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wosofutbolfan · 4 months ago

Text

When Somebody Loved Me (Everything Was Beautiful)

Alexia Putellas x Reader

A story of a lifetime spent growing together. To what end?

Songfic

WC: 17k. Check TW inside.

TW: Bullying based on disability. Death of a parent. Angst. Grief.

Hi Guys.

This has sat in my drafts for months and inside my head for even longer. There is no part 2 planned. This is angsty with fluffy moments. Be warned.

I think we can all agree the most heart wrenching media moment of all time is Toy Story 2 and the below song.

If you don't agree. Move along this is not for you.

Reader calls Alexia, Alex throughout this fic. That's based on this video. Cause I have never heard someone refer to that and I thought it was cute. Alexia refers to R as 'Conejito' as a literal translation of bunny - I have since realised there's a more vulgar translation of this which I'm ignoring. Ha.

Spoiler Alert - This story deals with the death of a parent. Which I went back and forth on writing. Something about it still feels ick to me because these are real people. I may delete. Everything within is based on my own experience of parental loss. And it comes from no place of malace or weirdness.

This also deals with a severe speech impediment - which again, I do not suffer from myself but have experience with and hope I have done the struggle justice for anyone who may suffer.

My spanish is google translate because I am an ignorant English speaker. Apologies.

When somebody loved me Everything was beautiful Every hour we spent together Lives within my heart

It was raining on the day that you met her.

That was strange. For Barcelona. The rain.

You found yourself where you usually could be found, to anyone who would take notice. Which wasn’t anyone to your knowledge except for a few observant teachers. In the art room, in the back corner, working relentlessly at an easel that your favourite teacher would set up for you.

You had transferred into the school part way through term, and for the first few days as with most schools you were the new and shiny thing. At 12 a lot of the kids in school had known each other since birth and you were new fresh blood to entertain them.

That didn’t last too long though when they realised you weren’t actually that interesting.

Shy and quiet as you always had been, you kept yourself to yourself. Its not that you didn’t want to make friends. You did. You so desperately did. But you just didn’t know how.

You had a stutter. That never helped. Kids could be cruel. And with the move from your hometown to Mollet for your mum's job it had only gotten worse.

Words felt like lead in your mouth, your jaw felt tight and you struggled to get your words out. They stuck in your throat and refused to move from there.

The teachers were kind. Your peers were not. Your speech therapist was helping. You spent more time than any 12 year old should thinking about sentence structure and breathing techniques.

You knew your parents worried about you. Waiting for you to get home from school every day with worried glances and eager smiles; “Did you make any friends today niña?” your dad would ask, pretending to be casual, flicking through some book or another. “Not today Papi.” You would reply, never wanting to lie to your family, before happily jumping the couch next to him and starting to scribble in your notebook.

“Maybe tomorrow niña. There is always tomorrow”.

Well. Turns out dads are clever.

Because there was always tomorrow. And on an unusually rainy day for Mollet tomorrow came.

“Putellas!! Get back here! Pute-...”

The door to the art room quickly opened and slammed closed. The noise jolts you out of your peaceful reverie. A tall brunette girl smashed her back against the door and a hand quickly flicked out to turn the lights off to the room.

She clearly hadn’t noticed you huddled in the corner as she slid down the door onto her butt. Closing her eyes she let out a deep sigh and rested her forehead on her knees.

You didn't know what to do.

You knew who she was. Of course you did. She was Alexia Putellas.

The Alexia Putellas. Futbol superstar. Well… the 12 year old playground version of that. The coolest girl in school. She oozes confidence. Was always surrounded by a gaggle of your peers. Never without a ball at her feet or in her hands. But she hadn’t noticed you. Arm still raised working on the canvas in front of you, vision now impeded by the dark she had forced onto the room by turning the light off. You froze. Mouth slightly agape and hand starting to sweat. You watched as she rocked her forehead side to side on her knees. Your arm became tired in its upright position and the noise of you plopping the brush back into the water jar seemed to jolt her out of her stupor. Her neck snapped up and you met her wide, hazel eyes that bore into you. “Oh! Lo siento, I didn’t… I didn’t know anyone else was in here.” She was met with silence. Your stutter affected you terribly on a good day. Nevermind your safehaven suddenly being invaded by the coolest girl in school. Who you had idolised from afar since arriving in Mollet. Her head tilted curiously as she took you in. You felt her eyes drift to the canvas behind you. “Did you paint that?” She stands to her full height, still keeping her distance from you. “Why are you painting in the dark…?” She asks curiously. Head still tilted. Faced with a direct question you couldn’t put it off any longer. You couldn’t delay the inevitable. “Y..y…you, tu…tu….switched off….” Changing the words you intended to use halfway through was a coping mechanism that your therapist had tried to get you to work out of your system. She called it masking. You called it getting by. You raise your hand and point to the lightswitch that she had flicked when she entered the room. She looks at you harder now. You feel her eyes boring into you and wait for the inevitable laughter. The pity. Maybe even the cruelty that you are used to when people hear you speak. You cast your eyes down, waiting for the blow. But you just hear a flick of a switch, and the darkness behind your eyelids lifting. “I’m sorry, I wouldn’t have switched it off if I had known. I was just trying to get away. I kicked a football at Senorita Lopez by accident in the gym. They won’t let me play outside in the rain. Idiotas” You lift your eyes at her gentle, lilting tone as a smile teases your lips. She's moved closer to you now. “You didn’t answer. Did you paint this?” Her hand comes out to hover over the lines of your still-wet painting. Carefully. Again, you’ve been asked a direct question. “Si.” you reply, quietly. You don’t struggle so much with single words. “By yourself?” she asked, aghast, wonder taking over her features. You nod in reply. “This is so cool! Show me!” A grin overtakes your features as you nod more enthusiastically. Glasses slipping down your nose. Pulling out a fresh canvas for your new friend. “Lo siento, I haven’t told you my name. My Papa says it's rude not to introduce myself…” she stands tall and thrusts out her hand. Very formally. Very practised. “I am Alexia Putellas Segura.” You pause for a moment, looking at her outstretched hand. You wipe your clammy hands on your jeans. And shake her hand. “A…A…” you grow frustrated with yourself, the words getting stuck in your throat. You pull your hand away but Alexia keeps her grip firm and nods at you encouragingly. “Al…Alex… Alex.” you give up. Eyes downcast. Maybe you can tell your papa you nearly made a friend today. “Alex! Cool! I’ve never had that nickname! Most people call me Ale. But it can be our thing. I know you, you are y/n I remember Senora Perez making you stand at the front of class. Show me how to paint! Please? ” Alexia was not a good painter. She quickly got bored and distracted by the newspaper on the desk intended for a paper mache project which she screwed up together, fashioned into a football and then spent the rest of the wet lunchtime kicking around the art room aiming for various targets that she would shout out to you.

You dutifully cheered at every successful hit of the target. That night as you climbed onto the couch next to your papa and he asked; “Did you make any friends today niña?”. You couldn’t wait to reply; “Si! Alex.” You missed the way his newspaper dropped ever so slightly, and he caught the eye of your mami who was in the kitchen. “Ah, Si? Alex should come for dinner! We would love to welcome him!” He replied, his delight even obvious to you. “No tonta… Alex is a girl!” you let out. In that hilariously moody way only 12 year olds can. You became inseparable. Alexia was your best friend. Complete and total opposites. She would spend wet lunches in the art room with you. She would drag you to the playing fields after school and on break and you would be a goalie for her. Which was really just you standing complaining about where you found yourself and you dived away from balls as she cackled out a laugh. She came round for dinner with your family most nights. You spent every weekend at the Putellas household, travelling to her football games, strapped up next to Alba in the back of the Putellas family car, scribbling away in a notebook as you drew landscapes that you passed. On the way home you would sketch and sketch, only slightly hindered by the weight of your gangly best friend as she slept on your shoulder. Your art would sit on both family fridges. Alex’s football boots would litter both entrance ways. Your mami would pick Alba up from the junior school if Eli got stuck at work. Joint family dinners were the norm.

Your relationship evolved through the years. Easily. Blissfully. You grew together. You became taller, however still paling in height compared to your best friend. You got braces and had them removed, You wore contacts most days now instead of your thick rimmed glasses. Though you still could usually be found in the art rooms.

Alexia filled out, she became less gangly and more strong, after years dedicated to football and training.

Your speech improved. Your stammer only comes out rarely and you know your triggers. You worked hard every week with your speech therapist but you always credited Alexia. She gave you confidence.

No one at school would roll their eyes or laugh at you when Alexia was by your side. She didn’t rush you. She didn’t finish your sentences. Nothing was more formidable within your school walls than if Alexia had found out someone had made fun of you, or not been patient with you. She got in trouble countless times defending your honor. Even if the teachers hated punishing her for it.

You maybe realised on some level that you were as important to Alexia as she was to you the day that caused her to miss the U15 School Championship final.

One of the more idiotic older basketball boys had caught you in the hallway. Trying to impress his gaggle of followers he had tripped you up as you were on your way scurrying into the art rooms to finish the sign you had made for Jaume to wave at the upcoming championship final. You had fallen flat on your face, quickly moving onto your back and pressing yourself against the wall. It had been a while due to Alexia's influence but you had dealt with bullies your entire life and you knew you had to just make yourself small and wait it out. “Oh s-s-s-s-s–s-s-oooorry it w-w-w-as an a-a-a-a-accident!!” the boy taunted you, leaning over you and exaggerating your stutter.

His spittle hitting your face and making you wince. He brought himself to his full height, which was impressive for a 16 year old and turned to his friends. “Honestly, how is she even in this school, she is so estupida!” His guffaw was matched by his followers however their faces quickly dropped as they looked behind their ringleader. “What did you just say to her?” a cold, terse voice entered the conversation. You didn’t see his face drop but you could imagine it.

He quickly turned and looked at Alexia standing in the doorway. Sunshine behind her darkening your view. As she stepped into the halfway you took in the thunderous look on her face. You don’t think you’ve ever seen her as angry.

You barely recognised her. “I-i-i sai…” This time he wasn’t impersonating you.

He knew he was fucked. She moved quicker than you had ever seen her move on the football pitch. The tall boys friends quickly scattered as she grabbed him by his shoulders. He may have had at least two foot of height difference on her but that quickly diminished to nothing as she kneed him squarely between the legs. He doubled over in pain as she landed blow after blow to his stomach. “Alex… stop.” you instructed, gathering yourself to your feet.

Your voice cut through her rage and she immediately stopped her punches. He scurried off as soon as he was able to, no serious damage done apart from to his ego… and maybe his balls. She turned to face you after shouting some choice expletives to his back, face immediately morphing into one of concern, eyebrows furrowed as her hands cupped your face. “¿Estás bien?” She asked, seriously. Hands moving to check you over.

“Si, Si, estoy bien.” you replied. “You shouldn’t have done that Alex.” you regarded her with sceptical eyes.

Her brow furrowed further, “What should I have done then? He’s un maton, he hurt you. I taught him a lesson. I would do it again. I would. I am not sorry.” she said firmly as she moved your head beneath her chin and wrapped her strong arms around you.

You tried to pretend that the butterflies in your stomach erupting at her protectiveness were a normal reaction to a friend.

Right? She repeated the same platitudes the next day, but this time with Jaumes hand on her shoulder as she sat in the headmaster's office. The boy she had humiliated so happened to be the son of one of the school governors. The headmaster told the footballer and her father that if Alexia apologised to the boy then she would go unpunished, otherwise, he would be forced to stop any of her extra-curricular activities, including the interschool championship final. Which, as headmaster, he really didn't want to do when his school had their first chance of winning in over a decade. She refused.

She was banned from playing.

The team lost.

Badly. The guilt ate away at you as you both watched from the sidelines as the 5th goal against your team went in.

She grasped your knee, and still watched the game. “Stop feeling guilty. I am still not sorry. There are more important things than football conejita.”

You took a breath and placed your hand on top of hers. You turned to look at her incredulously. “I mean, very few. Football is still in the top 2. Food is 3.” she continued, deadpan. Forcing a laugh out of you. You asked her once, years after first meeting, one sleepover when you were both lying side by side on the Putellas trampoline looking up at the stars. Why was she so patient with you? When no one else was? She looked at you, dumbfounded, genuinely confused by the question. “You have a voice y/n. You deserve to be heard.” she replied. Moving into her favourite position which was pulling all of your weight completely on top of her. Your head rested over her heart. You could hear the thump thump thump against your ear. You hoped she couldn’t feel the fluttering of yours.

It was that simple to her. “Plus you looked like a rabbit in the headlights when I barged in, you were too cute. Mi pequeña coneja”.

Your Alex.

You transitioned from best friends into girlfriends at 16 with no fanfare. A shy kiss after a win at Alexia's latest championship sealed it. Her grin splitting her face. Yours matching when you realised your dreams could become a reality. Hands held tentatively in the backseat of Jaumes car as he smiled at the scene through his rear view mirror. Days later, as you both stood in front of your mami and papi shyly holding hands you realised, squeezing the trembling hand in yours, that it was the first time you had seen Alex nervous. In all of your years of friendship.

Alexia still had her weirdly formal streak, the same as the day you met her, so you let her do what she felt she needed to.

“Senor y Senora y/l/n… “ she started, taking a breath. “Mi and y/f/n…”

Your parents caught your eye, dumbfounded. She never used their titles. They rarely heard her use your name. You were always conejito.

“Alexia… estimada…” your mami started, with kind eyes. You could tell she knew what was coming. You shook your head at her slightly, Alexia too caught up in her own moment to notice. Your mami let her speak.

“Mi and y/f/n…”

Your papi, however, was not as emotionally in tune as your mami, “Monito, what is going on? Why are you being muy loca? Have you got mi mija pregnant? I know you're an overachiever bu…” “Papi!” you screeched out, interrupting him.

Alex stood mouth agape, face flushed as she looked to you for help. “Papi, Mami, Alex is tr…try…tryi… telling you that we’re together together.” you let out, raising your joined hands. Your mami let out a laugh behind her hands, your papi however stood and exclaimed, “Was that some sort of secret!? Dios Mio of course you are! We thought you had been for years! You made me change your bedtime story from princesses to football-playing princesses on the day you met! Why do you think your Mami makes you keep your door open when this one stays, Mija?”

Now it's your turn to blush as your mouth drops open. As he passes Alexia he gently smacks her upside the head, ruffling her long brunette hair. “Now come on cabeza de bola, me and the guys from work are starting a 5 a side. I need your help on penalties…” You huff out a laugh as your girlfriend is dragged away, confused look stuck on her face - eyebrows adorably drawn and mouth furrowed and clinging to your hand until distance forces her to let go.

Your mami settles her arm across your shoulders. “I’m happy for you Mija” she mutters, in her gentle tone as you fall into her embrace. “You’re going to marry that girl one day.” Even after everything that would happen and the hell you would feel, you thank God for the unseasonal rain in Barcelona that day in junior school.

And when she was sadI was there to dry her tearsAnd when she was happy, so was IWhen she loved me It wasn’t long after you made your relationship official that you had your first real test.

You knew something was wrong with your girlfriend probably before she did. You knew her like the back of your hand. Though it finally came to a head one early evening at the Putellas household.

You had both picked Alba up from school, and you had set out to making dinner in the Putellas kitchen whilst Alexia's parents were both stuck at work.

It was standard practice, occurring at least once a week. You moved through the kitchen with ease. The ease is what alerted you.

Usually, on nights like these, Alba would huff off to her room like any other pubescent teenager, head stuck in her phone and earphones firmly in place. Alexia however, would usually be found attached to your back, arms wrapped around you as you cooked, or sat at the breakfast bar, swiping chopped veggies til you hit her with a spoon to make her stop, rolling your eyes as she insisted she was a growing girl and she needed the extra.

No, this was too easy, you thought, as you moved around, you missed your big inconvenience in the kitchen and you made sure your pasta sauce was bubbling nicely and went to search for her.

You find her in the living room, her large frame draped over the sofa, eyes mindlessly watching the TV. But you can tell she isn’t watching whatever is on. Ale isn’t a big TV-watcher. She's very rarely sitting still for long enough to concentrate. The exception being if you're in her lap, where she entertains herself by playing with your hair or tracing the lines on your palm. “Hey, amor, estás bien?” your voice brings her out of her thoughts, “Ey? Ah sí conejito, lo siento, is dinner ready?” she asks, making to stand, but being stopped by your hand on her shoulder. “Ay, when did I become the hired help, ey?” you ask, trying to tease a smile out of your girlfriend. “Dinner will be ready soon. Tell me what's on your mind.” The thing about Alex is she’s an open book. People may think she is stern and serious but she wears her heart on her sleeve. You can always see her thoughts plainly on her face, so you know something troubling her. She knows she can’t hide it from you, so she doesn’t try. “I’ve been offered a professional contract.” She states, plainley. Your heart lifts for her. Your whole life Alexia has bled football. For many years she believed, and you did too though you would never admit it, that it wouldn't be possible to make a career from the sport. You don’t think you have ever seen Alexia as sad as when she aged out of the Barcelona FC teams. She was devastated. It was a harsh reminder that Spain wasn't the USA. The opportunities are not always available. But the thing you loved most about Alexia was her dogged determinedness. She would train in the morning, in the afternoon, between classes. You are overjoyed that all of that hard work has paid off. Something wasn’t adding up with her reaction, however. “Alex, that's amazing news!” you exclaimed, unable to hide the joy in your voice. “Why are you not more excited? Is it a bad deal?” “No, amor, it is a fair deal.” she sighs. You just look into her eyes, waiting for her to tell you what she wants to share. She takes a deep breath. “It’s Levante, I would have to move to Valencia.” Ah, you see. Your heart breaks at the sad frown painted on the usually stern face of your girlfriend. Your hand moves up to trace her eyebrow, forcing them to unfrown and moving down to cup her cheek. She leans heavily into the warmth of your hand, and damp eyes open, fixing to yours. “Oh Alex, it’s okay” you whisper. The truth is you had always known that with the career your girlfriend was destined to follow, that you would have to spend time away from each other. You already did. Alexia has often been away throughout your friendship and now your relationship for national camps.

You had a very mature relationship for 17 year olds. Having been woven into each other's lives for so many years. You were part of each other's DNA. You knew how to manage the time without your girlfriend. You were both grade A communicators. You accepted that this would be different, and no doubt unimaginably hard for the footballer, her family was her life. But so was football. And you know you needed to encourage her to take this step. “It’s not okay!” she stated, firmly, sitting up straight on the couch. “It’s not fair! Finally I get what I have dreamed of but it comes at the expense of everything I love. Mi familia, Barcelona, you! Why can’t I have both? I don’t know what to do” “You go to Levante, Alexia.” you say, seriously, “This is a huge opportunity for you.” She looks at you incredulously and you’re not sure what you’ve done wrong. “Oh, so it is that easy for you? Si? You just let me go like it doesn’t even bother you!” You aren’t used to Alexia's stern frown being sent your way, usually it's aimed at someone in defence of you. Or at a goalkeeper. You, however, know the brunette is feeling vulnerable, she has waves of insecurity at times, she puts so much pressure on herself it's inevitable, but you are always there to assure her of her worth, and your love. “You know that's not true, amor.” you say, tenderly, hand reaching into her brunette locks to sooth her. “I agree, it’s not fair that Barca don’t have a women's team but I have always known your talent would take you away from me, “ she opens her mouth to interject, “but I love you. And I know you love me. We are tethered. Forever. When, not if, you go to Valencia, we will make it work. You know we will amor, you can have both” “But I will miss you.” she whimpers, pathetically. “I will miss you every second. But it will get better, it’ll pass Alex.” Her head finds your neck as she settles in there. Her larger frame is quite comically draped over you. “Do you promise?” she lets out, weakly. And you don’t let a moment pass, “I promise.” and seal your promise with a kiss to the crown of her head. She moves her chin up and faces you, “Beso, por favour” she asks, who are you to refuse? You kiss softly, you don’t know how many minutes you are tasting her sweet lips pass before you are interrupted by a sulky 14 year old. “Ewwww!”

Alba appeared, making the two of you split apart, her disgust at the scene she's found making you laugh as Alexia peels herself from you, rolling her eyes.

“I’m gonna tell Mami that you two were making out instead of feeding m…ahh!” Albas accusations getting lost as Alexia chases her around the living room, ready to fight in a way only sisters can.

A strange smelling odour fills your nose. Oh… Oh no. You rush into the kitchen to find your dinner smoking on the hob.

“Oi, Putellas diablos!” You stick your head into the living room where you find Alexia sat on her younger sister whilst she tries to battle off the huge weight she finds on herself. They both pause and look at you guiltily. “C’mon, shoes on, we’re going out to eat, on me, we’re celebrating!”

Both of them unite in cheers as they childishly jump up and run to the front door in glee, shoving each other out of the way to try to get their shoes on first as you watch, affectionately shaking your head.

It will be months later, after a summer filled with memories made with your girlfriend, days at the beach, trips to the market, lazy days at home and soft moments made in the streets of Barna, that you would find yourself alone in bed.

That was weird.

You had spent the day packing with Alexia, the sadness of moving away had started to be replaced with excitement from the tall girl. Her dreams were coming true, okay, it may not be perfect, she finally understands, but it's a step in the right direction.

She can’t believe that she's going to get paid to play football.

Paid. The evening after a long day of packing was spent having a family meal at the Putellas household. Your family is also in attendance. It was a loud and joyous affair and it helped to keep the sadness out of your girlfriend's eyes. After a long evening of sombremesa Alexia had insisted on coming back with you to your parents to your house.

She didn’t want to spend her last evening in Barcelona in her empty bedroom, instead finding solace in yours. You had both talked into the early hours, in the arms of each other, trading soft touches and exchanging breaths until sleep took you. You pretended for her sake that you couldn’t hear her rattling breaths or feel the dampness of her cheeks on your fingers.

Now, however, you were alone, and unsure at what woke you up. Until a tapping comes to your attention. You sit up in bed and hear it again. What is that? You get out of bed and go towards your window, yep, there it is again, coming from outside. You throw open the curtains and peer out into the moonlit garden.

It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the darkness but you can’t take that moment because you suddenly are hit squarely in the face by a pebble.

“Ouch.. what the he…” you stand suddenly and bang your head on the window frame “Ow, Fuck!” “Ay Dios Mío, lo siento amor! I didn’t see you had opened the window!” Alexia's panicked voice reached your ears, why was she in the garden? What the hell was going on? “Are you okay conejito?” You take a moment to steady yourself and your mind into your new and abrupt situation. “Conejito?” “Yes, Alex, I am fine. What are you doing out there?” You’re met with silence. “Al?” The tall brunette is scuffing her foot against the pebbles of the garden that she had previously been launching at the window. “I don’t want to say. I feel stupid now.” You arch your eyebrow in her direction. You don't think that she can even see it but she knows what's aimed in her direction. “I couldn’t sleep. I was too excited. And also sad. And muddled. And I will miss you so much so I was just imagining how good it will feel when you visit, or I visit. Or when I score a goal and you’re watching. Which I know you’ve seen but now it's my job.” she rambles, pausing momentarily to take a breath.

“Anyway, I thought about how cool it would be if I came to visit and woke you up by throwing stones at your window like in a film! You’d love that! Then I just couldn’t wait to do it. So here’s me, doing it. I’m being romantic.” She throws a crooked grin up at the window and your heart literally melts. “I..I….” and you promptly burst into tears. “Oh no mi amor no! Don’t cry. I didn’t mean to throw a pebble at your face! I’m sorry!” she gestures towards you with her hands frantically. “It’s not that Alex, you’re just such an idiot. And I love you so much. I am going to miss you so much. Get up here.” needing her arms wrapped around you. She nods vigorously and makes to climb the trellis that goes to your window. “No you idiot! Use the door! You have a key!” “Oh yeah.” you hear her mutter to herself before she scurried back inside. As you’re settled back into her warm arms, her huge hands palming through your hair. “That was very romantic Alex.” you mumble and you practically hear her purr with pride at herself. “Next time though bebe, use your key, I would much rather you be here in bed with me.” “Noted.” she mumbles into your skin, wiping away the tears that you can’t stop from rolling down your cheeks. Alexia got settled into her professional team quickly and efficiently, she was one of the youngest but easily the most talented on the pitch. You would travel up with Jaume religiously at the weekends wherever you could, your time in the week spent busy with the Art College you had enrolled in. Alba sometimes tagging along when you bribed her with snacks.

As promised you were there when she scored her first professional goal, her beaming smile sent directly to you and Jaume in the stands, stood cheering for her. You witnessed her wide eyes, after the game, as you stood waiting for your celebratory hug and maybe a cheeky kiss, when she was stopped by a little hand. “Hola.” the small girl had to crane her neck to look up at your girlfriend. She was shaking with excitement. “Hola?” she replied, confused. “Can I have your autograph por favour?” she asked, sweetly. Alexia just stood there, like a sim.

You stepped forward with your notepad and drawing pencil that you carry everywhere, you had more drawings of inside a football stadium than anyone would need. You ripped out a page and handed Ale the pencil. “Of…of course?” She scribbled down her autograph for the young girl who beamed and ran away holding it above her head to show her mami who picked her up in glee. Alexia's wide eyes stared at you. “Did you see that?” “I saw that bebe, I handed you the pencil. I also saw your goal, superstar!” You couldn’t control your grin, which was mirrored by your girlfriend. “You played so well! Alex!” You're interrupted as she drags you over the fencing and pulls you into a bear hug. Her face nuzzled into your neck, her body vibrating with excitement. “I scored for you conejito!” she says “Well, hija, I won’t be offended, I have only been to every game you’ve played for 10 years” Jaume appears above you both still in the stands, smiling teasing his lips. “And you papa!” she releases you and pulls her papa into a hug. Dragging you back in after a moment before declaring that her first goal means that she deserves pizza and ice cream courtesy of her papa.

Through the summer and the fall We had each other, that was all Just she and I together Like it was meant to be

You finished your college course and your love for art had never died. You made the trip to Valencia wherever possible to see Alex and she came back to Barna at least once a month to see her family and you on an off weekend. You would spend those weekends living at Alexias house, soaking up every moment together as much as possible.

She would bring her clothes home for Eli to wash as she was useless at anything practical. You would make sure that you would always snag a sweater of hers before it was washed and keep hold of it, soaking in her scent before you could swap it out again. Alexia, used to pretend she hated it, they would always be returned with paint stains around the cuffs which would harden and she said irritated her skin. You tried to be more careful but you didn’t stop stealing them.

You saw the same amount of her family as before she moved away, your lives had been so intrinsically linked that you had become an honorary Putellas, and she was a part of your family. You hung around with Alba and you helped Eli with her shopping when her car broke down. You were family.

Weirdly enough, it was you that met Alexia's future best friend first. After college, you started to make money from your art by being a live artist at weddings.

You knew your parents were worried about what you would do with your art. Teaching was the obvious choice but with your speech issues, it was your idea of hell.

This was perfect.

