept soundly in her bed just cause you mentioned you loved waking up to the smell of pancakes... she felt it was overlooked.
She did like you. She liked you a lot, more than anyone she's ever messed around with. But she wasn't ready for a relationship with you, or anyone at all. She just never desired that ever again.
Not after Olga left her.
She didn't know if she could ever recover from another heartbreak like that. She didn't know if she had enough strength left in her to handle another failed relationship.
⋆˙⟡♡ When Olga left Alexia, she felt like she could never be with someone like that again. She hated the rollercoaster of a relationship; she felt like she'd grown too tired of it already.
She usually settled for meaningless hook-ups, the occasional one-night stand. She was content knowing that that was the closest thing to intimacy she would get ever again.
⋆˙⟡♡ That was until you came along with your sundresses, your clumsiness, your sunny demeanor. She found it hilarious how you would find so many ways to be around her. It was becoming blatantly obvious you had a crush on her.
⋆˙⟡♡ Sure, she first thought of you as just someone she could hook up with; the physical attraction was there from the start. But you were so... innocent, oblivious to her touches and comments, her advances. She figured that maybe you weren't really into her like that, maybe you just loved being around her.
⋆˙⟡♡ So, she let it play out. You'd go on your morning walks, share a coffee at a café, go to the grocery, do the laundry... she enjoyed it a lot until she realized she might be developing feelings again for someone who might not like her like that.
⋆˙⟡♡ And so she decided to slowly detach herself from you, not seeing you for a few days.
The only problem with trying to detach physically was that she never considered how you still managed to linger in her brain. She couldn't get you out of her head. You were in everything she saw.
Making a cup of coffee? Oh, this was the brand of oat milk you liked. Doing laundry? Oh, this was the top you thought was cute on her. Even Nala was all out of sorts, possibly also missing Ruby.
⋆˙⟡♡ So, she tried other things.
She called up her ex, Jenni, who happened to be in town for drinks and perhaps, some good old fun. It worked for a while. Jenni always knew how to get your mind off of things
But then, just before she entered her apartment that night, she saw you, looking so cute in your pajamas with sleepy eyes and Ruby by your side.
And suddenly, you were imprinted on her mind again.
⋆˙⟡♡ Even when she was waking up to a debilitating hangover, all she could think about was if she was going to see you again that day.
She dreaded the thought of seeing you, knowing it would only remind her that she was growing attached to your presence. Yet, strangely, she also craved your presence. She missed walking your dogs together. She missed seeing you in your cute dresses, how you'd blush when she called you pretty.
She knew that she was risking getting further attached to you if she did spend more time with you but not being around you was so much worse than that.
⋆˙⟡♡ So, she walked Nala that afternoon during the time you'd usually take Ruby out for her poo time. But you weren't there.
She'd go to the laundromat several times with just a couple shirts in hand, hoping to see you fussing with things that shrunk in the dryer. Again, nothing.
She'd send you a text about something dumb like the supermarket near you stocking up on your favorite oat milk but it was left on delivered.
She was getting frustrated. She did start the whole avoiding thing but the way you did it was so unsubtle, especially after she figured out that you were taking Ruby on walks at ungodly hours of the day. It was blatantly obvious you were avoiding her.
It was a sign for her to erase any thought of pursuing you, whether it be for some casual fun or something more. She felt you were so immature to be avoiding her like this, and she didn't have the energy to deal with that.
⋆˙⟡♡ When Mapi sent an invitation to the team group chat for a night out at Manuelas, Alexia was the first to say yes.
She figured she might as well get drunk and get laid that weekend, instead of staying at home wondering when the 22-year-old down the hallway would come out of her apartment to walk her dog. She felt so juvenile and naive thinking about shit like that.
She knew that going to a club, surrounded by hot girls would be enough to forget about you.
⋆˙⟡♡ But as soon she entered the club with her teammates, she saw you.
You were unbelievably close to some girl with her back turned on Alexia. She grew angry at the thought of you flirting with someone else. She grew even more frustrated when Mapi leaned over to whisper, "Looks like Patri already found her meal for tonight."
She was basically gritting her teeth at that point.
⋆˙⟡♡ She hated how you touched Patri's arm with unspoken intentions and hated how she could hear you laugh from two meters away at Patri's corny jokes. She hated how you barely acknowledged her even when she approached you, not even a single smile or nod.
⋆˙⟡♡ She couldn't help herself that night. She spent several weeks trying to give you all these hints and advances just for you to reciprocate none of it. But here you were, grinding against her teammate who you barely even knew.
Soon, the alcohol in her system had taken over and the only agenda on her mind that night was you.
⋆˙⟡♡ One night with you was enough to drive Alexia feral. There was something about you that was addicting, something that drove her insane.
She's slept with a lot of beautiful girls, and girls who were amazing in bed. But nothing compared to you.
⋆˙⟡♡ She had to have a taste of you every day, sometimes even more than just once a day.
