#a city world without apartments
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caithyra · 2 years ago
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The Sims 4: Growing Together - San Sequoia - Unplayable Lots
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hellspawnmotel · 2 years ago
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terranigma, a cool game
#terranigma#terranigma ark#terranigma elle#terranigma meilin#art tag#im going to write a little review in the tags bear with me#first the negative:#the magic system is weird to use and basically useless apart from one boss thats almost impossible without magic#it has some weird racism like most old games where you travel around the world. a little more egregious since its supposed to be real earth#i found the main character to be slightly insufferable for about 3/4ths of the game. i came around on him by the end tho. he grows up a lot#and i found whats by far the largest section of the game (chapter 3) to be the least interesting#im not really into helping cities develop and trade quests tho so it might just be me#oh also it is STUPID easy to permanently lock yourself out of like 15 sidequests#and theres a lot of mandatory things that are really hard to figure out. you need to use a walkthrough for this#anyway thats what i didnt like#what i DID like tho. i dont want to get into too much detail but#its a genuinely beautiful game for so much of it#there were so many moments that left me speechless#its high-concept and thoughtful and fun to play#you dont really need to do much grinding either#at its worst its obtuse and cliche but at its best its breathtaking#and i really recommend more people check it out#special shoutout to my friend seona who modded my 3DS and downloaded a bunch of roms including this one#so in conclusion. terranigma is an underrated gem. play it if youre a 90s jrpg junkie like me#just have a walkthrough open also lol
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faaun · 9 months ago
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she says my heart is yours, from the caspian shores.
#in astana there is haunting symmetry. in the summer there are flowers breathing fresh air and fumes. in the winter ice covers the park#sole-deep so you let the LCD screen advertisements warm your heart. the serpent offers her a gold apple from a brass tree.#she bites the serpent. in london a biochemistry graduate becomes obsessed and beautiful. she designs gene sequencing devices.#she says the rubber components smell like cinnamon.#in tashkent the trees shine under the sun and the sky is vast. by the blue pond and the tall marble spires you see the fractal patterns#on the ceiling in her eyes. she feels like a strobe light firing onto your eyelids. she takes revenge. you can hear the water droplets fall#from into the fountain. she tells you about cre-lox knockout and how you should head into the city cafe and you cant#stop staring into her eyes and you can't listen very well. when she laughs all your hearts almost become an ocean.#in bishkek you suffer death by a thousand sunsets. your world is white and lilac and mountainous. you learn about the joy of#taking without giving. backstage of the opera theatre you kiss him again and again and again until briefly you are the apex.#in tehran the sun is almost as fervent as their full-up lungs (it takes up the span of your window. crisp edges through a particulate storm#they spend an hour making a 10-minute ride to chamran and the wheels are melting. the two girls in the car spend that time wisely.#the air is filled with smog so she breathes her instead. you like how she looks at you like she'll rip you apart.#here they sold the mountaintops. the girls take a brother'a army-issued rifle to the forest with them.#she says she could start a war. she says my heart is yours، from the caspian shores.
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zincbot · 1 year ago
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man i think the amon plotline is just kind of weak in terms of world building
#lok#i've seen posts discussing this with more nuance#but it's still so soon after the hundred year war#republic city is new too. only a generation old. majority of its population are either 1st or 2nd generation immigrants#or earth kingdom citizens or fire nation colonists who built what became the city during the war#and the way that bending is distributed among the population of every nation is entire random. it's an odd choice to mark it as a dividing#a dividing line. because every bender has family that are nonbenders and vice versa#and! add to that that unless you are trained just being born a bender isn't an intrinsic leverage over a nonbender. untrained benders#and benders without a lot of power exist. able to do party tricks and not much more#it likens to. people who's bodies are more naturally built to handle manual labour. it's just genetics and random luck#of course there could be interesting ways to tackle bender and nonbender dynamics especially with the religious significance of bending#and in mixed cultures how bending being passed on can be a surrfire way you are truly seen as carrying on that side of your culture#and it could be interesting seeing the culture shift as republic city is the first place to have such a wide mix of different cultures#in things like food and festivals#but a nonbender revolution (especially led by a bender like amon) is odd. like what is the goal of the revolution#bending and nonbending people can't be seperated in any meaningful way. and there are already laws and rules#prohibiting destructive bending use just as there are regular destruction#it's just. the revolution seeks to remove bending from the world. that's obviously a wild thing to say with cultures built around and with#bending as a part of them. add that to the fact that benders can be born from non-bending families and it just falls apart.
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scientia-rex · 10 months ago
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For the most part, my approach to prescribing hormones is “sure,” but I will note that the one thing I lean HARD on patients about is smoking. If you’re transgender, and you’re on hormones, the number one thing we want to protect is your cardiovascular health. That’s frankly the number one thing I want to protect in all my patients, but anyone taking exogenous hormones is at higher baseline risk. And the best thing you can do for your heart is DON’T SMOKE. It’s a bitch to quit, and I didn’t even smoke much or long before I quit in my late teens, and I STILL didn’t enjoy quitting and had smoking dreams for years. It’s harder to quit than just about anything else up to and including crack and heroin, and that’s coming from a patient of mine who recently passed in her early 60s who’d done all of those things—for years and years—but eventually was able to quit everything except smoking. And that killed her. She developed severe COPD and eventually called to say her blood oxygen saturation was dipping into the 70s, which is incompatible with life. She was lucid enough to decline medical care, including refusing to call 911 or go to the ER. A week later, after both I and one of our outreach nurses had contacted her to ask her to please go to the ER, I got a notification that she’d been found dead. She had been so frustrated that she wasn’t a candidate for a lung transplant.
One of my oldest trans patients is in her late 50s. She’s had blood clots that went to the lungs. Repeatedly. Smoking raises that risk. Estrogen raises that risk. She’s a veteran with PTSD; of course she smoked.
These aren’t theoretical. These are humans I’ve cared for over years of their lives. I have been rooting for them—my beloved former addict, who spoke without shame about her years of homelessness and drug use in the city; my queer elders, who are slowly trading in their motorcycles for power scooters. I want everyone to live their fullest, best life.
Smoking doesn’t fit into that. Please don’t smoke. I don’t want you to die like that—not now and not later. I want you to have the future that you may not be able to see yet, but exists.
Since I moved home as an out queer, word got out, and there’s a whole apartment complex of lesbians in their 60s to their 80s who come see me—sitting next to their wives in the office, nagging about blood pressure meds, tattling about not having gotten the shingles shot they said they would. To be clear, when I was growing up in town, I knew no lesbians. Not one. I knew one gay kid in my class, which eventually turned into two. We were it. To see these women living decades with their wives and being able to squabble like any couple in my office over who was supposed to bring their home blood pressure cuff in for us to check it… it means the world to me.
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ketchuppee · 1 year ago
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During the 2008 recession, my aunt lost her job. Her, her partner, and my three cousins moved across the country to stay with us while they got back on their feet. My house turned from a family of four to a family of nine overnight, complete with three dogs and five cats between us.
It took a few years for them to get a place of their own, but after a few rentals and apartments, they now own a split level ranch in a town nearby. I’ve lost track of how many coworkers and friends have stayed with them when they were in a tight spot. A mother and son getting out of an abusive relationship, a divorcee trying to stay local for his kids while they work out a custody agreement, you name it. My aunt and uncle knew first hand what that kindness meant, and always find space for someone who needed it, the way my parents had for them.
That same aunt and uncle visited me in [redacted] city last year. They are prolific drinkers, so we spent most of the day bar hopping. As we wandered the city, any time we passed a homeless person, my uncle would pull out a fresh cigarette and ask them if they had a light. Regardless of if they had a lighter on hand or not, he offered them a few bucks in exchange, which he explained to me after was because he felt it would be easier for them to accept in exchange for a service, no matter how small.
I work for a company that produces a lot of fabric waste. Every few weeks, I bring two big black trash bags full of discarded material over to a woman who works down the hall. She distributes them to local churches, quilting clubs, and teachers who can use them for crafts. She’s currently in the process of working with our building to set up a recycling program for the smaller pieces of fabric that are harder to find use for.
One of my best friends gives monthly donations to four or five local organizations. She’s fortunate enough to have a tech job that gives her a good salary, and she knows that a recurring donation is more valuable to a non-profit because they can rely on that money month after month, and can plan ways to stretch that dollar for maximum impact. One of those organizations is a native plant trust, and once she’s out of her apartment complex and in a home with a yard, she has plans to convert it into a haven of local flora.
My partner works for a company that is working to help regulate crypto and hold the current bad actors in the space accountable for their actions. We unfortunately live in a time where technology develops far too fast for bureaucracy to keep up with, but just because people use a technology for ill gain doesn’t mean the technology itself is bad. The blockchain is something that she finds fascinating and powerful, and she is using her degree and her expertise to turn it into a tool for good.
I knew someone who always had a bag of treats in their purse, on the odd chance they came across a stray cat or dog, they had something to offer them.
I follow artists who post about every local election they know of, because they know their platform gives them more reach than the average person, and that they can leverage that platform to encourage people to vote in elections that get less attention, but in many ways have more impact on the direction our country is going to go.
All of this to say, there’s more than one way to do good in the world. Social media leads us to believe that the loudest, the most vocal, the most prolific poster is the most virtuous, but they are only a piece of the puzzle. (And if virtue for virtues sake is your end goal, you’ve already lost, but that’s a different post). Community is built of people leveraging their privileges to help those without them. We need people doing all of those things and more, because no individual can or should do all of it. You would be stretched too thin, your efforts valiant, but less effective in your ambition.
None of this is to encourage inaction. Identify your unique strengths, skills, and privileges, and put them to use. Determine what causes are important to you, and commit to doing what you can to help them. Collective action is how change is made, but don’t forget that we need diversity in actions taken.
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prettyboybuck · 1 year ago
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lemme find a fanfic to read and lay in bed and drink a glass of wine cause I deserve it and I’m so sad tn
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zosan-secondchances · 2 months ago
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The Pirate King of the North
Main Themes: Villain Sanji, Alternate Universe, Zosan Ship
AU where Straw Hat Pirates meet old Sanji from a reality where Reiju didn't have emotions.
Warning: Long post ahead and some One Piece spoilers. Contains strong language.
Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12
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Young Zoro hates the fucker but those scars and piercings are doing a number to his soul.
Old Sanji's story goes like this:
He didn't experience compassion from anyone else aside from his mother, who--you know what happened.
Judge kept him locked away until he was 13. He had him released when he was deemed too broken to do anything, and he was apparently a waste of space. As far as the world was concerned, he was already dead. He gets left behind at some random pirate town in the North.
His swirly brows were recognized by the pirates who took him in--only for him to be enslaved because people would pay a lot to have their way with royalty.
He picked up some skills from the other slaves and became cunning af--because he had to be.
At 17 he started a revolt against the slaver pirates, effectively taking over as their new pirate captain.
He became the feared "Mr. Prince" and his words are as sharp as his bite.
He's underweight because he doesn't give two shits about good food.
"The All Blue? It's nothing but an old fishwive's tale," he says.
He used his cunning mind and new pirate crew to hunt down and kill his own father from the shadows.
He enslaved his own siblings and becomes the new ruler of Germa Kingdom. Over the years, he used them for warfare and expanded the territory of the North.
His heart is a bottomless pit for power and control.
He had a fling or two or several with is closely allied with Doflamingo because god damn they're both mad like that. The alliance eventually lead to direct connections with Celestial Dragons.
Sanji gains more power and becomes the notorious "Pirate King of the North"
Meanwhile at the other side of the world, Luffy didn't make it as far as he could have without a good cook.
Luffy would have recruited one from Baratie but the restaurant was absolutely destroyed before the smaller Straw Hat crew could make a difference. Some of the staff didn't make it.
Zoro left the crew when it fell apart at some point.
Due to Zoro's reputation and bounty that he had occurred during his limited time with Luffy, he was offered a position as a Warlord, ultimately taking over the late Jinbe's old role. He accepted and served for several years before he was assigned a job that he didn't know would be the most challenging one yet.
The Celestial Dragons didn't like the fact that Sanji had started to have more worldly control over their own, so Zoro was quietly assigned to hunt down the great Pirate King of the North. Zoro accepted because he felt that he needed more experience before he could take on Mihawk again.
Zoro quickly realised that this mission is not a walk in the park.
Sanji loves toying with the Demon Warlord so he insists on taking him on by himself.
It becomes an endless game of cat and mouse. Sometimes Sanji chases and sometimes he runs, sometimes he wins and sometimes he loses.
They're at each others' throats everywhere in the world. Any person, city or being of any kind that gets in the way usually gets torn apart in the chaos. The hunt goes on for a lifetime. They're currently in their 40's.
Zoro severs Sanji's left arm during one huge fight.
Because of this, Sanji relentlessly tries to get Zoro to marry him to use him in so many ways he can think of--both as an asset and under the sheets--oh the things that he wants the swordsman to do and beg for.