It was a niche business but you got paid well and you loved it. You got to go to weddings for a job. You got to capture people's joy on the most important day of their lives. You would sit in the corner with an easel set up, sketching and painting guests, the dance floor, the top table. And you could immediately give your paintings to the couple and their guests, the validation was enormous, you were good at what you did. Discreet and professional.

You soon get a client list for miles and the money starts to pour in.

It was at one of these weddings that you met Mapi. She caught your eye during the speeches and you started to draw her outline. She was clearly very very gay at a very straight wedding. But it wasn’t just that that caught your eye, her tattoos intrigued you. And you loved sketching them and adding hints of colour here and there.

She looked up at you and caught you sketching, as guests often would, you were able to not let it distract you, ever the professional you offered a gentle smile.

“You like football?” a heavily accented voice reached your ears as you were adding the finishing touches to the dancefloor scene that was set out before you.

“Que?” It wasn’t often that guests interacted with you, but sometimes it happened.

“Your bag, FC Barcelona? That's not usual for a pretty girl like you, to like football.”

“Ah, Si.” You reply, your eyes not moving from your painting. “It’s my girlfriends.” you reply, emphasising your relationship status, not wanting a moment of confusion.

“Ah, boo, you have ruined my fun.” She replies, “Maria Leon '' She introduces herself, hand out for you to shake, you don’t take her hand, handing your paint-y hands up. She holds her hands up in surrender. “I see, I see. FC Barcelona though. Good team. No women's team though.”

“No, but there will be, and my girlfriend will be their top scorer when it happens” you reply confidently. “You seem so sure?” “I am.” She lets out a laugh. “I can’t argue with that, then I will be their best defender” she offers a huge smile. Mapis smile is magic and makes you smile.

You and Mapi become firm friends. She talks. And talks and talks and talks. You don’t know how she has so much to say. But she is fun and she is kind. Your stutter makes an appearance as it sometimes does but it is perfectly offset by her inability to stop yapping. You don’t feel a pressure to fill the silence because you know she will.

Years later, at a supercup final, you will both laugh about your first conversation. About how both of your statements came true. Turns out, people paid well for authentic paintings of their favourite moments. And as a young adult you found yourself with enough money to get yourself a small apartment in Mollet. You loved it. And you loved the independence it brought you. You think that was the happiest time of your life. You would spend days on your sun drenched terracotta tiled balcony. Painting watercolour and sketching the scenes both in your mind and your view over the square that your apartment was on. You had quite the online following and would get some commissions for your art which brought you a sense of purpose and joy. The absolute best time was when Alexia had a free weekend, or a break, she would stay with you and you would live in domestic bliss. It was an unspoken agreement. No question that she would make her base for her time back at your apartment. Even when she wasn’t there you wouldn’t sleep on her side of the bed. More of her clothes made their way into your closet. More of her sweaters would get paint marks on them. You would cook together, sing together, dance together in your small kitchenette. Feeling happy and in love as only young people can. Nothing gets between you. Training had been kind to your girlfriend, and you struggled to keep your eyes off her as she would do basic tasks. She was thick. For want of a better word. Her gangly limbs had become pure muscle, her back would ripple when putting on a t-shirt, you would find yourself staring at her forearms as she would cut vegetables. She knew what she did to you and she loved it. Often sending a wink your was and sending you into more of a stuttering mess then usual, heat climbing to your face. You felt your heart grow as you would go shopping for groceries together. Take strolls in the square, you sitting on a bench and sketching as she inevitably got herself involved in a football game with the local kids. Her favourite time of day would be Friday nights. Often, if she was lucky, she would be scheduled an early kick off on fridays. You would travel back from the game together with her papi. You took the backseat as you knew you would monopolise her time back all weekend. Giving her a chance to catch up with her family. You would get home, she would shower whilst you made a light dinner, both taking it in on the balcony before moving inside and settling on the couch. She would put on some illegally screened recordings of the game she had played in. But she would mute it as she pulled you into her chest. You would have a sketchbook in hand and continue working on your art, or a piece from a wedding that needed finishing up. You always told her the commentary wouldn’t distract you. But she insisted. Once finally saying, “I like the sound of your pencil, it soothes me, and sometimes you trace the sketch on my leg with your free hand. It gives me goosebumps. I like it.” you never asked again. You argued, of course, like any couple did. But it never lasted long. Alex would get angry when she would find paint in the sink, and you would struggle to share your space at first. But you never went to bed in a fight. Even if you tried to be stubborn your body would fail you and you would gravitate towards her in the moments before sleep, muttering your apologies or forgiveness. In those early days of young adulthood it would be the only time in your relationship where you had more money than Alex.

Football did not pay well. It did not pay a living wage.

You didn’t care.

You felt privileged every time you scanned your card for the groceries, or paid for dinner on a date. You knew she hated it though. “One day conejito, I will give you everything life can offer, I promise” she would whisper into your skin whilst she tried to make it up to you in other ways. You would always tell her you had everything you needed right there with you. It was perfect. Life was perfect. You had friends, a stable job, the love of your life. Yes, distance was hard, yes, each time she left you would cry and hold her tighter to you, but you knew it wasn’t forever, and you never felt that distance in your relationship. You grew together, like a plant, your love was carefully cultivated in experiences and shared memories.

And when she was lonely I was there to comfort her And I knew that she loved me

You had never felt sadness like it. It was all encompassing. You couldn’t get away from it. You were sad for your chosen family. You were sad for your own family. You were sad for yourself. But you were devastated for your girlfriend. You didn’t know what to do with so much sadness. You couldn’t hold it in, but you couldn’t let it out. You needed to be strong for your girlfriend. Who was walking around as a shell of the person that you knew her to be. Well, that was when she was walking, she would throw herself into her childhood bedroom and stay there silently for hours. You would be okay with it if she was sleeping, but she just stared at the wall aimlessly. Her Papa was her inspiration. The reason she got into football. She would look up to him even as she towered over him. And it was so so cruel that he had been taken away from her in such a manner. A week after Jamues passing you found yourself next to Alexia at his funeral. It was a beautiful affair, a celebration of the life of a man who loved hard and was loved hard. The morning had been difficult, you had ironed Alexia's dress and set it out for her. She took your instruction like a small child, you brushed her hair straight and pulled it out from her face. You struggled to speak. Such immense grief you felt the words became garbled in your mouth, rendering you mute. But you didn’t want any pressure on Alexia.

You knew when your stutter made an appearance she would drop everything, concentrate on doing your exercises with you, hand automatically cupping your jaw and massaging the soft area beneath your ear because she knew that relaxed your facial muscles. So you both moved around silently. That morning. As you guided her around what needed to be done. As you packed her bag with tissues you hoped that you needed to use them. You hadn’t seen her cry since she rushed home from Valencia to the news. So no, you didn’t know what to do with your grief. You loved him too. He was the first person you had loved and lost. You had your own special relationship built from long car journeys and shared snacks. He would put your art on his fridge like you were one of his own. He was kind and he was half of the person who you loved to your core. God. If you felt like this. You don’t know how Alexia was still breathing. You had been spending all week as the Putellas household. Not leaving Alex's side. But also not leaving Alba, who would lean heavily into you of an evening, seemingly crying all of the tears that her sister couldn’t. It felt healthy though, through the tears you could share memories and make her laugh. You would go to bed with Alex and the silence would continue. When you were sure she was asleep you would sneak out of bed and grab your sketch pad, settle into the corner of the room and just let it out. Her dad told you once at a game how his father worked as a coal miner. He said it proudly, he adored hard work. That's where Alexia got her devotion from. It was a passing moment, a memory that you didn't even know you had. But it stuck with you as you went into the Putellas garden and took a lump of coal from the barbeque and settled yourself into the dewey grass. Hand not stopping over your sketchpad and tears rolling down your cheeks.

The night after the funeral you stayed at your own parents house. You couldn’t handle the loneliness of your own apartment. You didn’t want to intrude at the Putellas residence, and you hoped that maybe some time with her family would be what Alexia needed to open up. You were right, but not in the way you imagined. A soft clink, clink, clink, woke you up, This time you were not frightened. You had heard this noise before. You immediately jumped out of bed and ran to your window, showing it open and shoving your head out. “Alex! What are you doing here, why didn’t you use your key?” The brunette looked up at you with sad eyes, you saw she was in her pyjamas, eyes sideways showing no car, she had walked here. “I forgot it.” she let out, morosely. “Oh mi amor, no p..p..problem, hold on I will come down and let you in.” before you had a chance to bring your body back into the house you heard her again, “You left me.” your heart cracked into two. You didn’t reply but instead hurried downstairs into the moonlit garden. She stood there, with all her muscle and height, looking everything like a toddler who was lost in a supermarket. You took her hand in yours and used your other to cup her cheek. “Oh, mi amor I didn’t leave you, I thought you wanted some space.” Maybe you expected her to agree, maybe you expected her to disagree and shout at you for getting it so wrong. You didnt realise that you were to her, like an umbrella in the rain, protecting her from the downpour. With you gone she drowned in the grief. You didn’t expect her lip to tremble and her to burst into tears. “I want my papa.” Those 4 words broke your heart as you huddled her into your arms, rocking lightly to bring her confort. There was nothing you could say, you just brought her into your bed and held her as she cried, painting her skin with whispers of your love “I know, bebe, I know, I promise it’ll pass, I promise, and I will be here. The pain will go. It will pass Alex and I will be here.” It became a mantra that you whispered into her skin.

As she calmed down you took a moment to think. As you got out of bed and she groaned in annoyance you hushed her with your lips to her skin. “Un momento, mi amor, I have something for you.”

You presented it nervously, unsure of the reaction you would get.

It was a framed picture that you had created. Not like your usual artwork as it was made from coal. Coal from the Putellas barbecue to be exact. It was a sketch of a man in the stands of a football stadium, somehow, eyes beaming with pride, laugh lines visible on his face. A footballer with a long ponytail and similar features jumping into his arms.

It was a scene you had witnessed hundreds of times throughout the years. You didn’t need to see it again to create it. The coal added a haunting and beautiful dimension to it. When you explained your reasoning Alexia looked deeply into your eyes. Holding onto the frame with white knuckles like her life depended on it.

“I love you.”

And when Alexia scored and helped her team to win the U19 Championship for her country not 3 weeks later. Celebrating with eyes to the sky, fingers pointed. You knew that, eventually, she would be okay.

So the years went by I stayed the same But she began to drift away I was left alone Still, I waited for the day When she'd say, "I will always love you"

It was as though it had been destined for years but finally finally the news came that Barcelona FC would have a women's team. Mapi had texted you with glee when the news broke out, she knew that she was stuck in her own contract but the fact it existed made it a possibility for her dreams to come true. Your girlfriend, on the other hand, was a free agent. You thought, privately, that even if she wasn't a free agent that she would break every law on planet earth to play for her childhood club. She was offered a contract and signed without any hesitation. A mist in her eyes at the missing presence in her signing photos. You drove with Alba to collect her and all her things from a year in Valencia directly to your apartment. As you unpacked her stuff, Alba on a food run with money you had shoved into her hand, your small flat suddenly felt full. “Alex,” You called, from the living room, you heard her shuffle around and pop her head into the bedroom where you stood, surrounded by boxes. “Si, conejito?” she asked, breathlessly. You took in her smile, that you had missed over the months, the light in her eyes, the ease of her movements. “I am just asking, I don’t actually remember asking you to move in?” You say, teasingly, gesturing to her boxes surrounding you. It was true, you hadn’t, it had just been assumed by both of you, as well as both of your families. A blush rose up her neck, “I mean… I-i-..”. You burst out laughing. “I am just teasing you”. A glint in her eyes took over and you had half a second to brace yourself before you were tackled by an almost 6ft wall of muscle. You landed gently on the bed with a thump. “Well, light of my life. I think it’s too late for that. Maybe I can make up for my rudeness.” Her voice takes on a sultry tone, attacking your neck with kisses, making you groan. “No, No, No, No, stop it you two! Why is this my life!” Well. Alba was back, You groaned as Alexias full body weight fell onto you as she heard her sister. You had a feeling you both had plenty of time to make up for it. Living with Alexia full time was natural. You had obviously had practice from the year she spent in Valencia but you didn’t realise how easy it would be. You knew where to step to not fall over her boots in the hallway without looking.

You amended your grocery show to include all her weird protein-packed foods. She would help you get ready for work in your evening gowns that you had to wear to fit in at the weddings, and she would stay up to make sure you got home safe and listened as you babbled on about your favourite parts, all the while taking it in for ideas for your own wedding. You continued to make money at weddings, Alexia rose through the ranks at the new Barcelona Femini team. Quickly establishing herself as a calm and serious captain.

She took her role seriously, she would study games religiously at home as you would paint or sketch. Your easel set up in the living room or on the balcony. She would rub your shoulders as you painted, eyes set on the TV at the game. The shared time doing your own activities matched you both perfectly. And just like that, years passed. Years in domestic bliss. Spent together and with your families. Vacations in Ibiza and even a pet cat called Pablo Petcatso, or Pabs for short, entered your little family unit. He was a ginger cat who loved a cuddle and loved getting into Alexia's kit bag, he even made it to the training once or twice, and you had to drive over there to pick him back up. Dragging him away from 22 cooing footballers.

Women's football grew, as did Alexia's paycheck. And with that, you think, looking back, as did the cracks in your relationship.

“We're here!” Alexias excited voice explained, you had pulled up outside a tall apartment building in the centre of Barcelona. She hadn’t shared with you where you were going. Insisting it needed to be a surprise.

“And where is here?” you looked up at the towering glass building above you, you didn’t come into the city much, you preferred the quiet of your suburb.

“You’ll see, you’ll see!” Her excitement was catching, and you found yourself giddy as the elevator took you further into the skies of the city.

“Ta-da!” She presents a huge open plan space before you, the glass fronted living room has views over the city to the sea. You could count at least 3 bedrooms from where you stood in the hallway. The kitchen was sleek, straight lines and clean granite.

“What is this place?” you ask, confused, taking in your surroundings. “It's our new apartment!” What? “What?” you breathe out. “Don’t you love it?!” Alexia remains giddy, her excitement not fading and she fails to notice your unenthused reaction. Your mind whirred. “Come look, come look!” she grabbed your hand, and pulled you further into the apartment. Proudly presenting each room to you. “And this room. I thought you could have it as your art studio!” “Art studio?” you whisper. “Yeah! Isn’t it so cool, and so much space. Now I wont get cross at you for getting paint all over the kitchen! Pabs will have so much room to explore!” She turns around and pulls you into her embrace, you are still shellshocked at everything presented to you. “I promised you, didn’t I? I would give you the world conejito.” Her eyes are so bright with joy, the smile so wide on her face, you couldn’t help but smile. Yes, the sleek lines, the large space, and the modern kitchen were beautiful. You didn’t see it for yourself, you preferred your terracotta tiled balcony and your plants overtaking your kitchenette. You loved painting in your living room when Alexia would watch a match. Pabs crawling over your shoulders, your little bubble with your family. But you could see how proud Alex was of herself, of what she had achieved. You must have taken a moment too long, as her eyebrows furrow. “You don’t like it.” you said, plainly, “No… No Alex, I do! I was just so surprised. I love it, and I love you.” “Yeah?” her eyes brighten again. You kiss her lips softly, “Yeah.” “Good! And think conejito, maybe one day there would be room for a bigger family?” she asks, shyly. Your heart melted as you nodded frantically and threw yourself into her embrace. As Alexia's career grew, so did the pressure on her. She was often away, it was something your whole relationship had survived, but now, being away with both club and country, as well as in an apartment that had never truly felt like home. You felt lonely. You would come home from weddings with only Pabs to greet you, you would create art in your studio without the background noise of Alexia watching a game, or preparing a smoothie. She would do that in the living area. Nights together were rarer. Your love never dimmed. Alexia showed you in her every movement that she adored you. Date nights, whilst few and far between, were the highlight of your week. Though that soon became the highlight of your month. The one saving grace during this time was that Mapi had finally joined Barcelona Femini and you took it on yourself to be her personal Barcelona guide. As Alexia's fame grew, you shied more into the background. You weren't an extrovert. You would never hide your relationship and you never asked Alexia to but the only social media that you had was that to promote your artwork. Meanwhile, Alexia's followers grew and grew. A few crazed fans had deep dived into her archives and knew of you but that was only a portion of the fanbase. She hated the delving into her private life, and that caused her to stop posting anything of you onto her public accounts. Any trace of you, gone. Before being a footballer, in Alex’ mind, she was your protector, that hadn’t changed from 15 years ago. With 2021 came great change. All of the years of dreams and hard work had paid off and Barca had reached the champions league final. You travelled to Gothenburg with Eli and Alba, a nervousness in your stomach more than usual. For both your girlfriend and your best friend. You celebrated the win with a euphoria you had rarely felt. Everything felt worth it. The lonely nights, the travel around the country, the sacrifices you had to make as the partner of La Reina.

And as she pulled you into her arms after the final whistle, and pulled you over the barricade the same way she did when she scored her first professional goal your heart couldn’t swell more with pride. You don’t want to say that Alexia changed after the Ballon D’or. Because she didn’t. Well, maybe she did, she suddenly sported bright blonde locks which, you admit was sexy, but you missed the softness her natural hair gave her face. By the second Ballon D’or you thought maybe it was you that changed. Maybe it was you that put up a barrier. One that couldn’t be identified easily. But with study it could be noticed. The problem was that Alex wasn’t there to notice. Yeah, you were together, you did things together, you made love and you made memories. You went back to Mollet regularly and ate with your families and you went to games with Alba. But Alexia was busy. She had brand deals, she had interviews, she had achieved her dream of being the best footballer in the world. You knew she was since you were 12. But now the world knew too. And the world wanted her attention.

Oftentimes she was exhausted when she got home. She didn’t want to cuddle on the couch. She didn't want to walk around the plaza. She didn’t want to hear about your day. She would ask, but you could tell her mind was elsewhere, in some contract somewhere, so you started to lie. To give answers which would satisfy her without arousing suspicion. Always trying to put her ease first.

You would decline for nights out with her teammates, you even lied once or twice and said you had a wedding to paint, just to avoid suspicion. Alexia would take your answer as the truth, and kiss your cheek lightly as she left the apartment which quickly felt like it had become your prison. Mapi could see through you. She would try to get you to talk, but she was Alexia's team mate. Alex was her captain. It didn’t feel right to discuss your relationship issues with her. Not when you wouldn’t even talk to the woman in question about it. You found yourself in the familiar seats of the Johan Cryuff stadium taking in the first home game of the new season. Alba and Eli by your side. The first game was always a family affair. With the Putellas cousins in attendance, a restaurant booked for this evening for you all. It was an easy win for the Champions of Europe. And as you stood with Mapi and her new girlfriend Ingrid at the end of the match chatting, Patri bounded over, sweat on her brow and joy in her eyes. “Hola Senora La Reina” she teased you, kissing your cheek, you had been around the team so much that they all knew you well. “Ay, Idiota, hands off” and large, familiar hands wrapped around your middle, a kiss planted to your other cheek as you melted into her embrace. “Congrats bebe” you muttered, craning you neck you see her looking down at you with a smile. “Senora Reina, you’ll come out for drinks with us to celebrate the win, won’t you?” Parti asked, full of joy.

The attention of the 4 footballers on you suddenly unsettled you. Maybe it was the busy environment. Maybe it was being with Ingrid who you’d only met a few times. Maybe it was Alexias hands around you for the first time in what felt like months. But you struggled to get your words out. “Ah, gra…grac…gracias for the invite diablo, but m…m…me…” “She’s coming out with mi familia Patri, it’s tradition! You know that! Vamos, I will come out quickly for a drink then join you all, conejito” Alexia interrupted you, planted a final kiss on your cheek and headed to the changing rooms. She didn’t feel you freeze in her embrace. She didn’t see Patri and Mapis expressions change. She didn’t see Ingrid's look of confusion. You felt sick. You felt like you were about to burst into tears. Your throat burned and you struggled to swallow.

You felt small. You shuffled your feet on the ground and looked up to see Mapis' face had grown furious, her girlfriend's arm had come to rest over her shoulders, trying to settle her but unsure why. You went straight into damage control. Alexia has protected you your entire life. She had never interrupted you, she knew you couldn’t stand when people would finish your sentences. It was the worst thing you could do to someone with a stutter. She knew that. You don’t know why Alexia's endless patience ran out that day. But you knew you wanted to protect her from your best friend's rage. You knew it would happen one day, you just wish it had happened without any witnesses. For both of your sakes. “Mapi, it's fine.” “It is not fine!” Patri backs away from the situation with a kiss to your cheek and an apologetic look. “I don’t know what's wrong with her lately. I am going to kill her…” she moves towards the changing rooms but you pause her with a soft hand. “Maps, please don’t. It’s f…f…okay. I am okay. Ju…just go get changed and go on your night out. I will t..text you tomorrow. Please.” You look to Ingrid for help, you don’t know her well but she has the power over Mapi seemingly, and as she guides her to the changing rooms the small Spaniard seems to settle down.

Not enough though, apparently, because as soon as she sees her captain again, a flicker of that rage comes back to her. “What the fuck is wrong with you!” Mapi hisses to her captain, “Maria, stop” Ingrid tugged her by the elbow, trying to take her away. Alexia looked up from her phone with a look of indignation, yes she was Mapis friend but she was still her captain, and they were in front of the whole team. Her defensive wall immediately came up. “Discuple?” Her eyes cast across the changing room, their team mates continued to get changed and pretended they weren’t eaves dropping into the mini argument that had developed.

“I said, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Mapi spat out. “Why did you interrupt her?” Something in Alexia's stomach dropped. Her hands become clammy, her body reacting to the accusation before her mind could. “What? I didn’t. I would never.” she whispers in reply, but more to herself. “No, No I didn't.” she said more surely, somewhat desperately.

Mapi takes in her best friend's demeanour, the usually stoic and strong captain looked devastated, maybe even petrified? Mapi knew what she had done, but could see that Alexia would punish herself more than Mapi ever could. She stepped away, guided by Ingrid. Leaving Alexia to replay the last 10 minutes, desperately. Mapi saw the moment that realisation came to the Catalan Captain, as she bolted out of the changing room, hair damp, throwing her shirt on as she sprinted back into the stadium. Which is where she found you, moments later. You were sitting in the friends and family section, Alexias new baby cousin settled onto your knee, playing with your hands and babbling to himself. You made cooing noises and spoke softly to him and all her Tias and Tios got rounded up for your meal out. You felt her presence behind you, you could practically feel her anxiety coming off her in waves. You looked back quickly and confirmed your suspicions, her blonde hair damp and wetting her shoulders, her foot twisting against the concrete floor, hands knotted together and bottom lip drawn into her lip, chewing anxiously. “It’s fine Alex.” you said, as you turned, attention back on the baby in your lap. She must have seen this acknowledgement as her body surged towards you, she loudly collapsed into the seat next to you, the anxiety coming off her in waves. “Conej…” she started. “No Alex, I pr…pr… I swear. It’s okay. But I’m currently holding the ba…bab…ba… child.” you take a sigh. “I am holding the child and I don’t want to cry so p…please. It’s okay.” If it's possible. She looked even more devastated. Her whole face collapsed. She hated when you would revert to old techniques to speak, by changing up your words mid sentence. Alexia was your protector. It was her proudest badge. Before she was a footballer, in her mind, she was your partner. And she had let you down. She had done the worst thing she could have done. To an outsider Alexia's moment of impatience may have been a minor indiscretion at most. But to you? To Alex? It was the basis of your whole relationship. You felt safe with her. You had a voice, she said, all those years ago when you fell in love, and you deserved to be heard. And now she has brought that into question. “Can I touch you?” she asked, gently. This brought tears to your eyes and you nodded, whilst still entertaining the baby in your lap with coo’s and a false smile. She touched your knee, the heat of her hand bleeding into your skin. “You don’t need to mask in front of me y/f/n.” Alexia never used your name. “Please. Use the words you want to use. I am here to listen. Always.” You are interrupted as Alexias Tia comes to claim her baby, who you hand back with a last pat on the stomach and raspberry to the cheek. You are trying to avoid the next 5 minutes you know will happen. Alexia is somewhat rude when her Tia offers her congratulations, eyes boreing into your head. You sweep your hair back as you face her, having had a moment to think you get your words out easier. “Alex, it’s okay. It was bound to happen one day. Don’t worry about it. Please. Go out with your friends. I will go to the meal as planned. I promise. Alba will drive me home later.” “No.” Alexia says desperately, clutching your hand in hers, “Let’s just go home, amor. Please.” “Ale I made a promise to your mami. I am going to eat. I will see you later.” you press a kiss to her cheek and wander off towards her family. As she stands, watching you interact with her sister and her mami, her teammates call her over. She feels torn. She just wants to go home with you. She just wants to wrap you up in cotton wool and keep you in her arms. Safe. But you don’t want that right now, so she turns to do as instructed. Throwing one more glance your way, missing Albas worried face as she wipes a tear from your cheek.

Lonely and forgotten Never thought she'd look my way And she smiled at me and held me Just like she used to do Like she loved me When she loved me

You came home early. You asked if Alba could drop you off as soon as you had finished your meal. She was happy to oblige, worried about your silence the entire meal. You were looking down at your phone as you entered your apartment. Assuring Mapi again that you were fine and she should enjoy her drinks. You go to flick on the light in the living area when a stream of light below the door of your studio distracts you. You push the door open cautiously and see Alexia standing there, looking at your work in progress. It was different to your usual work. A close up sketch of a hand, wrapped around a flower, tenderly, it was in the early stages, you could see the lines of the palm and the blades of grass in the field behind. It was mounted onto canvas on your easel and the splashes of colour you had started to add contrasted against the paleness of the room. She hadn’t heard you enter, too lost in the image before her, but Pabs making a run for the door as it opened brought her attention to you. As you stand there, under her gaze, you struggle to remember the last time you saw Alexia in your studio. Yeah she would bob in to let you know dinner was ready, or that she was heading out, but she didn’t come in often enough to take in your work anymore. Now it wasn’t forced on her in the living space. It seemed Alexia had the same realisation as she broke her gaze with you and gestured towards your painting, and then further, to your desk overlooking the window, where more of your work lay. “You’re amazing. I didn’t… I.” a deep breath. “I hadn’t forgotten but I think I… Got lost? Somewhere along the way?” you tilt your head curiously. You don’t know what she’s talking about. “I have been a bad partner to you.”

“Alex…” “No. I have. And I’m not interrupting you but I won’t let you lie to protect me.” her eyes go again to your easel. “You’re amazing. You are so talented. You are filled with so much kindness. You deserve so much more than this.” her eyes fill with tears and she looks at you. “I tried. You know? I promise I did. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought this,” she gestures towards you and around you “was what you deserved. And it is. But more than that you deserve everything.” She takes a step towards you and grasps your hands with hers, her hands are cold, you note. As you take her in you see dried tear tracks down her cheeks, and… damp hair. “Alexia, did you not go out with the team?” “How do you think that I could go out with the team after what I did?” she asks, aghast. The reminder of the way the evening went washes over you. Alexia panics when she sees your eyes fill with tears. And she pulls you into her chest. “I am so, so sorry mi amor. I am so sorry” she whispers into your hair. “I have broken something sacred between us. And I will never forgive myself.” she swears to you. Though that doesnt bring you any joy. “I forgive you Alex.” she shakes her head in despair, joining you in tears. “You said it was bound to happen someday,” she starts, “Do not think like that amor. It was not. This is not your fault. In any way. It is mine. Please don’t think that, you deserve to be heard. I am so so sorry. So sorry. I will never do it again, promesa.” All you can do is nod into her chest.