She was a woman captivated. Even when you weren't around, all she could think about was pleasuring you and what she'd do to you as soon as you were around.
⋆˙⟡♡ One night, you were heavily making out on her bed.
She was slowly grinding her knee against your core, gearing up to take control again. But this time, you pulled away. "Alexia, can I make you feel good this time?" You looked at her with wide eyes.
She smiled at you. "Cariño, I already feel good just watching you." She tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. She planted a kiss against your temple. "Come on, just lay back down; I'll take care of you."
You pouted at her with puppy eyes. Her weakness. "Please? I can't promise that I'll be as good as you but I can try." You pleaded.
She chuckled. "No one is as good as me, cariño." She sighed, pausing to give you a kiss. "But if you insist."
You were overly excited, spreading her legs clumsily before diving in. She hummed as she felt your tongue press against her, lapping her entire core in such a careful and calculating manner.
Once you were more comfortable and familiar with her, you wrapped your mouth around her clit, sucking like she did with you. Alexia let out a soft moan, which was enough encouragement that you were doing well.
Alexia stifled her moans as you continued to eat her out, alternating between sucking and licking. She grabbed onto your head, grinding on you as you continued to eat her out.
She moaned out your name as she felt the pleasure fill her entire body. As soon as she was wet enough, you inserted two fingers inside, steadily thrusting as you kept a quick and consistent pattern of licking around her clit.
Just with a few thrusts, she could feel her orgasm approaching. And as she came, she moaned out loud. "Uh, cariño, I love y—"
She stopped herself from saying it, eyes wide at the realization. She looked down at you but you were still pressed between her legs, not hearing her little slip-up.
She bit her lip, feeling like she was approaching dangerous territory with you and her feelings again. She told herself that it was just the pleasure, the sudden rush of emotions that made her almost say it but she knew that wasn't the truth.
⋆˙⟡♡ From then on, she kept your interactions short and casual. No more extra frills. She'd hit you up whenever she wanted some fun or stress relief but she'd leave it to that.
You didn't go on any more dog walks or errand runs. She didn't want to do anything that reminded her of anything soft or romantic. She decided that she was going to limit it to just the physical.
⋆˙⟡♡ Naturally, it didn't take long until you were demanding for her to tell you how she felt.
She cursed, thinking she should have been more limiting about it. Why did she have to go with you to the grocery that day? If she hadn't, maybe she wouldn't be forced to contemplate her emotions on the spot.
⋆˙⟡♡ Of course, she liked you. She liked you more than she would have liked to. But, she knew that you were young and all that commitment stuff mattered to you and she just couldn't promise you that.
⋆˙⟡♡ She didn't know how to make it right with you without having to lie to you by giving you some false sense of commitment. She figured you would have moved on from it soon enough and you'd be back to spending your days all over each other again.
⋆˙⟡♡ But you didn't respond to her texts. You didn't answer her calls. You shut her out completely. It left her annoyed and mildly... upset.
"She's just another fuck buddy," She told herself on several occasions. "You'd find someone else soon."
⋆˙⟡♡ But she didn't. Every girl she talked to was boring. No one even remotely attracted her anymore, not even physically. Even when she went to her usual lesbian club, there was absolutely no one that caught her eye.
That's when she knew she was in trouble.
⋆˙⟡♡ Alexia still didn't want to confront her own emotions.
If she wasn't going to fuck her way around to forgetting you, she figured she would pour her time into friendship, as corny as it sounded.
She'd hang out a lot in Mapi and Ingrid's place but being the third wheel just reminded her of you again. She'd prepare dinner for her younger teammates and it would be a good distraction until they made the same stupid Tiktok references you made and played the same songs you listened to. It just felt so impossible to run away from the thought of you.
⋆˙⟡♡ Jana was helping Alexia wash the dishes after a spontaneous dinner at Alexia's home. Jana always had a fifth sense when it came to her teammates, and she could sense that Alexia needed company.
"So, how've you been, Ale?" She asked, cautiously. "You seem different from your usual self.
Alexia hummed. "Just bored," She responded. "Wish football season would start soon so I won't be stuck alone at home all the time. And you? How's Jill?"
"She's great. She's coming over here this weekend to visit me and her friend from the Netherlands who is on Erasmus here." Jana beamed. "Her friend is pretty cute, Ale. We should set you up."
Alexia chuckled and shook her head. "If she's on Erasmus, that means she's way too young for me." She laughed.
Jana frowned. "I mean, she's a bit younger than you but the age gap isn't that bad. It's just like Jill and me." She hummed at the thought of her girlfriend. "22 and 30... not that big an age gap, in my opinion."
Alexia sighed deeply. Great, another reminder of her.
"Think about it, Ale, it would be so cute. We can even invite Patri and her new girl!" Jana exclaimed, enthusiastically. "It would be my first time doing a triple date."
Alexia nodded and just continued washing the pot she used. "I didn't know Patri was dating anyone," Alexia commented.