Sanji likes to refer to the tiniest scar on his lip as "Zoro's love bite"
He was about to get a nice fresh one on his chest when some fuckers teleported him away.
Hearing old Sanji's backstory was a bit much. It was young Zoro's turn to have a nosebleed that day.
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Oh yes I had fun drawing old silver fox, damaged Sanji. I wish I have the time to colour it up. I've also been very much into reading AU stories, especially soul brand ones. Keep them coming, you beautiful people.
Edit: Woo! I finally decided to make my own AO3 account. It's about time. Link here for the story: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60686077
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fairyysoup · 6 months ago
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easy living
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pairing: eric (a quiet place: day one) x fem!reader
summary: You ran into Eric on accident. Now you're facing the end of the world together. How do you get to know someone when you can't make a sound?
tags: smut, oral (f receiving), dry humping, piv sex, silent fucking, angst, hurt/comfort, survival, discussions of trauma, slight suicidal ideation by reader, words of affirmation as a love language, stay silent or die (obviously), strangers to lovers, apocalyptic, the cheesiest ending bc it's me writing, billie holiday lyrics bc it's also me writing
a/n: here it is, the silent fucking fic i promised y'all a year ago when this movie was announced. it was supposed to be like 1-2k words of plain smut but then I got too into the theory of what one does when you can't show affection through words and I genuinely discovered a tidbit of trauma I didn't know I had while writing it so I will be talking to a therapist about it, and also I'm literally out here baring my soul lol.
i also want to thank @bigtiddythanos @raraeavesmoriendi and @maximoffwxnda for supporting me throughout this writing process <3 this fic literally would not have been finished or published without y'all
ALL MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI
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The rain has ended. Morose, you stare up at the ceiling, wondering when you’ll get something close to free reign with your voice again. 
Of course the world had to end while you were at fucking Whole Foods.
You’ll miss certain things. Things you always took for granted, that you never even considered made a lot of noise until now. Typing on the computer. Making stir fry. Microwaving a burrito at 3am. Lighting a match, washing your face. Taking a shower.
And other things, too, that are more obvious, like singing while making cookies. Slurping the bottom of a milkshake. You’ll never be able to have a pet bird. You’ll never be able to see another concert again, and damn it if you didn’t really want those Glastonbury tickets a month ago. But it all just seems trivial, now. You don’t see why you shouldn’t just lay here on the couch forever. 
On the other side of the coffee table there’s a gentle shuffling. Eric rouses as quietly as he can; at the very least, your apartment creates a hospitable enough environment that he isn’t startled awake. It’s so silent in the apartment that you can hear the slight shift in his intake of breath, the rustle of the pillow as he turns his head to look at you. 
You want to look at him, but you fear that you’ll end up wanting to talk. So, you say nothing. You do nothing. You stare at the white paint on the ceiling and you wonder whether it would be better to get on one of the boats headed out into the water, or to move inland, away from people, away from sound. There has to be somewhere far enough away from the city that the… creatures won’t go, right?
Eric waves his hand in your periphery, so that you have no choice but to acknowledge that you know he’s awake. You have no choice but to turn your head and look into the depths of his eyes, and feel all the pain of the last 48 hours return to you. You’d been able to talk last night, just enough, in time with the rain and the thunder– enough to learn that he has family across the world. 
You can’t imagine knowing that somewhere, across an ocean and half a world away, your parents may or may not be dead. No way to contact them, no way to know what’s become of them. You can’t even begin to fathom the fear that he’s feeling, as much as you’re despairing. 
Eric’s big eyes tell you everything. Sadness and fear, and trying to grasp at the smallest hint of normalcy he can get. He blinks at you, and mouths, You okay?
No, you’re definitely not okay. Things are not okay. Things are broken and can’t be fixed. Things will never be the same again. He knows that, as much as you know that. But you nod anyway, even though you feel your heart beat a little bit slower than usual, like it wants to just go ahead and give up already. Tears prick at your eyes, and you have to close them before you let on that you’re lying.
Eric knows you’re lying, of course. How could anyone be okay, in this kind of situation? But he waits until you open your eyes, and then he mouths, Coffee?
You let out a small sigh of relief, and a smile that’s indescribably warm crosses your face. Even though he can’t make a sound, he knows exactly what to say.
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You don’t have a coffee maker that doesn’t also make a ton of noise. But through some kind of witchcraft, Eric quietly empties two k-cups into a glass measuring cup and boils a soup pot full of water on the stove, and suddenly you have hot coffee in front of you. 
On a notepad left on the counter, you write, Wish I had some tea for you. 
Eric’s lips turn up at the edges, and he takes the pen from you. You’re able to doctor your coffee for about one second before he slides the notepad back to you.
Bloody American.
Your ensuing huff of a laugh is enough to make him turn pink around the ears, and he turns to place the dirty measuring cup into the sink. He reaches for the faucet, but then thinks better of it. You’ll have to figure out how to wash the dishes later.
You both drink your coffee in silence on the couch. You never considered yourself uncomfortable with silence; you’ve lived alone, you’ve gone for weeks without uttering a word before. But it’s so difficult to be sitting next to someone– someone you feel you could really get to like– and not be able to say a word. To make a sound, laugh or cry or snort or grunt. 
You’ll never be able to know what Eric’s laugh sounds like, or listen to his favorite song with him, or watch some stupid rerun of Friends with him while ignoring your responsibilities. He’s right there next to you, he’s risked his life to save you once already, and yet he’s so far away. You’ll never get to know him in all the ways you want to. Will you ever really know him at all?
He’d created a diversion when one of the fucking things had you trapped in a corner, between a dumpster and a brick wall. He chucked a rock at a car and set off an alarm, and then ran with you down an alleyway, his arm wrapped tight around your waist. Eric looked so sad, following you like a lost puppy. He was fucking drenched, too, so you know he’d probably been through one hell of a morning. And then the rain started, and the creatures were confused and… well, you weren’t just gonna leave him, scared and alone.
You, too, were scared and alone.
Eric’s hand appears to brush away a tear that had begun to fall down your cheek, betraying your internal monologue. You look to him with puffy eyes, and he pulls his hand away, suddenly unsure of whether you’re okay with such an intimate gesture. 
Your coffee cup meets the table with a quiet tap. You’re slow to move, but you scoot towards him, his arm still outstretched towards you, his eyes wide. Eric has the prettiest eyes in the world, you think. You want to tell him so.
But you’re a little too choked up to form words, anyways. Your forehead meets Eric’s shoulder, and his arm comes around you before you can huff the first silent sob that brims up. He coos softly into your hair, so softly that you can barely hear it, but it conveys enough. It does enough. 
The world is fucked. Your life is fucked. You have tunnel vision and you can only see things getting worse from here on; the only good thing you know anymore is holding you and caressing your head so gently that it pushes your tears out for you. 
You’ll never get to see a movie in a theater, and smell the stale popcorn again. You’ll never drive down the highway with the wind in your hair. You’ll never ride a roller coaster or sing karaoke. You’ll never go to a club and have a drunken heart to heart with a stranger in a bathroom.
“Do you think it’s worth it?” You whisper, so faintly that it’s barely above a breath, your lips pressed to the shell of his ear. “To try to exist in a world where you have to pretend like you don’t exist?”
Eric pauses, holding you to him. You can see the wheels turning in his head, while he tries to figure out what to say. Then he turns his face to put his lips against your ear, the same way you’d done to him. 
“I think it’s worth it to try to survive.” His breath tickles your skin when he whispers, “So survive with me, yeah?”
You nod solemnly, your tears threatening to rise up again. “I can’t stand not talking to you.” It’s so hard to keep your voice from cracking, from rising above the merest hint of a whisper, directly to him and no one or nothing else. 
Eric takes it in stride. “You are talking to me.” He pulls back and bats his eyelashes, and you think, he oughta fucking know what that does to me. 
“Not like this,” you breathe to him, because that’s really what it is– it’s a breath. A sigh. A gust of air and nothing else, barely anything that registers on your vocal chords. Your hand on the back of his neck, pulling him close to you. His hand, tightening on the middle of your back, holding you there. “I want to talk– I want to get to know you.” 
“Well, this isn’t so bad, is it?” Eric turns his head. His forehead nudges yours at the temple, and you swear you see a flash of a smile on his face. “What do you want to know?” 
His forefinger traces up and down, up and down, a gentle pattern that keeps you grounded. You bite your lip, trying to keep from letting the sounds come out too loud. You say the first thing that comes to mind. “What’s your favorite song?”
“Easy Living. Billie Holiday.” 
“You’re kidding.” You’re blushing, hot in the cheeks. You’re imagining it; slow dancing in the kitchen with him while oldies plays on the radio. You didn’t think such an innocent question would send you spiraling like this, but it hurts worse to know that it will probably never happen.
“Absolutely not.” 
“Somehow… I can’t picture you listening to jazz.” 
“Picture it all you want,” he whispers. Eric swallows, and continues, “My granddad used to have these records, and we used to play them on Christmas. But when– when he died, the records went missing. I couldn’t find the song until a couple years ago,” he explains, and his voice cracks just slightly into a murmur. 
You both freeze. You wait for the sound of creatures coming down the hallway, busting down the walls… nothing happens. You let out a breath, and you pull his face closer to yours. His eyes flick over your face, and you put your lips against his ear. 
“You have to be so quiet. Can you do that for me?” Eric nods in your hands. “I wish we could do anything but this. I wish that we could have met in better circumstances. I wish… I wish I had known you before all of this. I think we would have had a lot of fun. But if this is the only way I can get to know you, and hear your voice now, I’ll take it.” You’re nodding as well now, like you’re trying to convince yourself of it. “I’m telling you this because I don’t know how long we have. Together, I mean. And I don’t want to waste it passing notes. Okay?” 
“Okay.” He sounds clipped. His hand fidgets on your back, and you pull away to find him misty-eyed, his brows turned up. He fishes for words that don’t come, and then he nods. “Okay.” 
Neither of you move. The atmosphere around you feels heavy, like it’s pressing in on all sides. Eric’s hand slides up your back and to your face, and you remember that you’re still holding his. You’re near sitting in his lap with how close you’ve become, and the realization of that feels like a punch to the gut.
You think you should pull away. You don’t. 
Eric’s thumb traces a gentle arc across your bottom lip. It’s so featherlight it’s barely there– his eyes are honed in on your mouth, clearly lost in thought. You’d let him stay there as long as he wants, but you want every minute you can get. “Eric–”
He closes the gap and kisses you. The way you’d said his name– or not said it, rather, you sort of mouthed it against his thumb– had done the job you wanted it to. It feels like this was the obvious conclusion to the system you’d worked out, the close proximity and your shared fears. He’s scared, he said as much last night. You’re scared, you said so just now. 
Nowhere to go, nothing else to do except be right here, living. Alive, together. Kissing Eric, and him pulling you close by the waist, so that you do swing your leg and seat yourself in his lap. And as much as you love talking, and it breaks your heart that you can’t jabber at him, there are some things you just can’t put into words. Like the way that his hand on the back of your neck lights you up inside, or that you can’t think of anything other than all the areas where his skin is touching yours, and how you suddenly wish there was way more of them.
It’s stupid how much you like him already, really. You can feel your nonexistent friends clucking their tongues and shaking their heads, saying, “One day? That’s all it takes? You find some guy at the end of the world and you fall in love in 24 hours?” And they’d be right– maybe it’s not love. Not yet, anyways. But you could see it easily becoming that. And that fact scares you even more.
Your hands find Eric’s chest and the frantic beating of his heart tells you nearly the same thing. You break the kiss, trying to quietly catch your breath without gasping like you’re half-drowning. It’s harder than you expected. 
“Been wanting to do that all morning,” Eric whispers. And just like that you’re falling again, faster this time, like he’s just melted your wings right off and sent you plummeting.
You struggle to keep from gasping aloud when he kisses your jaw, just beneath your ear. It’s the lightest touch but you swear it burns, sears your skin. 
Your hands find the back of the couch, twitchy fingers digging in to keep you steady. Your mouth finds his again, his tongue tasting of coffee, and Eric kisses you a bit harder now, a bit sloppier. 
Breaking away, you open your eyes to find his wide, starstruck, his mouth hanging open like he’s been shocked beyond belief. You didn’t honestly intend for this to happen– you wanted to talk. But somehow this seems better, more appropriate. 
How do you get your feelings across when talking isn’t really an option? When innocent attraction becomes… whatever this is? 
You press a single finger to his plush lips, signaling exactly what you mean without a word. Quiet. 
Eric purses his lips, kisses your finger without breaking eye contact. His pupils are blown out so far that the barest hint of golden brown surrounds them, glinting in the sunlight from the window. 
You lean forward, until your mouth touches his ear. “Your eyes are so fucking pretty, Eric,” you whisper to him, and your teeth latch onto his earlobe to tug gently. You can’t help it– you grind your hips down into his lap, without even thinking of doing it. “You’re so pretty.”