She pulls you from the room and settles you both into the sofa, keeping the light off, only the skyline of the city illuminating your living room through the large, glassed wall.

She lets you cry into her t-shirt, soaking it more than her damp hair, and through the darkness you pull away and take in her face, she looks youthful. Gone, the professional make up, the expensive jewellery, and hair darkened by the dampness from her shower. You take in a large choked breath. “We need to talk.” you let out. Fear takes over her features and she starts to shake her head. “No, Mi Conejito please no, don’t do this.” she wails. It is a heart wrenching sound. She thinks she's going to be sick. “Woah, woah, woah” you place your hands on her cheeks and pull her panicked eyes to yours; “Mi amor I am not breaking up with you.” you state, clearly. “I am not. Now breathe with me.” Her eyes steady from their darting around the room in fear, and you place your hand on her chest, making her breathe with you. “Okay, okay… okay. Yes, please. Talk to me.” she begs, trying to get oxygen back into her lungs. “I feel alone. I feel… sa…sad. A lot of the time. And I know… you y…you aren’t doing it on pur…purpose.” Your girlfriend looks heartbroken. Like she had just found out her entire family had died. But refuses to interrupt you as you speak. But you have needed this conversation for so long, that the words start to tumble out of you. Getting lodged in your throat. Har large hand comes up to that familiar place, and massages the soft tissue behind your jaw. Trying to help you without interrupting. “You aren’t doing it on purpose.” you repeat. She pauses for a moment and doesn't ask what you thought she would. “Why am I making you anxious?” she asks, cutting through your thoughts. You move away from her and settle your elbows to your knees. Rubbing your face as you feel a large hand settle onto your back. You hated your stutter. You hated that it ruled your life, but most of all you hated how it exposed you. You were like a child who can’t hide a blush in front of their crush. “You aren’t, Alexia.” “Alex.” she corrects, “I am Alex to you” she insists, “your Alex. It’s just me, mi amor.” she looks at you desperately. “I feel alone, you are never here, and when you are here physically, you aren’t here in your head. Your head is in the clouds, it is with your agent, with your coach, it is not with me.” you’ve started now, so you won’t be able to stop yourself “it is me and Pabs and, even though you're dumb as bricks bebe, you're a better conversationalist than him” you try to joke, a half smile on your face. Which she matches, hand not stopping her ministrations on your back.

“I cannot remember the last time we just sat together, the last time that we cooked together. Can you Alex?” you don’t receive a reply,

“I haven’t had your eyes, look at me, really look at me for months. You give your time so easily to those around you, your team mates, people I see you out with at events. I can’t blame you, this is what you always dreamed of. But… I miss you.” Your speech is strong now; “and I love you. That will never change. But you need to know how I am feeling. So it's fair to you. I feel as though you are bigger than the world. And I am just the girl you saved in the art room.” She is openly crying now. “Don’t say that, you are everything” she mumbled, through tears.

She knew that she had been busy. But she didn’t realise the damage that she had done. She had been to events, you had been at her side. But. When was the last time she asked about a wedding you’d worked? God, you used to sit for hours describing the beautiful scenes, and she’d store away ideas for your own wedding. The last gallery you had shown at? When had she last visited your mami and papi, who had been there for her her entire life? She kept you off social media for your protection, but she didn’t mean to erase you. When had she become so god damn selfish. “Amor, I think that somewhere along the way, I had forgotten, and forgotten to remind you. There are more important things than football. Well. Football is second”.

You are thrown back to a memory, a school championship 15 years ago, sat on the bleachers watching your school get destroyed. The lanky football captain sat by your side. You can’t help it but tears fill your eyes. You missed her. That girl. The one you were and the one she was. “But.. you told me once, that I could have both.” she whispered, into your neck, “and you can, Alex. Of course you can. But you have to want both. And at the moment. It feels. It feels like you don’t want me.” “No! Mi Amor, Mi Vida, Mi Conejito. You are everything. Eres mi mundo. I am nothing without you.” she takes a breath, deep and shuddering. “I will fix this. Thank you for telling me how you feel. I have a chance to fix this. Si?” she asks, desperately. You nod, “Of course Alex, and it's for both of us to fix, I should have said something sooner.” She refuses your admittance of guilt and drags you into bed. She sticks to you like a second skin. Moves with you to brush your teeth. Standing waiting whilst you use the toilet. She places a fresh glass of water on your bedside table.You want to tell her to give you a bit of space, but the fear in her eyes prevents you from doing so. As soon as you crawl into your side of the bed she has pulled you into her embrace and the warmth that fills you goes beyond the shared body heat. For the first time in a long time, you wake up in the strong arms of Alexia. She hasn’t moved in the night an inch, and you take a moment to take her in. This is what you missed. Just breathing the same air as her. Just existing in the same space. As though she can feel you looking at her she begins to stir. Taking a moment to come to her senses, her arms grip you tighter around your waist. “Hola, Mi amor” she whispers into the air. Your response is a kiss to her lips, which she steals, hungrily. As you deepen the kiss you feel her begin to pull away. “Lo siento, mi amor, we cannot get carried away. Things to do.” your heart hurts again. You roll off the taller girl and reach for your phone as a distraction.

You thought, maybe, just maybe, for today at least. You would spend the day together. “Things to do!” she repeats, jumping out of bed with glee. “Where’s your passport”. That grabs your attention. “Que?” you ask, confusingly. “Your passport amor, Vamos!” She had long ago left the bed, and had started moving around the room, picking up various bags which had definitely not been there when you went to bed and moving them into the hallway. She was like a ball of energy, she stripped off her oversized t-shirt she had worn to bed, leaving her standing in just her boxers. Your eyes widened at the sight. Well, you think, at least all the time not spent with you was doing something good. You find yourself in a trance, practically salivating at your view.

A change of clothes being thrown at your head brings you out of your stupor. “Dressed. Go.” Alexia teases you, definitely having caught you starting. This makes you finally start to move as you shrug on the jogging bottoms and hoodie she threw at you. Happily, you note, it's one of hers that you’ve already destroyed with paint marks on the cuffs. “Why do you need my passport Alex? What's with the bags?” “We’re going on vacation!” That stops you, half in, and half out of your hoodie. Getting yourself stuck. “Vacation?” you ask, voice muffled by the fabric. You hear Alexia make her way over to you, then feel her gently pull you free from your fabric prison. “Si…” she gently tells you. A look overcomes her face which you can’t distinguish, then she kisses your nose, softly. “Vacation. Just me and you amor.”

“But what about work?” you ask, still catching up. “You don’t have anything booked for 6 days, I checked your calendar. And where we are going, you can bring all your art things if you need them. I’ve packed the basics in my carry-on already.” “Not my work. Alex, your work. You have a busy week.” at this point you seem to have lost her attention as she turns to your question dismissively. “I cancelled it.” she replies, simply. “You cancelled it.” you repeat. “Si.” “Alexia! Have you lost your mind! You have training, you have that meeting with Oakley - you have the pre-euros media to do! You have a game in 3 days” you reel off her calendar, watching as she continues to dress and pack her toiletries. She heaves out a sigh and turns back to you.

“Conejito, I know what I had, you don’t need to tell me I have just spent all night cancelling all of them. I spoke to Jona and he’s happy for me to miss the game. The rest of it doesn’t matter.” she moves closer to you again, “So no, I have not lost my mind. But, I did almost lose you, so please. Please tell me where your passport is so we can get on the plane I booked. Mapi will be here in a moment to take Pabs for the week.” You find yourself standing there, stunned. She seemingly had thought of everything. You look into the hall at the bags packed there ready to go. Pabs sniffed them curiously. She’s looking at you with wide, expecting eyes. There's nothing else for you to do you suppose. As you turn from her and open your bedside table, a smile can’t be kept off your face, you turn triumphantly with your passport held high. “Voila!” you present it to her; “What are you waiting for then Alex! We've got a plane to catch!” as you scurry out of the room and you hear the front door knock. Alexias cackle behind you. Alexia was always full of surprises when she wanted to be and she remained tight lipped all the way to the airport, refusing to tell you your destination.

You assumed it would be one of the islands somewhere, with the size of her luggage maybe somewhere farther afield, sun, sea and a pool somewhere promised. But she shocked you. When you got to the check in desk and realised you were flying to Switzerland you could have been knocked down with a feather. Your Alex, who was upset when she even had to wear a bikini top in the month of August, has booked for you to go to Switzerland?

She ignored your curious stare and just continued to sweet talk the check in lady, upgrading you to business class. As you descended hours later, between the snow peaked mountains against a stunning orange sun you couldn't believe what you were seeing. Your hands itched to claim the sketch book from Alexias carry on. Soon, after collecting your luggage and Alexia picking up a hire car that has also been pre booked (seriously did this girl sleep at all the night before?), you found yourself being driven through a mountain forest, as a lodge that seemed to cling to the mountainside came into view, isolated and beautiful. You stood on the wooden balcony, hands gripping a warm drink as you took in the view of the sun setting behind the mountains. “Look at that, Amor.” you felt, more than heard, whispered against your ear. Lips planting a kiss at your jaw as strong hands settle over your stomach.

You fell back into her embrace. “It’s so beautiful.” you replied, eyes focused on the scene before you. “I saw this advert. Months ago.” she continued. “Just in the back of a catalogue at work. They will have the Euros near here, you know, 2025?” That made you snort with laughter. “Ah, I see Putellas, now it makes sense how you’ve been dragged from the beach, scoping out the environment are we? Anything for that competitive edge.” your teasing is clear in your voice.

You feel a pinch on your stomach, “No, idiota,” though the laugh is clear in her voice. “I saw that advert and I couldn’t get it out of my head. It is so beautiful here.” you hum in agreement, “But what I could not get out of my head was that I wanted you to see it. I love seeing the world through your eyes.”

She turns you in her embrace and she places a gentle kiss to your forehead as you feel her breathe you in. “You see things so beautifully, Amor, and then you paint them for the world to see. You are so special.” Your heart melts at the blonde, and you feel some of the despair that had settled into your stomach over the last months shrink. Here Alexia was, at work, flicking through some promotional material between interviews and training, and her thoughts are with you. “And I will not let you forget how special you are, ever. Never again”. You spent those days in pure bliss. You spend the days hiking - her pretending to be as tired as you at the peak of a mountain, she was a terrible actress but you appreciate the sentiment non the less - having picnics, exploring the mountain villages, and on one particularly spicy day, skinny dipping in an isolated mountain lake that a swiss teammate had told Alexia about. Evenings were spent looking up at the stars together, you firmly in alexias lap on the balcony, sharing a glass of wine which you held. She pointed out stars that her Papa had shown her and given silly names to, and you were there to catch her tears. She would complain only minimally that she was cold, and you would offer to warm her up and she would lead you gently into the bedroom. Nights spent in each other's embrace, sighs shared and no alarms to wake you. You would dance around the kitchen, play cards at the table, share wine and stories and just catch up.

The pit in your stomach mended with each kiss, each peel of laughter and each stroke of the skin.

One evening, after the skinny dipping adventure in which the footballer insisted that she must have hypothermia and had taken herself off over an hour ago telling you she wasn’t coming out of the warm shower until she had become a prune. You had started to add the finishing touches to a sketch of the scene beyond your lodges window when you felt the blonde return into the room, You eyed her quickly, flannel tartan pyjamas covering her tall frame, hanging over her wrists, matching shorts which are despicably short. Fuzzy socks on her feet. She looked absolutely adorable.

You didn’t know why she was staring at you though, She moved towards you and you made space for her on the couch. “You have your glasses on, Conejita.” she mumbled, and you reached up, as though to confirm they were on your face, “I didn’t know you still wore them.” You didn’t, too be honest, but with the long day of fresh air and a strong sun on the mountainside your eyes had grown tired. You shrugged at her, as she placed a soft kiss on your lips. Lovesick look in her eyes. “You’re so hot.” She mumbled, more to herself. You hear though, and the blush runs up your neck.

You moved to get your work off your lap but she stopped you, pulling you back into her embrace and you automatically moved your knees up to rest your sketchbook there. “Carry on, please.” her chin rested on your shoulder. You hesitated, you didn’t come all this way to not spend time with the blonde, you wanted to soak in every minute. You wouldn’t be happy if she started to kick a ball around in the kitchen. She could sense your hesitation, “please. Remember, I like the sound of your pencil.” she moves your free hand to her bare thigh, “and it gives me goosebumps.” You fell in love again over those 6 days. You never fell out of it. But maybe you both just needed reminding. You felt whole, your communication about how you were feeling had worked, Alexia had listened. You just had one worry though, as the plane landed back in Barna you couldn’t hold it in. “Alex.” you said, before the seatbelt sign came on, gripping her arm lightly. “This was the best trip of my life. Thank you.” Her smile cracked her face, and she looked immensely proud of herself. “Mine too, Amor.” she agreed, easily, her face was peaceful . “But. I can’t go back to how things were again, si? I don’t think I could survive it, not after this week.” she's already shaking her head. “It won’t, I promise. I will not let that happen. Me and you, Si? That is all that is important” you take a moment, “And Pabs.” you amend for her, breaking the tension. “Si, of course” she rolls her eyes, “and Pablo Petcatso.”

When somebody loved me Everything was beautiful Every hour we spent together Lives within my heart When she loved me

“Hey, Al?” you shout, into the living room as you enter your flat. It's been a few weeks since you returned from your impromptu get away. A busy few weeks. You have been booked up and Alex had to make up for the time she had lost, Barca were still in 4 competitions so the match load was heavy. You could see she was trying though, so that made the darkness that had started to creep back in more bearable. She wasn’t home from training yet. Which disappointed you more than usual. You were giddy.

You had just found out that your art had been selected to be shown at a huge gallery opening in the centre of the city. An established and high-end gallery. It was a big deal, and it was potentially your big break. You got flutters in your stomach even thinking about the commissions it could make you. Pabs popped his head around the door and you picked him up giddily and span him around, his meow in response you took as a congratulations as you danced and laughed. You didn’t hear the door behind you open but you heard your favourite voice in the world, “And what have I walked into here, hey, a party with my favourite two? Without me?” Alexia laughed. “Alex, we're celebrating!” you let Pabs free from your grip as he scurried away from his crazy mama. Her arms loop around you as you move into a slow dance, grinning up at her; “Ah, Si? And what are we celebrating?” “I got chosen! For the gallery!” Your feet leave the floor as the taller girl fully brings you into her arms, lifting you and spinning you around in glee, the squeal she lets out is full of childlike joy. “Of course you did! You are amazing!” she plops you back down and attacks your face with kisses. “I’m so proud of you Mi Amor and I am so excited to see your gallery. Oh I can get all dressed up and be your arm piece!” The thought brings you pure joy, the image of Alexia standing by your side, proudly, champagne in hand. Your Mami and Papi and Eli and Alba all present. Pabs in a little bow tie. “Si?” you ask, shyly, much more used to being by her side, “You’ll come? It is in 4 weeks. The 16th. You should be just starting on break.” A shadow of sadness passes her face at your insecurity, “Amor even if I was not on break I would not miss this for the world. If I had the world cup final I would call in sick. I will be there. I will be the girl with the biggest bouquet of flowers in all of Barna with the lovesick look on her face.” It had been a whirlwind of a month, you had to put the finishing touches on your pieces.

You have chosen to showcase your best landscapes.

Scenes from the road to Valencia, The Square in Mollett, Beach Scenes in Barca, Snow capped mountains of Switzerland.

It was the story of your love for Alexia. Told through scenes only the two of you could understand the significance of.

In the week leading up to the opening, you would spend late nights at the gallery, setting up lighting with Mapi and your Papi. Eli would walk around straightening frames on the walls. As you settled into bed each night, Alexia would open her arms and bring you into her warn embrace.

You couldn’t wait to share your love story with the world. Alexia was having a bad day. It started bad. And continued to be bad. First, she woke up alone, which she hated.

She recalled a kiss to the forehead and a whispered ‘I'll see you later’ before she'd dozed back off. Then she realised that she had forgotten to charge her phone and was therefore late to training. Well. Not late for normal people. But late for Alexia. Then she forgot her socks and had to steal some of Irenes. She had a bad training session and Patri beat her in all their 1v1’s. And then the icing on the cake. She was dragged out from her gym session to do media which she hated. By the time she had finished the changing rooms were mostly empty, with only Pina and Patri left, scheming together in a corner.

“Ah now, Capi! Turn that frown upside down!” Pina teased her, “Ay, come out for a drink with me and Patri, the girls are all coming later, a bonding session before the break!”

And Alexia would usually say no, she wasn’t one for massive social events. But a drink sounded good. And it was the last day of training before the break.

Which is how she found herself 4 drinks in, deep in a booth in Patris favourite bar downtown. Most of the girls had joined them and laughter and chatter filled the roped off space. Something was missing and it took Alexia a moment to realise that there wasn’t a yapping in her ear.

“Ay, Pina, where are Mapi and Ingrid?”

“They text the group, they had something on but they’re going to join us after. Ah… here they are!” Pina turned as Patri dragged her to the dance floor. Alexia turned to where Pina had pointed and saw Ingrid and Mapi walking towards her. She smiled and raised her hand in a wave, as they got closer she took in their state of dress; “Ay, sexy mamas, it’s only a night out with the team. Why are you dressed so nice? Have you just come from your wedding?” Mapi looked at Alexia. But really, really looked at her. “What?” nothing. “Maria, what? Why are you looking at me like that? Ingrid?” she faced the usually kind woman but she wasn’t met with her usual smile, “What’s happening? Wh-ohmygod.” It hit Alexia like a freight train. Like 10 freight trains. She physically had to hold onto the chair to her side to remain standing. “No, no, no, I didn’t, I couldn’t have done.” She starts to pat herself down and pulls her phone out, dead, still uncharged from the night before. She holds it up to Mapi, as evidence, evidence of what she doesn’t know. As though it gives her a lifeline. She knows it doesn’t. “Ingrid? Ingrid please tell me I didn’t miss it.” she asks, desperately. The tall girl looks away, as though she can’t even face what the captain had done. “Alexia.” The rage is barely contained in Mapis' voice. “I can’t even look at you.” Mapi turns to leave, but it's as though her anger wont let her; she turns again and spits out; “Do you think she needed a reminder on her phone to know when the Champions League final was? Do you think… I can’t… I have just come from her gallery opening. Her life's work. A life shared with you. And here you are. At a bar. Celebrating, what? A game of football? A half season well done? Fuck off. Seriously. Fuck. Off” Ingrid grips her hand and tries to pull her away. All Alexia can do is stand there and take it, it's not a hundredth of what she deserves. “No Ingrid.” She pulls her hand free and pushes her finger into Alexia's chest. “You are a selfish monster. She thought you must be hurt. That's what she thought. She thought you were in a ditch somewhere. She almost cancelled the whole thing to run around hospitals to find you. But then Alba saw you on Patris instagram. And here you are. La Reina.” Mapi looks her up and down, pure disgust on her face. “Your Mamis held her as she sobbed. Alba redid her makeup. I would steer clear of her Papi for months if I were you. She is strong, and she gave a speech.” Alexia couldn’t breathe. You gave a speech? She wasn’t there. She wasn’t there. “Please, Maria, stop. I can’t listen.” Alexia couldn’t take it. She moved Mapis' hand off her chest and ran to the door of the club. One thought in her mind. Get to you. Get to you. “It's too late Alexia.” Mapi shouts to her back. She ignores her. It can’t be. No It can't be. She jumps out of the uber onto the unfamiliar street. The lights to the gallery are off but she desperately tries the door regardless. Banging on it with her fist in frustration. She lets out a scream into the empty street. Peering through the windows she sees wall after wall of your work. Scenes she recognises from her life. Football pitches. Beaches, Mountains. The scene from your balcony in Mollet. It was all so beautiful. So carefully curated. And she wasn’t there. She takes off at a run. It’s not too late. Mapi is wrong. It’s not too late. She will die if it is too late. “Y/N!” she barged into the apartment. She must have ran 10 miles. “Y/N are you here?” She runs from room to room. But there is no one there. When that's established she plugs her phone into the charger on the breakfast bar and makes her way back through the apartment. She goes into the bedroom. No, please no. The wardrobe is open, your side is empty. She looks around. Your things are gone.

The kitchen remains largely unaffected. Though the picture of you and your parents no longer sits on the shelf. Your trainers are gone from the hall. Your favourite blanket from the couch. She looks at the walls. Anything you had painted. Gone. Alexia always insisted that your art be on the walls, in each home you shared together. “Why would I want strangers work on the walls, Mi Amor? When I have the best artist in the world here?” she would say, making you blush. She was addicted to that blush. She walks back into the hallway. One picture remains in pride of place. The picture you presented to her in her darkest moment. You would never take that away from her. It was a gift of pure adoration. All it does is make the stabbing pain in Alexia's heart worsen. She pushes open the door to your art studio. All that remains are paints and blank canvases. Except. In the middle of the room. The easel. A picture she had seen before, in its early stages. A hand. A hand holding a beautiful flower. But it had changed somehow. Pressure lines had appeared. The flower beginning to wilt under the force. It wasn’t your usual work. Alexia stood closer. Entranced. As she inspected the image she saw the light tease off still wet paint. You had touched this up recently. Her eyes search, frantically for anything of your last moments in the apartment when she catches it. Too light for anyone not searching for it. 11. Blended into skin at the wrist of the image. A tattoo. So lightly painted but it etched itself fiercely into Alexia's soul. This was her hand. This hand that was silently destructive, was hers. She saw a post it note stuck to the leg of the easel and in your looping handwriting: ‘Love is giving someone the power to destroy you and trusting that they won't use it.’

She brought her hand up to her mouth and let out an audible gasp. She runs into the kitchen and dry heaves over the sink. There, she watches as her tears splash into the marble. And as she watches. She takes note of a single paint droplet. Her tears joined it, creating the most heart crushing piece of work she had ever seen.

God. She used to get so angry at that paint in the sink.

It's been years, she thought, years since she found paint in the sink. How much did you have to lessen yourself in order to be with her?

She collapsed into a seated position. Back against the kitchen cabinet. And brought her knees to her chest. She sobbed. And sobbed. She was joined at one point by Pabs. She thought you’d taken him with you. But no, in a typical act of kindness you wouldn’t leave her alone in her despair.

His little bow tie still sat around his neck, skew-whiff, as he looked at his mama curiously. He licked her nose and she sobbed harder.

Weeks passed.

She doesn’t know how she got through those weeks. Thousands of missed calls. Hundreds of messages. Went unanswered.

Alexia didn’t hear from you. Her Mami and Alba had forgiven her after Alba had found her in a state and unable to look after herself but they made it clear they were on your side. Mapi wouldnt look at her. They wouldn't tell her where you were, they wouldn’t pass on any message.

She was too frightened to go to your Mami and Papa.

She hadn’t trained well for weeks, She arrived at training exhausted. Sleep would never find her. She was barely clinging on. Jona still insisted she play. She was La Reina.

And then she broke. And that's where Irene found her, after another match of lacklustre performance. In a back corridor of the stadium. Broken and staring at the wall in front of her.

A ghost of the woman she was.

Her phone lay next to her. A message from you. A response to her apologies, her thoughts, the pain she had told you she felt for your failed relationship.

Finally, Word you were alive.

3 words in fact. “It’ll pass Alexia.”

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #woso community

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bked0n-lorazepam · 5 months ago

Text

"Sweltering"

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Summary (Smut): Y/N and Patrick are placed as partners on their senior camp trip for Derry high-school. Regrets are thought after Patrick convinced her to place their tent further away from the others, and when their fans die in the middle of the night in the awful Derry heat.

Warnings: Vulgar language, dubious consent, fingering, cunnilingus, nipple play, camping, in a tent. Patrick and Reader are 18 and seniors!

A/N: Sorry guys, motivation kind of went out the window for my WIP's and I can't think when I try to write them, so here's this apology while I wait for my writer's block to end!

Smut under the cut!!

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It was dark out, and hot. The Derry highschool had a camp field trip that only the seniors could go on as a ‘going away’ event for their graduation. Y/N and Patrick were partnered together, much to each other’s distaste.

There was an odd amount of people on the trip, and when Y/N was told that the other student was going to join her group of three and that she’d have to be with Patrick, she groaned.

–

“Do I have to? What have I done to deserve this?” She begged her councilor to change the groups.

“Ms. L/N, you’re the perfect student, and he isn’t. We’re hoping that maybe while on this trip, you can influence him in some kind of way. Please, you can still hang out with your past group, you just need to stick with him as well.” Her councilor begged her back, hope shining in his eyes.

All the teachers at the highschool knew that Patrick wasn’t the greatest student, so they always paired her and him together when they could. Projects and presentations, hell, they even made her his tutor. She hated how much time out of her life he took up, and he hated how much of his she took up.

“Fucking, fine. Whatever.” Y/N sighed dramatically and walked away to talk to her friends.

She heard a faint ‘language’ from her councilor before getting pulled aside and directed the other way.

“So, we’re buddies again. Huh, toots?” Patrick grinned and put his hand on her waist while walking her towards their assigned bus.

“Guess so,” Y/N rolled her eyes at the nickname he gave her when they met, and pulled his hand that was slowly moving to her ass off of her. “Don’t fuck this trip up.”

“I’ll think about it.”

–

Patrick did not, in fact, think about it.

He somehow convinced her to set up their tent further away from the others, and the fans that they were given on the bus had died. They were both sweating and kicked off their blankets, and now they laid on their sleeping bags.

“I hate you.” Y/N panted, using the safety folder as a fan. She was wearing a dark green tank top and sweatpants on, and she was sweltering.

“Mutual feelings.” Patrick responded, laying on his back with his arms behind his head. He took his shirt off and was wearing his black boxers, even though Y/N complained about him taking off his pants.

She knew she couldn’t say much, though, having taken off her bra earlier in the night because of how uncomfortable it was. She also knew that he was staring at her breasts half the time, but she didn’t bring it up. He’d do it if she had a sweater on, too.

Y/N stopped fanning herself for a moment and stared at the wall of the tent in front of her, and Patrick looked over at her.

“What?”

“Don’t get any ideas.” She set down the folder and stood up as he stared at her, watching her every movement.

She glanced at him and caught his eyes before looking away quickly and reaching her fingers into her waistband. Pulling off her pants, she stood there in her black lace panties, bare to Patrick’s eyes.

“Thought you were gonna get some?” Patrick snickered at her fancy underwear as she sat down and scoffed.

“Yeah, from Taylor.” She smiled sarcastically and fanned herself with the folder again, sighing in relief at the difference her lack of clothing made.