"Yeah, I stalked her girlfriend on Instagram and she's really pretty. I think they suit each other really well." Jana beamed as she absentmindedly continued to wipe on the same plate she'd been wiping for a while. "Just like I think this Dutch girl would suit you..."
Alexia shook her head in amusement and took the plate from Jana's hands. "Let's focus on the dishes for now." She joked, absolutely not interested in dating another college girl.
Jana's phone buzzed and she gasped. "Oh, Ale, we should go out tonight! Patri's at the new trendy bar with her girl." She exclaimed, looking at the text she got. "Ooh, I've been wanting this strawberry cocktail there."
Alexia pondered for a moment. She hasn't exactly hung out or talked to Patri since the club incident but she figured that if Patri had a new girlfriend, it would be water under the bridge for them. "Hmm, how far is it from here?"
"Let me check," Jana paused before gasping again.
"Wait, aw, look how cute they are! They're so adorable together." She gushed before showing her phone to Alexia. "Look, Ale. Isn't her girlfriend so pretty?"
Alexia nearly crushed the wine glass in her hand when she saw a selfie of you and Patri with your faces so close together. She blinked a couple times before setting down the wine glass and trying to retain composure.
Jana still noticed Alexia's weird reaction. "Why are you quiet? Don't you think she's such a massive babe?" She gushed, scrolling through the other photos Patri sent. "Patri's so lucky."
Alexia rubbed her face and sighed. "I just didn't know Patri was dating my neighbor." She said, trying to make her stunned reaction appear more natural.
Jana widened her eyes. "What a small world, oh my god! All the more reason we should go out tonight." She smiled. "I can even invite Pina since I think she's around the area too."
Alexia shook her head. "Nah, I'm good." She responded. "I forgot that I have a dental cleaning in the morning and I have to wake up early."
Jana pouted but didn't want to force Alexia. "Okay, I'll just tell them you send your best wishes."
Yeah, best wishes.
⋆˙⟡♡ As soon as Jana headed out, Alexia opened another bottle of wine. She didn't know how else to cope with learning that you had moved on so quick and started dating her friend.
Here she was, going crazy trying to forget about you while you were cozying up to her friend and teammate. And the fact that all her teammates probably knew about it before she did... it was unbearable.
This was what she wanted to avoid all along — the same destructive feeling she had when she ended things with her fiancée. But this time, you two never even dated. You only saw each other for a couple months and yet, she was completely distraught.
She chuckled dryly to herself, thinking about what her younger teammates would often joke about when talking about their own relationships. "That two-week-long lesbian situationship will send you to therapy."
She always laughed it off, chalking it up to kids being dramatic. She never would have thought she'd be going through it too at her age. She finished the bottle and decided it wasn't enough; she had to have more to drink but there was nothing left in her apartment.
She sighed, thinking maybe it was time to cool it with the drinking. But she knew it would be easier to drown out her emotions with more alcohol.
⋆˙⟡♡ You wiped your remaining tears as you entered the apartment building.
Fortunately, the cab driver didn’t catch your answer when he asked where you wanted to go, giving you extra time to cry as he initially drove to the wrong location. (Not that you could blame him—you were an American with no Spanish or Catalan skills, and your sniffling and tears likely didn’t help either.)
You straightened your dress up and tried to brush your hair with your fingertips. You didn't want your aunt to see you distraught again. One more breakdown over a girl and you were certain she was going to have you checked with one of her psych friends.
And, you just felt pathetic having all of these feelings. You were so done with the tears, the frustration, the regret. It was more than you could handle.
At least, I'm home now. I'm going to leave behind all the tears with that poor cab driver and genuinely, get my shit together.
⋆˙⟡♡ But much to your dismay, once the elevator doors opened, you saw Alexia.
You hated the cruelty of fate, forcing you to face each other again while you just cried your heart out about her in a cab.
You kept your head low and considered just waiting for a different elevator. But Alexia laughed dryly and asked. "You're not getting in?"
You wanted to retort with a "and you're not getting out?" but you decided against it, knowing your voice would crack and give away the fact that you just bawled.
So, against better judgment, you got into an elevator with Alexia.
⋆˙⟡♡ Alexia couldn't quite see your face; all she knew was that you'd come home from a night out with Patri. She clicked her tongue, glancing at you before rolling her eyes.
"Not gonna press the button?"
When you didn’t respond, she hit the button for your floor herself, stealing glances as she did. She wanted to curse out loud. She could barely see your face since you hovered close to the elevator door, and turned away from her—but the way your dress hugged your body stirred a familiar annoyance. How could you look that good, dressed up like that, for anyone but her?
"So, you're with Patri now, huh?"
You stayed silent. Of course, word had gotten out to her that you were seeing her teammate. You were stupid for thinking lesbians wouldn't tell their friends about the girl they're seeing.
Alexia scoffed, pressing a tongue against the side of her cheek in annoyance. "So, you sleep with me... then you sleep with Patri... you got a Barça checklist I don't know about?"