Eric whimpers. It’s a soft sound, hollow in the back of his throat, but it’s still too loud for the world that you’re in. You clamp your hand down over his mouth, and his breath comes out sharp and hot over your knuckles as he tries to regain composure.
“Do you want me to stop?” You ask him, whispering gently in his ear. Against you, he shakes his head no. “Want me to keep going?” Eric nods his head yes. 
He’s shaking under you, his fingertips digging into your lower back like he can’t hold onto you hard enough. At the thought, your pulse pounds, blood positively humming through your veins. 
You nuzzle his cheek, and give him the sweetest kiss you can while your hand is still clamped over his mouth insistently. “You have to be. Fucking. Silent. Do you understand?” He nods. “We can’t make a sound. Okay?” 
Eric nods again, and keeps nodding until you let him go. If the rain was still pouring like earlier, you could tell him how much you want him, too. How you don’t want to be mean, you just don’t want to get hurt. This is a bad idea, all things considered. But Eric slides his hand down and cups your ass to lift you up a bit, and the words bad and idea suddenly fucking vanish from your vocabulary.
You stand long enough to kick off your sweats, your day old panties going down with them. You hadn’t dressed to be sexy yesterday, you dressed to get groceries. You don’t necessarily want Eric to see your faded cotton underwear with the stretched out elastic and multiple frayed holes. You don’t think it would add to your sex appeal right now. 
He doesn’t notice the lack of a strip tease– he’s already taking you by the hips, not even waiting for you to shuck your t-shirt. He pulls until you’re stood in front of him, and then hooks your leg over his shoulder. 
So. Eric doesn’t need to be asked to go down on you, he just does. The gentleman. His hands are firm on your ass as he nuzzles into the patch of hair between your legs, and the precarious balancing act makes you snatch onto the back of the couch again. 
His tongue glides through the folds of your pussy slowly, methodically. You aren’t sure if he wants to take his time, or if he’s going slow so that he doesn’t make too much noise when doing it, but he latches onto your clit and sucks agonizingly softly, like he knows he should do it harder but won’t risk making you moan. 
It’s so gentle, and it builds. Pretty soon, you’re having a tough time keeping your whimpers in, even when he’s basically just teasing you, flicking his tongue over your clit with even the barest pressure. Your head has fallen back on your shoulders, your hand now clasped over your own mouth to stifle your sighs. 
Then, Eric’s hand glides up to splay across your lower back, and he sucks long and hard at your clit, and your hand squeezes murderously at the back of the couch while you ride out your orgasm on his tongue. 
Knees buckling, you collapse into Eric’s lap. He has a doe-eyed look on his face that’s way too innocent after what he just did to you. With panting breath and shaking hands, you cup his rosy cheeks in your palms, shaking your head in disbelief. 
Eric’s brows tilt in worry, like he did something wrong. He opens his mouth, but you put your fingers against his lips to silence him, and lean forward to breathe, “You’re too sweet for me, Eric.” 
He traces his fingers lightly up your spine, and turns his head. “Maybe one day I won’t have to be sweet. Maybe then I can really fuck you.” 
The sound of his whispering voice in your ear makes you shiver, your lust reaching a boiling point. The idea of him really fucking you– that this isn’t even him as normal, that he’s having to hold so much back– makes you burn hot all at once. That this isn’t something he’s planning on doing once. That there’s a ‘one day’ that he sees in the future with you in it. 
With a nod, your breath catches in your throat. You find your way to his mouth again, kissing him desperately. You can taste yourself lingering on his lips, and your hips rock forward against his again. 
Eric inhales sharply, stifling his own moan. You guess you have to take it just as slowly as he did, ease him into it. You work your hand beneath his unbuttoned fly and palm him, keeping your touch gentle against his hot skin. He shakes, his hands laid out against your spine, his eyes sparkling when he looks up at you. 
You push your forehead against his as you sink onto his cock, letting yourself adjust to his size. His breath stutters as he tries to keep quiet, small puffs of air spilling out and meeting your electrified skin. You curl your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, rocking your hips just barely, settling into his lap. 
This is more intimate than you can ever remember being with anyone, but right now it just feels right. Maybe it could be cathartic to fuck like a couple of animals in the face of doom, but Eric pulls your body flush against his, one strong forearm around your waist, and his nose nudges yours, and you think this is better. This is what you both need. Closeness. Sweetness. 
There isn’t a lot of movement– you can’t risk it. You and Eric seem to be in agreement on that, because as soon as you start trying to move in earnest, he just pulls you back to him, his arm around your waist and his hand petting the back of your head. 
Eric rocks his hips up into yours slowly, deeply, and it’s the depth of it and the slow sensuality that keeps you floating. Your clit catches on the patch of hair at the base of his cock each time you roll your hips with him, and you have to kiss him to keep from keening aloud. He doesn’t seem to mind it. 
You know he’s close when he tucks his face against your neck, his arm tightening around you. “Feels so fucking good,” comes his whine in your ear, and you gently shush him, your hand resting on the back of his head to keep him muffled against your shoulder. You want so badly to look at his face when he cums, but there’s that pesky issue of staying alive, and that hinges on whether or not he can keep quiet when he does. 
To his credit, he bites your shoulder and only whimpers a little bit. It’s just a squeak, but really, he could have been much louder about it, and then you would have both been in trouble. Imagine having to run for your life with your pants down. 
Ever the gentleman, he keeps you there even after he’s spent and sensitive, his hand clamped down on your thigh to prevent you from moving. His thumb finds your clit, and he lifts his head to watch you, his hooded eyes trained on your face as he brings you to the edge and over it again. He watches the way your brows tilt up, the way you struggle to keep your own eyes open, and the silent moan that threatens to break past your parted lips.
Eric claps his hand down over your mouth before it can. Your eyes fly open, your cunt clenches down around him, and he bares his teeth as you cum hard. It’s cyclical, comes in waves as he continues to stroke you through it, as he keeps his hand clamped down on your mouth to keep you quiet. 
To keep you quiet. 
Feverish and exhausted, you come down with your chest against his, Eric’s head flopped back onto the backrest of the couch. Your knees fucking hurt and you have yet to get off of him, and you sort of dread the moment when you have to. But this means your mouth is positioned right next to Eric’s ear, and you’re nothing if not a talker.
“Eric?” you whisper, and he turns his head just enough to let you know he heard you. “I’m glad that I met you when I did. Even if it’s terrible timing, I’m glad we met.”
A sweet, tired smile flits across Eric’s beautiful face. He nudges his nose against your temple. “I’m glad, too.” 
You shift off of him, and he squeezes your thigh just at the same time as he scrunches his face. He’s such a trooper about it, you kiss his cheek as you go, leaning over to grab a pair of earphones from the coffee table. 
You hand one ear bud to him, watching as confusion crosses his face. He watches you type on your phone as he tucks the bud into his ear, and you the other. 
On low volume, you listen to the soft piano and saxophone intro to an old jazz standard. Eric grins, his hand finding your cheek before he pulls you in for a kiss. 
And then, Billie Holiday’s voice plays for only you two to hear. 
Living for you is easy living, It’s easy to live when you’re in love And I’m so in love, There’s nothing in life but you.
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kosher-salt · 4 months ago
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Just saw a post that was basically "Hey off of the internet people usually aren't so crazy antisemitic and most of my day to day interactions as a visible Jew are normal, everything is gonna be ok" and I'm making a new post to not derail, but...
I'm super glad, obviously, that this is the case for many of you. But I do think we should be ringing the alarm bells. Because while you enjoy your grocery trips and post office in relative peace (as you ought to), here is a VERY incomplete list of things I have dealt with in the last 11 months.
-assaulted on my way to class, followed, spit on repeatedly (magen David necklace)
-professor took me outside of class and told me I needed to denounce my Judaism (I mentioned in passing my dad's family in an anthropology class)
-same professor refused to accept my final paper for reasons that did not match up with paper, email full of dogwhistles
-same professor told everyone to attend the protests and "teach those zionists to know their place" she is a Black Latina young professor. Yep.
-another professor straight up refused to accept any assignments that mentioned Jewishness (they were assignments about our families). Gave a student who submitted nothing except a picture of a Palestinian flag full marks. Failed me. I am an all As student, btw. Forced to drop.
-the chair of the anthropology department threw my complaints wabout said professors away without due process. His social media is full of blood libel.
-had to miss my finals as I could not physically get to them due to the protests
-followed and harassed in stores
-synagogue was vandalized multiple times
-called a kike while things were thrown at me
-protestors stood outside of my apartment patio with final solution signs
-new apartment, away from campus: friends of roommates harassed me constantly, to the point I could not use common spaces. Roommates told me that's his right because it's his "political view." He didn't even live there.
-new roommate moved in, less than 48 hours before she attempts to stab me, after learning I eat kosher style. "...kosher? kosher?! FUCK YOU" stab stab, etc. Bitch that was my good knife.
-the other roommates tell me to gtfo of the home I'm renting, keeping my rent ("you people can afford to lose money") and destroy a good portion of my belongings while cursing to me random nonsense about Israel. The police took 25 minutes to get there. We live in the middle of the city.
-fun fact: I had never mentioned my political stance to these people and it's not on my face-out social media (very bare bones profiles)
-been disbelieved by everyone I told this to including the police, my school, the leasing company, and my now ex best friend of 7 years
-cursed at in a store when I asked if there was a kosher section
-told nobody likes Jews because we bring down the vibe and have a victim complex. My knuckles are healing just fine after that, btw, thank you for asking! She is not.
I don't know how to request the 7th off from my school without basically incriminating myself with a threat of violence. There is no world where I just sit there when a classmate says "happy October 7th."
Hope this helps.
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fushiguro-megloomy · 1 month ago
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strawberry wine
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[part 2] pairing: modern au!viktor x artist!reader prompt: “if somebody were to kiss me, i’d want that person to be you” tags: you're jayces childhood bff, no use of y/n, alcohol, heavy kissing, drunk kissing, basically just a bunch of buildup towards a smutty fwb part two???, viktor being a menace wc: 4k notes: AU where nobody is sick or dying yay! also i think i managed to keep this pretty gn!reader but any future parts will be afab/fem art is from pinterest, dividers from chachachannah & webc00re
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You never meant for things to get this far. You told yourself it was just a little fun, harmless and fleeting—nothing more. You had a career to focus on, friendships in the balance. But now, here you are, pacing the living room carpet thin, your cuticles raw from nervous chewing, and your thoughts spiraling into places you swore they’d never go.
It feels juvenile, almost laughable, like some smitten teenager waiting by the phone and sneaking kisses in shadowed corners. You were supposed to be above this, weren’t you? I mean, as a grown adult you should know how to keep it casual, uncomplicated. 
But nothing about this is simple anymore. Not the friendship. Not the secrets. And certainly not the way your heart betrays you every time his name crosses your mind.
It definitely wasn’t supposed to be like this.
Moving back to the city hadn’t been on the bingo card for this year, but here you were. Your life had been tucked away in the quiet of rural landscapes, where your art had room to breathe—endless skies, rolling hills, and the kind of solitude that made inspiration flow without any distractions. But your career had expanded, and with that expansion came the relentless pressure of galleries, art buyers, and a future that demanded more from you than that peaceful escape ever could. 
So, the city had called you back. Concrete towers, crowded streets, the city offered more. Shows. Opportunities. Jayce. The only thing about this cold, steel jungle that still felt like home. Jayce—your childhood friend, your constant in a world that had never stopped changing. Thrown together since you were practically in diapers, he was the one piece of your old life that had somehow survived the years and distance between you two. And now, after what felt like an eternity, here he was, sprawled across your tiny couch, looking too comfortable for someone who was just supposed to be a guest. The apartment was a bit small, as city apartments tended to be—packed between towering neighbors—but Jayce’s presence was the only thing about it that felt remotely like home.
"You know," he said, half-lounging. “I’ve got someone I want you to meet.”
You didn’t look up from your canvas, your brush already dipping into the paints like second nature. “Who?”
“Viktor” 
You paused, only long enough for your brush to hover midair before you flicked your gaze in his direction. “Ah, yes. The famous business partner.”
Jayce’s grin didn’t falter, but there was something softer behind it now. “Yeah, something like that. But seriously, he’s a good guy. Brilliant, actually. You two would get along.”
You didn’t reply at first. Instead, you let the brush finish its arc, eyes back on your work, moving with the rhythm of a familiar task. “mhm” you murmured, distracted by the way the strokes of paint were bleeding together. “If he’s anything like you, how bad can it be?”
But Jayce, of course, wasn’t done. His voice took on that soft  tone he reserved for moments when he really wanted to get his point across. “I’m serious, okay? I want you two to meet. You both mean a lot to me, and I think you’ll really hit it off.”
You didn’t look up, but you felt a weight behind his words, pushing against you with silent pressure. “Yeah? I’m sure it’ll happen, then.”