She’ll admit, she was hoping that she’d end up getting a tent with Taylor because she thought he was hot, but now she was stuck with Patrick. Who was kind of attractive.

But also really attractive.

Patrick hummed and watched her again before a large grin grew on his face. He sat up from his sleeping bag and crawled over to her when she closed her eyes, and he covered her mouth with his hand when she yelped in surprise.

“Patrick, what the fuck!” She hissed quietly to not wake the other campers.

“Shut up and enjoy this.” He sneered and slid his hands up and down her body.

Y/N gasped and grabbed his shoulders when his hands cupped her breasts and played with her nipples. She’d had sex before, but they were all asses who never thought of foreplay, so naturally, she was sensitive.

He smiled at her reactions and continued to pinch them, leaning in to kiss her neck when she threw her head back and moaned. He kissed and nipped all over her neck, leaving bruises wherever his lips touched.

She bucked her hips up into his when he found her sweet spot, and she wrapped her fingers in his hair while he sucked at it.

“Patrick, stop. We shouldn’t be doing this.” Y/N panted heavily. She didn’t want him to stop at all, but she held onto a small sense of her dignity.

They shouldn’t be doing this with the other students just a couple yards away from them, but she also knew that Patrick didn’t care.

All he did was move further down her neck and kiss her collarbone before lifting her shirt over her breasts and attaching his lips to them.

She moaned, loudly, and reached a hand up to cover her mouth. Patrick laughed and sucked all over her smooth skin, his hands now moving down her hips, to the waistband of her underwear.

“Fuck, stop. We can’t do this.” Even though her brain said one thing, her body said another. She didn’t do anything to stop him, other than tell him to.

She knew he wouldn’t listen, though, so she didn’t know why she was even trying.

His hands ghosted over her underwear to the inside of her thighs, and he rubbed the soft flesh. He pinched her and she whined, him smiling once again.

Patrick slowly moved his hand up to where she wanted him most, and he ran a finger up her groin as she thrusted her hips towards it.

“Patrick, please.” Y/N didn’t even know what she was begging for, at this point. Whether he stopped or didn’t, it didn’t matter to her anymore. She just wanted to keep feeling good.

His fingers moved her underwear to the side and he ran a finger through her folds once again, detaching himself from her nipple.

He stared her in the eyes and brought the finger to his lips, sucking off the mess she left on them.

“Patrick, please!”

His fingers moved skillfully and he kissed her, his middle finger plunging into her entrance all the way to his knuckle. She moaned loudly once again, but this time his mouth caught it. He stretched her out, and when he thought she was ready, he put his index finger in with it.

Y/N moved her hips with his fingers, trying to match the speed he was going at. It didn’t help that he was purposely messing up his rhythm so that she couldn’t, and he grinned when she sobbed into his mouth.

“Please, Patrick,” She whimpered, “‘M so close!”

He placed his thumb on her clit and rubbed it in a circular motion, reattaching himself to her nipple. “Go ahead.”

She cried out and clenched around his fingers, her hips finally being able to match his speed and rhythm. He let her ride out her high before he took his fingers away and moved down, licking up what was left on his fingers and her cunt.

When he was done, he sucked at her clit harshly, and she cursed out and tugged his hair away from her.

He sat up and wiped away what was on his chin, sucked at her sternum until he left a hickey, and pulled her shirt down.

Patrick palmed at his boxers and then kissed her before rolling over next to her, reassuming his position with his arm behind his head.

“When I wake up, I expect to see you with my dick down your throat.” He told her, closing his eyes and getting comfortable.

“Yeah. M’kay, I guess.”

#x reader #fem reader #patrick hocksetter x reader #patrick hockstetter #pennywise #stephen king #it #patrick hockstetter smut #patrick hockstetter x reader smut #smut #camping #tent sex #tent camping #dubious consent

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eetherealgoddess · 9 months ago

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Hihi

Could you do a fic where reader is like a driver 4 bonten and something comes up so she has to like pick (u cld do all or chose one it doesn't matter) them up then some smut, noncon and fem reader.

Thx in advance if you'll write this, I've been searching for a writer that does noncon🥲

Hope you enjoy this! Also hope you don’t mind about a little mxm between the men in it! Also dark ending!!

Also I’m thinking of making an au where the guys are poly with each other and the reader is added to it or walks in on it or something idk yet but lmk in the comments or requests what you think about that.

ꨄBonten’s Propertyꨄ

Part Two

Oneshot - Yandere Bonten Au

❦You pick up your boss and fellow executives from the club❦

Sano Manjiro, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, & Haitani Brothers x Reader

Not fully proofread

MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR, AO3, AND WATTPAD UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!

I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

Bonten’s Property

“Why do I have to pick them up from the club?” You whine, giving Kokonoi a disturbed look as you stare at his sitting figure, focusing on the laptop in front of him.

“You were specifically requested tonight.” He continues to type as you roll your eyes.

“Yeah, but not by our boss. All the guys are gonna do is terrorize me while I’m trying to drive.” You cross your arms as you rest on one leg, hip poking out as you shake your head.

“Boss is with them currently so I assume he relayed the message.” You groan. “You better get going so you don’t anger him.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know Koko.” You finally walk away, snatching the keys as you make your way out of the shared penthouse, heading to the car and unlocking the door before hopping in.

You’re not usually one to pick up the men from the club considering how wild they get, usually only Kakucho or Takeomi could handle the ride, though when you do, you’re usually efficient. Even when Sanzu messes with the wheel or Kazutora tickles your neck to distract you. Even when Ran blows smoke in your face or when Rin pours alcohol on you. Mikey’s not with them usually, so you have no idea how that’s going to be, hopefully he stays a little professional considering you’ve never seen him drunk or high.

Worse comes to worse you can use the partition to divide the front seats from the back which is what you’ve done before. Still, who wants to drive a bunch of drunk or high idiots around? Hopefully they’re not too rowdy, they’ve never been bad enough to prevent you from driving all of you home at a good time. You sigh as you pull up in front of the large club, nodding at the security guard to signal your arrival for Bonten. He nods back before walking into the doors.

You scroll on your phone, waiting for what felt like an hour before you heard the car’s doors opening. Laughter and slurred speech could be heard as the men entered the car, your body tensing into professionalism when you see your boss through the rearview mirror enter, tightening your grip on the wheel. Sanzu sits in the passenger seat with a pink face, eyeing you before smirking. You ignore him as you double check that everyone is situated before driving off.

You ignore their conversations, Kazutora, Sanzu, and the Haitani brothers conversing about the women, drugs, and alcohol all the while Mikey eyes the window a dazed look on his expression as well as a warm face. One of your eyebrows raise as you find humor in your boss's look, unknown to whether he was high or drunk though definitely not sober. You continue the drive peacefully in your own zone as you eye the dark road.

“Y/n, why didn’t you come to party?” Kazutora questions with a smile.

“I don’t ‘party’ like you guys.”

“I think we should’ve hired you as a stripper rather than an executive.” Ran says, his eyes slightly narrowing as he smirks in your direction.

“Yeah, I would’ve paid to see you on stage any day.” Rin adds as he eyes your expression from the side.

Of course, you made a mistake in thinking that they might not fuck with you during this ride considering their boss is here. You ignore their remarks as you continue to drive. Your grip clenches around the wheel once more when you feel a poke against your side.

“Heyy! You’re being spoken to.” Sanzu says as he glares at you.

“Yeah don’t ignore us!” Kazutora whines playfully, poking you until you flinch, using one of your hands to swatt him away. You grit your teeth as you feel a cold liquid running down your thigh, glancing over to see Rin pouring his bottle once more as he chuckles and Ran smiles wider, finding humor in torturing you.

“Goddamnit!” You hiss as you snatch the open bottle and throw it out of the window.

“Awe you’re no fun.” Rin frowns, leaning back into his seat with crossed arms. Ran passes the recently lit blunt you hadn’t even noticed to Sanzu who breathed in a huge wad of smoke just to blow it in your face, slightly blocking your vision as you wave it away.

You continue to ignore them considering what they want is a response, so you drive down the road. You don’t notice the way your boss eyes the situation with amusement as well as staring at you through the mirror, warmth from the drug Sanzu gave him invading all of his senses as his face turns darker, heavy eyes shifting around the car.

“Want some, boss?” Kazutora questions Mikey, handing him the blunt as he takes it from him, breathing in a huge hit before blowing it out slowly. They all praise their boss as he relaxes in his seat. You slightly chuckle before focusing your attention back on the road. You just couldn’t help but find humor in your boss’s laid back behavior for once.

“Here.” He leans over to hand it to you, though you only glance at the flower.

“Oh boss, you can keep it, I don’t smoke.” Honestly, you’re lying because you like smoking. You just don’t want to be high around them or behind the wheel.

“Take it.”

“I can’t smoke behind the wheel.” You say sheepishly.

“Pull over.” Your eyes widen. What the hell?

“B-boss, that’s not necessary.”

“Are you defying the King?” Sanzu growls, narrowing his eyes.

“What? N-no, I just…”

“Then why aren’t you listening?” Kazutora questions.

“Boss clearly gave you an order.” Rin says as his brother eyes you.

All of this over a fucking blunt? What's gotten into them?

“Boss, I’m not disrespecting you, I just thought you wanted to get home! I can smoke in the penthouse if anything.”

“Pull over, now.” You didn’t hesitate to find an empty spot to pull over in, parking the car once you reached it with a shaky hand.

This is so weird.

You take the blunt from Mikey’s hand and put it to your lips, inhaling a little before blowing out.

“More.” You look at your boss from the rearview mirror with confusion.

“I still have to drive, I don’t think I should smoke…”

The barrel of a gun to your head causes you to quiet down, eyeing Sanzu who’s holding the weapon.

“What was that?” Ran teases. “Could you repeat what you just said?”

You glare at them before setting it back to your lips, inhaling deeply before you blow out a huge cloud of smoke, tears forming in your eyes as the burning sensation overtakes your throat.

I don’t understand why they’re making such a big deal out of this.

“Since you can’t drive you should sit in the back seat.” Kazutora says with a fake concerned expression.

“I was ordered to be the driver so I’ll be okay. None of you can drive, anyway.”

“No, it’s alright. Come here.” Following your boss’s order, you reluctantly open the door, hopping out of the driver's seat before opening the back door, blunt still in hand.

You couldn’t help but feel embarrassment as you climb in, feeling the intense gazes as you settle into your seat squished in between Mikey and Kazutora who don’t bother to move over, the Haitani brothers having already shifted to the empty seats across from you as well as Sanzu who sits beside the siblings, gun hidden. You squirm awkwardly into your seat as you inhale the leaf once more. Holding the smoke in as a hand on your chin forces you to turn to your right.

“Blow into my mouth.” You try to move your head from Kazutora’s hand, the burning sensation catching up to you, forcing you to blow in his direction, his mouth slightly open as he sucks in the air, his lips barely grazing yours.

This is definitely too intimate. What drugs did they take because marijuana doesn’t do this.

The air feels suffocating as warmth builds, gazes becoming heated as your eyebrows furrow. Suddenly, the hand on your chin moves to the back of your head as your lips are forced to meet with Kazutora’s. Your eyes widen as your hands immediately push against his chest, his hold stronger as he keeps you in place, golden eyes staring into your orbs. Biting his lip only caused a moan from him as he leaned into you, the metallic taste mixing in with mary jane and alcohol.

When he finally releases you, because you were still shoving away from him, you accidentally land on your boss’s chest. Immediate fear causes you to sit up, though you were stopped by arms wrapping around your waist, your head resting against his shoulder, positioned in between the leg that's propped on the seat and the other one on the ground as he leans against the door. Kazutora grabs the blunt from you as he takes a hit from it.

“B-boss?” You question as his hands slowly roam up your blouse, your face heated as the warmth of his hands rests on your breasts that are covered by your bra. “W-wait! Mi- boss! Stop!”

“Are you telling me what to do?” His breath causes tingles down your neck as his lips meet your ear.

“Two times in a row, not a good look for you, Y/n.” Ran says, ignoring his erection under his pants.

“Wait, I just need some air or something! I need to be okay to drive!” Your chest rises and falls as Mikey squeezes your breasts, your hands grabbing his wrists to pull them off though his strength is firm, even when intoxicated.

“You’re not being a very good executive, Y/n. So disobedient.” Rin taunts before he grabs one of your ankles, removing your shoe as well as Kazutora doing the same with your other after handing Ran the wood. You attempt to pull your legs back, forgetting how you are the weakest amongst these men. Sanzu moves to the floor board next to the upper half of your body as Ran moves to the lower, unbuckling your pants as you struggle against Mikey’s hold, blunt in his lips.

“Y-yeah I’m telling all of you to stop! This isn’t profession-!” You’re cut off by Sanzu’s lips, his hand cupping your face as Mikey’s tongue slithers against your ear. Saliva falls down your chin as your hand reaches to push against Sanzu’s chest while the Haitani brothers and Kazutora pull down your pants, revealing your panties. Your eyes become wider as you start kicking your legs, whimpering against Sanzu’s mouth as you try to break free only for Kazutora and Rin to hold your legs apart as Ran uses a finger to trail down your slit through the fabric before he hands the leaf to his brother.

One of Sanzu’s hands pulls your blouse over your chest before he moves back to pull it off, Mikey helping in the process as he holds your arms still.

“Guys! You’re too intoxicated! St-stop, now!”

Rin’s lips trail down your leg, rubbing your thigh in the process while the blunt lies in between his index and middle finger. Kazutora mimics, though removing your sock before he licks your foot, a tingling sensation going up your spine.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long.” Mikey whispers against your ear, unclipping your bra before he forces it off of you, of course you make it harder by preventing the handles from being removed from your arms. He tears them, throwing your bra to the side as one of his arms circle around your waist while the other hand reaches your nipple. Sanzu grabs the other mound in his hand before he lowers his head, eyeing you through heavy lids, his lips circling around your nub as you frantically try to move.

Ran lowers his head as he uses a finger to move your panties to the side.

“As pretty as I’d thought it’d be.” He says before he uses both hands to pull them down, Rin grabs them as he throws them to the side before handing Sanzu the blunt. Ran analyzes your pussy with a sly smile, using a finger to gather the slight slick that’s formed before sucking his finger and releasing a quiet moan.

“Stop touching me!” You exclaim, everything becoming overwhelming as your boss and coworkers roam your body, Sanzu pulling your nipple as he takes another hit.

“Relax.” He says before placing it against your lips. You move your head away before he roughly grabs your chin and forces you to face him.

“Smoke it.” He demands. You blatantly shake your head.

“No! No more of that or any of this!” You hiss as you move up once more, only for you to let out a high pitched scream of pain once Sanzu places the burning wood against your arm. Tears fall from the pain as your face becomes hot. Your other hand grips the arm that was just burnt. You shakily wipe away the residue ash left on your skin.

“Say that again.” He says before placing the blunt against your mouth. You inhale before holding it in and blowing out once more. He wipes the sweat off your forehead as he keeps it against your mouth, you having to inhale more before breathing the smoke out again, mellowing out although your heart continues to race.

Your body jolts as you feel a wet muscle slithering against your clit. Ran’s tongue flicks your nub before his lips close around, sucking as he slightly bobs his head. Kazutora sucks his fingers before sliding his hand down, bending over as he uses two fingers to ease into your wet pussy. Your hole clenches around his fingers as your hips twitch, biting your lip as you hold back from releasing any sound as your eyes shut tightly.

Suddenly, hands grab your hips as you're pushed up, legs hovering over your head as your body is bent. The wetness moves to your ass as his tongue glides against your anus.

“Hah! Not there! Stop it, please!” Tears fall in humiliation as he eats you out, Rin positioning himself to eat your pussy as Kazutora angles his fingers, gliding in and out slowly as he holds pressure to your g-spot before pulling out again, watching your pussy contract intensely. A tongue runs along your clit repeatedly flicking the nub before he sucks it. Sanzu and Mikey hold up your legs as they kiss and lick your neck before leaving hickeys and pinching the skin between their teeth, Mikey handing Sanzu the roach before he throws it out of the cracked window, returning his hand to your nipple.

As Kazutora accelerates his fingers, your hips slightly meet his hand as the brothers eat you out, your eyes rolling into the back of your head with your mouth slightly ajar, head falling back on Mikey’s shoulder.

“Ran.”

“Yes boss?”

“Pull out my cock.” He complies, pulling Mikey’s sweats down as well as his underwear, revealing his hard girth. You tense once you feel his head against your ass.

“W-wait, Mikey there’s no lube. Please don’t!”

“My King, I can help.” He says with a dazed look.

Mikey eyes him for a second before he nods his head, Sanzu and Ran switching placements as Ran settles next to her upper body and Sanzu moves to Mikey’s throbbing cock. A groan leaves Mikey’s lips, brushing against your ear as Sanzu lowers his head, lips circling around Mikey’s tip before shoving his cock deep within his throat.

You feel your boss’s hips jerk as his head falls back against the car’s window. Another moan leaves his mouth as you hear the mixture of saliva and precum combining as Sanzu pulls his head back and forth steadily, making sure to wet his king’s cock to the fullest.

“Knew he’d be eager to suck Mikey’s cock.” Rin whispers against your pussy as Kazutora and Ran chuckle at his statement. Sanzu pulls his head back and uses his hand to angle Mikey’s cock against your anus. Your body is forced to drop on his thick cock, tears escaping as the pain shoots up your back.

“Fuck!” You cry out, “Take it out! Take it out, you fucking assholes!” Kazutora removes his fingers as Rin pulls back, sitting in their seats as they pull out their own hard cocks, using spit to rub themselves off. Once Mikey’s cock was stuffed all the way into your ass, he held it there as he basked in your warmth. Sanzu hovers over you as he uses his own spit to wet himself. You jolt when his head meets your pussy lips.

Your hands grip Sanzu’s shoulders as he eases into your pussy, fortunately the juice that was already there makes it less painful, though your hole clenched around his girth as you're full from both sides.

“Relax your muscles.” Ran whispers in your ear as his own hand wraps around his cock, while the other caresses your head.

“I can’t! It hurts!” You exclaim as your eyes shut tightly. Your head falls back once more, Ran leaving a kiss along your jaw.

“Yes you can. Just breathe.” You had no choice but to comply as you tried to get through the pain, breathing heavily as Sanzu and Mikey began to move slowly. A drawn out moan escapes Sanzu as the pressure from Mikey’s cock could be felt through your walls, causing extra friction.

Time passed and their hips began to accelerate, the car filling with five men’s moans as all of them thrust their hips, pulsating cocks engulfed in warmth. Sanzu’s cock, angled to hit your g-spot, causes an intense pleasure that contrasts with the lingering pain from Mikey’s cock stretching your ass. The agony numbing out as you begin to fill a pleasurable fullness as your body rocks up and down, nails piercing through Sanzu’s fabric. You grunt as your ass clenches around Mikey’s cock, barely holding back a moan as the friction causes you to near your orgasm.

“Tell me how good it feels.” Mikey hissed against your ear, hand reaching around your throat as he slams his hips against your ass, speeding up.

“It doesn’t!” You cry out. “I-it feels terrible! Get out of me!” A loud moan accidentally leaves your mouth when Sanzu’s pace becomes faster, ambushing your g-spot repeatedly. A sharp pinch against your nipple causes you to yelp.

“Lie again.” Mikey growls, “Tell me the truth or I’ll blow your brains out as soon as I cum.”

“Fuck, this is so hot.” Kazutora hissed as his head falls back, rubbing his cock violently as his erection pulsates in his grip. Rin bites his own lip as he thrusts his hand, rubbing a thumb over his slit as he watches the display.

“Come on, angel. Be good for us, yeah?” Ran breathlessly says as he brings himself closer, hand gripping your head as he ruts against his other hand.

Your body convulses, warmth overcoming your abdomen as your hips grind hard against the two cocks, head back as your mouth hangs open with a silent scream.

“F-fuck! I’m… ah! Cumming!”

“Shit!” Rin hissed as his hand moves faster, your voice turning all of them on as they continue to work for their own orgasm.

You cry out from Mikey and Sanzu continuing their assault, thrusts becoming sloppier as they cause you to overstimulate, your hips frantically grinding back as the feeling becomes all too overwhelming, nose scrunching as your nails scratch Sanzu.

“Say it now! Tell us how good it feels to be full of our cocks! Right now, Y/n!” Sanzu growls, pink hue covering his face as he gazes into your eyes with a lustful, crazed glare.

“Feels good! S’ fucking good, hah! I’m gonna… I’m gonna cum again!”

In reality, post nut clarity will definitely come soon considering how violated you truly feel, though the feeling of being so full and your g-spot being abused causes your body to react, pussy contracting as you’re brought to your second orgasm, the men following along right after as they all release their loads.

You feel Sanzu and Mikey’s cum shoot deeply inside of you, so much coming out as some of the liquid spills out of your ass and pussy.

“Y-you all violated me.” You growl in anger as tears spill from your eyes, cocks pulling out of you causing you to grunt from the residue pain.

“You liked it.” Kazutora frowns as your vision becomes blurry.

“You should rest. Sounds like the weed is getting to your head.” Rin snorts.

Before you could prevent it, your eyes fluttered shut, darkness engulfing you into a deep sleep.

The next day, the men sat in the meeting room, awaiting your arrival. When you didn’t show up, Kakucho went to check your room, only to find you balled up in the blankets on your bed, hiding your whole body.

“Y/n?”

When you didn’t answer, he walked out of the room back towards the meeting to relay the message. The meeting continued without you. When it was over, Kazutora visited your room.

“Y/n? Why are you acting like this?” He says as he sits on the bed next to your figure. His eyebrow raises when his hand reaches your form, squeezing it before he stands up and snatches the blankets back, revealing an empty space.

“Shit!” He hissed in anger.

Two years pass and you just got out of your therapy appointment, walking to your car before you hopped in and drove to your apartment. You knew that the only way you could leave Bonten was by death or running away. So you decided to make a new life for yourself in a different country, far away from Japan.

You knew the job was toxic anyway but you didn’t know that you’d be violated sexually. You’re in a better head space, though you do have moments where you can feel the hands all over you, not scrubbing your body hard enough as your skin raws. Your new boyfriend, along with your friends and therapist have helped you grow positively as you slowly let your past go.

Entering your apartment, you expect to see your boyfriend in the living room on video games, not his limbs detached from his torso, or head decapitated as it’s rolled in between someone’s feet. Nor did you expect to see blood all over your carpet as well as the frames and paintings broken, thrown off the walls, glass shards everywhere. Your trembling hand covers your mouth as you eye the five men you never wanted to see again, staring at you with cold stoic expressions, worse than any angry look you could’ve ever received.

Hyperventilating, you turn on your heel to run back out your front door, only to run into Takeomi’s chest.

“No, no, no! Let me out, Takeomi! You don’t know what they did to me!” Your fists hit his back as he swings you over his shoulder.

“Oh I know. Now they’re pussy whipped and can’t get over you. Not even boss. You’re lucky you’re not gonna be killed, but there’s no way we’re letting you out of our sight again. Consider yourself, Bonten’s property.” He says as he walks to the car.

You continue struggling in his grip as tears leave from your eyes, crying out in anger and devastation over your boyfriend’s gruesome death. The life you created for yourself being torn from your grasp as another thing important is snatched away. You mourn your lost freedom as well as what’s to come.

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inky-duchess · 10 months ago

Text

Etiquette of the Edwardian Era and La Belle Époque: Courting

This is a new set of posts focusing on the period of time stretching from the late 19th century to the early 20th Century right up to the start of WWI. I'll be going through different aspects of life. This series can be linked to my Great House series as well as my Season post and Debutant post.

I get asked a lot about courting, what's acceptable or what's off limits and how one may woo a prospective spouse. So let's explore how to win the hand and heart.

Meeting (not so cute?)

Firstly, it is really difficult to have a meet cute in the Edwardian era. Women and men are kept separate for most of the day, only really getting to meet at designated events: A dinner, a ball, a social event. Meeting in the park is a cute idea but a gentleman can't just approach a lady (or another gentleman) without being introduced by a third party, either a senior party or a mutual friend. However, an introduction at a ball is sort of like Cinderella's get up, it ceases to matter when the ball is over. Your gentleman must not approach a lady after that ball, he must be reintroduced. Once an introduction has been made, he can speak with her.

An Interest

When an introduction has gone satisfactory, a gentleman must make the first move by calling to her parents'/guardian's home and making a formal request to begin courting. Her parents/guardians must consent, usually leading to a short brief interview of the gentleman's family, his connections, his wealth (though in not so vulgar terms, they may inquire where he lives which is an indicator). The woman's opinion did matter, she could give her reasons for accepting or turning down the offer. When the interest is approved, the gentleman can start offering invitations.

Three's Company

Of course, just because the parents agree, doesn't mean the couple gets to be alone. The young lady will be accompanied by a chaperone either a lady's maid, a governess, her mother or another female relative. While the couple is together, the chaperone will always be a few steps behind or have them in sight. She's there to ensure that nothing more than a conversation happens. This is not only for her young lady's reputation but also to save the man from any claims of impropriety. The chaperone also serves as a sort of spy, gauging whether this relationship is worth pursuing.

Activities & Tokens

A gentleman may invite a lady out to lots of different activities. He can invite her for a promenade at a local park or gardens, out the theatre, visit her at home, invite her to galleries, to balls or to be his companion at sporting events such as the races, tennis matches or boat races. When visiting in the house, the gentleman would be expected to speak with all the family, be polite and courteous. This is how the family guages his suitably. The gentleman must provide transportation and funds for any excursion. Gifts are to be refined as well. Expensive gifts are considered vulgar and will likely be turned down. Small gifts such as flowers, books, cakes are acceptable. Gifts aren't as important as the time spent together.

Rules of Engagement

There are certain unspoken rules surrounding courtship that every gentlemen must follow for a successful courtship:

A gentleman should always pay attention to his lady, and not exclude her or cast her off for others

A gentleman never smokes in front of his lady nor forget to remove his hat.

A gentleman must always offer to refresh his lady on an excursion

A gentleman must defend his lady from any offense be it an insult or a scene unfit for her eyes or within an argument. Throwing in an apology for any offense can add a cherry on top.

However if she's the one giving offense, without any reason, the gentleman must seek to create peace, apologising on her behalf.

When walking, a lady will be placed in the inside of the pavement.

A gentleman should never spend above his means to impress his lady. Staying within his means is not only smart but a show of restraint and a glimpse of what life ought to be if they marry.

A gentleman should always offer his assistance when a lady is exiting a carriage or going up a flight of steps or carrying anything heavy.

If a man accompanies a woman to a ball, he's expected to dance with her on her first and last dances of the evening.

A gentleman must always make his intentions known and not string a lady along with no intention of marriage. He must never joke about his intentions or lead her on.

Marriage

Courtship usually promises marriage which is why a gentleman or lady should not enter into courtship unless they would consider marriage. Courtship may last a few months or a few weeks and while it is going on, both sides should consider whether marriage would be a viable option of either of them. Parents/guardians would be consulted, the gentleman must make his intentions known to her father or nearest male relative before approaching the lady and popping the question. A courtship that doesn't end in marriage is seen as a failure and may damage the reputation of both parties, leading people to wonder what happened and who is to blame. For example is a perfectly eligible gentleman will not marry a perfectly eligible lady or she turns down his offer, people will usually leap to the conclusion that there is something lacking.