Her words stung your chest. It felt like she was implying that you were a slut or that you were just interested in her or Patri because they were famous.
"I didn't sleep with Patri..." You muttered out weakly.
Alexia chuckled. "What? Scared she won't make you feel good as I did?" She taunted, feeling her step closer to your back.
This time, you felt tears fall down as she instigated you. You could tell she was drunk by the way she was slurring her words, maybe even more drunk than you were but you couldn't ever find a world where you would speak as harshly to her as she was to you.
"Huh, can't even answer." Alexia hummed.
But it didn't take long for her to hear small sniffles. She furrowed her eyebrows before gently walking towards you to take a look at your face. You quickly pushed her away, not wanting her to see you this vulnerable again. The elevator doors opened and you walked out but she quickly grabbed you.
She spun you around and her face softened at the sight of you crying. You tried again to swat her away. "Alexia, leave me alone." You croaked out.
She didn't let you go, keeping both hands on either side of you. "Hey, hey, what happened?" Her voice was more calm now. "Did Patri hurt you? What did she do? Why are you crying?"
You pushed her away again with more force, making her step back away from you. "Fuck, Patri didn't hurt me, Alexia! You did!" You said with a raised voice. "This is all your fault! So, you don't get to talk to me like that after you fucked everything up. Just... leave me alone."
Alexia reached out to hold your hand, keeping you from walking away. "I'm sorry." She said it sincerely. She hesitated for a while before wiping away the tears from your face.
She used both of her hands to cup your face. "Cariño, please don't cry anymore. I'm sorry... I'm sorry I hurt you." Her voice was soft.
You looked down at your shoes as Alexia continued to wipe away the tears on your cheeks.
"I'm really sorry." She began apologizing again. "I should have talked to you about how I felt. I should have been more open about my past and why I was so scared to commit. Instead, I made you doubt that I ever liked you and that was wrong for me."
You gently removed Alexia's hands from your face and wiped the tears off yourself. "It's not just that, okay?" You said with a soft yet pointed tone.
"Tell me and I'll make it up to you." Alexia moved closer, putting a hand on your waist.
You shrugged her away. "I just... I'm having it really good with Patri. She's funny and pretty; she's really a catch. And, she makes me laugh so much but she's also really nice to me. Like, attentive and sweet." You rambled on, still tipsy and incoherent from the alcohol in your system. "She's so good to me, Alexia. And I want to love her so bad. I want to be in a relationship with her and commit to someone who reassures me about their feelings so often that I wouldn't have time to question it."
Alexia stayed silent, knowing there was more left to be said.
You sniffled. "But all I want is you. I can't love anyone while you're there, at the back of my mind." You confessed, feeling your voice crack. "Even when you made me feel like shit, I wanted you. I still wanted to be in your arms and kiss you."
You wiped the tears that were running down your face. "It's unfair to someone as kind as Patri for me to be there with her but still be thinking about how much I want you... and that's all on you." You exclaimed, blaming her. "If only you were honest about all of this — even if you didn't like me — I'd get the chance to move on and I wouldn't be stuck thinking about you anymore."
Alexia stepped in to hold you in an embrace. She hushed you, brushing your hair and patting your head to comfort you. "I'm sorry, cariño." She whispered. "If I could redo it, I would."
"I was just... frightened by how I felt." She continued. "I didn't ever heal completely from my past relationship and it just left me scared of ever committing again. And, you came along and... you made me feel all the things."
You stood there, sniffling against Alexia's chest as she held you. "I just felt like accepting the fact that I was falling in love with you would be accepting the chance that you'd break my heart." Alexia sighed in shudders, feeling tears well up in her eyes as well.
She looked down at you and you looked up at her, locking your eyes together. "I'm not making excuses. I just want you to know... I can change it all now. I can make it all better." Alexia whispered.
She leaned in closer. "I want to try again with you." She closed the space between you, taking your lips into hers gently. "Let me try again."
You breathed, averting your gaze away from her again. You couldn't decide on what to do but how could you think clearly now when all of your thoughts were becoming static noise.
You wanted to give in, to try again with Alexia. After all, she was what you craved all along. But something inside you felt that that would be the wrong decision.
"I think I need to think about it." You looked up at her. "If we wanted to try and actually pursue something, we need to be serious about it. It would be the mature thing for me to do."
Alexia nodded and gave you a bittersweet smile. "Can always trust you to do that." She smiled before gently touching your face again. "Just give me one more kiss, just a kiss good night?"
You sighed before you nodded, letting her hold your waist in her hands. You locked eyes, taking in the moment and the proximity you had with each other. Then, your eyes both fluttered shut and you were kissing again.
It felt good but it felt so different this time.
It felt like a goodbye.
⋆˙⟡♡ You woke up to your Aunt knocking on your bedroom door. "I made breakfast." She called out to you.
You blinked your eyes open and immediately felt the heaviness of your eyelids. You could instantly tell they were puffy from all the crying. You sighed and headed out to the dining room to have a meal.