Jayce’s eyes lit up, a flash of triumph in them, like he’d just won some small but important battle. “You’ll see. I’m telling you—when you meet him, you’ll click. I know it.”
You leaned back in your chair, releasing a slow exhale, the kind that said everything without saying anything at all. A nonchalant nod was all you offered, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of saying more. “Fine. Fine. I’ll meet him. But don’t make a whole thing out of it.”
Jayce chuckled, and there was an odd note of relief in the sound, like he’d just been granted some unspoken permission. “No big deal, I swear. But you’ll see. You two are more alike than you think.”
-
When you finally did meet Viktor, Jayce was practically vibrating, his energy as unsubtle as ever. It had been after one of your gallery openings, a night you’d half-dragged yourself through on fumes and politeness. Your heels had barely cleared the threshold of his apartment before the faintest twinge of suspicion began to creep in—something about the way he hovered, grinning like a man with a secret.
“You deserve a good meal after tonight,” Jayce had said, ushering you in with the kind of charm that usually preceded one of his schemes. “Thought you’d want to celebrate somewhere that doesn’t reek of overpriced wine and small talk.”
You rolled your eyes but let yourself be corralled, the promise of food outweighing the odd note in his voice. His large apartment, at least, was familiar territory: warm, cluttered with bits of tech and sentimental junk from years past, the faint scent of whatever candles he refused to admit he hoarded lingering in the air.
And then you heard it—the low murmur of another voice, sharp-edged and vaguely amused, drifting from the kitchen.
Jayce froze, his grin faltering for a split second before it reappeared, brighter than ever. “Oh, right,” he said, far too casually. “Viktor’s here.”
You blinked, narrowing your eyes at him. “You conveniently forgot to mention that part.”
“Come on,” he pushed, throwing an arm around your shoulders and steering you toward the source of the voice. “It’s no big deal. Just dinner. You’ll like him, I promise.”
And there he was, perched by the kitchen counter with a faintly perplexed look on his face. He was slimmer than you’d expected, pale and sharp-featured, with hair that looked like it hadn’t met a comb in days. His amber eyes flicked up to meet yours, narrowing slightly as if he were trying to solve a puzzle that had just been placed in front of him.
“Ah,” he said, his accent lilting and crisp, “so this is the infamous artist.”
You shot a glare at Jayce, who was already heading for the stove with the kind of forced cheer that made it painfully clear he’d orchestrated the whole thing. “You owe me for this,” you muttered under your breath, stepping further into the kitchen.
Viktor’s lips twitched, the barest hint of a smirk appearing. “And here I thought I was being ambushed. Seems we’re both victims of his enthusiasm.”
Jayce turned from the stove, wooden spoon in hand, his expression utterly unrepentant. “You’ll thank me later.”
The dinner was simple but undeniably good—Jayce’s doing, of course. The man couldn’t let anyone step into his apartment without insisting they be properly fed, and tonight was no exception. Roast chicken, buttery vegetables with rice, warm bread that filled the space with its yeasty aroma—it was the kind of meal that made you feel at home even when you weren’t.
Conversation flowed easily around the table, mostly carried by Jayce, but Viktor wasn’t exactly quiet, either. He had a way of chiming in at just the right moment, his dry humor landing squarely between Jayce’s more exuberant anecdotes and your own occasional contributions.
“You mean to tell me,” Viktor said at one point, leaning back slightly in his chair, “that Jayce still hasn’t learned to cook rice without burning it? After all these years?”
Jayce, halfway through explaining some disastrous culinary attempt from his youth, turned to glare at him. “Excuse me, this rice was cooked perfectly.”
“It was fine,” you agreed, though the memory of a slightly crunchy bite or two made your lips twitch in amusement.
Viktor’s amber eyes sparkled as he gestured broadly. “Oh, fine! A glowing review, truly. Don’t let it go to your head.”
Jayce groaned, but there was no real bite to it. “You’re insufferable.”
“And yet,” Viktor said, raising his glass in a mock toast, “here I am. Invited to dinner. Again.”
Jayce just rolled his eyes and went back to his story, leaving you to glance at Viktor with a small smile. He caught it, of course, and gave a little shrug as if to say, what can you do? For all his sharp humor, he was easy to talk to, his wit balanced by an underlying warmth that kept him from coming off as too cutting.
Which was why you were only mildly surprised when the spoon incident happened.
Dinner was winding down, Jayce had disappeared into the kitchen to fuss over coffee, leaving you and Viktor to handle the cleanup.
He moved with a surprising ease, balancing a stack of plates in one hand, his cane steady in the other. It was a casual sort of competence, as though he’d long since adapted to whatever limitations life had handed him. You hadn’t thought much of it, impressed by how naturally he maneuvered, until the soft clatter of a spoon hitting the floor broke the quiet rhythm of tidying.
“Ah,” Viktor said, glancing down at the rogue utensil with a faint frown as he set down the plate stack. “Of course.”
You paused mid-step, glancing between him and the spoon. “Need a hand?”
He tilted his head, his expression a little too innocent. “If it’s not too much trouble. You know, the leg and all...”
“Oh, for—” Jayce’s voice floated from the kitchen, half-annoyed but not quite committed to intervening.
You sighed, setting down the napkins you’d been folding. “Yeah, sure. I’ve got it.”
But just as you crouched down, Viktor shifted. A casual tap of his cane sent the spoon skittering across the floor, its metallic clink faintly echoing as it landed farther away.
You froze, staring at the spoon in disbelief, then turned your gaze to him slowly. “You’re kidding.”
Viktor’s lips twitched, the faintest glimmer of amusement flickering across his face. “What?”
“You just—”
“What?” he repeated, wider-eyed this time, his free hand gesturing vaguely toward his cane. “I’m handicapped.”
Jayce reappeared in the doorway, a coffee pot in hand and a look of pure exasperation on his face. “Viktor.”
“What?” Viktor said again, his voice laced with mock indignation. “I am!”
Jayce muttered something unintelligible as he poured coffee, his focus shifting between you and Viktor like he couldn’t decide which one of you deserved his scolding more. Meanwhile, you straightened, crossing your arms as a grin tugged at the corners of your mouth despite your best efforts.
“You’re lucky I’m feeling generous,” you said, stepping across the room to retrieve the spoon—again.
“Very generous,” Viktor agreed, his tone breezy. “Honestly, it’s quite inspiring. Jayce, you should take notes.”
Jayce groaned, setting the coffee pot down with a little too much force. “You’re both ridiculous.”
But you were already laughing, the sound bubbling up before you could stop it. As you returned the spoon to the table with a pointed look, Viktor gave you a small, almost triumphant smile. And maybe, you could see what Jayce meant when he’d said you’d get along.
-
The first time you realized you might feel more than just friendship for Viktor was when you noticed the way your sketches had started to change.
It had been weeks—maybe even a couple of months—since that dinner with Jayce, when you had awkwardly danced around each other, getting to know one another. The initial weirdness had faded into easy companionship, and you found yourself spending more time with Viktor than you expected. You hadn’t quite noticed it happening, but somewhere along the line, you’d become an unintentional trio. Jayce had been bursting with barely-contained glee at how easily the two of you seemed to get along, and it made your chest warm, knowing how much that mattered to him. It felt... right, this newfound ease between the three of you, a quiet sort of harmony that made you smile more than you expected.
But as the days passed, something shifted without you realizing it. You were at home one evening, flipping through your sketchbook, the soft pastel dust smudging the edges of the pages as your fingers moved. The forms you’d drawn were abstract models, capturing shapes and shadows in a fluid, organic way. It wasn’t anything new—nothing that stood out. But then, you stopped.
There, in the shadows of the page, you saw it.
The subtle arch of a jawline. The curve of lips that you knew too well. Even the moles, small and almost unremarkable, but there they were—on the page, right beneath your fingertips. You blinked and flipped to another sketch, only to see it again. A line here, a shadow there. It wasn’t him exactly, but it was.
To the untrained eye, maybe it wouldn’t have been obvious. Hell, maybe even to you on any other day, it might’ve gone unnoticed. But now, in the quiet of your studio, the shapes were almost unmistakable. The soft angle of his nose, the way his eyes looked when he was thinking too hard, the way his smile would pull up on one side when he was being particularly smug.
You frowned, setting the sketchbook down, your hands hovering above it as if it had betrayed you. Was this some kind of coincidence? Or was it something more, something you had been avoiding realizing? You’d never consciously set out to draw him, but there he was, tucked into the lines and curves of your art like an uninvited guest you hadn’t known you were entertaining.
It was ridiculous, you told yourself. Of course it was just... coincidence. But even as you tried to convince yourself, there was a small, unspoken truth sitting in your chest, heavy and undeniable, and the first time you realized Viktor might see you as more than just a friend was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it hit you all the same.
He mentioned a piece you’d shown him, his tone thoughtful. “You’ve been doing something different lately. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but there’s a change. It’s...” His gaze flickered to yours, then dropped back to the floor, but the brief flash in his eyes sent an unexpected flutter through your chest. “...more. More than what you usually show.”
The words themselves were harmless, even complimentary, but it was the way they hung between you that made something inside you stir—something you couldn’t name, not yet. You didn’t think much of it at first, but the way his eyes lingered just a second longer than necessary made your breath catch. The way the corners of his mouth lifted into a half-smile, not teasing, but... fond.
It was a simple thing. A fleeting moment. And yet, it lingered in your mind as you retreated to your apartment, your thoughts whirling with the possibility that Viktor—your friend, the one you had so casually laughed and bantered with for months—might be seeing you differently, too.
The shift was subtle, but it was there. And it unsettled you more than you cared to admit.
-
Everything came to a boiling point one night at your apartment. You’d ventured into town earlier that day, mostly for a change of scenery, and happened upon a small farmers market. You couldn’t resist grabbing a few bottles of strawberry wine, its sweetness and fruity undertones practically calling your name. Jayce had scoffed at it when you got back, claiming it was too sugary to have any real punch. “There’s no way I’ll even get drunk off this,” he’d muttered with a dismissive wave.
An hour later, he was sprawled out on your pullout, snoring softly with a stupid grin plastered across his face. You and Viktor stood nearby, both trying—and failing—to suppress your amusement at how quickly Jayce had succumbed to the wine’s effects. For all his size, Jayce was a surprising lightweight.
“I swear, every time,” you said, laughing quietly.
Viktor, leaning against the doorway, gave a soft chuckle. “Some people just don’t know when to stop.”
You rolled your eyes, glancing over at the slumbering man. “Guess we let him sleep it off.”
“Let him have his beauty rest,” Viktor teased, his voice light as he nodded toward the bottles. “We can always finish it ourselves.”
So you did, winding up on the roof with the cold night air around you. The worn-out couch up there had seen better days, but it was still enough to settle into and talk, a simple quiet comfort settling over you both. The soft glow of string lights and the silvered moonlight made the world feel like it was wrapped in a quiet hush despite the never ending sounds of the city. You both settled into the couch, the cushions sinking in the middle, which pushed you just a little closer to Viktor than you'd anticipated.
For a moment, neither of you said anything. The silence was easy, like you had spent years in it. You noticed how close you were sitting now—your thighs pressed together, and when you passed the bottle of wine, your fingers brushed his. A small spark of awareness ran through you each time, and you tried to ignore it, feeling your face warm despite the cool air.
The wine was sweet, fruity, and a little stronger than you expected, especially when you found yourself reaching for another sip and another, the soft buzz in your head gradually growing stronger.
By the time the bottle was halfway gone, you were both leaning more heavily into the couch, and you couldn’t help but giggle at how little wine was apparently needed to bring Jayce to the brink of passing out. You felt... lighter. Almost giddy, as if the laughter that came so easily was spilling out along with the alcohol. And Viktor, sitting just beside you, didn’t seem to be immune to it either. His face was flushed in the soft light, his lips curling into an easy smile.
“You know,” you said, leaning back and feeling the warmth of the couch soak into your bones, “I don’t do this enough. I’m so... wrapped up in work and life and... I just forget to relax.”
Viktor tilted his head, eyes slightly narrowed as he watched you. “Relaxing can be overrated,” he said with a smirk, the words a little slower than they’d been earlier. He took another drink from the bottle, his thumb brushing against the glass in an unconscious rhythm. When he passed it to you, your fingers brushed once again, and you lingered just a bit longer than necessary.
“Well, maybe for you,” you chuckled. “But, for me, it’s like... it's like a luxury, I guess. You know? I don’t remember the last time I just sat with someone and... and didn’t feel like I had to be somewhere or do something.”
“You eh–... don’t have to worry about that here,” Viktor said quietly, his voice light, with that usual teasing edge. But something was different in his tone, something that made the words feel heavier than they should have been. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but the air seemed to shift, the quiet between you stretching into something almost… charged.