LGBTQIA+ Courting

Gay people have always been here. They have courted and they have loved. Whilst it was illegal in this time in many parts of the world, love did prevail. (fun fact: lesbianism wasn't illegal because nobody wanted to explain what it was to Queen Victoria). The good thing to know is that courting whilst gay was likely easier in this period. Whilst there were restrictions and rules for straight couples and chaperones haunted their every step, none of this would happen if two people of the same gender stepped out together. Two gentleman going to the opera together or dining at a restaurant or attending a ball together (dancing in public was unlikely) or two ladies promenading in the park or attending a concert would not be examined like a courting couple. They would have more freedom to move around but of course, with legal impediments PDA was kept a minium. Whilst they wouldn't be allowed to marry legally, there was little stopping couples from moving in together. Nobody would say much about two spinsters sharing a home or two bachelors crashing together

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justwinginglife · 3 months ago

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hi can I request sochiro x reader arrange marriage where the girl is a platoon leader in the third and first division. And her parents want her to quit her job to be a housewife, but like she’s very good at it. And her and soshiro don’t really get along and when they sleep together it’s always after they argue because in her head she thinks the only way she can hurt him is if she runs her nails down his back. Furthermore they start to eventually fall for each other I’ll let you decide how. But then he starts to get jealous at the guys that clearly like her and he kinda wants to claim her. Idk something like that can you make it angsty too pls

thank you sorry for the trouble

Don't apologize, it's no trouble at all! Sorry I took so long with this prompt, was just trying to figure out all the in's and out's. Honestly not even sure if this is what you wanted, but this is my attempt. ALSO THIS IS NSFW IF YALL COULDN'T TELL.

The Best Kind Of Disaster

You expected marriage to a stranger to be difficult but not a disaster. It was, in fact, quite disastrous. But your parents had begged you to quit your job as a Platoon Leader in the First Division and this was your compromise with them- you'd marry anyone they chose on the condition that they quit complaining about your work and stop trying to get you to become a housewife. So now you were in this mess for better or for worse and this disaster was yours to keep.

Honestly, you'd originally thought this marriage would be a breeze. The man you had saddled yourself with was none other than Vice Captain Hoshina of the Defense Force's Third Division so you knew he'd at least understand your duty if he didn't understand anything else. And he was quite the looker too. But looks don't solve everything and you were starting to realize that more and more, day by day.

You blamed Captain Narumi for your troubles. You'd taken too much of his personality into you, after working with him so long, and Hoshina could feel it. Every little behavior that was Gen's, every reflex, every smartass comment, the way you fought, even the tone of your voice sometimes resembled his, and Hoshina was not having it.

He constantly complained that if he wanted to marry Narumi he would've just married Narumi. And you were constantly pissed that he'd never recognize you as your own person. You couldn't even drink your tea or read a book without him making some snide comment about how Narumi probably taught you how to put a proper cup together or how he probably taught you how to read. Then you'd shoot back with some snarky comment of your own but it only furthered his opinion that you were just another Narumi copy.

One day, you'd decided to show him the specific ways in which you were different from Narumi. Your anatomy, in particular.

He had come home from a particularly long day at work and had too much energy to burn off, too much stress on his lower half. You noticed the little bulge in his pants and thought you'd tease him a little but he didn't take the vulgar comments well. In no time at all, he had you in a chokehold on the ground. You thought you might break his boner with the sudden urge to kick him in the crotch, but that fire inside you went somewhere else when you saw his little smirk. It was the first time you'd even seen some resemblance of a smile on his face, and the thought that you being underneath him was what had pleased him sent those flames rushing to the space between your legs.

You smirked right back and adjusted your weight, yanking him to the floor and positioning yourself on top him.

"Bitch."

"Asshole."

"Fucking wannabe Narumi."

"Fucking second-rate samurai."

"I bet Narumi fucks better than you do."

"I bet Soichiro fucks better than you do."

He growled at that, rolling over so you were pinned underneath him again. He ground his hips up against yours and the feeling of his erection fucking you through your pants got your underwear soaking. He started sucking and biting harshly at your neck as though he were trying to tear your throat out with his teeth. But you liked the pain. It was surprisingly the most attracted you'd ever been to him.

You yanked his shirt off, only able to admire his rock-hard physique for a minute before he shoved his tongue down your throat. You almost choked on it and he smirked against your lips. He was so fucking smug and it pissed you off- in the sexiest way.

You bit his lip hard and he groaned at the sharp sensation.

To get you back, he gripped your breast tight, squeezing at it with full force. Then he ripped your shirt off and began sucking at his target aggressively, dragging his tongue back and forth over your nipple relentlessly. You moaned and began cupping your other breast, to which he responded by shoving your hand away from your chest.

"Did I fucking tell you that you could touch yourself? You're going to pay for making that comment about my brother. I'm gonna fuck you so hard you can't see straight and you're going to take back your words, so don't go getting off before I can destroy you properly."

"Promises, promises. You talk a big game for being the lesser Hoshina." You teased with daring eyes.

He knew you were baiting him but he didn't care, he used it as fuel to unleash all his jealousy and fury on you. "We'll see if you'll still be saying that by the time I'm done with you. I'm gonna send you back to Narumi so fucking cum drunk he won't be able to recognize you."

And with that, not wanting to waste anymore time talking, he jerked your pants off of you and jabbed his fingers at your panties. He wouldn't give you the satisfaction of feeling him fully inside you yet. He just teased at your entrance, roughly dragging his fingers up and down your underwear, pleased at just how much wetter he was making it.

You groaned at the unnecessary teasing and before he could react, you wrenched your underwear to the side and shoved his two fingers inside you, thrusting your hips into them.

He hissed but he didn't resist, he just kept pumping his fingers deep inside you. "So fucking impatient and so fucking wet."

"Thought you were gonna show me something special, or do I have to ask your brother if I want a good time?"

You could almost feel his glare searing holes into your skull and the thought got you so damn horny. "Fuck me then, Soshiro."

It was the first time he'd heard you say his first name and he groaned as he palmed his growing erection through his pants. Then he yanked it out, fucking his hand until there was enough precum drizzling down his throbbing cock.

You wanted to make some sassy comment about his shrimpy size (honestly, it was huge but you didn't need him to have anymore ego than he already did so you thought you'd knock him down a peg), but before you could form any words, a yelp had already escaped your throat as you realized he'd just shoved his full length inside you.

He was grinning widely now, amused by the precious little noises escaping your quivering lips.

You bit your lip to silence them but more moans came clumsily tumbling out as he continued to relentlessly thrust into you until you thought he might bruise your sensitive walls. Might make you bleed out underneath him.

You wanted your share of his blood too and you dug your nails into his back, as you braced yourself for his next onslaught. The feeling of you piercing his skin did more to him than either of you thought it would, because his pace picked up, like he was eager to come with your nails carved into him.

The sound of him desperately fucking your dripping pussy, panting heavily as he groaned into your chest, sent you over the edge. Never mind that you were married and this is what married couples did, no this act of intimacy with him felt filthy, felt corrupt. You hated each other. So why did it feel so obscenely good? If this feeling were a tangible object, you would've locked it away and let it sink to the bottom of the ocean.

But regardless, the feeling of pure orgasmic pleasure washed over you anyway and you shuddered underneath him, clenching around his dick as you came in waves. He took this as permission to thrust into you again, this time pumping hot white sheets of his cum inside your velvety depths.

He finished filling you up and pulled out abruptly, but to your surprise he then flipped you over on your stomach and plunged his still-dripping cock inside your ass, continuing his assault on your trembling body.

You whimpered at this new sensation and he soaked up the sound. You hadn't wanted to inflate his ego but you'd done it all the same.

He reached around you and roughly flicked a finger at your clit as he thrust into your ass deeper.

"If you beg me to stop I will." You could almost hear his stupid smirk.

You didn't want to give him the satisfaction. "What, you don't got the stamina to finish the job, Hoshina?"

He chuckled darkly, and removed his hand from your swollen clit, much to your dismay. Then he dug his hands into your hips before pounding into you harder.

The pain and the pleasure were so beautifully distracting that you almost forgot you hated him. You could get lost in the feeling of being underneath him, of making him so wild for you that he'd fuck you round after round, cum still fresh on his dick each time.

The arousing thoughts forced another orgasm from you, and you squirt all over the floor as he pumped his seed deep into your ass.

You collapsed on the ground, dripping from front and back, and he pulled away from you to admire his handiwork while he caught his breath.

You thought maybe the sudden intimacy would change something in your relationship, make you sweeter to each other, kinder to each other, but that hope was ripped from your mind when he made a stupid fucking comment about liking you better when you were all pathetic for him and you ended up kneeing him in the balls.

Months later, you were still making petty comments and snarky digs at each other, but that first initial sexual encounter proved that one thing had in fact changed in your relationship- hate sex was now on the table and the both of you were ready to use it at a moment's notice.

You got more kills than him in combat? He'd take it out on your clit.

He said your cooking was shit? You blew him so hard he begged for seconds. You forced him to retry your food and rethink his stance on it, then you choked him down again afterwards.

Little by little, you both unconsciously began to seek each other out more and more; of course, you both used the sex as a cover, but even when you weren't having sex you were still looking for each other, looking for ways to be closer.

He said he wanted to blow your back out but really he wanted to wish you a happy birthday and he snuck a gift into your room when you weren't looking.

You said you wanted to milk him dry, but you really wanted to distract him from the bad day he was having.

He said he wanted to fuck you until you dropped, but really he wanted you away from base when they were looking for volunteers for a particularly dangerous mission.

All this tip-toeing, just to avoid the simple truth that your relationship had evolved into what marriage was supposed to be in the first place. If you really thought about it, it should've been easy. You were already married, how hard could it be to confess your feelings to your husband? But you didn't like to think about it, didn't like to wonder if you were overestimating your relationship, if you were overthinking every nice gesture he made, if you were really just a body for him to have sex with. You couldn't stand the thought of being desperately in love with him and him seeing you as just another woman. Just some baggage he'd gotten bogged down with. Even if he had grown fond of you, was it just in the way one was fond of a pet?

So you kept quiet. And so did he.

And for awhile, it seemed like your relationship would forever be suspended in this state. But then you got asked out on a date and the aching in your heart made you realize everything you were missing from your current relationship. You wanted to be pursued, you wanted to be chased after. You'd almost forgotten what it was like to be desired.

So now, here was this tall, handsome man asking you out, offering you everything you could've ever wanted, and all you could do was flounder. Of course you wanted to be seduced, wanted to be wanted, but he wasn't Soshiro. No one would ever be Soshiro to you.

Right as you were about to reject him, you felt a hand wrap around your waist, the grip firm and protective.

"I really hope I heard wrong, because you better not be asking my wife out on a date." Soshiro warned, his voice low and rough as he took his place beside you.

The man looked from him to you, then back to him, and he quickly shook his head before scurrying off.

"That's what I thought." Soshiro grumbled, pulling you closer to him.

"Since when am I yours?" You teased, nudging him with your arm.

"Since when are you not?" He nuzzled up against your ear, nibbling on it slightly.

You rolled your eyes. "In bed, sure. Outside, not so sure."

His brows furrowed at your statement. "What do you mean?"

You waved him away, not wanting to have this discussion in public. "Nothing, nothing."

He grabbed your wrist tightly. "Baby. What do you mean you're not mine?"

He'd never called you baby before. He'd never called you any pet name before. Your heart thundered in your chest.

"I thought we... I thought we just...." You trailed off, unable to explain yourself in a way that made you sound less pathetic.

"Thought we what? We just fuck and mess around and don't care about each other?" He demanded, his eyes focused intensely on yours.

You swallowed but then nodded slowly.

He winced and bit his lip. "Fuck. I had a feeling, but I didn't realize it was this bad. I... I'll make myself more clear next time."

You coughed. "I'm sorry- what?"

"I... I don't want to just fuck around. I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

You laughed at that. "Well you kinda already have to, we're legally stuck together."

He shook his head quickly. "I'm not stuck with you, I'm with you because I want to be. Because I... love you."

He got down on one knee and pressed a tender kiss to your hand. "I know I'm a little late, but will you marry me?"

You laughed again, but this time your heart felt lighter and your cheeks felt warmer. You held up your hand, flashing the ring that was already settled around your finger at him. "I already have, love. But I'd do it again in a heartbeat. In a million lifetimes. So yes, I will marry you."

Then he stands up and gives you the kiss you should've had at the altar. It's mind melting and dripping with sweetness and care. It's passionate but delicate, as if he doesn't want to break the moment. It's everything you've ever wanted.

He's everything you've ever wanted.

#kaiju no. 8 #soshiro hoshina #soshiro hoshina x reader #hoshina #anime #oneshot #hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro x reader #anime fanfic

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endlessthxxghts · 1 year ago

Text

You Better Jump... (part 2 of 2)

no outbreak!neighbor!joel miller x afab!reader || W/C: ≈9k

Summary: Your neighbor fixed your lock for you. How can you ever repay him? [read part 1 here]

Warnings: Canon divergent (no outbreak) & mentions of Sarah but we don't see or interact with her (AU - she moved out, lives on her own). Partial physical description of reader (having a thick/curvy body, wears a dress/feminine). Reader is a polyglot but no explicit mentions of race/ethnicity. Feminine pet names (sweet girl, darlin’, etc.). Flirty/awkward interactions and heightened sexual tension. Reader’s unhinged bestie <3. Implied age gap, but no explicit mention as to how big. LATINO JOEL MILLER (😫). An oddly weird amount of sweetness for 2 people who just met LOL. SMUT 18+ MDNI: Joel gets turned on at reader being a polyglot LMAO. Overall dirty talk/vulgar language. Dom/sub undertones (not heavy or established but definitely present). Vaginal fingering, p in v unprotected (I’m not sorry), semi-public sexual activity, thigh riding, bit of exhibitionism kink, oral sex (f receiving), squirting (blink and you’ll miss it), spit kink, choking, hickeys/marking… please let me know if I’ve missed anything!!

A/N: HERE'S PART 2 (THE FINAL PART)! ENJOY, MY LOVES!!💚

MASTERLIST

You and Joel make out like that, with your front door wide open, until you hear a loud meow from what you immediately know to be the neighborhood cat who likes to visit you once in a while. You two break away from each other, breathless, startled from the feline just sitting at the foot of your door.

You look back up to Joel with a cheesy grin on your face, and he mirrors your expression, bringing one of his hands up to run along your red and swollen bottom lip. “Sorry,” he chuckles breathily, “got a little carried away.”

You slowly lean forward into his touch and take his thumb into your mouth, swirling it around your tongue. “Don’t apologize,” you say. You pull your mouth off his thumb and leave a little kiss to the pad of it, “I liked it.”

He groans, his eyes completely black and the grip on your waist tightens, “Darlin’,” he warns, “I need to take you out properly first.”

You slowly back away an inch with a smile full of trouble and put your hands up in a surrendering motion.

His jaw clenches, “You’re trouble, aren’t ya, sweetheart?”

You shrug your shoulders in response, “Maybe.” You fall to your knees in front of him, slowly, and pick up the tools he dropped before your little makeout session. You stand on your knees, head in line with his hips, and look up at him. You reach around and tuck his tools in the back pocket of his jeans, grabbing onto his belt loops to pull yourself back on your feet, “Thank you for fixing my door for me, Joel.”

Before you can break away from the close proximity, his arm snakes around your waist yet again and pulls you in, his other free hand going straight for the underside of your jaw. “Pick you up at seven tonight, hm? Wear somethin’ pretty,” he says, leaning in for a deep kiss that sucks all the air out of you, “Somethin’ that gives me easy access, yeah?”

And with that, he walks out (the cat in tow), shutting the door in the process.

✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It’s 5 o'clock by the time Joel left you completely speechless at his last words, and it’s 6 by the time you call your best friend to get your ass over here right now and update her on everything that happened, including her stupid ass comment that made it right into Joel’s earshot. Of course, she laughs hysterically at that, slapping the shit out of your arm with every deep breath she takes at an attempt to calm herself.

“Alright, bitch,” she says, wiping the edges of her eyes from any residue tears, “Let’s get ya dressed, so you can jump-”

“That’s enough,” you say, slapping your hand over her mouth.

✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Holy fuck.

All your life, you were never really confident in yourself. You were secure enough in your identity that you knew you weren’t that bad to the average eye, but you also very much knew that you weren’t jaw-droppingly sexy. That is, until Joel made you feel like the hottest person on the planet with how he couldn’t control himself with you. Mix in your best friend’s way of hyping you up, and fuck did you feel unstoppable.

You’re not much of a dress person, but you did have a silk, dark green spaghetti strap dress that you bought on a whim a year back. You were slightly skinnier then, but the way it hugs you now accentuates all the right curves and you’ve never felt so fucking beautiful. The dress is also very flowy, having a long slit on both sides, stopping at your hip. Standing, sitting down, no matter what angle, anyone is bound to see a slip of your underwear. Which is totally the reason why you make the executive decision to not wear any, and not because of Joel’s words ringing in your ear since it left his mouth.

You enter your living room once again, giving your best friend a bit of a show before you kick her ass out, and just as your laughs settle down, you hear a knock at your door.

No fuckin’ way it’s been an hour already, you think to yourself. Your eyes go wide as you look at your best friend, her expression mirroring yours. You frantically look at the clock on your television stand, and, it has been an hour already, fuck.

You tell your best friend to hide in your room for now because there is absolutely no way she’s meeting Joel yet. She frowns, but ultimately she listens and runs to your room while you run to grab the door.

You’re already out of breath from the show you were giving your best friend, and the nerves that were building with Joel on the other side of the door you were about to open is not helping one bit.

You planned on just side-stepping him and making it straight for his car, so he doesn’t come inside, but as soon as the door opens, your breath hitches. Joel is so fucking sexy, Jesus fucking Christ, you want to swallow him whole right fucking now. As your eyes give him a full sweep, you make it down to his sleek black shoes, and in your peripheral vision, you see that your feet are still bare. Shit, there goes your plan.

“Well, aren’t you a pretty sight,” he says, also looking you up and down, matching your energy, wanting to devour you just as bad. You smirk up at him and muster up a bashful thank you, but you’re still in a trance from how good he looks. Finally, you feel the outside air tickle your feet, so you start stepping backwards into your apartment, beginning to kneel down to reach the heels you set aside earlier.

He notices where you’re headed and stops you by gently grabbing you by the hip, “Here, may I?” And before you can even think to decline (which you never would), he’s already on his knees for you, for the second time today, and you can’t help the pooling arousal in your core. Your panty-less core, to be exact, which is now only inches away from him.

He grabs your foot and situates it on his knee while he works to unclasp the strap. When he does, his rough hands are grabbing your ankle so contrastingly soft and situating your foot into the heel. He makes sure the strap wraps perfectly around your ankle, and seeing how big his hands are, you would think he would struggle with such a tiny buckle. But no, he clasps it faster than even you would, and he finishes off by leaving a sweet kiss just above where the strap lays on you. He hears your breath hitch at that, so, like the menace he is, he places three more soft kisses, making the journey higher up your leg. And before you can beg him to keep going, he’s already switching your feet around, and repeating the exact same process to your other foot. Including the three kisses up your leg. He looks up at you, a smug smile and a playful sparkle in his eye, “Ready, pretty girl?”

“Y-yeah, I-I’m ready,” you stutter out, eyes already glossed over. He stands at full height now, his hand falling to your lower back as he guides you to the front door. He pauses, though, and you look up at him slightly confused. “I reckon she won’t be here when we get back, but, uh, aren’t ya gonna introduce me to your little friend?”

Your eyes go wide, “How-?” You begin to question, but his fingers are already at your chin, guiding you to look at the black Jeep, backed into a parking spot next to your car, with a bumper sticker of a half set of butterfly wings. It perfectly matches up to the sticker on your car, making a full butterfly. “Oh,” you say defeated but also impressed he picked up on such a little detail. It makes your heart warm a little.

He lets you go from his grasp, and you turn your body in the general direction of your room and yell, “Bitch, get out he-”

It’s as if she had her ear to the door the entire time, waiting for the moment she could dart out because she doesn’t even give you a moment to finish your statement. She’s already in front of you both within seconds.

You give her the eyes that she immediately translates as please play it cool, but you both know she won’t. “Hi, Joel, right? I’ve heard lots about ya,” she spits out at the speed of lightning as she holds her hand out for him to take, and she quickly follows by introducing her name. Joel chuckles at her eagerness and his date’s obvious embarrassment. It’s endearing. Reminds him of his relationship with Tommy. It warms him to know you have a true ride or die in your life, it’s rare to come across these days.

Eventually the introductions are over, your best friend is headed back to her home, and you and Joel are headed to some restaurant that he refuses to tell you the name or where it is, just that the “Drive is worth it, I promise.”

“A 40 minute drive?” you say jokingly just to rile him up, “This better be the best goddamn thing my mouth is ever gonna taste, then.”

His stare breaks from the road for a moment to look at you, then it’s back on the road. But he has a shit-eating grin on his face. “We might as well turn around then, huh? Because the best goddamn thing that mouth of yours is ever gonna taste is not available in any restaurant, no matter how far or fancy.”

It takes you a minute to register, but when it does, you can feel your cheeks and ears heat up, spreading down to your chest, and eventually his dirty implication forces the heat to settle in between your legs. “Christ,” you say under your breath as you shift your hips in his passenger seat, not wanting your already soaked pussy to get anywhere.

Maybe you should’ve worn some panties after all.

✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You guys are on the last stretch of your drive, about ten minutes left, and Joel’s hand has found his home on your thigh, thoughtlessly rubbing his fingers up and down. However, your mind is completely racing because fuck you just wish he’d move up a little higher to where you are absolutely begging for him the most.

As if he hears your plea, his hand goes higher and higher, but then he stops. His hand goes rigid, grip gets a little tighter, and his breath gets a little heavier. His hand is high enough to where he should be feeling the hem of your underwear, or at least that’s what he was expecting to feel.

“Darlin’?”

“Yes, Joel?” you say as innocently as possible.

“Are you not…?”

“No,” losing the innocence in a matter of seconds.

“You’re fuckin’ killin’ me, baby,” he grits out as his hand resumes his path to your wetness. The closer he gets, the more your hips try and angle upwards so he can reach you better, and as soon as his fingers are running through your folds, you’re fucking done for.

“We’re not leavin’ this car ‘til you cum at least twice on my fingers,” he says, his voice completely dark now. “Ya hear me?” He questions as he applies pressure to your clit.

“Fuck! Yes- yes, please, Joel,” you whine out. You shift your body slightly towards his direction, and you open your legs as much as his truck allows you to. Immediately, his fingers slide from your clit and come down to your entrance, spreading your wetness all over you.

He dips into your hole, just one finger in and slowly starts pumping in and out. You’re so turned on by him that just one finger is enough to make that wet squelching sound from going in and out of you. You let out a moan at the action, your one hand shooting to grip the handle of your door and the other gripping onto his bicep. “You make the sweetest sounds for me, darlin’,” he says to you, southern twang increasing in line with his own arousal.

“Please, baby-” you mutter as your head falls back. His one finger speeds up at your words, “Oh, c’mon, use those words,” he teases a second finger at your entrance.

He’s only using one finger right now, and you’re already fucked out, unable to speak or think. You so badly want more of him, though, so you will yourself to talk. “Oh, p-please, an- another finger, Joel, please.. n-need you so bad, please,” you beg.

“That’s right, baby, usin’ your words for me,” he slides his second finger in, “Dámelo.” Give it to me.

“Oh my god,” you damn near scream out, his words spurring you on more than you’ve ever felt. More slick leaks out of you at his Spanish command. Of course he’s fucking sexy and has the filthiest mouth, in multiple languages, known to man. His two fingers are coming in and out of you at a delicious rate, the thickness and length of him hits that sweet spot in you without even trying. “Touch your clit, baby,” you barely hear him say with how blissed out your head feels. Slowly, you let go of the door handle beside you and bring your hand to your clit, rubbing messy circles on your center, coaxing your orgasm closer and closer to the edge.

“Fuck, Joel, your fingers-” you say as he works you open. “My fingers, what? Go on, lemme hear you, trouble.”

Your breathing speeds up to an erratic pace, hot and heavy, “t-too fuck-” your moan cuts you off as your orgasm approaches. He makes his fingers bend in a motion that hits you right where you need it, and- “Oh, fuck, I’m cumming, Joel.”

“Fuck, yeah, that’s it, baby,” he says, his movements slowing momentarily.

In your foggy haze, you find yourself peaking at the time, and- It’s only been four fucking minutes? Never has a man ever been able to make you cum that fast. Your past girlfriends, absolutely, but the men you slept with? They’re not even worthy of the label boyfriend if you’re being completely honest. Whatever the case is, you just know Joel has you absolutely fucked. You knew this from the start, of course, but it’s finally setting in. When he’s knuckle-deep inside you while less than ten minutes out from your mystery date location. Chivalry isn’t dead after all, huh?

You’re brought back from your slight distraction when you feel him pull out of you. You whimper at the loss, your hips raising for more. “I know, sugar, I know,” he comforts, “I just have to get a taste before I lose my fuckin’ mind.” His fingers disappear into his mouth, licking and sucking every last drop on him like you’re some lifesaving nectar he’s been searching all his life for. He lets out a pained groan, “I need to taste ya for real, fuck.”

He gives you no time to react to his words because his fingers are back inside you in no time. This time he pumps into you with a steady pace but a deep pressure that has you unable to take a single breath in. Your eyes are rolled back, and it feels like you’re drowning. Like you’re being consumed in everything Joel, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Sweat is dripping down your neck at this point as the heat spreads from the apples of your cheeks to the swell of your breasts all the way down to your core. The sounds flowing out of you are uncontrollable and pure filth, and it’s riling him up so much that he is in literal physical pain. His hand that’s on the wheel is gripping so hard that his knuckles are ghost white, and his entire face is flushed with the utmost amount of pained self control you’ve ever fucking seen.

“C’mon, my filthy fuckin’ girl,” he grunts out, “almost there, baby, need one more from you,” his pace finally speeding up in the way that he knows, from your first climax, will end you. He tried keeping his pace slow on purpose, so he can draw out all your beautiful moans and gasps and drag you further into that floating state of mind, but you’re nearly at your destination now and he so desperately needs to get out of this car before he drops his gentlemen promise and pulls over to take you right here in his truck. Unbeknownst to you, he pulls into a parking space that is completely excluded from the general population, and he leans over to bring his hand on your jaw to make you meet his eyes.

“You look at me when I make you cum, yeah, trouble?” he asks, though it’s not much of a question. Your eyebrows furrow as you look at him and you try to answer him, but you’re feeling too good that as soon as you starts, “Anythinforyou, Jo-” your orgasm cuts you off and your mouth falls open with the most desperate and needy moans you’ve ever heard yourself make.