"Damn, you look like some bees stung your eyes." Your aunt commented, making light of it. "You run into a beehive?"
No, just ran into a blonde footballer.
"Rough night," It was all you could say.
Your aunt squeezed your shoulder. "We don't have to talk about it, if you don't want to. Don't worry." She said. "But if you want to... you know I'm just here."
⋆˙⟡♡ You were cleaning the dishes from breakfast when you heard the doorbell.
"I'll get it." Your aunt called out, signaling for you to keep doing the dishes. As soon as she opened the door, she cooed. "Ooh, quines flores més boniques! És para mi?"
Your aunt continued to talk to the person at the door as you washed the plates. When she shut the door, you turned to see who it was and were shocked to see your aunt holding a bouquet of various white flowers.
Before you could even react, your aunt was reading the tag that came with it. "Huh, guess I got the wrong footballer in mind..." She commented.
You hurriedly set down the plates and ran to your aunt to grab the note from her and prevent her from reading any more of it. She just chuckled.
It was from Patri. "I'm sorry for last night. I shouldn't have rushed our relationship. I'll give you space if you need it but I'm here for you always. -Patri"
You bit your lip, feeling the guilt in your heart grow tenfold. Patri was never in the wrong. Any girl would tell their friends about someone they've been seeing for weeks. You knew it was your fault and that she didn't get the treatment she deserved.
Yet she was the one sending you flowers. She was just too good for you.
⋆˙⟡♡ You were in bed, scrolling through Patri's Instagram and contemplating whether or not you should message. But what would you even say? I'm sorry. I'm in love with your teammate?
You wished you were honest from the start... or that you could just take it all back. Never come to Barcelona. Never experience this pain and guilt. Never meet Alexia.
You put the phone down and decided to make yourself some tea to calm your nerves. Your aunt was in the living room, watching old clips from a Barcelona game. "That's the girl you're seeing, right?" She asked, pointing at Patri.
"Auntyyy," You groaned. "Why are you watching that?"
"I... wanna support my local club, y'know." She said with a shrug. "Can you make me a cup as well?"
You nodded, trying to ignore the screen that showed both Patri and Alexia; it was the last thing you needed.
⋆˙⟡♡ Later on, there was another knock on the door. Your aunt offered to get it, pausing the video.
You turned around curiously as you heard her chuckle. "Two in one day. Guess I should open up a flower shop." Your aunt commented, jokingly. "So... what can I help you with, neighbor?"
"Is she home?" You heard that familiar voice. It was Alexia. You couldn't see her but you knew it was her. "I... got these for her."
You bit your lip, not knowing what to do. Your aunt looked over to you. Seeing the worried expression on your face, she turned back to Alexia. "I can tell her to call you later if she wants to."
"Thank you. Please tell her to call me whenever." Alexia's voice sounded disappointed. "And that I'm sorry."
As soon as your aunt closed the door, you saw that she was carrying another bouquet. This time, it was a large bouquet of peach and pink peonies.
Your aunt looked at you with an incredulous look on her face. "Now, I think we need to talk."
⋆˙⟡♡ You and your aunt sat side-by-side on the living room couch with both bouquets on the coffee table in front of you and the TV still on pause with the Barça clips.
"Well, if you ask me, I like the peonies better." You aunt commented after a long moment of silence, still trying to bring some humor to the ridiculous situation you were in. "Did it come with a note?"
You shook your head. "Is that a sign or symbol of something? Are these a metaphor for something I'm missing?" You said, overthinking again.
"I think it's a sign for you to get your shit together," Your aunt said with a sigh. "Cause how is it that you've got two footballers sending you apology flowers in a day. What did they do?"
You shook your head and rested your head in your hands. "It's actually mostly my fault..." You said, muffling your own words with your hands as you felt yourself getting teary-eyed again. "I just feel so stupid."
Your aunt comforted you by rubbing your back. "It can't be that bad, darling. We'll talk it out and we'll find a way for it to get better."
⋆˙⟡♡ But it was that bad.
You felt yourself wince and grow more and more annoyed with yourself as you recounted the events in detail. Your aunt was trying her best to be comforting but you could tell from her expression that even she was finding it all hard to believe.
"And so, I just feel like I made a huge mistake." You sniffled as you finished telling her the entirety of what happened. "I didn't mean to lead Patri on. I genuinely felt like I would have moved on and actually be with her but Alexia..."
You looked at your aunt, who nodded understandably. "That's because your heart already chose her, " she shrugged. It sounds corny, but it happens. Once your heart claims someone, you can't easily force them out of there and replace them with someone else."
You wiped the tears on your face. "I just feel so clueless and stupid right now because I put myself in a lose-lose situation."
Your aunt furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. "And why is that?"
"Because if I choose Patri, I would feel guilty because I know Alexia will always be on my mind and that I'll always still have those feelings for her and that's just unfair and wrong to Patri." You explained, sniffling. "And I love Alexia, even more than I have ever loved my ex who I dated for years... but I don't think I can trust myself to be vulnerable with her anymore. And I think I would always feel distrustful of her intentions."