You took another sip, your hand a little unsteady now. The whole situation felt absurd—awkward, even, yet strangely intimate in a way you hadn’t expected. Your gaze drifted toward his lips without thinking. It was brief, but enough to send a flutter through your stomach, and suddenly, your mind couldn’t focus on anything but that soft, confident curve of his mouth. Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was something else entirely, but you couldn’t seem to think straight anymore.
Viktor shifted closer again, and the couch beneath you groaned as it sank with the weight of it. The space between you closed, and you could feel the warmth of his body pressing against yours shoulder to shoulder, like the alcohol spreading through you, making your pulse quicken.
For a long moment, he didn’t say anything. His presence was a solid thing beside you. His eyes were locked on yours, studying, but still so calm. You could feel the punch of his gaze on you, like it was seeping through your skin, sending heat rushing to your cheeks. It wasn’t just the wine now—you could feel it all over, heat blooming beneath your skin, making you fidget slightly.
“Sometimes… you get caught up in what you’re doing, and you forget about everything else,” you mumbled, trying to ignore the way your nerves were tightening your chest. “I’ve been focused on my career and—god, I’ve probably been a little… I don’t know, closed off.” You laughed lightly, but it was nervous, unsure of where this was even coming from. But suddenly all your senses were barraged by him, his smell, his eyes.
“I just—I haven’t thought about it. Relationships, I mean. Not in a long time. I don’t know if I’m even ready for anything like that. Not now, not with everything I’m doing.” You trailed off, self-conscious, suddenly feeling like you were saying too much, rambling without stopping. The words seemed to just slip out of you, tumbling over each other.
You took another shaky breath, your heart thudding in your chest as you tried to make yourself stop, but you couldn’t. It was like you were helpless.
“And, I mean, if anybody were to kiss me…” You faltered, realizing too late just how much you were giving away. Your pulse quickened, your thoughts jumbled as your mouth just kept moving. “I would want that person to be you.”
The air between you thickened, the silence stretching long and heavy. Your heart pounded in your chest, a nervous rhythm that drowned out everything else. You waited for him to say something, to break the tension that was suffocating you. But there was nothing. Just the weight of his gaze on you, steady and searching.
When you finally dared to glance at him Viktor's expression was unreadable. One thick eyebrow was cocked slightly, and his mouth hung open just enough to suggest he was about to say something, but didn't. He was so close but somehow the distance between you felt infinite.
You opened your mouth to say something, to fill the silence, but before you could speak, his hand moved, his fingers brushing against your jaw in the gentlest touch. The sudden warmth of his palm made your breath catch, and before you could even fully process it, he was pulling you in. His lips met yours, soft at first, as though testing the waters, as if the moment itself was delicate. But that softness didn't last, between the buzz of alcohol, the closeness, the heat between you—it all blurred together. The kiss deepened, quickly turning urgent, hungry. His hand moved to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as the bottle slipped from your grasp, its clang against the concrete floor echoing in the quiet of the rooftop
You didn't care. You were too lost in the feeling of him against you, his lips moving against yours with a desperate kind of need. The kiss grew messier– clumsy, teeth scraping, tongues tangling. You could taste the faint sweetness of wine on him, the mix of flavors making everything feel dizzying overwhelming.
You found yourself gripping his shirt, pulling him closer, as if trying to merge your bodies together, desperate for the contact, for whatever it was that had been building between you two for so long. 
-
The next day was a harsh slap of hangover reality. Your head pounded, your mouth was dry, and every time you glanced at Viktor across the room, your stomach flipped in a way that had nothing to do with the booze.
Jayce, of course, was none the wiser. He chatted away over breakfast like nothing had changed, blissfully unaware of the shift that had unraveled everything you thought you’d had under control. And you? You were wholly committed to keeping it that way. It was a one-time thing, you told yourself. Just a fleeting, drunken thing—something you could both quietly bury and move on from.
At least, that was the plan.
Until it happened again. And then again.
Now it feels like a thread being pulled tighter and tighter, until you’re not sure if you’re going to unravel completely or snap under the weight.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. But here you are. And you don’t know how to stop.
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©lilsworks 2024
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yuujispinkhair · 9 months ago
Note
Sukuna’s the type of baby daddy that even if you break you never really broke up 😭 and if you got pregnant again there no chance in hell it could be anyone else’s kid besides his
The love you and Sukuna have is world-changing. Even after you break up, you are both still stuck on the other and unable to move on.
Pairing: Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: Hurt + comfort, fluff, mentions of smut Word Count: 1.5k Warnings: 18+, mentions of smut but nothing explicit. Reader and Sukuna break up, but they get back together at the end of the story. There is a happy end. They already have a daughter together, and another pregnancy is mentioned at the end. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact. Divider @/benkeibear
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It's not that you aren't trying to get over Sukuna. You really do. After a week of crying your eyes out, you decide to go out. It's not even that hard to get chatted up by some guy at a bar. But when his hand lands on your knee, you practically bolt. It feels so wrong, so dirty somehow. As if your body is still Sukuna's territory and no one else is worthy of touching you.
You try again a week later and the week after, too. But none of the men you meet spark your interest. Maybe this shouldn't come as a surprise. After all, only a few weeks ago, you had Sukuna. You had the best. There simply is no one who can compare to him. No one will ever make you feel the way Sukuna did.
You regret the breakup. It was stupid. Just small things that accumulated over several weeks, combined with a bad day at work and Sukuna being grumpy when you got home. You could have handled it differently.
But now, your bed always feels cold, and your heart doesn't seem to be in your chest anymore. Instead, there is a stone in your chest, heavy and painful, while your heart is in another part of this city, in the hands of the man who will always be the one for you, even if you will never get back together with him again.
+++
Sukuna asks to see his child, but you feel unable to face him, so you cowardly text him back, telling him to just pick your daughter up from kindergarten and spend the afternoon with her. When Sukuna brings her home in the evening, you are relieved that he seems to have gotten the hint. He doesn't come inside but waits at the front door as your daughter runs up the stairs to your apartment.
But you aren't strong enough not to hurry to the large window that faces the street, gazing outside to see Sukuna's familiar tall, broad figure slowly stroll down the street toward his car. His pink hair looks just like the cherry blossoms that fall down onto the road like pretty, pink snowflakes.
You know you will never be able to look at cherry trees again without feeling sadness wash over you.
Maybe you will try going on another date with some new guy, but deep down, you know that it will be in vain. It will always feel wrong. It will always feel like something is missing. Because none of those men are Sukuna. No one can be like him. There is only one Sukuna. Everyone else will always just be second best.
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Sukuna isn't even trying to get over you. Not anymore.
On the first night after your breakup, he was a mess and stormed off to some bar, desperate for a distraction. Anything that would keep him from getting overwhelmed by his feelings.
He had some drinks and flirted with a random girl. Even took her home, thinking that sex would help him feel better. But the moment she tried to unbutton his shirt, Sukuna grabbed her wrists and stopped her.
It felt wrong. He felt wrong. As if he was cheating on you. He told the girl to leave and watched with his arms crossed as she angrily slammed his door shut before Sukuna sank down on his couch and buried his face in his hands.
He knew right then and there that it was no use to go out and try to have hookups. It wouldn't work, and it sure as hell would only make him feel worse.
In the following weeks, Sukuna worked longer and spent more time at the gym, always trying to stay busy because as soon as he got home to his deadly silent apartment, he was drowning in thoughts about you. Drowning in all those happy memories the two of you had made over the years.
You were Sukuna's love, his heart, his everything. He hadn't known or understood love until he met you. So how is he supposed to ever get over you and move on? It's impossible. You are still his everything, and you will always be.
And so it's clear as day to Sukuna that he won't even try to move on. He knows he will always be yours, whether you are together or not. He was only able to give his heart away once. And even if you don't want it anymore, it still belongs to you.
+++
Sukuna spends two days every week with his daughter, happy to see his little girl but sad because he misses the time when all three of you did things together. And when she looks at him with your eyes and asks him, "Daddy, why don't you just come home again?" Sukuna feels his heart shatter into a million pieces.
Sukuna doesn't know what to tell her. He, too, can't understand why the two of you decided to break up. It was stupid. Nothing big caused it. Just small things that added up, and looking back they seem insignificant.
"I don't know, princess. Maybe Daddy should really go home and talk to Mommy."
He decides at that moment that he will get roses and come up to your door this evening.
+++
Sukuna's chest feels painfully tight when you open the door, and he sees your face again after all those weeks, hitting him with just how much he missed you.
He hands you the roses, a beautiful huge bouquet that cost a little fortune, his eyes gazing deeply into yours,
"Please take those flowers. They come without any obligation to take me back or even talk to me. But I want to give them to you because you are still the mother of my child. And... and you will always be my woman, just like I will always be your man, even if we aren't together."
He fears he sounds like a creep, that he overstepped a boundary, and that he made you uncomfortable. But he has had lots of time to think during the last few weeks, and he promised himself that he would be more open about his feelings if he ever gets a chance to talk to you again.
You stare at Sukuna for a moment that feels like hours to him. But then he sees the tears gathering in your eyes and sees the way your hand that's holding the flowers is trembling. You breathe a soft "Kuna..." and Sukuna knows. He knows that you are still his, just like he is still yours.
He pulls you into his arms a split second later, crushing the beautiful roses between your bodies as he hugs you tightly. And you melt so perfectly against him as if you are made for him. Your face is pressed against his broad chest, and you snuggle against him, every centimeter of you touching him. You cling to him so tightly that it's almost painful, but it's the first time since your breakup that Sukuna feels like he can breathe again.
"I am sorry. I am so sorry for everything."
You both speak the words at the same time, eyes locked, small relieved smiles playing around your mouths.
You tell Sukuna to stay for dinner, and he agrees. He takes over the kitchen again, his kitchen, and prepares a dinner that he knows his two girls always loved. He sits at your table again, jokes around with his little daughter, and basks in the way you look at him with your eyes full of happiness.
Sukuna doesn't just stay for dinner but stays the whole night.
He kisses you after the two of you bring your daughter to bed. Pushes you gently against the wall and claims your lips again, though deep down, he knows that those lips always belonged to him, even when you were apart.
He grins when you laugh when he picks you up and carries you princess-style to the bedroom. Your lips are on his again, kissing him as if you can't get enough of him, making it hard to walk, but Sukuna would find his way to your bedroom even blind.
He locks the door behind you, turning around only to find your hands on his chest, unbuttoning his shirt while your lips find his again in another passionate but tender kiss that makes Sukuna moan softly into your mouth.
He makes slow love to you in the bed you bought together all those years ago, showing you what it feels like to be loved and desired and cherished endlessly. And you wrap your arms and legs around him and meet each of his slow thrusts while you moan his name softly, and tears run down your cheeks, showing Sukuna the same love he is showing you.
Sukuna doesn't leave again after that night.
The two of you talk things out, and only a week later, Sukuna finally puts a ring on your finger and tells your little daughter that she needs to pick a pretty dress because she will be a flower girl at the wedding.
And only a month later, you place a positive pregnancy test on Sukuna's pillow, making both of you burst out laughing when you realize that you and Sukuna must have made another baby that first night when he came back and brought you the roses.
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Thank you so much for the ask! It made me feel so many things, so I had to get these feelings out and write this little story 😭 I hope you enjoyed it and that it made you emotional, too. How could there ever be anyone else after Sukuna? It's really not possible 😭
Thank you so much for reading! Comments and reblogs would be very sweet 💗
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ellieputellas · 2 months ago
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healing process | alexia putellas x reader
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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.
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⋆˙⟡♡ 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.
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⋆˙⟡♡ 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.
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⋆˙⟡♡ 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.
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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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faebled-stories · 2 months ago
Text
Behind The Wall
Kinkvember Day 8: Glory Hole
Le Sserafim Huh Yunjin
6.5k words
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Yunjin sank into the deep, velvet embrace of her couch, the cushions softening her exhausted frame as she let out a long, weary sigh. The echoes of the day's cacophony—cheering fans, thumping music, and sharp camera clicks—still pulsed faintly in her ears.
The life of an idol was dazzling but relentless; every hour meticulously scheduled, every move choreographed to perfection. The glitter of stage lights, interviews under glaring lamps, and the constant churn of photo shoots were exhilarating but exacted a toll. It was as if her very soul teetered on a tightrope, balancing the shimmering allure of fame against the shadow of burnout.
Through the vast floor-to-ceiling window, the city’s neon lights painted strokes of pink, blue, and gold across her apartment walls. Seoul’s night buzzed with energy; cars zipped by, people chattered and laughed, their figures flitting like restless fireflies. The symphony of life outside mocked her solitude, reminding her of the world that saw her only as an untouchable idol, never as Yunjin, the young woman who craved the freedom to simply be.
A heavy sigh escaped her as she swept her gaze over the cluttered coffee table, its surface strewn with fan mail written in colorful inks, glossy pamphlets of upcoming events, and stacks of formal letters from the agency. Her slender fingers traced absent patterns over the scattered papers, seeking something familiar in the chaos. But then, her touch stopped on an envelope that was different. It was plain, with none of the bright markings or logos she’d expected—no sender's name, no return address, just an unassuming square of paper.