He continues his movements as you let yourself fall deeper and deeper, and only until the overstimulation begins to hit you do you realize where you are. “W-when did we park..?” you groan out as he removes his finger from your spent pussy. He chuckles at your cluelessness, “Few minutes ago, sweet girl,” he says as he brings his fingers up to his mouth yet again to lap up your arousal. The action alone has your pussy clenching for something more.

As if he can read your mind, “Later,” he smirks at you. “Let’s eat,” he adds as he gets himself out of the car and walks to your side, opening your door and guiding you out. “Thank you,” you say shyly, unable to look up at him and as you stand on your jello legs.

✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The restaurant he takes you to is absolutely gorgeous and lively. It’s an Italian restaurant, small and homey, and it seems like a locally owned business. It’s extremely dim, and the main sources of light are purple and red, pointing in the direction of the live music. You two are sitting in a booth in a dark corner, intimate and excluded.

“This place is really beautiful,” you tell him with a smile that makes the butterflies in his stomach flutter. “You eat here often?”

“Y-yeah,” he stutters. Why is he nervous now when he just had you coming apart on his finger merely moments ago? Human emotion is a peculiar thing. “Actually, sorry-” he blurts. You sense his nerves, but you don’t mention it. It warms you that he’s actually nervous. It shows you he’s actively wanting more than just your lust-filled endeavors. You rest your arm along the table, your hand resting palm up near his own, offering him comfort. Silently telling him you’re nervous, too, for whatever it’s worth. He takes your hand in his, lacing your fingers with one another. You can see him physically relax. “I don’t really eat here often, but my daughter has dragged me here once or twice. The food is really fuckin’ good.”

“I’m excited,” you squeeze his hand to reflect your excitement. You’re usually the one making the pasta or any Italian dish you’ve been craving because cooking is what you were bred to do. Cooking is the way to the heart, your nonna always taught you. No matter how traditional the sentiment was, it was one you carry with you always. Naturally, you were a bit reluctant to indulge, but the entire atmosphere here screams authentic Italian culture, reminding you of your nonna and soothing your reluctances.

You both scour the menu for a moment, but you both settled on an option fairly quickly, your waiter comes right on queue. “Ciao! Can I start us off with anything to drink?”

Too enraptured by your food options, you forgot to decide your beverage. Before you can even begin to think, Joel is already on it. “Could we get two glasses of red, your house blend, please?”

“Right away, sir, I’ll be back with those in a moment and take your order, then,” he says as he steps away. Immediately then, another individual appears with two glasses and fills them up with water while you wait.

Joel’s focus is on the water being poured, while you’re still devouring him with your eyes. You and him never had a chance yet to talk about your backgrounds or your interests, but so far he’s doing a damn good job at dissecting you: your favorite food being Italian and your drink of choice always being red wine, and he got that, all unprompted.

Finally, his eyes meet yours and the sultry look you’re giving him makes him immediately heat up, his red flush making its appearance again. “What?” He gives you an amused grin.

“Oh, nothing,” you say as you lean back in your bench seat, “I just- you’re really impressing me. It’s quite the turn on.”

His expression turns from amused to aroused in seconds. “Oh?” He leans forward. “Tell me more?”

Before you can indulge, your waiter is back, placing a wine glass in front of each of you and pouring your glass a little over a third way full before he sets it down to begin taking your order.

“What can I get started for you guys?”

You signal for Joel to go first. The look on your face screams mischief, so he doesn’t question it. He orders the filet mignon gnocchi, tonight’s special. The waiter turns to you.

“Buonasera! Vorrei la carbonara, per favore,” (Good evening! I would like the carbonara, please) you say as you beam up at the waiter. His expression brightens tenfold as he realizes what language you just spoke to him. “Perfetto, la carbonara,” (Perfect, the carbonara) the waiter writes down, then looks between the both of you, “I’ll get these in right away.”

“Grazie,” (Thank you) you say, and you hear a small thank you coming from Joel as the waiter walks away. You and Joel meet each other’s gaze.

“You-” he breathes. He looks really shocked. And utterly turned on. “You speak Italian?” You don’t remember when, but his hold on your hand switched to running his finger up and down your forearm. Chills fall down your spine. “Mhm,” you respond with, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible while you reach for a sip of your wine, as if you don’t know how much you just completely rocked his world.

“Fuckin’ trouble, I tell ya,” he says under his breath as he tries to casually adjust himself under the protection of the table and the dark lighting.

After your meals come out, the next 45 minutes are spent in easy conversation. You ask him questions that prompt responses ranging from telling you about his daughter to him being a single father to his contractor business with his younger brother, Tommy. In return, he asks you questions about your family, your best friend, and the question that’s been burning him all night, “Where the hell did you learn Italian?”

You chuckle at his eagerness. Who knew Joel Miller would have an auralism fetish? You wonder what else could spur him on. “I can ask you the same about your Spanish,” you say as you wipe your mouth from any pasta sauce. “Throwing your words at me while you have me wrapped around your fingers, literally.” You say it so casual yet bold that it does nothing but fire him up more. His self control slips more and more with every flirty and filthy word your mouth utters.

He clears his throat and takes a deep breath to compose himself. “Grew up bilingual,” he offers.

Southern drawl with a Spanish tongue? Yes, please, you think to yourself. You hum in agreement. He picks up on it. “Ah, I see.”

“Not bilingual, though,” you clarify with a smirk, mainly to test out just how turned on he’ll get at the prospect of your tongue being versed in a variety of ways.

One hand of his tightens as if he’s trying to really hold onto the string that’s keeping his self control at bay.

You sit and think for a minute. You grew up in a mixed ethnic household, so you have a few options you could choose to reveal right now, but there’s one in particular that you know will make him snap.

The waiter hands the bill directly to Joel. He’s writing down the tip and total as he murmurs to you, “What else do you know?” The waiter comes back and offers you both pleasantries and bids you goodnight, in Italian to you and English to Joel.

You lift your napkin up off your lap and begin to stand. He starts, but freezes as soon as you begin to speak, “Bueno,” you breathe out. “Me encantó la comida, pero tenemos que ir a la casa, ¿qué piensas?” (Well, I loved the food, but we have to go home, what do you think?) You begin to walk in the direction of the exit, but you don’t feel his warmth radiating from you, so you turn back around. He’s sitting back down at the edge of the seat. You go back to him and put your hand on his shoulder. “Joel…you okay?”

“Yep,” he says strained, “Just, uh- need a minute.” Both his hands are situated on his knees and he’s leaning over a little. Your eyes drift to in between his thighs and god damn he’s hard. Painfully hard. His bulge is so big it has you holding back a whimper at the sight of it.

You can’t help but make this situation worse for him, it’s in your nature. So you bring your mouth down to his ear and in a low whisper, “Faster we get into the car, the faster I can take care of that for you, big boy.”

He stands at full height now, his body completely flush and towering over you. He takes one look at you and his hands are on your waist, spinning you around and guiding you to the car without a word.

You can feel yourself walking faster than you’ve ever done in your life, and thank Heavens you do because as soon as you reach the car, he wastes no time in turning you around and pinning you between the driver’s side door and his body.

His lips meet yours in a frenzy, it’s a clash of hot breath and tongue, and you take all of him in fervently. His tongue passes over yours in a way that has your knees buckling. He clocks it immediately and before you know it, his thick thigh is slotted between yours, nudging your core. You moan into his mouth at the pressure, and he pulls away to grab your jaw, forcing your attention onto him. “Gonna give me another one, baby?”

“Joel-” you start, but he cuts you off. “You’re gonna give me another one, right here, right on my fuckin’ thigh,” he demands, his grip on your jaw tightening with his words, “Am I understood?”

You nod your head frantically as much as his grip allows you, followed by a “Fuck, fuck, yes, Joel, yes, I understand,” and your hips start moving on their own accord. “That’s it,” he chuckles, eyes blown out in his arousal for you. One hand wraps around your waist while the other bunches the front of your dress so he can see the mess you’re creating on him.

If anyone were to walk by right now, they would get a full view of your sobbing cunt rubbing all over his dressed thigh. It’s lewd, it’s pornographic, and it would definitely get you arrested for indecent exposure and disorderly conduct. And even though those reasons should be enough for you to stop what you’re doing and tell Joel you want to just get home first (which he’d be more than willing to oblige to for your comfort), you don’t want to. The prospect of someone walking by to witness what this hunk of a man can reduce you down to is enough to push you to the edge that much faster.

He slightly rocks his thigh back and forth in time with the grind of your hips, the now wet fabric catching enticingly on your clit. Joel’s grip on your waist tightens, encouraging more pressure into you. He lets go of your dress to slip his fingers in between your cunt and his thigh, adding more stimulation to the bundle of nerves as he pushes himself into you to meet you in another wet kiss. His lips leave your mouth and make its way down your jaw to just below your ear, and he bites. Hard. The searing sensation mixed with everything else makes your vision go white, and you’re literally creaming all over his black dress pants. He soothes that part of your neck with more sucking and licking as your hips come to a halt, his fingers still rubbing slowly, ever so often teasing them at your entrance.

Your full weight is leaned against his truck, and the only reason you’re still standing right now is because of his hold on you. He knows this, so keeping his one arm around your waist, he slowly pulls away from you to bend down and bring his other arm under your knees. He picks you up and cradles you to the front seat of his truck. He sets you down gently, buckles you in, and before he steps away to the driver side, he uses his pointer and thumb to nudge your chin up to his level, and he kisses you so sweetly, the butterflies in both your bellies fluttering like crazy at the feeling. “I can’t get enough of you,” he whispers.

“Then take me home, cowboy.”

✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Ironically enough, your car ride back to your apartment is filled with the sweetness of each other’s presence, your main conversation of getting to know each other from dinner picking back up. The first few minutes of pulling out of the parking lot and getting onto the main road was you bringing yourself back down from your orgasmic high. You wanted to take care of Joel, so that’s what you started to do as soon as you gained your consciousness again, but he stopped you.

“Trust me, darlin’, I want you to so fuckin’ bad,” he says as he regretfully puts your hand back on the middle console and engulfs your hand in his. “But, at least, for tonight, I need to get you off before I do.”

You look at him even though he can’t meet your gaze. The gesture is heartwarming, you’ve never had anyone like this before. And although pleasing your partner is equally as pleasing for you, you don’t argue—but you are confused. “You did get me off, though…three times already?”

He smirks and meets your eyes for a moment before turning back. “That was just your appetizer, baby,” he lifts your hand up to his mouth and leaves a kiss to the back of it.

Your eyes go wide, “Oh,” you squeak out. You can’t help the giggle that escapes you, “Okay then.”

✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

As soon as he parks, he’s out of the car in an instant, opening your door and guiding you out again. You walk up to your door, fumbling for your keys to unlock it. He’s behind you, lips hungrily kissing up and down your neck and your shoulder. As soon as you get it open, you turn around to face him, your lips smashing into his and tugging him into the house as you walk backwards towards the direction of the nearest piece of furniture possible. He kicks your door shut and swiftly locks it, his one hand only leaving you for an unnoticeable second.

You were trying to lead him to your living room, but somehow you ended up crashing into your dining table. He doesn’t care though because his hands are grabbing at your hips, hoisting you up. He breaks the contact with your lips and you whine at the loss, but immediately he’s kneeling. Third time today, you think to yourself, could definitely get used to this view.

“Told ya, I needed to taste you for real, sweet girl,” he says as he runs his hands up your thighs. “Spread your legs, baby.”

You gather the front of your dress and let it pool beside you, your bottom half completely bare to him. You spread your legs and bring your hips to the very edge, your core completely at his mercy. His eyes grow completely black at the view, your wetness dripping out of you.

He secures his hands at your hips, borderline grasping at the globes of your asscheeks, and your thighs hooked on his shoulders. He leaves warm, open-mouth kisses up your thigh, alternating between both. Once he reaches your sex, you realize there is absolutely no stopping him until he’s had his fill. Your one hand stays behind on the dining table to hold you up while the other flies to the back of his head, gripping the curls at the base of his neck.

You’ve never felt anything like this before. His plush lips kissing every place vulnerable to you with such a velvety sensation, his tongue pushing into you and nudging areas you didn’t know a tongue could reach, and his nose—My God, his fucking nose—providing life-altering sensation directly on your clit.

The only noises in your apartment are the sounds of his slurping mixed with your high-pitched moans and occasional dirty praise, and you’re sure your neighbors can hear you, but you’re feeling way too fucking good to even care about that right now.

“Just like that, fuck-” your hips start grinding into his face, “-shit, you feel so fucking good, Joel, yes!” You gasp out as his rhythm changes, forcing you to the edge for the fourth time tonight.

He pulls you in impossibly closer and shoves his face impossibly deeper, and at that moment, your orgasm crashes into you. Your arm that was holding you up gives way and you fall back into the dining table, back arching while your thighs tighten around Joel’s head. The feeling of being completely consumed by you eggs him on so much that he can’t bring himself to stop. He continues devouring you like his life depends on it, his moans and whines vibrating you deep within. You don’t know if it’s another orgasm hitting you or an aftershock from the one you just had, but all you know is that your ass is completely off the dining table and he’s holding you into his face drinking every last drop.

You use all your strength to pull yourself back up, both your arms behind you to hold you up. You try and scoot your ass back onto the table, but Joel is still gripping onto you, spoiling the entire area with slow, deep kisses. He gives extra attention on your thighs, sucking bruises that’ll flourish through the night. Loving the sensation but not loving the way your ass is hitting against the table, you softly call his name with a smile full of adoration, “Let’s take this to my room, maybe?”

He stands to his full height while scooting you back to be able to sit properly again. His smile mirrors yours. He grabs your face with both his hands and pulls you in for a kiss. It’s soft at first, but tasting yourself on him is a taste you don’t think you’ll ever tire of. Your tongue caresses his bottom lip, and he opens, pulling you in, his tongue embracing yours in an all-consuming dance.

Your hands begin to roam at his sides, making your way to the buttons of his dress shirt, and it’s then that he pulls away, remembering the question you asked. “Wait, wait,” he says. He opens your legs a little more so he can step in between. His hands are underneath you once again, and he nudges you forward, wordlessly telling you to wrap your legs around his waist. So you do, and he picks up, chuckling at the squeal you let out when your body reaches the air, and he leads you to your bedroom.

He lets you plop onto the edge of the bed and get yourself situated in the center. He finishes what you started and starts undressing himself. His shirt is the first to go, unbuttoning, untucking, and letting it fall to a random place on your floor. Looking down at you ready for him, he takes a step closer, unbuckling his belt, pulling them out of the loops, letting it follow the same path as his shirt.

He’s been catching the way you’ve been admiring all day, so he indulges in your fantasy a little in the way he undresses himself for you. With every article that gets removed, he watches your eyes grow hungrier, your breathing heavier. You’re too occupied at the sight of his body, you don’t make any move to pull your dress off, but that’s okay. Joel wants to be the one to unwrap his dessert.

Joel removes his pants and boxers in one go, and you let out an involuntary gasp at the sight in front of you. He is fucking huge. His length isn’t overbearing, but it’s his fucking girth that’s throwing you in for a loop. Your anxiety starts to rise a little; you have never been with a man as well-endowed as Joel and no strap-on you’ve taken could ever resemble what you’re about to take right now.

You fell into your overthinking, not realizing that Joel has made his way over you. He grounds you with a kiss, stealing all your worries. He grazes his finger over your forehead, pushing a hair away. The action makes you melt. Oh, there goes the butterflies, again. He guides your head to angle down to kiss your forehead, then your nose, and back to your lips once more. He makes sure your eyes are on each other before he says, “We do not have to do anything more if you are not ready, sweet girl.”

He’s been pretty dominating all night, which you don’t mind at all, but this coming out of his mouth at the fire of your anxieties completely distinguishes them. You know you’re safe with him. Your eyes tear up and before you speak, you snake your hand to the back of his neck and yank him into you for another kiss. As he pulls away, a tear falls, but his thumb catches it.

“I trust you, Joel, I need you,” you say as you lean into the warmth of his hand, “Please.”

“Sit up for me real quick then, darlin’,” he says, sitting back on his haunches and pulling you up with him. His hands find the hem of your silky dress, and he slowly guides it up your thighs, up your torso, and you lift your arms off so he can guide it off completely. Now it’s his turn to admire. It’s as if his eyes don’t know where to look first: at your luscious thighs, your beautiful tummy, your full chest. “You’re so perfect,” he whispers, not meant for you to really hear, but it makes you flutter all the same.

“Lay down for me, baby,” he says as he continues admiring you. You lay back down again, reaching your arm up to drag the pillow below your head. You spread your legs, inviting him in, letting him know you’re ready. But what he does next absolutely surprises you. He grabs your leg at the ankle and lays kisses everywhere. Up your calf, the bend of your knee, all around your thigh in the areas he marked earlier. He reaches your mound and makes no move to dive in. Instead, he lays kisses in the area, even a kiss is placed directly on your clit. You moan at the feeling. He mirrors his actions on your other leg. Then, he bends forward and begins kissing your tummy. Kisses in the general vicinity of your belly button, your ribs, making his way up your sternum.

Granted, your body is buzzing in arousal right now, and you’re making a puddle in your sheets, but mentally, the way he is appreciating your body has you feeling utterly content.

Your hand finds its home again in his neck just as Joel reaches your breasts. He continues his journey and kisses all around, his tongue swirling around your nipples. Your back arches at this, and you feel him smile against you as his hands wrap around your ribs, his thumbs caressing underneath your boobs. His mouth makes its way to your neck.

His mouth transitions to longer, wetter kisses, leaving trails of spit on the valley of your breasts and on your neck. The cooling of his spit coaxes a whimper out of you, wanting more of him. Wanting to drink him. His mouth finally meets yours and it’s slow but desperate, your hips lifting to meet his at an attempt for any kind of relief. His tongue massages yours and you can feel the spit build up; you eagerly try and lap it up.

You pull him away for a moment, slightly bashful to ask, but you need it so bad. “C-can you…” your gaze slips from his. His hand on your rib comes up to rest on the lower part of your neck, his fingertips grazing your jaw but also softly guiding you to look at him again. His eyebrow quirks up at you. Go on, he’s telling you. “Can you, uh- I-” you completely fumble. “Words, trouble,” he smirks, the nickname eliciting a sense of comfort within you.

“Canyouspitinmymouth, please?” You rush out with your eyes clamped shut, scared of what his reaction would be. He doesn’t say a thing, waiting for you to come to your senses and open your eyes. As soon as you do, he’s on you again, kissing you like before you pulled away to ask your question. Except this time, his fingertips secure themselves on the hinge of your jaw and nudge you open. Your lips but a whisper apart, his spit falling into your mouth, as your tongues’ tips dance around one another.

The moans you let out for him are sounds he never wants to give up. He’ll let you drink him dry if this is what he hears in his last breaths.

He pulls away, a spit string connecting you both. You lean forward, attaching to his bottom lip for a moment more before you let yourself pull away, then you swallow.

“Fuck, that was so hot,” you breathily giggle. He smirks at your antics, leaning in for another kiss to distract you. He reaches for another pillow above your head, and as your kiss becomes more heated, you grind your hips up into him, giving him perfect timing to slot the pillow underneath your lower back.

You pull back, “Wha-” you start to question, but he’s quick to respond. He sits back up for a sec, “It’ll help,” he says, and he brings both your legs into a bent position, like frog legs, in a way. Your confusion immediately fades as you physically feel your pelvic floor open up. Oh.

“I thought you were a contractor, not a chiropractor?” you tease.

“Watch it,” he warns. “You know, I could just,” his fingers graze your glistening entrance, “force it in,” he slips a finger in, slowly. You gasp, teasing demeanor gone in an instant. “No preppin’ this tight little thing,” he pulls his finger completely out, you whine in response. “How ‘bout that?”

A barely audible please escapes your mouth, unsure of what it is you’re begging for, and you feel your pussy clench at his words.

His eyes darken, “Oh, she likes that idea, huh?” He’s leaning over you now, kissing your jaw and neck as he grabs himself by the base and lines his tip up to your warmth. “Maybe next time. Right now, trouble, I’m takin’ my damn time with you.”

He grabs himself by the base and guides himself to your entrance, his other hand at the side of your head. He lets his cock grind against your wet folds for a few moments, covering himself in your earlier climax, and then his tip catches at your entrance. You both let out a sharp gasp at the sensation, and he slowly starts pushing in.

“Oh, fuck,” you let out.

“So fuckin’ tight,” he whimpers, “so fuckin’ good, fuck.”

Your pussy clenches at his tone of desperation, and his one arm moves to situate underneath the curve of your back, accentuating it. He’s halfway in you and the painful yet pleasing stretch of your pussy has you closing your eyes at the sensation.

“Baby, eyes on me, need t’see you,” he says, reaching down to nip your bottom lip. Your eyes shoot open and your brows furrow, your pouty face doing nothing to ease his yearn of just pushing completely in you with no remorse.

Finally he bottoms out, both your hips flush with one another, and being completely engulfed in you like this, he can’t hold out any longer. “Look, doll,” he rasps. His hand beside you snakes underneath your head and he’s lifting it for you to look down. “It’s like you’re made f’me, huh?” He says as he begins to pull out of you until only the tip is in.

Your eyes are fixed on the sight below you. Your pussy absolutely stretched out, his dick completely covered in your juices. You don’t have the mental capacity to form anything coherent. Joel knows that, so giving you no time to acknowledge his filthy words, he pushes inside you again. This time much faster and much harder.

He continues that rough and fast pace for a while, kissing and biting everywhere his mouth can reach, relishing in the constant moans and whimpers spewing from your mouth.

“S-so big,” your voice quivers.

“But you’re takin’ it so well, sweet girl,” he replies, voice husky and strained. He sits up a little to stand on his knees, his pace faltering momentarily. His arm from your waist moves down to the underside of the bend on your knee. He pushes your leg higher, opens you up more. The angle makes you flutter around his cock, and he can’t help but speed up.

“Fuck,” he grits out, “not gonna last with that, sweetheart.”

His hand beside your head moves to rest at the base of your neck, his fingers splayed wide across you, giving him more leverage to rock in and out of you. You feel your body wanting to arch up into him, but the hold he has on you and the angle you’re in gives him complete control over you. The thought brings you higher, and you can’t help what spills from your mouth next.

“‘S okay, Joel, p-please,” you moan, “Use me, use my pussy, daddy.”

His hand trails a little higher and now he’s completely wrapped around your neck, his thrusts sloppy, but harder than you’ve ever felt before. “Say that again, sweetheart?” he rushes, hurtling towards his release.

You let both your hands come up to grab ahold of the hand wrapped around your throat. You pulse your grip, hinting at him to squeeze. He gets it, and within seconds, his fingers are right on your pulse points, applying pressure and giving you a yummy dizziness.

Your breath hitches and your voice picks up in pitch, “U-use me, daddy, I want your cum, please.” His other hand reaches for your clit. You gasp out. Immediately then, a lightbulb turns on in your mind, and a dazed smile forms across your face.

“Yeah, baby, that what you want?” he says as his ministrations on your clit picks up, his cock kissing that sweet spot inside of you, over and over again. “Wanna be pumped full of daddy’s cum?”

“Ay, dámelo, papi, dámelo.”

It’s as if you two were really standing on an edge of a cliff, and you pushed him off with just your words. He roars out an addictive moan, and his release coats your walls. The warmth flooding in you and the pulse of his cock mixed with his fingers still circling, and you’re getting pushed off the cliff with him. His fingers begin to slow, and he’s letting go of your throat. He leans back over you to meet your lips, and you take him in. Quite sloppily, though, you’re doing the best you can with the feeling of his hips still slowly rocking into you, the overstimulation milking both of you for all that you’re worth.

You both stay like that for a few minutes longer, basking in the softness of him on your lips, inside you.

But then immediately he pulls away — and pulls out. You both hiss at the feeling.

“Shit! Fuck, I’m sorry-” he starts blabbering, but you cut him off with a finger on his lips.

“Hey, hey, hey, breathe,” you say as you take a deep breath for him to mirror, “What’s going on?”

He takes a deep breath and repeats himself, calmer this time. “I’m sorry, I didn’t ask where you wanted-” he gestures to his cum beautifully dripping from your entrance, “I know how risky that was- and we didn’t even use protection, I-” his panic starting to rise again.

You put your hand on his sternum and put a little pressure, figuring if your anxiety sits there, it’s worth a shot to see if that’s where his sits, too. It does. He looks down at your hand and back up at you, kind of shocked but not more than the situation at hand to question how you know that would help.

“A few things,” you say as you keep your hand on him. “One, I never stopped you, we both took the risks. Two, luckily enough for the both of us, I’m on the pill.” He smiles at that. “And three, even if I wasn’t on the pill” you continue, “I wouldn’t mind picking up a Plan B if it meant I got to feel you like that inside of me again…” your voice trails off and immediately he pulls your hand away from his front up to his mouth to press several kisses on your palm, bursting in lighthearted laughter, his anxiety fading away.

✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You and Joel laid in bed, tangled up in each other, for a little while longer, but he could sense the mess started to make you a little uncomfortable. He pulled both you and him off your bed, guiding you with his hands on your hips but ultimately letting you take the lead to your bathroom.

He guides you to your toilet and starts scouring your bathroom to find your washcloths. Once he does, he soaks it in warm water, and falls down to your level, so he can clean you. You reach out to grab the washcloth, thinking you’re gonna be the one doing it, but he’s quick to swat your hand away with a smile. He asks softly, “May I?”

Your eyes meet his, and all you can see is a genuine softness and a genuine yearn to take care of you. It makes you breathless. “Yeah,” you return his softness.

Being the pretty kinky and adventurous person that you were, aftercare always existed for you. Albeit, some of your past partners were more tender than others, but none of them treated you in a way that made you feel like you two were endgame. There’s something about Joel and the way he can be so soft, warm, and appreciative. He’s so experienced and considerate that you know he’s probably had his fair share of lovers in his past, but the way he treats you makes you feel like everything back then was solely leading him to this very moment. Like he spent years searching, and now that he’s found you, he needs to make sure what’s his is truly being taken care of in the way it deserves.

The thought and his actions should scare you, but they don’t.

There are people who spend years dating each other, still trying to figure out if they’re meant to be. There are married couples filing for divorce because they learned that they weren’t for each other after all.

There are others who get married after six months because they just know. Then, there’s you and Joel. Obviously you’re not going to marry him tomorrow but as you sit here, letting him care for you in such a way you’ve never felt before, you feel it. The rightness. The belonging. He’s gonna be in your life for a long, long time, and one of the most important people in your life at that. You don’t say any of this, though. You can’t. It’s too soon.

So, for now, you’ll just let your actions speak louder than words, and show him just how much you need him in your life.

“I’m cooking for us next time,” you say, pulling Joel from his own thoughts.

“Okay,” he says without a second thought. Unbeknownst to you, he was thinking the exact same thing as you.

He feels it, too, and just like you, for now, he’ll let his actions speak louder than his words.

He reaches over and plops the washcloth into the sink, his eyes on you.