Your aunt nodded, pausing for a moment. "But you do know those aren't the only choices, right?"
You looked at her to continue. She sighed, "You're looking at a false dichotomy. It's not going to be Alexia or Patri. It doesn't even have to end up with you choosing a relationship to pursue right now." She paused. "It could just be you choosing to heal... which is what you initially came here to do."
You nodded, taking in her words.
"You know how when you get a wound and it's barely healed but you pick at it and it just gets worse?" Your aunt tried to explain "That's what's happening now. You came here to heal from your ex-girlfriend and you barely let the wound heal before putting yourself in the same situation that gave you the wound in the first place. Do you get me?"
You nodded, feeling a bit lost with her vaguely medical analogy. "Yeah, kinda."
She sighed. "What I'm trying to say is... you can't keep running back to the same situations that hurt you and expect different results." She said as she rubbed your back. "And, you were right for coming here in the first place. You can't heal where you were hurt so it was smart of you to take yourself out of that place and distance yourself to give yourself time to actually heal."
"But... now, it's happening again. You're hurting here." She looked at you with pity. "And you can't expect yourself to heal from a past wound and this new wound while you're in a place that just keeps making you want to pick at the scabs each time they form."
Your aunt chuckled. "I feel like I've had this exact conversation with a nine-year-old kid who kept picking his knee scabs from falling over his bike..." She said, lightening up the situation. "But seriously, I stand by it. I don't think you can fully heal while you're here."
You paused. You knew she was right. If you stayed here, you'd always be tempted to run to Alexia who was literally a few feet away from you.
And, even if you were strong and had self-control, the thought of her just being down the hall would make you wonder all the time about what she was doing. Plus, the likelihood of you two running into each other was also enormous.
You couldn't stay here and expect to heal.
"So, should I just go back to the States?" You asked.
Your aunt paused. "If I were you, I wouldn't. Because then, you'd be comfortable in your environment, and you'd be bored and all you would do all day is probably watch Barcelona clips or stalk those two online and you'd keep regretting more."
"When you first came here, you told me you'd love to travel Europe." She reminded you. "You said you'd want to go see the Eiffel Tower and Pisa and all those corny tourist traps... what's stopping you from doing that?"
You paused to think about it. You did have a decent amount of months left before you had to return to university, and you didn't want to come home and tell everyone that all you did was mope around in your aunt's apartment for an entire year.
"But what if I still don't heal there? What if I still feel like shit?" You asked your aunt.
"Well, if you ask me, it's better to feel like shit while you're eating a pizza in Rome than feel like shit while taking Ruby out on her daily poop." She joked, still making sense.
You knew she was right. You couldn't waste time here, doing nothing and expecting results. There was no chance that you would stay here and completely move on from the remnants of the pain you felt with your ex and from the fresh wounds you got from your experience with Alexia.
If you wanted to move on, you had to put yourself first and leave Barcelona.
⋆˙⟡♡ You packed a small suitcase with essentials while your aunt helped you book trains and buses.
"Madrid is packed with tourists during this season. Why don't you go to France first then just pass by Madrid on the way back here?" Your aunt said with eyebrows knit together as she looked at your rushed itinerary.
You chuckled. "To be honest, I don't really care where I go. I just need to be a tourist for now — be on the move and take all the usual tourist photos."
Your aunt hummed. "Then I'm changing all of your plans here cause this isn't a good route."
You chuckled and allowed her to do it. Soon enough, you had a month of travel ahead of you with the first plane leaving early tomorrow.
You sighed. You thought it was such an out-of-character thing for you to do — just randomly planned flights and train rides to random cities without any set housing or a clear itinerary yet. But maybe doing things that were out of your comfort zone was what you would need.
⋆˙⟡♡ Your aunt drove you to the airport at 4 am. Before leaving the apartment, your eyes lingered on Alexia's door down the hallway. You felt tempted to run over there and give her one last kiss before bidding your farewell.
But you knew that was just you picking at the scabs again. So, you used every ounce of self-control in your body and dragged yourself away from it.
Though, you did send Patri a text. You told her you were still experiencing trust issues from a past relationship and that you jumped into dating her without healing. You apologized, making sure she knew that none of it was her fault and that you were genuinely regretful. You also said you would apologize in person but that you had to leave Barcelona urgently.
You were nervous for when she would wake up to that text and for what she would say but you figured that this was for the best.
You hugged your aunt tightly before you headed inside the airport. You wanted to cry, missing Alexia already even when you haven't left the city.
But you had to choose yourself this time. You had to heal.
⋆˙⟡♡ In just three months, you've been to Paris, Monaco, Tuscany, Venice, Munich, and all the other places you've planned (and didn't exactly plan) to go to.
You did all the touristy stuff. You made several friends in the hostels you stayed in. You tried so much food. You hiked. You missed a flight. You ate bad cheese and blew your guts out in the metro toilet. You basically experienced everything — good and bad — and it was genuinely helping you move on.