The whisper of the paper crinkling as she opened it seemed magnified in the stillness. The note inside was concise, starkly so, and as her eyes scanned the words, a shiver danced along her spine:
"Looking to escape the ordinary? We offer complete anonymity. No names, no faces—just pure freedom. For those seeking a way out, come explore a world where nothing else matters."
A URL was printed below in small, unembellished text, as though any flourish might disrupt the message’s secrecy. Yunjin flipped the paper over, searching for more—an explanation, a clue to its sender—but found nothing. The edges of the note bit into her palm as her mind wrestled with intrigue and apprehension.
Her heart thudded as she glanced around her penthouse, its luxury and perfection suddenly feeling like a gilded cage. The idea of complete anonymity was as tantalizing as it was foreign. A place where her name, face, and reputation held no sway, where the burden of fame could be shed like a second skin—was such a thing even possible?
The glow of her phone lit her face as she typed the URL. The screen flickered to life, revealing a minimalist site with no distractions, no images, just a few lines of cryptic text. It spoke of an exclusive venue, a secret haven where identities dissolved, and people interacted without pasts or future judgments. A chill coursed down her arms as she read it again, each word stoking the embers of a rebellious thought that crackled within her.
She pressed her lips together, the decision forming like storm clouds in her mind. Her usual caution warred with a desperate hunger for escape. For once, she wouldn’t run it by her manager or think about potential repercussions. She would be just Yunjin, unknown and unseen.
Shaking fingers rummaged through her closet, pushing past glamorous gowns and performance outfits until she found a pair of dark jeans and a plain black hoodie. She slipped them on, the soft fabric foreign in its ordinariness. Her reflection in the mirror was almost startling—gone were the shimmering eyeshadow, sculpted features, and immaculate hair. Instead, a girl with wide, determined eyes looked back. She pulled her hair into a loose ponytail and donned a baseball cap, tucking wayward strands beneath it. Oversized sunglasses completed the disguise, shadowing her face despite the evening hour.
A small crossbody bag held her essentials, including the mysterious envelope and her phone, which she silenced before sliding it in. The muffled tick of the clock punctuated her hesitation, but the thrum in her chest urged her forward. The night was cool when she stepped out, the city’s breath washing over her as if daring her to blend into the current of people and lights.
Flagging down a cab felt like a small act of rebellion, its ordinary nature grounding her as the car hummed to life and pulled away from the curb. The rhythmic roll of the tires lulled her into contemplation. Streetlights cast fleeting halos on her window, the cityscape warping and softening in the glass’s reflection. She watched as neon signs, bustling restaurants, and late-night strollers gave way to quieter streets lined with shuttered shops and shadowed alleyways.
When the cab stopped in front of an unremarkable building, her pulse quickened. It stood under a flickering street lamp, modest and nondescript, its façade promising nothing yet holding everything she yearned for.
Yunjin paid the driver and stepped onto the cracked pavement, the city's hum receding to a low murmur. A sudden breeze lifted the edge of her hood as she pulled it lower, shielding herself from the scant light. The air tasted electric, anticipation sharp on her tongue.
This was it—a chance to disappear, to step into the unknown. The final glance over her shoulder was reflexive, a look at the life she was about to abandon, if only for a fleeting moment. With a deep breath, Yunjin pushed open the heavy door and let the shadows swallow her whole, a small smile curving her lips as the echo of her world fell away.
At the front desk, a woman with a soft, welcoming smile looked up, her glasses perched delicately on the tip of her nose, glinting under the warm glow of the overhead light. She exuded an air of quiet confidence, her poised demeanor a result of years of greeting visitors who approached with curiosity, nerves, or both.
“Good evening,” she said, her voice calm, warm, and practiced, like the embrace of a familiar song. The subtle scent of jasmine lingered in the air, a comforting contrast to the thundering beat of Yunjin’s heart. Sensing her demeanor the lady continued “First time?”
Yunjin gulped, the lump in her throat making her voice feel small and fragile. “Yes,” she replied, her tone soft and almost wavering, as if any louder would betray the torrent of emotions coursing through her.
The woman’s eyes, sharp yet kind, softened with a knowing glimmer as she slid a clipboard toward Yunjin across the polished, dark wood of the counter. The faint slide of paper against wood felt louder than it was, reverberating in Yunjin’s heightened state. “No worries, it’s all straightforward here. Just sign this waiver, and let me explain the options.” The receptionist’s tone was even, her words crafted to soothe. The clipboard itself seemed ordinary but held a gravity Yunjin wasn’t prepared for—a silent gateway between the ordinary and the unknown.
Yunjin's eyes dropped to the clipboard, the neatly printed text blurring slightly as her thoughts raced. The room felt warm, her breath shallow as she fought to calm herself. The woman’s voice interrupted her reverie, a steady anchor to the moment. “You can choose to give pleasure or receive it—whichever you’re more comfortable with.”
Yunjin’s pulse quickened, the choice startling in its simplicity yet weighted with implications. The muffled hum of distant music reached her ears, blending with the low thrum of blood rushing through her veins. She hadn’t anticipated the tension, the sudden clarity required for this decision.
“Um…” The hesitation hung between them, a breath caught in time. Yunjin’s gaze flickered from the clipboard to the woman’s reassuring eyes, and before she could rethink it, the words fell from her lips. “I’ll… give first.”
A smile curved the receptionist’s lips, gentle and knowing. She collected the clipboard once Yunjin had signed her name, fingers brushing lightly over the polished wood. “Great,” she said with a finality that both steadied and excited Yunjin. “Once you’re ready, head to the back, and follow the instructions inside. Take your time.” The words resonated like a promise, rich with unspoken possibilities.
Yunjin's feet felt both light and weighted as she moved through the hallway, each step echoing softly against the wooden floorboards. The corridor was lined with antique sconces that cast warm, flickering light, their glow reminiscent of gas lamps from another era. The scent of aged wood and varnish wrapped around her, steeped in a history of whispered secrets and uncharted desires.
The booth she entered was compact, almost intimate, its wooden frame dark with age and rich with a subtle scent of cedar. Faint scratches marred the surface, stories untold but felt through the marks of time. Yunjin adjusted herself on the worn seat, the old wood creaking beneath her slight movements. The small space was a capsule of warmth and nervous energy, making the moment feel both surreal and thrilling.
A deep breath filled her lungs as she closed her eyes, trying to slow the pounding of her heart. The booth's walls seemed to close in protectively, muting the world outside and intensifying her awareness of herself. The anticipation coiled within her, electric and alive, as she opened herself up to whatever came next, ready to step across the invisible threshold and into the unknown.
Suddenly, a slight movement near her face broke her concentration. Her gaze shifted and there it was—a small, round hole in the partition between booths, a portal to the unknown. Through it, the tip of a penis slowly emerged, its presence both startling and enticing. The anonymity of the situation only added to the allure, as Yunjin found herself face to face with the mystery of a man she could neither see nor touch, save for this intimate connection.
The member that presented itself through the partition was of a decent size, neither intimidating nor meek. It commanded Yunjin's attention, a silent invitation to a dance of lust and longing. With a deep breath, she reminded herself to take her time, to explore and savor the experience. She was an artist, and this was her canvas.
As she leaned in, the warmth of her lips met the head of the cock with a gentle, yet commanding touch. Her technique was impeccable, a result of years of honing her craft. A low groan from the other side of the partition confirmed her skill, and a surge of empowerment washed over her. She was in control, a maestro conducting an orchestra of desire.
With each slide of her mouth, her tongue traced the sensitive underside of his member, eliciting a symphony of responses from the stranger. His breathing grew heavier, punctuating the air with anticipation. The twitching of his member within her mouth was a silent testament to her mastery, a sign that she was navigating the dance of desire with expert precision.
Yunjin's own moans began to mingle with the stranger's labored breaths, a chorus that filled the small, private space. She couldn't deny the pleasure she found in this unconventional tryst. There was a unique thrill in the anonymity, a liberation in the act of pleasuring someone whose face she would never know. It was a connection that transcended the physical, rooted in the raw and real exchange of passion.
The pace of her actions increased, her head bobbing with growing urgency, the wet sounds of her endeavors a testament to the fervor of the moment. She could sense the stranger's tension mounting, his breathing becoming shallow and ragged as he approached the precipice of release.
As the tension escalated, Yunjin sensed the subtle changes in the man's breathing—a mix of shallow, quick breaths escalating into a desperate, primal rhythm. The air grew thick with anticipation, and her heart pounded in sync with his. The cock in her mouth, already swollen with arousal, seemed to pulse with an electric charge, signaling the inevitable. His body tensed, muscles rigid as his climax built to an unstoppable crescendo. With just a whisper of warning, the stranger's control slipped away. A guttural, low growl vibrated through his chest, primal and raw, echoing in the confined space around them. Then, the release. It came like a warm, forceful flood, his hot, salty essence filling Yunjin's mouth with a sudden rush. She felt the throbbing intensify, each pulse delivering more of his essence, hot and thick against her tongue. Yunjin, caught in the wave of his ecstasy, swallowed eagerly, the flavors mixing in her mouth—salty, slightly bitter, yet uniquely intimate. She closed her eyes, focusing on the sensation, her own arousal amplifying as she savored the taste, the heat, the sheer intimacy of the act. As he reached his peak, she could feel the tension in his body slowly ebbing away, the throbbing now a slower, gentler rhythm. The cock in her mouth began to soften, no longer the rigid rod of before, but yielding, becoming more pliable. Yunjin held him there, her lips and tongue still caressing, prolonging the connection. The afterglow of his climax lingered on her taste buds as she gently released him with a soft wet pop, her lips tracing a soft path along the now relaxed shaft, leaving a trail of warmth. The moment, intense and fleeting, left them both in a haze of satisfaction, their breaths mingling in the quiet aftermath.
A murmured thanks floated through the hole, a small acknowledgment of the intense connection they had shared, however fleeting. Yunjin took a moment to catch her breath, her heart still racing from the adrenaline of the encounter.
Despite the fleeting nature of their interaction, Yunjin felt a profound bond with the faceless man on the other side of the wall. It was a bond forged by mutual pleasure and vulnerability, a memory that would linger long after the carnival lights had dimmed.
Just as she began to compose herself, another surprise awaited her. From a different opening in the partition, a second shaft appeared—this one significantly larger and more imposing. Yunjin's breath hitched in her throat as she eyed the newcomer with a mix of apprehension and curiosity. The first encounter had been a warm-up, but this? This was a challenge.
She hesitated, pondering if she could accommodate such a size, but the thrill of the challenge won out. With a cautious but determined glance, she edged closer to the second hole. Yunjin was ready to take the ride.
As she steeled herself, Yunjin's gaze was locked on the formidable appendage that stood before her. It was a symbol of virility and power, and she was determined to conquer it. With a deep breath, she leaned forward, her heart pounding like a drumline in her chest. The moment of contact was electric; her soft lips met the massive head of the cock, and a surge of warmth and intensity coursed through her. She closed her eyes, surrendering to the sensation as she focused all her strength and concentration on the task ahead.
The journey had begun, and Yunjin was committed to seeing it through. She slid her lips down the lengthy shaft, each inch a testament to her determination. The cock throbbed and pulsed in her mouth, a living embodiment of the challenge she had accepted. It was a tight fit, pushing the limits of her oral cavity, and she could feel her throat constricting as she valiantly attempted to accommodate more of the imposing member.
Gagging and sputtering were inevitable, but Yunjin's will was made of sterner stuff. She refused to yield, pushing herself further, taking in more and more until she felt the cock hit the back of her throat. The sensation was overwhelming, but she welcomed it, pausing only to adjust before resuming her rhythmic motion. Her head bobbed back and forth, the cock sliding in and out of her mouth with practiced ease, a dance of passion and perseverance.
The thrill of the challenge was intoxicating. Yunjin's pulse raced with excitement as she deepthroats the massive cock, each thrust a declaration of her own capabilities. She was acutely aware of the wet patch growing on her panties, a visible sign of her arousal, as she moaned softly, the sound muffled by the object of her conquest. She was lost in the moment, her world narrowed to the feeling of being completely filled, completely consumed by the task at hand.
Her determination was not in vain. The man's body tensed, his breaths became labored gasps, and Yunjin knew she had driven him to the brink. The moment of truth arrived as his dick twitched and pulsed in her mouth, releasing a torrent of cum. She swallowed quickly, striving to keep up with the force of his ejaculation, but the sheer volume was overwhelming. Cum splashed against the back of her throat, overflowed, and covered her chin, dripping down her chest in a testament to her efforts.
Yunjin, a woman of remarkable poise and sensuality, found herself in a scenario that would have left many reeling. She had just concluded an intense session with two well-endowed partners, each man bringing his own brand of fervor and demanding her full attention and physicality. The encounter had been a marathon of pleasure and exertion, pushing Yunjin to the brink of her sexual prowess. Yet, as the second man withdrew, spent and satisfied, Yunjin was faced with an unanticipated third act.