“Only if we christen the dining table before dinner.”

Your eyes widen and your cheeks go hot.

Yeah, you are absolutely fucked. And so is he.

I hope you guys enjoyed!🥹 As always, feedback, comments, reblogs, etc. is extremely appreciated! Thank you to every single one of you for welcoming me with open, loving arms. I'm giving all of you forehead smooches right now. I love you all. So much.

EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!

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hunny-beann · 10 months ago

Text

Worship; Devastation

Loki Laufeyson x f!Reader

Synopsis: Prince Loki gets some ideas regarding worship upon witnessing his lover in the particularly ethereal lighting of his bathing quarters...

And honestly, what is worship if not laying your utterly devastating touch upon your lover just to watch them unfurl before you?

Or, alternatively:

Devotion, reverence, and veneration at the hands of a god in 3,800 words or less

Note: Welcome back to the smut fest! Similarly to my last Loki smut fic, I also wrote a great deal of this one very early in the morning, so my apologies for any errors that I didn't manage to spot and edit out. I hope you enjoy! :)

Warnings: Semi graphic NSFW, vulgarity, fingering, oral sex (f receiving)

She sat, naked as the day she she had been born, upon the edge of the royal bathing pool reserved solely for her beloved, the warm water lapping gently at her ankle as she leaned back on her forearms, right knee bent so one foot rested on the rune etched lip of the younger prince's extravagant bath.

It felt very Loki indeed, to have bathing quarters that seemed far more like a swimming pool than a tub, and she relished in the energy of the space, each detail reminding her of the man who floated gracefully in the waters just beneath her.

If her eyes were not closed at that very moment, she was certain that she would be unable to help but stare at him, not with the distracting way that his hair splayed out upon the surface of the water, or that his skin all but shone in the morning sun that doused the two of them from the skylight above.

This was not her first morning bath with him, far from it in fact, but as she basked in the sunlight, she still felt herself jump when a familiar hand wrapped around the ankle that dangled within the water, her eyes flying open to find his stunning blues already awaiting her gaze.

And oh, what a sight he made.

There he was, Prince Loki of Asgard, God of Mischief, entirely bare within the warm waters of his bath, and submerged to his upper arms, revealing his strong shoulders, angular jaw, and sharp collar bones, all of which dripped almost tantalizingly with slow moving droplets of water, which clung to his skin in a manner that nearly made her jealous of them.

He looked up at her with an earnest curiosity and something that almost bordered on vulnerability, his grip loosening but not quite fading from her ankle as his thumb began to stroke the flesh just above where the water ceased to lap at her.

Eager to find out what had caught the attention of her lover, she leaned forward, placing her hand atop his own as she tilted her head in a silent question that she soon vocalized in spite of her subtle gestures.

"Is there something wrong, dear prince?"

She asked, her voice quiet and with an almost breathless quality that only seemed fitting for such a peaceful morning.

In reply, Loki simply placed his free hand on the lip of the bath and used that as leverage to pull himself ever closer to her, his other detaching from its wrapped position around her ankle so he could move it upward, fingertips craving the feeling of more of her soft skin beneath them.

Meanwhile, she watched him with a curiosity of her own, taking in with a vast gratitude unknown to the man just beneath her the details of his person, from the freckles that dotted his cheeks and nose, to those that rested upon his shoulders, all the way up to the curve of his brow and the way that his black locks looked when slicked back from both the water and the way he had inevitably run his hands through them.

"Not quite."

Loki answered, his voice low and still slightly thickened by his semi-recently halted slumber, though those eyes of his swam with a subtle amusement that betrayed how much he and his lover's conjoined time in the bathing quarters had energized him.

"I simply desired to ensure that I wasn't still dreaming."

He continued, expression remaining slightly awe-filled as he looked up at her from the waters not far below, his once less occupied hand coming to rest upon her previously bent leg, which was now lowered alongside the other into the water as she continued to sit upon the bath's edge, his fingers kissing her damp flesh with a well known gentleness that had her sighing out softly, a small smile finding her lips.

He watched her with such fondness, such peace that not so long ago, she would have thought was entirely unknown to him, and he had believed he would never find nor understand.

How wrong they had been.

And how grateful they were for that fact now that they each knew the touch of the other, the love of them.

And as she looked into her darling prince's eyes she was reminded of that love, even as she could not help but smile at his familiar dramatics, her hand reaching down to curl some of his hair behind his ear, allowing her touch to linger briefly upon his jaw before she moved back once more.

"And why would you think yourself still slumbering, my dear?"

She wondered aloud, half anticipating a peaceful silence to follow, only to find herself pleased when Loki's all consuming voice filled the room shortly afterward.

"Have you ever seen your love illuminated by a halo of morning sunlight?"

He questioned gently, his hands still creeping ever upward, now resting upon her knees as he awaited her response with a patience that felt foreign to her when acted out by him, though she certainly did not complain.

As her reply to her prince's immensely endearing question, she hummed, watching the way that the sun cast its light upon him in an almost ethereal manner, reminding her once more of his nature.

She smiled,

"I believe that I have. Quite often, in fact."

Loki's expression of adoration continued as he watched her fondly, a slight smile finding his perfect lips, curving them upward in that manner his love adored so ceaselessly.

"I see."

He drawled slowly, fingers massaging slow circles into her lower thighs all the while,

"Then surely you can understand why I've been enraptured so."

He reasoned, placing a gentle kiss to the side of her knee as he watched for her reaction, noting the way that she shivered slightly beneath his touch, still not quite used to him, even after years of his hands lovingly caressing her skin at each and every opportunity.

He selfishly hoped, in that moment, that she might not ever come to be, just so he could continue to bear witness to the way that her body, mind, and soul reacted to his affections forevermore.

In response to Loki's gentle words and teasing ministrations, his love sighed contentedly, her flesh reacting as if chilled in spite of the warm water still lapping at her ankles.

She allowed herself a moment to bask in the closeness of him before reaching to cup his jaw again with a smile, tracing the now abandoned path of a droplet of water that had made its way from his hair down to the bridge of his nose, where it had spilled over the side and ran along his cheekbone before ultimately losing momentum and fading to nothingness in the warmth of sunlight, leaving only a faint shimmer of dampness in its wake.

She watched him for a few moments, eyes looking fearlessly and familiarly into those ever softening blues until finally, she spoke up once more, seemingly having gotten her fill of the peaceful silence.

"I suppose that I can, yes."

She replied to his previous statement, fingers moving from his cheek down to his jaw where they traced the sharpness of it gently, as if afraid it might truly cut, or perhaps as a woman in love might do to the object of her affections.

Perhaps so, indeed.

The younger prince hummed happily in response to her touch, something akin to a purr rumbling deep in his chest as he pushed as close as to her as he could manage, both hands moving to her knees in order to place the backs of them upon his muscular shoulders, thus allowing him to them wrap his arms around them from below, his long and lithe fingers finding firm purchase upon her thighs as he did so, pulling her ever closer to the edge of the bathing pool,

closer to him.

And though he was certain that she had noticed, his darling did not complain, simply watching Loki with an amused gleam in her eye as he leaned his head against her thigh, expression almost dreamy as he watched her, taking in the vision of beauty that she was, now doused fully in the morning sunlight.

"Perfection."

He murmured gently, fingers dancing upon her skin as he pressed kiss after kiss to the thigh on which his head rested. And though she felt his smile as he did so, growing almost imperceptibly with each individual graze of his lips, she did not know why until he pulled away from her ever so slightly.

"Although,"

He began to say upon doing just that, eyes finding hers once more, allowing her to see the familiar sparkle of mischief that shone there,

"I do believe this means we have a problem, darling."

His voice was all but a purr now, low and rumbling with a certain level of mock concern to it that made his dearest love flounder slightly, gaze locked with his own as if the two of them were in contest with one another for who could see into the other's soul first.

Not that she could ever stand a chance, not against him.

"You see,"

Loki continued, both sets of his fingers pressing into the supple skin of her thighs as he massaged his way upward, eyes never leaving hers all the while, her body having long since been memorized by his hands.

"Perfection is meant to be worshiped."

He murmured, moving his head slightly to press a kiss to her opposite thigh before he pinched at the former deftly, causing his lover to gasp and jump slightly beneath him, a blush growing evident upon her cheeks.

He chuckled at her reaction, humming low in his throat as he continued to press his soft lips to her flesh, allowing them to linger long enough that there was no question of what his touch was meant to convey.

Gentleness, affection, love, desire, and a constant and heady hunger, one that all but drove him to madness each time he laid eyes upon his beloved.

Her breaths shuddered in response to his persistent touch, and she allowed their locked gazes to break as she leaned her head back upon her shoulders, fingers gripping tightly to the lip of the pool as she did her best to find her voice once more, having lost it upon the very moment his lips had pressed against her, as she always did.

"Are you saying that you wish to worship me, Prince Loki?"

She breathed out after several long seconds of silence, chest heaving slightly as she finally allowed her eyes to open once more, finding his almost immediately as he smirked against her upper thigh, his hands having moved to massage the outsides of them soothingly, keeping them poised atop his shoulders so he could control just how spread they remained for him.

He shook his head in response to her words, tutting slightly before nipping where she had expected him to present her with a kiss, causing her to gasp yet again as he chuckled and lapped gently at her soft flesh with that typically oh so sharp tongue of his.

"Oh no, dear heart."

He purred, spreading her thighs even wider in order to gain a proper view of her arousal, knowing all too well the blush that was no doubt ravaging her cheeks just outside of his view in response.

He leaned in further, ignoring the urge to lay his gaze upon her disastrously beautiful face as he pressed a gentle kiss to her bare heat, smirking to himself as he felt her begin to tremble impatiently as he did so.

He had spoiled her throughout the years, after all, never one to make her wait when she made her desire for him so plainly known. And he was truly quite proud of what a mess he had made of her once so vast patience, because what else did that show if not how wonderfully he'd treated her? How high he'd set her standards simply by virtue of ravaging her at nearly every available opportunity?

She was all but ruined for anyone else, that was for certain.

And if the prince had his way (as he so frequently did), that would never even come close to changing.

He laughed softly against her as he continued, his tongue moving up and down the outsides of her folds as he teased her relentlessly, always so eager to see her squirm at least a little before he gave her what she wanted.

He was not, after all, known for being the kindest nor the most merciful god,

And he could never quite resist the urge to remind his lover of that fact, even if just for a moment or two.

And that he did, ignoring her increasing number of quiet pleas as he pressed onward, spreading her wider before him as he separated her glistening folds to find the treasure that lied just within, which he teased without mercy until her legs shook upon his shoulders and her hands started to scramble for purchase atop the marble adorned floors of his bathing quarters.

Then, and only then, as she so plainly became a quivering mess before him, did he finally meet her gaze once more, relishing the look of her glazed over eyes, heaving chest, and slightly parted lips with a truly immense sense of pride.

The vision of her like this all for him was always so very worth the wait, and he thanked the stars that he had been blessed with enough patience to manage it (at least on occasion).

And then finally, as he saw her eyes begin to focus and felt her body relax ever so slightly beneath the coaxing of his still massaging hands, he spoke up again, answering his darling's long since abandoned question with a taunting amount of ease.

"I do not wish to worship you,"

He began, grinning wolfishly up at her as he pinched at those supple thighs once more, dragging his fingers achingly close to where she no doubt desired them without ever even considering the idea of going easy on her just yet.

No, not when he still had so much left to say.

He let a heavy silence fill the bathing quarters for a moment, broken up only by the sounds of his love's breathing and the dripping of water from behind him, always present and typically soothing in the normal circumstances of his morning bath.

Though today, he paid them no mind,

He had no need to be calmed, after all.

And then finally, just as his dearest love started to bite her lip in an effort to keep from pleading with her prince to give her more, he continued, bringing a finger up to circle her entrance as he did so, allowing him to revel in the sight of her arching her back for him, pressing ever closer in spite of the all too real threat of tumbling into the water alongside him.

She'd had very little desire to get wet that morning according to the excuse she had given him earlier on when asked through pouting lips why she would not join her lover in the bath.

Though, Loki supposed, it seemed as if he had ruined any goal she had of staying dry long ago, so perhaps she cared far less for such trivialities now.

He did not bother to ask, and instead chose to continue his now well drawn out statement from before.

"You see, my dear,"

He started, gathering some of her wetness onto his middle finger as he continued, enjoying the sounds of her whimpering beneath him far too much for his own well-being, let along hers.

"It is much more of a need, I'm afraid."

He purred softly, a false pout finding his lips even as he pushed his finger into her slick entrance, fighting back a groan as she all but sucked him in, always so ready to take whatever it was that he was willing to give her.

He chuckled as she cried out in response, her head falling back to her shoulders once more as he began to pump a single long and dexterous finger in and out of her ceaselessly, adding in a second just as she started to wiggle her hips in that silent request for more.

"What a good girl you are."

He cooed teasingly, watching while she shivered at the sound of his voice, eyes squeezed shut as she fought to stave off an embarrassingly quick orgasm in response to his ministrations.

He had only just taken her this morning, after all, so how could she ever hope to look him in the eye again if she came so quickly even just after he had taken her upon his mattress?

Still, the prince had every intention of showing her exactly how helpless she was to his every touch, and rather than letting up when seeing her obvious attempts to hold back from letting go for him, he increased the speed of his fingers instead and crooked them upward slightly until he heard her gasp and felt her thighs tighten around his head from where they still resided atop his strong shoulders.

"Oh dear,"

He murmured, feigning surprise as he watched his beloved struggle not to simply give into her pleasures.

"Close already?"

He teased, watching her expression as she whined and writhed for him, his fingers never letting up even as he stretched her further upon adding a third, the feeling of which sent her mind reeling.

He was so good at this, too good, and who was she to deny a prince of what he wanted? Could she truly hope to?

Loki evidently thought not, and remained persistent, pacing his thrusts and ensuring that he was constantly hitting just the right spots inside of her, never one to give a lackluster performance, even so very early in the morning and so soon after his last.

Speaking of which...

"Even after this morning?"

He crooned, continuing his recent thought with even more mock surprise,

"Are you truly so sensitive, my love?"

He asked curiously, just barely holding back a groan as he watched the woman he adored so achingly arch her back even further, pressing ever closer to him, body so very eager to submit, and mind evidently not too far behind.

What a darling sight she made for, laid out and bare before him.

Now all that he had to do, Loki thought with a smirk, was strip her of her pride.

And of course, the best way to do that, was to remind her of exactly who it was that she belonged to, and just how helpless she was to his touch.

"Or, perhaps, is it something else?"

He questioned, leaning down to lick teasingly at her clit as she hissed and whined pitifully in reply, thighs trembling upon his shoulders all the while.

It was a telltale sign that she was close, though he chose not to tease her for that quite yet.

"Could it be your courses?"

Loki teased, knowing all too well exactly where his lover was within her cycle in spite of his questioning,

"Or maybe a preference for my fingers?"

He continued, watching as his darling cried out for him, eyes brimming with tears of pleasure as she grew closer and closer to the edge of bliss.

He chuckled, and, after a moment of thought, decided it was high time that he ended his charade for the time being.

"Or, my dear."

He began, groaning slightly as he felt her clench around his fingers in a way that made his engorged cock envious of their position, his mind suddenly filled with thoughts of her strangling his erection with her tight heat, her body always so eager to pull him in further and keep him there, begging for both of their releases.

Still, even with such rapturous visions flooding his mind, he managed to continue speaking, determined to remind her of why it was that she could cum so very quickly even so soon after their last tryst.

"Could it simply be how weak you are to my every touch?"

He purred, his voice devastatingly low and his eyes trained on hers as he spoke,

"How desperate you are,"

He continued, thrusting his fingers harder just to hear her cry out from beneath him,

"To feel my hands upon your flesh, and to hear my voice as I fuck you with whatever I so please into oblivion. Is that what it is?"

He growled, watching with immense pride as she threw her head back one final time upon hearing his words, her walls clenching around his fingers as she came hard only minutes after he had begun, encouraging a chuckle from her lover soon afterward when he finally pulled away, bringing his hand up to his mouth to fully taste her for the first time that morning as he gazed deep into her eyes, a moan of pleasure falling eagerly off of his lips all the while.

She blushed in response to this, but did not look away, her pride still just intact enough that she refused to let him get the better of her once more.

Loki remained like that for several rather long moments, savoring the taste of her until his fingers were clean, finally prompting him to remove them from his mouth so he could speak to her once more, though his words were no less teasing then than they'd been before.

"So, my darling."

He began, smirking as he rested his hand upon her thigh again,

"Do you have any qualms with me continuing to worship my dearest love upon this fine morning?"

He purred, his eyes lighting up eagerly when she swallowed thickly, shaking her head no in response just as he tightened his grip upon her legs.

"Perfect."

Loki replied casually, a glint of mischief entering his gaze once again just as a smirk fell to his lips.

And then, with a gentle tug, his love was falling into the water alongside him, pressed not long after to the wall of the bathing pool as his aching and engorged cock rubbed against her, all too eager to finally settle the score his fingers had recently turned in their favor.

It was no matter of course, they had all morning after all.

And an eternity after that.

Tags: @mischief2sarawr @ladymischief11 @lokisgoodgirl @superficialdomina @muddyorbsblr @villainousshakespeare @redfoxwritesstuff @buttercupcookies-blog

Note: If you would like to be added to/removed from being tagged in anything please feel more than free to let me know! <3

#loki x reader #loki x reader smut #loki smut #lokismut #loki laufeyson x reader #loki odinson x reader #loki laufeyson x reader smut #loki x yn #loki x yn smut #loki odinson #loki x female reader #loki x female reader smut #loki marvel #loki x fem reader #loki fanfiction #loki laufeyson smut #loki x you #loki oneshot

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daisies-daydreams · 4 months ago

Note

Hey Daisy 💕💕

So your bio says your requests are open and I don’t remember you closing them but if they are, I’m so sorry, feel free to ignore this-

So I was thinking about Venom!Miguel and this goofy, high energy, upbeat reader who’s always giggling and smiling, even when Miggy’s being an ass

I just wanna req some fluff leading up to some smut, not slow slow burn but some build up where reader confesses to him and he’s like “wait what?” etc.

All the love for you sweetness

- 🪶

Me & U (Venom!Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader)

Pairing: Venom!Miguel x F!Reader Category: Fluff/Smut (with a pinch of angst) Tags: Miggy being an asshole, Swearing, Slight Slapstick, Love Confessions, Making Out, Monster Fucking (?), Oral Sex (F!Receiving - Venom/Miguel uses his tongue 😛), Nipple Play, Dirty Talk, Pet Names, Innuendo, Couch Sex, Mentions of Birth Control, Unprotected P in V Sex (you know the drill), Doggy Style, Missionary Position, Slight Bondage, Multiple Orgasms, Creampie Word Count: 5k+ 18+ Banner by @cafekitsune A/N: Ugh, I love love love writing for Venom! characters 🤭🫠 Thank you for your sweet words love and I hope you enjoy! Song Suggestion: Me & U (Cassie)

Your eyes instantly lit up when your neighbor, Miguel O’Hara, opened his door.

“Hi, Miguel!” you chirped happily, nearly dropping the Tupperware of soup in your hands. You gasped before two strong hands cupped beneath yours. Heat filled your cheeks as you slowly gazed up, your noses so close they nearly brushed against each other. Miguel cleared his throat before he quickly stood up, his shadow casting over your entire body.

“Is that for me?” your neighbor asked in his usual gruff voice as he cocked a brow. It took you a few seconds for his words to register. Were his eyes always ruby red? Oh my God...he is a vampire?! That would be so hot, well, hotter than-

"Hello? (Y/N)," your neighbor called before snapping his fingers. You shook your head.

“Hm? Oh! Yes, this is for you,” you grinned and shifted the Tupperware in your arms. “I just thought I'd give you some of my homemade chicken noodle soup. I made too much and didn't want it to go to waste," you explained as you held the Tupperware out to him. Miguel raised his brows as he glanced down, his rough fingertips grazing over yours as he took the soup with an exhausted expression.

"Thanks," he simply replied. You gave him a bright grin as your heart skipped a beat.

"You're welcome! I was also wondering if-"

You flinched when he suddenly slammed the door in your face. You continued to hold your finger up as your smile remained.

"...you wanted to go see a movie," you murmured out the last part. Your grin faltered a bit as you started to trudge back to your apartment, your footsteps feeling a bit heavier than before...

+++

“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT!?” Venom rumbled inside Miguel’s head. The massive man tensed when the Symbiote suddenly spoke.

"What?" he blinked. Venom grumbled.

"YOU JUST SLAMMED THE DOOR IN HER FACE!" the alien nearly screeched. Miguel grimaced as he set the Tupperware in the fridge, the corners of his mouth turned down as he felt his blood pressure rise.

"She knows I'm busy - I'm sure she understands," the man replied as he closed the fridge door. Venom scoffed.

"YOU WOULD THINK THAT A GROWN-ASS HUMAN WOULD HAVE SOME DECENT MANNERS," the Symbiote huffed. Miguel clenched his jaw. “YOU SHOULD GO APOLOGIZE,” Venom added. The corners of Miguel’s mouth curved down as he pinched his brows.

“Like I’m gonna let myself get lectured by a vulgar, carnivorous parasite,” he grunted. Miguel gasped as his head shot forward and slammed against the fridge. The man hissed and rubbed the aching spot on his forehead.

“OOPS,” Venom snickered. Miguel sighed and shook his head, his forehead still pulsating with pain.

“Damn symbiote,” he muttered as he rummaged through his cabinets for some ibuprofen. Miguel groaned as he chugged some water before popping the pills. A small, brightly colored note caught his eye as he rubbed his temples. He furrowed his dark brows before picking it up, his scarlet eyes scanning over the small piece of paper:

“It's been pretty chilly out - hope this soup helps warm you up!

<3 (Y/N)”

Miguel's pained expression wavered as he clenched his fist.

God, he really was an asshole, wasn't he?

"YES, YOU WERE," Venom commented.

"¡Cállate parásito!" Miguel snapped [Shut up, parasite!].

"JUST BECAUSE YOU SAY IT IN ANOTHER LANGUAGE DOESN'T CHANGE THE MEANING!" the Symbiote growled. Miguel blew him off as he quickly grabbed his coat. "HOLD ON A SECOND - WHERE ARE WE GOING?" the alien questioned. The tall man grabbed his wallet and keys before opening his front door.

"I'm going to go apologize to (Y/N)...but I need to grab something that'll hopefully help me," he stated.

A Half-An Hour Later...

You blinked when you opened your door.

“Miguel?” you asked. The man’s eyes widened as he gazed upon your face mask.

“I-uh-I’m sorry if I’m interrupting anything,” your neighbor grunted while rubbing the back of his neck. You were thankful the mask hid the blush that dusted your cheeks.

“No! No, it’s okay,” you giggled as you leaned against the doorframe. “What can I do for you?” you continued. You didn’t miss the way Miguel looked you up and down: your body clad in a tight-fitting tank top and comfy shorts. He swallowed thickly before clearing his throat.

“I…I just wanted to give you this,” he said while holding out a white, plastic bag. You raised your brows as you took it from him, your mouth instantly watering as the smell of freshly fried food filled your nostrils.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to do that!” you chirped while reaching forward for a hug. Miguel hesitantly took a step back, his brows scrunched together as he looked away.

“I just…I wanted to say I’m sorry for the way I’ve been acting towards you,” he muttered while rubbing the back of his head. You looked up at your neighbor before glancing down at the bag. It was so adorable seeing a brute of a man acting so sheepishly. Miguel shifted his gaze when you hummed.

“It’s okay, I know work has been super stressful for you,” you replied. His eyes softened as he let his hand fall back to his side. “Still, it’s not excuse for me to act like an asshole towards you,” Miguel sighed. Your smile faltered as you watched him stand there idly. You bit your lip as you clutched the bag.

“You know, it’ll be pretty hard for me to finish all of these things while they're still fresh,” you began. You noticed a small spark in Miguel’s eyes as he tilted his head. “Would you like to come in and have some?” you asked while slightly leaning your hip against the doorframe. His eyes widened slightly as he tensed.

“I don’t want to impose or anything,” Miguel frowned before coughing into his fist. You pursed your lips before giggling.

“Venom, would you like some?” you asked while resting a hand on your other hip. Miguel immediately launched forward, his massive body looming over yours as Venom’s face appeared beside his.

“YOU DON’T HAVE TO ASK US TWICE!” the alien beamed, his glossy, jagged teeth on full display as he flashed you a cheeky grinned. You chuckled and gave his head a small pat, the slick texture of his form not bothering you in the slightest.

“Come on in, then,” you replied while nodding your head inside your apartment.

“WITH PLEASURE,” Venom said as he forced Miguel to stomp into your humble abode. The walls were practically rattling as he clumsily strolled over to your couch and plopped himself down. You chuckled as you followed behind him, setting the bag down on the coffee table.

“Sorry, just gotta freshen up a little bit,” you said while motioning towards your face. Miguel smiled softly and nodded, his demeanor a bit more relaxed as he leaned against the couch cushion.

“Okay. I’ll make sure Venom doesn’t eat everything,” he hummed. You giggled and gave a quick nod before rushing to the bathroom.

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod,” you screamed internally as you sped towards the sink. You washed off the mask as quickly as you could before releasing your hair from its messy bun. You rapidly put on a few strokes of mascara and adjusted your tank-top to show just a bit of your cleavage. You gave a firm nod at your reflection before padding back into the hall. You froze and laughed as you watched Miguel swat at one of Venom’s tendrils as it reached for the bag.

“I see you boys have kept yourselves entertained,” you hummed as you sauntered over to the couch. The dim lighting of your living room lamp drew out Miguel’s rugged features: every curve and dip of his muscles defined by dark shadows and soft light.

“Sorry it took me a bit,” you sighed while sinking into the cushion next to him. You watched as his eyes flicked up and down your body, particularly lingering on your chest.

“You’re fine,” he replied while clearing his throat. You beamed before pulling out the Styrofoam box. The two of you sighed as steam wafted up from the golden empanadas, the crisp texture of the crust already making your stomach rumble.

The room was filled with the sounds of quiet munching before Venom appeared. His maw was curled into his usual grin as he swiped his long, wet tongue across his teeth. You chuckled and held out another pastry, the creature devouring the food in one whole bite. You laughed as crumbs rained onto your lap before the symbiote receded back into his host.

Soon, your bellies were full as the sun dipped past the glowing Nueva York skyline. You squeezed your hands in your lap as you held your breath for a moment.

“Miguel?” you piped up. The tall man beside you grunted, his eyes closed and head tilted back. Despite the bags hanging beneath his eyes, he just looked so peaceful and relaxed for once. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you shifted on your cushion.

“There’s…there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about for a while now,” you continued. He slowly opened his scarlet eyes, his gaze soft and half-lidded as he stared at you.

Oh, God.

You bit in the inside of your cheek as you took a deep breath.

“I…I like you,” you muttered quietly. You felt him shift beside you.

“What was that?” the burly man asked. You felt your throat grow tight as your cheeks burned. You whipped your head over and gazed right into his eyes.