⋆˙⟡♡ There were times when you stumbled — liking a photo Alexia posted and quickly taking the like back, sending an Instagram DM only to unsend it before it's fully delivered, basically going through each Barça member's account to see a glimpse of Alexia.
It was especially worse when football season started and Barcelona was playing so many games. Even when you tried not to watch, you'd stumble into a bar that was showing the game. But soon enough, you learned to block it all out from your head and ignore it.
When you left Barcelona, Patri sent you one long message telling you that she was hurt but she understood where you were coming from and that if ever I needed someone to talk to still, she was there. Though, you never took her offer; you still appreciated the gesture. All you could hope for was that she would move on and find someone more worthy of her time.
On the other hand, you didn't know if Alexia messaged you because you blocked her number as soon as you boarded the plane. It felt naive and childish to do so but it was crucial. You knew you'd end up obsessing over whether or not she'd message you or what she'd say if she did. You didn't want to fixate on that.
Ignorance is bliss, after all.
⋆˙⟡♡ You felt like you were almost fully healed at this point.
You no longer felt sick when you'd see Alexia play a game on TV. You no longer stalked the Barça team for updates. You were moving on, and it felt good.
But undeniably, there was still something inside you that felt empty.
In all of your efforts, you figured that throwing out all the regret, pain, and hang-ups inside you was the best way to go about it. And it worked but it did leave you feeling empty and unfulfilled.
It wasn't anything too bothersome but you knew yourself that something was missing that kept you from fully healing.
⋆˙⟡♡ "Come on, we're both tourists here. We might as well make the most out of it." The brunette girl said, trying to get you to go out on a date with her. "What's stopping you from going out with me?"
You smiled at the brunette sitting across from you. The two of you accidentally exchanged suitcases and had to contact each other's mobile from the bag tags to switch them back.
So, you met at a café near your hostel and you were shocked to learn that the owner of the luggage you accidentally got was this attractive brunette girl with a confident smirk and intimidating aura.
"Isn't this already a date, Lena? We're in a quaint coffee shop in Italy, getting to know each other." You asked her. "If that's not enough, let's have another coffee then - on me - then we can go our separate ways and have a cute story to tell our friends. You can embellish it with more cutesy details; I don't mind."
"All we did was exchange suitcases and chat about how hassle that trip was." The German girl rolled her eyes. "The fact that you and I have the exact same luggage, were on the exact same trip going here, and exchanged suitcases accidentally..." She paused for dramatic effect.
"That's just the recipe for the most perfect meet-cute. It's fate." She reasoned out.
You laughed at her. It was undeniable that she was charming and funny and very good-looking, and the fact that she was trying so hard to ask you out was flattering. But you weren't really in the mood to date now. If anything, it was the last thing on your mind. "I've had enough meet-cutes in my life to know it isn't all that."
"Sure, a gorgeous girl like you would have experienced it so much already but that shit rarely happens to me so it must mean something." Lena reasoned out, making you laugh again. "What? Are you straight or something?"
You laughed. "God, no." You shook your head. "I just... came from a bad breakup, followed by two simultaneous situationships that had me running all over Europe just to get over it. So, I'm just averse to romance for the time being."
Lena's eyes sparkled with curiosity. She felt amused by your blatant honesty. "Tell me what happened then."
You shook your head. "Too long of a story. Besides, I don't kiss and tell." You shrugged.
Lena huffed and rubbed her chin in thought as she crossed her arms, purposely doing so to accentuate her biceps. You rolled your eyes at the ridiculous attempt. "So, your exes must be hot, huh?"
You laughed. "Does that matter?"
"Well, I would give up pursuing you if you said they were hotter than me. That just means I've got no chance." She said.
You chuckled. "Well, then yeah. They're hotter."
She feigned defeat but paused. "Would it change your answer if I tell you I'm a pro football player?"
Your mouth dropped. What is with me and attracting soccer players? Was I a soccer ball in my past life for me to attract these women?
"That would just make your chances worse actually," You said with an incredulous look. "Way worse."
Lena sighed deeply. "Guess I've gotta go to that Juventus-Barcelona game myself." She said, trying to bait you.
You paused. You haven't kept yourself updated with the games Barcelona was playing. You knew it would have been counterintuitive for you to do so. So, it naturally came as a shock to you that they were playing in the exact same city you were in.
"Barcelona? Femeni?" You asked cautiously.
She nodded. "Yeah, my friend plays for Juventus and she invited me to watch." She took note of your expression. "You a fan of Barça?"
You hummed, not exactly responding. "And that game is when?"
"Tonight," Lena responded with a smirk. "Why? Did I just convince you to go on a date?
You laughed and rolled your eyes. Lena just laughed it off. "So, you are a fan."
"Yes, well, not really..." You answered vaguely, unsure of how to respond. "Kinda, I don't know."