Through the other hole stood another man, his desire evident and his anticipation palpable. His penis, while not as imposing as the ones that had preceded it, still presented a challenge. Yunjin, ever the consummate lover, was not one to back down from a challenge. She understood that satisfaction comes in many sizes and that her journey was far from over.
With a deep breath to center herself, Yunjin leaned in, her eyes locked onto his member as she took the whole cock easily into her mouth. The warmth of his flesh against her lips was a familiar sensation, yet it brought with it a new set of expectations. She was determined to lavish upon this man the same meticulous attention that she had given to the others, to bring him to the heights of pleasure despite the lingering sensation of fullness that still resonated within her from her previous encounters.
As she worked her magic, the man's response was immediate and visceral. He quickly reached his climax, and Yunjin braced herself for what was to come. To her astonishment, his orgasm was voluminous, exceeding even the generous offerings of the two men before him, combined. The warm, thick salty liquid hit the back of her throat with a force that caused her gag reflex to activate, the excess spilling out of her mouth and trickling down her chin.
The sensation was overwhelming, and Yunjin made a swift decision. She couldn’t take any more inside of her; she had reached her limit. Instead, she guided the man to finish all over her face. With her eyes closed and her head tilted back, she surrendered to the sensory overload. The cum splattered in waves across her face, marking her porcelain skin and staining her crimson hair with ropes of his essence. It dripped down her neck, leaving trails that soaked into her LE SSERAFIM top, a badge of honor from her latest conquest..
The absurdity of the situation was not lost on Yunjin. Here she was, a woman who had always prided herself on her control and composure, covered in the evidence of her sexual escapades. Yet, far from feeling debased, she felt empowered. The sensation was strange, yet not unpleasant, and in the midst of the chaos, she found a moment of quiet appreciation for the extremes to which her body and mind could be pushed.
As the man caught his breath and pulled away, Yunjin opened her eyes. A smile played across her lips, a silent acknowledgment of the journey she had just completed. She had not only endured but had triumphed, satisfying yet another partner with grace and determination. The experience had been intense, physically challenging, and emotionally exhausting, but it had also been exhilarating.
Yunjin stood, her body glistening with the remnants of her encounters, and made her way to the mirror. She gazed at her reflection, at the cum-covered visage that stared back at her, and she felt a surge of pride. She had pushed herself beyond her limits, and had proven to herself that she was capable of anything. In that moment, Yunjin embraced her strength, her resilience, and the sheer power of her sexuality.
She took a moment to catch her breath. She felt a weight lifted off her shoulders, and a sense of calm washed over her. But she was not ready to stop just yet. Quickly using the provided wipes, she cleaned herself slightly before she gathered up her remaining energy and boldly decided to continue.
Yunjin's heart danced to the staccato rhythm of her racing pulse as she navigated the dimly lit corridors of the building, her every step echoing the potent cocktail of excitement and trepidation coursing through her veins. She arrived at her destination, a secluded alcove whispered about in the hushed tones of the initiated, where the boundaries of the self are willingly blurred.
With a deep breath to steady her nerves, Yunjin began the ritual of undressing, each piece of clothing falling away to reveal the canvas of her unadorned skin. The cool air of the room kissed her bare flesh, sending a shiver down her spine, a tangible reminder of her exposed state. It was in this moment of nakedness, both literal and metaphorical, that Yunjin felt truly alive, her senses heightened to the symphony of whispers, rustling fabric, and the faint scent of desire that permeated the air.
Carefully, she positioned herself, ensuring comfort and security, but also the deliberate display of her most intimate self. The hole before her served as a portal to a world of anonymous connections, her bare pussy an offering to the unknown. As she closed her eyes, Yunjin surrendered to the vulnerability of her situation, a willing participant in the dance of the flesh.
The sounds from the adjacent room grew in intensity, a cacophony of deep moans and heavy breathing that spoke of the primal acts unfolding mere inches away. It was not long before the first of her anonymous suitors approached, his fingers tracing the contours of her exposed lower body with a reverence that belied the raw encounter to come.
He wastes no time in claiming what he sought, gripping Yunjin's hips with an urgency that communicated his need. She felt the heat of his body, the insistent press of his cock against her, seeking entry into the slick warmth of her tight cunt. As he entered her, Yunjin braced herself against the intrusion, the sensation of being filled overwhelming her senses.
The man's thrusts were fast and deep, driven by the intoxicating tightness that enveloped him. Yunjin's moans melded with the symphony of sounds that filled the room, her body responding to the relentless rhythm. Having spent the earlier part of the night pleasuring a succession of faceless men, now it was her turn to bask in the waves of pleasure that threatened to engulf her.
Yunjin's body trembled uncontrollably as wave after wave of intense pleasure coursed through her veins. She could feel every inch of the man behind the wall. His thrusts were relentless, almost brutal in their intensity, but she couldn't deny the way her body responded to his touch.
She could hear the man's grunts and groans growing louder with each thrust, his hips slamming into her with a primal urgency that made her heart race. It was clear that he was chasing his own high, focused solely on the intense sensations coursing through his body.
Yunjin tried to match his rhythm, meeting each thrust with one of her own, but she was quickly overwhelmed by the intensity of the pleasure coursing through her. She could feel her orgasm building deep within her, the tension coiling in her belly as she gasped for breath.
Yunjin, in that moment, was just another warm, wet body used solely for pleasure. An extension of the overwhelming stimulation that threatened to swallow her whole. The scent of sex was thick in the air of the crowded room, mixing with the heady aroma of cologne and the musk of aroused bodies.
All around them, others writhed and cried out in ecstasy. Moans and screams filled the air, punctuated by the wet slap of flesh on flesh. It was a debauched scene straight out of Yunjin's wildest fantasies. And yet, even as her body climbed higher and higher towards the peak, her mind felt strangely detached. It was as if she was watching the whole thing unfold from outside herself.
The man's thrusts grew more erratic, his rhythm faltering as he neared his own end. Yunjin could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter in her core, her nails digging into the supple leather beneath her as she teetered on the very edge of oblivion.
With a final, powerful thrust, Yunjin's body tensed as she felt her world shatter into a thousand pieces. Her orgasm ripped through her like a tidal wave, a rush of intense pleasure coursing through her veins and leaving her breathless. She threw her head back and cried out, the sound echoing through the room as she reveled in the indescribable sensation.
The man, still buried deep inside of her, let out a low groan as he felt her climax. He could feel her muscles contracting around him, pulling him deeper as she rode out the waves of pleasure. With a few more thrusts, he followed suit, his cock pulsing as he emptied himself into her. The warmth of his seed filled her to the brim, a delicious sensation that only served to prolong her own orgasm.
"Ohhh yes!" Yunjin cried out, her voice filled with pure ecstasy. The intensity of the moment was etched into her memory, a moment of pure bliss that she would never forget. 
As the first man finished his climax, he pulled out, leaving Yunjin's hungry hole exposed and glistening with a mixture of sweat and the evidence of his pleasure. But there was no time for respite in this den of hedonism. No sooner had he withdrawn than another figure loomed, his member rigid and ready. Without hesitation, he plunged into her cum-slicked opening, claiming her for his own.
He started pumping with an urgency that matched the rhythm of her own racing heart. The wet sounds of their union resonated throughout the room, a testament to the slick, fervent fucking that was underway. Yunjin's body responded instinctively, her hips rocking back to meet his every thrust, her fingers clawing at the edges of the bench that supported her.
"Yes, yes, yes!" she panted, her voice a symphony of lust and longing. She was a vision of abandon, her body undulating with each powerful drive of his cock. Her eyes were closed, her head thrown back in ecstasy, as she rode the wave of another impending climax.
The man showed no signs of slowing down, his own desires stoking the fire within Yunjin's core. She could feel the essence of her previous partner being churned inside her, the concoction adding to the intensity of the experience. "Mmmm it's so messy!" Yunjin gasped, the sensation of fluids squelching with each thrust only heightening her arousal.
He used the slickness to his advantage, fucking her with wild abandon, his hips a blur as he hammered in and out of her willing body. The room was filled with the sounds of their coupling—the slap of skin, the wet suction of her sex, and the growing crescendo of Yunjin's moans.
"Oh fuck, oh fuck, I'm gonna cum!" Yunjin wailed, her voice cracking with the intensity of her impending orgasm. Her pussy clenched around him, the sensitive walls of her sex gripping him tightly as she reached the precipice of pleasure. Her whole body shook, racked by the force of her climax, a climax that seemed to tear through her like a storm surge, leaving her spent and trembling in its wake.
As her orgasm subsided, the man continued to thrust, drawing out every last shiver of pleasure from Yunjin's satiated form. Finally, with a guttural growl, he too found his release, adding to the cum-slicked mess that Yunjin had become.
Exhausted but thoroughly sated, Yunjin collapsed onto the bench, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. She was a writhing, moaning mess, her body marked by the intensity of her encounters. Yet, even as she lay there, the knowledge that this was but a moment in her endless pursuit of pleasure brought a knowing smile to her lips.
In the dimly lit confines of an intimate chamber, Yunjin found herself amidst a symphony of desire, a realm where pleasure was the only currency. After a series of passionate trysts, she braced herself for the final act of her evening, a performance that promised to be as memorable as it was intense.
As her body, still quivering from the reverberations of her last climax, began to settle, Yunjin sensed the approach of another. She was acutely aware that this would be her final partner for the night, and there was something decidedly different about him. The anticipation of his touch rekindled the warmth and pulsating sensitivity of her pussy, remnants of her recent orgasmic journey.
The man's presence was commanding yet tender as he teased her entrance, his warmth radiating against her sensitive flesh. She recognized him by his formidable size—the same man she had pleasured orally earlier. His endowment, both exciting and intimidating, had left a lasting impression, and the recognition only stoked the fires of her arousal.
As he began to enter her, Yunjin braced herself for the sensation of being filled beyond what she had ever known. His size was not just impressive; it bordered on the edge of her comfort zone, yet she found herself craving more. With each deliberate inch that slid inside, her body stretched to accommodate his girth, yielding to his impressive member with a mix of trepidation and eagerness.
The intensity of fullness was almost too much to bear, but it was swiftly replaced by waves of pleasure that accompanied each of his thrusts. Her body was being pushed to its limits, but in the most exhilarating way imaginable. She could feel every ridge, every vein of his shaft, creating a friction that sent shivers of delight coursing through her.
Instinct took over, and Yunjin began to match his rhythm, eager to feel him reach the deepest parts of her. The man responded in kind, increasing the force of his thrusts, making her gasp with each powerful drive. The room echoed with the raw, primal sound of their bodies uniting, a testament to the pleasure they were creating together.
Yunjin's heart raced, each beat a drumbeat echoing in her ears as she scaled the heights of her pleasure. Her legs trembled with the exertion, her muscles coiling tighter with each passing second. The air around them seemed to crackle with electricity, a palpable tension that begged for release.
"I'm so close," she gasped, her voice barely more than a whisper, laced with the raw edge of desperation.
He responded with a powerful surge, his body moving with an intensity that matched her own fervor. Their rhythm was frenzied, a dance of two souls seeking unity in the most primal way.
"Please," she begged, her pride forgotten in the face of the overwhelming need that consumed her.
His answer was a focused, deliberate motion, a targeted strike against her inner walls that made stars explode behind her closed eyelids. Yunjin's world shattered as she reached the pinnacle of her climax. Her voice broke the stillness, a cry of pure, unadulterated bliss that filled the room.
"FUCK… you’re so big!" she exclaimed, her body arching into his, every nerve ending alight with pleasure.
Her inner muscles pulsed around him, a rhythmic clenching that milked his own release. He threw his head back, a look of pure ecstasy on his face as he let out a deep, resonant groan. Yunjin felt the heat of his climax as he spilled into her, the sensation drawing out her own pleasure until she was utterly spent.
For a moment, they existed in a perfect state of satiation, their bodies still intimately connected. Yunjin's breaths slowly evened out, her heartbeat gradually returning to normal. She lay there, boneless and content, a soft smile playing on her lips as the aftershocks of their union rippled through her.
As the intensity of the moment subsided, Yunjin savored the feeling of completeness. The warmth of his release spread through her, a sensation that was both comforting and deeply satisfying. Her body, now spent and limp, was a testament to the pleasure he had wrought.
In the afterglow of their erotic encounter, she lay back on the leather that clung to her skin, her body a canvas of pleasure and fatigue. Her breaths came in slow, deep waves, each one a testament to the intensity of the experience they had just shared. She was in a state of blissful exhaustion, every muscle in her body seemingly liquefied in the wake of her climax.
The mystery stud, still poised behind the wall, looked at her quivering folds, his gaze held a mixture of pride and satisfaction. Then, with a mischievous glint in his eye he leaned in for one final, electrifying farewell.
His hand came down on her sex with a sure, resounding slap that echoed through the room, its sharpness jolting her senses. The stinging sensation arched her back, drawing a surprised moan from her lips as the sound lingered—a provocative reminder of their raw, unrestrained passion.
Before she could fully process the shock, his mouth descended with a searing kiss to her throbbing clit, warm and intent. The heat enveloped her, sending a fresh wave of pleasure rippling through her. His tongue moved deftly, coaxing her sensitive flesh to life with skilled flicks and gentle pulls, each movement reigniting her body’s desire.
A gasp escaped her as she shivered, goosebumps rising over her skin. Still sensitive from her previous release, she felt her body surge with renewed intensity. Her every nerve responded to him, the initial sting of his touch melting into the tender warmth of his kiss, the sensations mingling in a dizzying contrast that left her breathless. She was caught in the duality of it—the lingering sting meeting the sweetness of his lips—a perfect balance between the need to retreat from the intensity and the desire to lose herself in it entirely.
With a final, lingering kiss, he pulled back, leaving her body trembling and her chest rising with deep, satiated breaths. Covered in a light sheen of sweat, she had long since lost count of her climaxes, each one more powerful than the last. As she lay there, immersed in the warmth of their connection, she knew that this night would remain etched in her memory—a moment where passion, intensity, and an unspoken bond came together in something that transcended the physical.
She rose slowly from the plush cushions her legs trembling slightly from the exertions of the evening. Standing in the dimly lit room that had been her sanctuary, she caught her reflection in the nearby mirror. Her gaze drifted over her own form—a canvas marked by the unmistakable signs of release. Her skin was damp, glistening with the mingled residue of sweat and pleasure, each trace a testament to the intensity of the night.
She felt wonderfully full, her body carrying the subtle reminders of her encounters, tokens of the night that would stay with her as she stepped back into the world.
Yunjin moved to the bathroom, her steps careful, almost reverent. Warm water streamed over her, washing away the physical remnants of her indulgence, swirling down the drain in a quiet cleanse. Yet even as the evidence vanished, she knew that the essence of the night would remain—a secret, a sense of renewal that she would carry back into her public persona.
Dressed once again in her street clothes—a chic outfit that belied the wildness of her evening—Yunjin gathered her belongings: a sleek purse, comfy sneakers, and a renewed sense of self. She paused at the mirror, captivated by her own reflection. The woman staring back was radiant, her eyes alight with a new fire, a private victory that fame alone could never quite evoke. It was a glow that belonged to her alone.
At the front desk, Yunjin was met with the same quiet discretion as when she’d first arrived. The hostess, ever the silent guardian of this hidden world, handed her a sleek business card—a subtle invitation to return. Yunjin responded with a slight smile, a silent promise to herself that she would indeed revisit this sanctuary of indulgence.
Just as she turned to leave, a familiar voice rang out behind her.
“Hi, Ms. Jeon. Welcome back!”
Yunjin froze, her heart skipping as she spun around to see none other than her friend, Jeon Somi, standing just a few feet away. Somi’s eyes sparkled with curiosity, and she cocked her head, taking in Yunjin’s slightly disheveled appearance. Blood rushed to Yunjin’s cheeks, embarrassment rising fast—of all people, she hadn’t expected to see Somi here.
“S-Somi?” she stammered, caught off guard. “What… what are you doing here?”
Somi chuckled, enjoying Yunjin’s flustered reaction. She took a step closer, her gaze warm but curious. “I didn’t know you knew about this place.”
Yunjin shifted uncomfortably, glancing away. “Yeah, well…” She trailed off, unable to find the words, but Somi simply grinned and leaned in slightly, her expression softening.
Without a word, Somi’s eyes glinted with mischief as she inhaled, catching the faint scent lingering on Yunjin’s clothes—a subtle hint of musk and release. She pulled back, a knowing smile playing on her lips.
“I’m here for the same reason as you, I presume?” Somi teased, raising an eyebrow.
Yunjin’s face grew hotter, mortified that Somi could sense exactly what she’d been up to. She bit her lip, laughing nervously. “I… guess so,” she mumbled, managing a sheepish grin. “Didn’t think I’d… run into anyone I know here.”
Somi chuckled warmly, patting Yunjin’s shoulder with a playful smile. “Hey, we all need a place like this sometimes, right? No judgment.” She glanced back toward the hallways, her voice softening. “Anyway, I had a long day. I’ll see you around.”
Before Yunjin could respond, Somi turned and headed toward the dimly lit corridors, her footsteps fading into the quiet shadows of the hidden world they both shared. Yunjin watched her friend disappear, feeling a strange mix of relief, embarrassment, and an unexpected sense of camaraderie.
Left standing by the entrance, Yunjin took a steadying breath, her heartbeat gradually slowing. Tomorrow, she would return to her carefully crafted public life. But tonight, she carried the thrill of her private indulgence—and the quiet comfort of knowing she wasn’t alone in seeking a place to shed her public self, if only for a moment.
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ghelgheli · 10 months ago
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In contrast with professional drag queens, who were only playing at being women onstage, [Esther] Newton learned that the very bottom of the gay social hierarchy was the province of street queens. In almost total contrast to professional queens, street queens were "the underclass of the gay world." Although they embraced effeminacy, too, they did so in the wrong place and for the wrong reason: in public and outside of professional work. As a result, Newton explained, the street queens "are never off stage. Their way of life is collective, illegal, and immediate." Because they didn't get paid to be feminine and were locked out of even the most menial of nightlife jobs, Newton observed that their lives were perceived to revolve around "confrontation, prostitution, and drug 'highs'." Even in a gay underworld where everyone was marked as deviant, it was the sincere street queens who tried to live as women who were punished most for what was celebrated-and paid-as an act onstage. When stage queens lost their jobs, they were often socially excluded like trans women. Newton explained that when she returned to Kansas City one night during her fieldwork, she learned that two poor queens she had met had recently lost their jobs as impersonators. Since then, they had become "indistinguishable from street fairies," growing out their hair long and wearing makeup in public-even "passing" as girls in certain situations," in addition to earning a reputation for taking pills. They were now treated harshly by everyone in the local scene. Most people wouldn't even speak to them in public. Professional drag queens who didn't live as women still had to avoid being seen as too "transy" in their style and demeanor. One professional queen that Newton interviewed explained why: it was dangerous to be transy because it reinforced the stigma of effeminacy without the safety of being onstage. "I think what you do in your bed is your business," he told Newton, echoing a middle-class understanding of gay privacy, "[but] what you do on the street is everybody's business."
The first street queen who appears in Mother Camp is named Lola, a young Black trans girl who is "becoming a woman,' as they say'." Newton met Lola at her dingy Kansas City apartment, where she lived with Tiger, a young gay man, and Godiva, a somewhat more respectable queen. What made Godiva more respectable than Lola wasn't just a lack of hormonal transition. It was that Godiva could work as a female impersonator because she wasn't trying to sincerely live as a woman. Lola, on the other hand, was permanently out of work because being Black and trans made her unhireable, including in female impersonation. When Newton entered their apartment, which had virtually no furniture, she found Lola lying on "a rumpled-up mattress on the floor" and entertaining three "very rough-looking young men." These kinds of apartments, wrote Newton, "are not 'homes.' They are places to come in off the street." The extremely poor trans women who lived as street queens, like Lola, "literally live outside the law," Newton explained. Violence and assault were their everyday experiences, drugs were omnipresent, and sex work was about the only work they could do. Even if they didn't have "homes," street queens "do live in the police system."
As a result of being policed and ostracized by their own gay peers, Newton felt that street queens were "dedicated to "staying out of it" as a way of life. "From their perspective, all of respectable society seems square, distant, and hypocritical. From their 'place' at the very bottom of the moral and status structure, they are in a strategic position to experience the numerous discrepancies between the ideals of American culture and the realities." Yet, however withdrawn or strung out they were perceived to be, the street queens were hardly afraid to act. On the contrary, they were regarded by many as the bravest and most combative in the gay world. In the summer of 1966, street queens in San Francisco fought back at Compton's Cafeteria, an all-night venue popular with sex workers and other poor gay people. After management had called the police on a table that was hanging out for hours ordering nothing but coffee, an officer grabbed the arm of one street queen. As the historian Susan Stryker recounts, that queen threw her coffee in the police officer's face, "and a melee erupted." As the queens led the patrons in throwing everything on their tables at the cops-who called for backup-a full-blown riot erupted onto the street. The queens beat the police with their purses "and kicked them with their high-heeled shoes." A similar incident was documented in 1959, when drag queens fought back against the police at Cooper's Donuts in Los Angeles by throwing donuts-and punches. How many more, unrecorded, times street queens fought back is anyone's guess. The most famous event came in 1969, when street queens led the Stonewall rebellion in New York City. Newton shares in Mother Camp that she wasn't surprised to learn it was the street queens who carried Stonewall. "Street fairies," she wrote, "have nothing to lose."
Jules Gill-Peterson, A Short History of Trans Misogyny
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burningembers91 · 5 days ago
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Sleeping With the Enemy - Hwang Jun-Ho x Fem!Reader (NSFW)
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Synopsis: tasked with taking down the most ruthless gangster in Seoul, Hwang Jun-Ho didn’t know he’d fall for his target’s wife in the process.
Please note that this storyline will deal with situations depicting domestic violence.
A/N: Did I come up with this idea at 1am when I couldn’t sleep? Yes. Did I also get up at 5am to write it as it was etched into my brain? Yes. Am I very tired? Also, yes. But this storyline is gonna be juicy as heck.
It was you who called the police. You, who in your wedding vows had sworn to love and protect you husband, just has he had sworn the same. He hadn’t bothered to keep his promise though, so why should you? The man you married was a ruthless tyrant, taking whatever he wanted with little regard for the devastation his actions caused. The police had been after him for years, desperate to catch the ruthless gangster who tormented the good people of Seoul. You’d be so young when you married him, swept up in the glitz and glamour of the high life he showed you. He’d promised you the world; you just hadn’t realised it would come at a cost.
You weren’t sure you’d ever loved your husband, and you knew he’d never loved you. You were an accessory on his arm, something necessary to bring along to meetings and parties, adorning you in the highest quality clothes and shoes for his colleagues and competitors to admire. He’d started hitting you shortly after your wedding, started showing his real colours when he was confident you couldn’t escape. You’d spent years cowering in his shadow, meekly accepting the designer gifts he bestowed upon you as an apology for treating you like dirt. You weren’t living anymore; you were simply existing.
Hwang Jun-Ho was assigned to your case, tasked with keeping the beautiful wife of the city’s most dangerous gangster safe. He’d been warned that you couldn’t be trusted; that this whole thing could be nothing more than a ploy to send the police off chasing their tails. But Jun-Ho knew from the moment he met you that you weren’t doing your husband’s bidding. You were stunning, dressed in Dior, Prada and dripping in Cartier diamonds. But those high end brands couldn’t mask the fear in your eyes. Just like the makeup couldn’t mask the bruises on your face. At first, he’d been sure this case would be the one he needed to skyrocket him to greater things. But one meeting with you and the boost this would give to his career was no longer his priority; you were. He’d been in this job for long enough that not much fazed him, but your stories had kept him up at night. Tales of your husband’s beatings, his drug deals, his human trafficking, Jun-Ho wondered how you’d endured it all. How you’d kept your wits and sanity while married to the devil himself.
He tried to keep things professional, tried to keep a distance, but you pulled him in like a moth to a flame. You were so fragile and yet so strong, so beautiful, so meek yet so brimming with confidence that it floored him every time. You’d meet in secret, when your husband was out of town on business, slowly giving Jun-Ho the evidence he needed to bring down the man you’d pledged your life to.
It was after your fourth meeting that he fucked you in the back of his car, your moans like the sweetest music to his ears as his took you on the leather seats. From that moment on, Jun-Ho knew there was no going back; he was hooked on you. From that moment on, you would meet each week, exchange information and then make love in his apartment. You smelled like Chanel No.5, and it permeated his bedsheets, keeping him company on the long nights without you. Your lipstick left stains on his skin, marking its way down his chest and thighs. The sound of your breathy moans were permanently etched on his brain, going round and round his head like the most beautiful broken record.
He wasn’t sure when infatuation turned into love. All he knew is that he would do anything for you. He would die for you if it would keep you safe. You were both under no illusion that you were playing a risky game, one that you were almost certain wouldn’t end well.
But for the first time in your life, you could confidently say you knew what love was. Jun-Ho showed you affection and care you’d only ever dreamt of. He made you laugh, made you feel safe, and when his lips explored your body, he made your toes curls in the most exquisite way imaginable.
Yes, you knew this wouldn’t end well. Your husband was not a man who forgave and forgot. But Jun-Ho was determined to keep you safe. He would find a way to break you free of the chains the devil had ensnared you in. He’d find a way to protect you from the man who kept you in constant fear. He didn’t know how this would end, but he knew that he would risk it all for you.
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