She rolled her eyes. "Let me guess, you're one of those girls who saw those Tiktok edits of Alexia running around without her shirt on and so now, you're a fan." She joked.
You bit your lip at the mention of Alexia. It felt weird knowing that some stranger was talking to you about her without knowing that one of the reasons why you were in Italy was that you were trying to move on from her.
Lena chuckled, assuming she was correct. "Well, I've got an extra ticket if you want to go... and I wouldn't mind if you cheered for Alexia the entire game."
What Lena said triggered a memory... of you and Alexia on the first night that you slept over at her place.
You remembered how you cautiously watched her drift to sleep, talking about watching a game of hers when she said, "Promise that you'll cheer for me?"
And you made that promise.
You didn't think much of it then. You were clueless as to what would transpire after that night. But, the fact was that you did promise her that.
You rationalized with yourself that she wouldn't have remembered and that that shit didn't matter anymore. But, it was just funny how this opportunity to see her again — in Turin of all places — was falling straight to your lap. It felt like a chance to fulfill that promise.
Maybe this was what you had to do now. If you changed your mind and ended up hurting from the sight of her again, you still had a month and a half to go to hop to more random cities and forget about her again.
It wasn't a bad idea.
"I can just buy the ticket from you." You offered the German girl to which she laughed incredulously. "I think I've got enough cash in my wallet right now."
She smiled. "No, it's yours. I have no one else to go with anyway." She shrugged. "Can't believe I'm bagging a date thanks to Alexia Putellas."
⋆˙⟡♡ Your heart was skipping a million beats per second as you arrived, and it wasn't just because you were the only one in a Barcelona shirt on the Juventus side.
"Lewandowski fan too, huh?" Lena commented as she looked at the name on the back of your kit.
You shook your head. "Not really, I just bought the only Barça shirt available from a stall near my hostel." You said as you scratched your neck. "It's kinda itchy actually."
Lena chuckled. "If you want a Barcelona jersey, I can ask my friend to exchange kits with Alexia and I can give it to you." She beamed, still thinking you were just some fan. "But that would mean another date with me."
You rolled your eyes. "Again, this is not a date." You corrected. And I already have one of Alexia's kits back at my aunt's house in Barcelona, you thought silently to yourself.
She frowned. "God, your ex must be top-tier if you're still not folding to my charm right now." She joked.
"Yeah, I actually dated Alexia Putellas." You responded in a jestful manner, looking at her straight in the face. Lena just laughed it off, clueless to the fact that you weren't lying.
⋆˙⟡♡ The game was going to start soon and you were getting incredibly anxious. You were going to see Alexia after months of no contact. It felt like you were having an out-of-body experience.
Soon, it was time for the players to march in. Your seats were premium which meant that you were right at the player's tunnel — the first people to see them all enter.
Promise that you'll cheer for me?
The memory echoed in your head over and over again in the past hour. You felt a pang in your heart. There was a part of you that felt guilty for leaving Alexia without a single goodbye.
But you figured this was your way of making it up to her — by fulfilling that promise.
As soon as the players walked out with their mascots, you stood up and started to cheer her name. You felt like a shrill fangirl and you could feel the eyes on you from all the Juventus fans on your side but you didn't care all too much. You were keeping that promise.
"Alexia! Alexia!" You cheered, jumping on your feet.
Pretty soon, the blonde took notice of the loud cheering that came from the Juventus side, ready to flash her beautiful, charming smile at a brave fan but when she saw you in that crowd, her face fell.
Alexia felt like she was actually dreaming when she saw you, wearing the previous season's kit as you screamed her name, locking eyes with her. (And were you beside Bayern player, Lena Oberdorf?)
It genuinely looked like one of the several dreams she had of you in the past month; it felt hard to believe that you were here and that she was awake.
You stopped cheering and just flashed a genuine smile at her as you waved at her. Soon, a smile grew on her face again; her entire face lit up as she realized that it was all real and that you were really there, cheering for her. She tried to walk towards you but hesitated, possibly remembering that she had a game to play.
"Go, go!" You mouthed at her and gestured for her to go along and play already. You felt a few tears fall from your eyes which you quickly wiped away. Alexia just nodded as you gestured for her to go on, motivated to give her best now that she knew you were watching.
You had no idea why you were suddenly tearing up. It must have been the overwhelming emotions or the sense of fulfillment of keeping your promise to her that you would cheer her name. You weren't sure what it was exactly; all you knew was that it was all tears of joy.
Alexia smiled at you one more time and kept her eyes on you for as long as she could. You smiled back, unable to stop the tears now.
As she ran off to the pitch, still turning her head back occasionally to see if you were really there, you screamed. "Go Alexia!"
She gave you one last look and a smile before the game started. And finally, you felt that emptiness inside you get filled.
You were finally healed.
a/n: hope you guys liked it! if you did, please reblog and leave me your thoughts. (but please be nice... i am a fragile creature.) anyway, thank you for patiently waiting for this! i only did one read through it so there may be some errors which i'll just edit later on lol!
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