“I-I said that I like you,” you said a bit louder. Miguel’s features softened as he parted his lips. You squirmed beneath his gaze as you squeezed your hands together. Miguel remained quiet by your side. "I know it's sudden, b-but, I just felt like if I didn't say it now, then I would've never gotten it out. I'm sorry," you sighed while averting his gaze. You heard Miguel take another deep breath as he rubbed his hand over his mouth before letting it fall into his lap. He let out a small huff of a chuckle.

"You're gonna be the death of me, you know that?" he said with a lopsided grin. Your eyes widened.

"W-What do you mean?" you breathed. Venom's head suddenly formed by Miguel's shoulder.

"OH FOR GOD'S SAKE! WOULD THE TWO OF YOU JUST FUCK ALREADY?!" the alien whined. Your jaw drop as Miguel's nostrils flared.

"Get back inside me!" he shouted. Venom snickered at Miguel's phrasing, causing the man's cheeks to burn a bright red. "You know what I mean!" he yelled, his voice cracking at the last word.

"WHATEVER YOU SAY, DARLING~" the Symbiote hummed in a sing-song voice before retracting back into Miguel. The man before you rolled his eyes before shaking his head.

"Sorry about that," Miguel said with a tired, apologetic smile. You chuckled and shook your head.

"It's fine," you said with a dismissive hand-wave. You bit your lip.

"So...do you really like me back?" you asked breathlessly. Miguel raised his thick, dark brows as he pursed his lips. He cleared his throat and planted both feet on the floor.

"I...I do," he said with a sideways grin while averting his gaze. You squealed happily and wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a hug. Miguel placed a hand on the small of your back, rubbing it soothingly.

"You have no idea how excited I am! We're gonna go on SO many cute dates. We could take a romantic trip on the Lunar Train - oh! Or have brunch at a beach house in Amagansett-" you began to ramble off a list of dates you imagined with Miguel, not caring if they sounded stupid or not. You blinked when the man by your side gently placed his hand over your mouth, his palm enveloping over the lower half of your face.

"(Y/N), as fun as those things sound...I'd like to maybe start with taking you out to a nice dinner. Would that be alright?" he asked. You nodded, a muffled "mhm" heard beneath his palm. Miguel's smile grew as he slowly withdrew his hand.

"-and we could also go on a rowboat in Central Park," you continued. Miguel laughed and shook his head. "What?" you giggled. The tall man sighed as he slung one of his muscular arms around the back of the couch.

"I've never met anyone who talks as much as you do," he stated. Your smile faltered.

"Is...Is that a bad thing?" you asked while shifting in your seat. Miguel smiled and shook his head.

"No, no. In fact, I think it's pretty endearing hearing someone talk about something they're passionate about," he sighed. You tilted your head as he paused. "That spark you get in your eye...it's what drew me to you in the first place," he confessed while rubbing his chin. Your eyes lit up as you hugged him tightly, causing him to groan.

"I'm just so excited. It's...been a while since I've been in a relationship," you said while tucking some hair behind your ear. Miguel hummed softly.

"Really? How long?" he asked. You froze in place as your eyes widened.

"Oh, hermosa," Miguel cooed, clearly reading through your silent response. You sighed and leaned back, your arms withdrawing from his sides as you frowned. "Hey, look at me," he said softly. You slowly brought your gaze up to his eyes, your heart fluttering as he cupped your cheek. "You're a beautiful, kind woman. I'd be happy to be in a relationship with you," he murmured softly. Your heart melted right there as you gazed into his eyes.

"Really?" you murmured. Miguel smiled and nodded before sucking in a sharp breath.

"Really. And you know..." Miguel trailed off as he shifted on the couch. "Maybe Venom's suggestion from earlier...wasn't terrible," he muttered while tilting his head side to side. Your heart skipped a beat at his words as you squeezed your thighs together.

"You mean, you wanna..." you trailed off and made some gestures with your hands. Miguel nodded slowly as his cheeks continued to fill with pink. You gasped as he shifted even closer to you, his other hand gently cupping your knee.

"I've...I've wanted you for so long. Too long," he sighed softly as he squeezed your knee. "And now, all I want to do is make up for lost time and show you how much I want to be with you...hermosa," Miguel breathed, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear [beautiful]. You arched your back as a shiver ran down your spine.

"Mmm, Miguel, p-please. I want to feel you," you sighed as you squirmed beside him. Miguel grinned softly as he leaned forward and nipped along your jaw.

"Just relax, princesa. I'll make sure to take good care of you," he purred lowly while gently pushing you onto your back and climbing on top of you. Your walls clenched at the sound of his husky rumble, your legs parting on their own as you swallowed thickly. Miguel's large, warm hands dipped beneath your tank-top, his palms eagerly cupping your breasts as you moaned.

"O-Oh," you gasped as he smoothed his thumbs over your perky, sensitive nipples. You bit your lip and mewled as his lips traveled closer to your own, his hips slowly lowering against yours with a deep sigh.

"I can't wait to taste the rest of you, princesa," Miguel groaned before he gently nibbled on your bottom lip. Your fingers smoothed through his thick, dark locks as you parted your lips. The living room was filled with your combined moans as he crashed his plump lips against yours, his hands squeezing your breasts as he slowly rolled his hips against your clothed sex.

"O-Oh fuck Miguel," you panted. Miguel raised his brows as he chuckled lowly.

"I didn't know someone as sweet as you could have such a dirty mouth," he snickered before gently pinching your nipples. You squealed as your mouth shot open. Your eyes widened as Miguel's tongue quickly dove into your wet cavern, his muscle tenderly massaging yours as he rubbed your hardened buds between his digits. Your hungry moans filled his mouth as your tongues passionately danced in circles. Both of you panted heavily as he pulled back for air, your lips glossy with combined spit.

"God, you sound so hot when you make those noises," he grunted before diving back in. You closed your eyes as you soaked in the taste of his tongue against yours, your heart pounding in your ears as you sighed deeply. Miguel groaned as he slowly lifted your shirt above your head, peeling the clothing off before tossing it aside. Your cheeks were flush as he pulled back, his eyes hungrily drinking in the sight of your exposed breasts. You frowned and looked away before he dipped his fingers beneath your chin, turning your face back towards him.

"Please, don't look away. I want to see all of you," he whispered with the softest expression you've ever seen. Your heartbeat faltered as a small smile formed over your face. "Ahí está mi mujer bonita," Miguel chuckled quietly as his fingertips traced along your jaw before dipping between the valley of your breasts [There's my pretty woman].

Your eyes nearly rolled back as your body began to melt at his feather-light touch.

"M-Miguel," you panted breathlessly. Miguel hummed as he gently nipped and kissed along the side of your neck.

"Hm?" he sighed, his hot breath falling over a wet spot on your skin. Your heart pounded against your ribcage as you gulped.

"Can you...can you finger me?" you said with a strained voice. Miguel's eyes widened slightly before he gave you a small smirk.

"Of course, hermosa," he chuckled before suckling on your pulse. Your body jolted at the sweet suction against your skin before he lapped over the fresh hickey. "Do you want me to use my mouth, too?" Miguel whispered. You had to stop a moan escaping your throat as his question shook you to the core.

"Y-Yes please," you whined. Miguel's smirk widened even more.

"You're so polite," he chuckled. You raised your brows and playfully flicked his shoulder. Miguel winced. "Now why would you hurt a gentle giant like me, hm?" the man above you quipped with a raised brow. You giggled and rolled your eyes.

"Watch out - I might spank you if you get sassy again," you winked. Miguel chuckled as he tugged at your pajama shorts.

"Promise, Mami?" he said in a low, husky voice [Mommy]. Your cheeks burned at the petname as you looked away. Miguel's chest rose and fell as he burst out laughing. "Hey, don't dish out what you can't serve," he purred before pulling your thin shorts and panties down your legs. You gasped as your slick pussy was on full display for him. Miguel licked his lips as he leaned his head down.

"W-Wait!" you yelped. His head shot back up as his eyes widened.

"What's wrong, (Y/N)?" he asked as his brows furrowed. You blushed as you held your breath.

"I...I had guys say that I tasted funny, so-" you instantly stopped talking as he shoved his face into your cunt, sniffing it deeply. Your jaw dropped as you felt the tip of his nose nudge against your puffy clit. "W-What are you doing?!" you gulped. You felt him smile against your slick labia before he flicked the tip of his tongue out. Your legs shook around his head as your hips snapped forward.

"Oh my god, you taste so fucking sweet," Miguel groaned before licking a bold stripe up your juicy slit. You moaned and threw your head back as he painted long, languid strokes up and down your folds.

"S-Shit Miguel," you groaned as your hips mindlessly rubbed against his face. Miguel's eyes locked with yours as he snaked his arms around your thighs, his face glued to your gushing cunt. A gasp left your puffy lips as he puckered his lips around your swollen bundle of nerves, your hole puckering against his chin as a loud moan erupted from your throat.

"Let me hear you, Mami," Miguel whispered, his lips tenderly caressing your clit before he wetly swirled his tongue around the sensitive button. Your head began to spin as he gently nudged two of his thick fingers against the rim of your aching entrance. "Let me hear all those sweet, beautiful noises you make," he groaned before slowly pushing his fingers inside your pulsing walls. Your jaw went slack as you already felt filled by his girthy digits.

"O-Oh my-" your throat tightened as you felt every curve and divot of his fingers caressed the inside of your velvety cunt.

"Yes, that's it. That's my good girl," Miguel rumbled as he slowly pumped his digits inside your stretched out hole. Your pussy clenched around his digits as he lapped at your clit, the tip of his tongue flicking over your swollen button. "Taking my fingers so well," he breathed before planting a sloppy kiss over your cunt. The delicious drag of his fingers inside your tight walls mixed with the sweet suction of his lips drew another loud whine out of your throat.

"Fuck Miguel!" you screamed as your cunt gushed around his thick digits. Your eyes shot open when he licked over your clit again, but this time, his tongue felt strangely different. Your eyes grew impossibly wider as you looked down. Miguel's mouth was replaced with Venom's, though it was still his own scarlet eyes staring into your own. You felt a whirlwind of emotions as your legs remained spread before the amalgamation before you.

"W-What-" your lips remained parted as he squeezed your legs, a low rumble rising from his throat as he swiped his tongue back and forth across your wetness. Your strangled moan rose through the room as you felt something slick begin to slide over your legs and abdomen. Your eyelids fluttered as Venom's tendrils began to eagerly rub your hardened nipples as he lashed the tip of his tongue over your needy clit.

Miguel's eyes flashed with red before he quickly ripped his fingers from your now gaping hole. You shot your head up before he quickly replaced his digits by shoving his long, lithe tongue deep inside your plush pussy.

"H-Holy fuck," you panted and bucked your hips forward as you saw a bulge grow in your lower belly, the tip of his new tongue grazing over your soft cervix. Your toes curled as he arched his slick muscle inside your walls, spreading them open with a wet squelch.

"B-Baby," you moaned as you tugged on his hair. Miguel groaned, his voice much deeper and gutteral than usual as he began to slowly thrust his tongue deep inside your tight, warm cavern. Your moans could've shaken the couch as you felt his tongue stroke each and every inch of your tender walls. Each of your nerve endings lit up with pleasure as Venom's tentacles stroked your nipples and puffy clit, the steady drag of his lithe muscle making your walls flutter.

"Miguel, f-fuck, I-I'm gonna cum!" you groaned as you ground your hips against his face. You felt his grip on your legs tighten as he thrusted his tongue even faster, the tendrils wrapped around your breasts and clit now rapidly massaging them.

"A-AH!" you screamed as your hips snapped forward. Your body tensed beneath his grip as he thrusted his entire tongue deep inside your pulsing sex. You moaned and babbled his name as you rolled your hips forward, your warm juices gushing all over his tongue and dripping down his chin as you violently came.

Miguel's eyelids fluttered as a gutteral moan left his parted lips.

"F-Fuck," you murmured as your legs shivered in his grasp, your walls still fluttering as he stuffed you full with his tongue. You panted heavily as you came down from your high, your body glowing in a thin sheen of sweat. A soft whine escaped you as Miguel slowly withdrew his long tongue, the feeling of emptiness quickly rushing into your needy cunt. Your dismay was quickly replaced with pleasure as he slowly licked all the way from the stretched-out rim of your entrance to your swollen, over-sensitive clit.

You mewled as your hips shot up, a small grin forming over Miguel's face as Venom's tongue began to slowly withdraw. Your thighs trembled against his ears as he pressed a gentle kiss to your bundle of nerves. You moaned softly as he locked eyes with you, his gaze tender and lit with an insatiable desire as he slowly pulled his lips back. A string of spit and slick connected his mouth to your weeping sex before he licked his plump lips.

"How are you feeling?" he panted heavily as the tentacles around your breasts rested against your nipples. You swallowed thickly and shifted beneath him, your head still spinning with pure bliss.

"G-Good, really good," you breathed. Miguel cracked another smile before he gently kissed your stomach.

"Do you think you can do another round?" he murmured against your skin. Your heart skipped a beat as you drew in a sharp breath.

"I-I think so. Just give me a second," you said as you tried to prop yourself up on your forearms. Miguel sighed and laid several lazy kisses over your abdomen, his teeth gently pinching the skin every now and then.

"When this is over, I'm taking you out to a proper dinner," he rumbled, his hands gently rubbing and squeezing your hips. The tips of your ears burned.

"R-Really?" you murmured with a wide grin. Miguel's crimson eyes sparkled as he gave you a soft smile.

"Of course. While I do think we're doing things a little backwards...I honestly don't really care at this point," he chuckled while massaging the flesh of your hips. You bit your lip and released a small moan. "I want to do all the things I should've done, and that includes taking you to a nice restaurant," he grinned. You blushed even more as your smile grew.

"O-Okay. But none of those fancy places where they only serve you, like, a tablespoon of food," you warned with a playful smirk. Miguel chuckled and nodded.

"Deal," he smiled and rested his chin on your stomach. "Now...about our next round..." Miguel continued with a mischievous grin.

You gasped as a new pair of tendrils flipped you around. Your breasts and stomach squished against the plush couch cushions as your ass wiggled in the air. You arched your back as Miguel's palms smoothed over the globes of your bum, a low groan heard behind you. You squeaked as he gave your bum a small spanking before spreading your cheeks apart.

"Mmm look at you, you're practically dripping from before," Miguel grunted as he spread your labia apart with his fingers, thick strings of your juices and his spit stretching between your lower lips. You squealed as a rush of adrenaline swept through your body, your core already aching to be touched again.

"Miguel..." you breathed and wiggled your hips. The man above you chuckled softly as you heard him unzip his pants. A jolt of electricity shot through you as you soon felt something hot and wet slap against the crevice of your ass, a drop of precum gliding over your skin as he groaned.

"God, I can't wait to be inside you," Miguel rumbled as he slowly dragged his thick, veiny cock between your supple cheeks. You whined as he grabbed his dick and slotted it between your thighs, his shaft gliding along your slit and spreading the mess to your legs. You gasped as you felt his burning tip rub against your needy clit, your head reeling with mind-numbing pleasure. You moaned and shifted your ass back against his lean abs, the slick sound of him rubbing his erect cock under your folds making your head spin even more.

"Miguel, please. I-I need you," you moaned. You could practically feel him grin as he leaned against your trembling form.

"Do you want me to use a condom?" he whispered huskily as he nipped at your ear. You parted your lips and shook your head.

"N-No, I'm on birth control," you reassured him in a low whisper. He grinned against the shell of your ear before angling his hips against your rear. You moaned as you felt his tip nudge at the tight rim of your entrance, your body trembling with pure, carnal need.

"Just take some deep breaths for me, okay princesa?" Miguel whispered as he smoothed his hands over your hips. You nodded and swallowed a deep breath of air. You felt him smile against your skin as he slowly pushed inside your weeping hole.

"Fuck!" you gasped and gripped the cushion as you felt his thick, round tip start to spread your gummy walls apart. His low moan made you shake with bliss as you felt him inch inside your pussy, your walls gripping him deliciously as you breathed his name. Miguel's grip on your hips grew tighter with every inch of his thick cock that was swallowed by your warmth.

"S-So tight, hermosa," he swallowed thickly. Both of you gasped when his sharp hips met with your ass, the fullness inside your tight cunt making your back arch impossibly more. You heard him swallow again as Venom's tentacles began to gently rub your nipples again. You mewled as the slick tendrils wrapped around your hard buds and twisted them ever so slightly.

"Mmm, that's it," Miguel whispered as he slowly pulled his hips back. Your jaw went completely slack as he snapped them forward, his tip roughly kissing your cervix.

"A-Ah!" you mewled loudly as he continued the steady pace of slowly pulling out, only for his hips to slap against you as he bottomed out each time. The couch creaked as his rhythm began to increase, his heavy balls now wetly slapping against your clit with every snap of his hips.

"Miguel, ohhh god r-right there," you slurred, your mind completely drunk on the feeling of his cock massaging your velvety walls. You threw your head back as you felt his thick tip rub against your spongey g-spot, your cunt pulsing around his hard cock as a wave of pleasure washed over you.

"You feel so good, (Y/N). Your pussy wraps around me so perfectly," he whispered before capturing your earlobe between his lips, suckling on it lightly. You whined as the tentacles and his cock began to move even faster, your heart pounding in your sternum as your pussy began to feel tighter and tighter. "Shit, gripping s-so good," Miguel groaned, his chest flush against your upper back as his cock rubbed each and every part of your leaking cunt.

"Miguel, i-if you keep going this fast, I'm g-gonna cum," you tried to warn him. Your breath hitched as he suckled on the spot behind your ear, his fingernails digging into the soft skin of your hips as he growled lowly.

"Good," he rumbled, his voice much more raspy and feral than before. You felt Venom's tendrils squeeze your breasts as another two grabbed your waist. You squealed as you were flipped around, the room around you blurring before you were face to face with Miguel. You had no time to think about the tentacles sprouting from his back before your arms were pinned above your head by the writhing appendages. Your heart raced as the tentacles from before lapped and curled around your nipples, another one gently massaging your bundle of nerves as Miguel pounded into your pretty pussy.

"Ay dios mío, eres tan p-perfecta," Miguel groaned gutturally, his hot breath cascading over your face [Oh my God, you're so perfect]. You moaned as he captured your lips in a heated, sloppy kiss, the sound of skin wetly slapping against skin loudly echoing through your living room. Your breathing was growing more and more ragged with every drag of his cock and swipe of the tendrils, your heartbeat growing louder and louder inside your ears as you felt the muscles in your lower stomach start to quickly wind together.

"M-Miguel!" you screamed as white flashed across your vision. You shivered beneath him as your pussy squirted all along his abs, your body and mind torn apart in the riptide of pure, unbridled ecstasy. "Mmm yes," you slurred, your head reeling as stars danced in your line of sight. You mewled as Miguel locked lips with you again, his nostrils flaring as he playfully flicked his tongue against yours.

"That's my good girl, cumming around my c-cock," Miguel's breath faltered as your pussy hugged him in an impossibly tight grip. It wasn't long before his thrusts began to grow even faster and sloppy. "S-Shit. Where do you want me?" he asked in a low rumble. You whined and thrashed beneath him.

"Inside!" you moaned as your back arched off the couch. A deep groan reverberated within Miguel's chest as he slammed his hips down for the last time. Both of you moaned as you felt his cock twitch inside your puffy cunt, his cum flooding every inch of your slick heat. The tendrils around your body squeezed you tightly as Miguel closed his eyes, his Adam's apple bobbing as his cock continued to pulse deep inside you.

He swallowed thickly before slowly pulling out; a loud, wet "pop" ringing in your ears and making you shake. You panted heavily, the tentacles slowly withdrawing from your goose-bump riddled skin and back to Miguel's heaving form. You slowly brought a hand up to Miguel's cheek, smiling warmly.

"Thank you," you said breathlessly. Miguel's brows shot up as he let out a small chuckle.

"For what?" he whispered before pecking your lips, his strong arms now wrapped around your smaller form. You sighed as you gently smoothed your thumb over his cheek, soaking in the feeling of his warm body pressed against yours.

"For making my dream come true," you whispered. A small hint of pink dusted Miguel's cheeks as his smile softened. He gently kissed your forehead as he stroked your sides.

"You're welcome, hermosa," he whispered back and held you close.

————

I shall leave you with this (use it wisely):

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268 notes · View notes

redrose10 · 3 months ago

Note

Can you write a friends to lovers Yoongi with prompts 26 and 49?

I’ve gotten a ton of requests and I’m so happy about that! It’ll take a few days to get them done, but I’m working on them.

I hope this one is okay!

#26 It was you the whole time

#49 I don’t want to screw this up

Warnings: None

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Blue or purple?”, you asked holding up two different dress options. Your long time best friend Yoongi sat on your bed carefully looking over each choice. “Umm purple. It really makes your eyes pop”., he said pointing at the floral dress. You smiled as you quickly hurried off to the bathroom to finish getting ready.

Normally you would be a nervous wreck getting ready for a first date, but this wasn’t just any first date. Yoongi also had a date with some woman he’d met at work who also happened to have a friend that was looking for a date so somehow the four of you were now going on a double date. When Yoongi had brought up the date your heart skipped a beat thinking he was going finally ask you out only to be disappointed when he mentioned the other woman and you going out with her friend. And being the good friend that you are you agreed. Maybe her friend would be really cute and nice and you can finally let go of this silly crush you’ve had on Yoongi all these years.

“Y/N are you ready? We’re going to be late.”, Yoongi called from the living room. Hurrying up you grabbed your sweater and purse and met him at the door.

“Wow you look really pretty”., he said.

“Oh thank you!”

He reached for the hall table grabbing a beautiful bouquet of flowers. You had to remind yourself that they weren’t for you and he wasn’t your date no matter how much you wanted that. He held the door open for you as you smiled and walked silently to his car.

The restaurant was beautiful. He made a good choice. Yoongi’s date and her friend were already sat at a table waiting for you two. His date was beautiful and sweet and smart and perfect. Her and Yoongi looked great together. Her friend while definitely handsome didn’t seem very interested in you. He barely acknowledged your presence which made the jealousy and hurt bubble up when you watched Yoongi give his dste her flowers and pull her chair out for her. He was attentive as he listened to her talk about her life while your date didn’t even bother to ask you your name.

Yoongi and his date walked over to the bar to get another drink leaving you alone with yours. Curious as to what was so important that he couldn’t put his phone down for ten minutes you looked over to see him texting some woman who had sent him a photo of herself dressed in a barely there bra and some vulgar words included.

You decided you’d had enough of being treated like that and grabbed your things before walking past the bar. Yoongi grabbed your arm asking you what was wrong.

“It just not working out between me and him. I’m going to head home.“, you managed to choke out.

“Okay let me get my keys. We can go.”

You shook your head, “No don’t worry about me. Enjoy your date.”

He tried to stop you again but you were too quick already navigating through the sea of people.

Just as you exited the restaurant you felt the first few rain drops hit your forehead before the skies opened up soaking you.

“Great! Just great!”, you shouted as you began the walk through the parking lot.

Due to the rain and thunder you didn’t hear the footsteps running up behind you. Only noticing when someone grabbed your arm startling you. You were ready to have to defend yourself until you recognized the face.

“Come on Y/N, Lets go home.”, Yoongi pleaded.

Feeling cold and wet and having no fight left you agreed following him back to the car waiting for him to open the passenger side door for you.

Once in the car he cranked the heat and began the drive back to your apartment.

Once you were warmed up you broke the silence, “I’m sorry for ruining your date. Hopefully she lets you take her out again. I can even apologize to her myself if you’d like.”

Yoongi thought for a moment before speaking, “No it’s okay. I already told her that I didn’t think it was going to work out.”

Shocked you turned to him, “What?! Why?! You seemed like you really liked her. You even did the little nose scrunch thing you do when you think somethings cute.”

“I did the nose scrunch thing when I saw you do your little happy dance after tasting the calamari.”

“Oh.”, you felt your cheeks heat up with embarrassment.

He continued, “Besides, I’m kind of already in love with someone else. So I’ve been trying to ignore my feelings and look for love elsewhere but I’ve realized I can’t keep doing that.”

Being the dutiful best friend that you are you agreed, “You should. You should go tell her how you feel and that you love her.”

Yoongi chuckled, “I just did.”

Feeling the car come to a stop you turned to look at him, “Me? You love me?”

“Yes Y/N, it was you the whole time. Ever since the first day I met you I knew I loved you. I was too afraid to say anything because I don’t want to screw this up. I thought I’d rather have you in my life as a friend than not at all. But watching you on a date with that jerk, seeing him ignore you and treat you like that made me realize that I want to show you how you should be taken on a date. I want to take care of you. I want to buy you flowers and take you out to dinner and end the night by kissing you in the rain. I want you to be mine Y/N.”

You couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face as you nodded, “Of course I want that too. I love you.”

He breathed a sigh of relief before quickly exiting the car and jogging over to your side. He opened the door reaching for your hand and pulling you out into the rain.

“What are doi-?”, you questioned but you were silenced as his lips met yours. You both were getting drenched in the rain, but neither caring because you were together.

#bts #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x reader #min yoongi #bts fanfic #bts x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi fic #yoongi fluff #bts fluff #yoongi #bts yoongi #friends to lovers

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parksunghoonism · 15 days ago

Text

rant about @/drunkhazed.

If you haven’t seen yet, a writer—a real person—on this app, here, in this godforsaken place, posted a teaser to a fanfiction she was writing that would be about the k-pop group Enhypen. Now, you may be wondering, ‘Well, what’s so wrong with a teaser?’ What’s wrong about the teaser is the fact that the fanfiction was quote ‘inspired’ by the real life case of Lyle and Erik Menendez.

Yes. About the two brothers who went through emotional and sexual abuse by their own father. Yes. About the two brothers that while being traumatized, their own mother stood by and did nothing to protect her own children.

This person says in their most recent post: “My original plot was based around 1 member only, but after watching documentaries about the case, I was inspired to make this a story about brothers.”

So, what you’re saying is, you fucking knew about the case beforehand, and yet still chose to start writing the fic. So, what you’re saying is, even after gaining more knowledge about the case, you again still chose to continue to start writing the fic, and in doing so, chose to even develop it more.

Oh, and another thing, this person also says: “I am behind the brothers 10,000% personally, and hope for their peace.”

Now, someone explain to me this, because maybe I’m a little stupid, maybe I’m the one who just can’t understand and I’m simply being a judgmental prick. But, why would someone write a fanfiction inspired by the trauma of people who they say they hope for peace for? Because you’re actively using their past to write fanfiction about more real people.

Currently, the brothers, Lyle and Erik Menendez, are 56 and 53 years old. They were first arrested back in 1990 when they were 21 and 18 years old. That means, the brothers have spent damn near half of their lives as criminals, and they were going to die as criminals after they were given a life sentence.

Finally, in the replies of this post, this person had told another commenter under a reply—of which I cannot see, because the original poster removed it: “There is nothing else to be said.” With this ‘😐’ emoji added at the end.

Yes, there is.

Why do claim to ‘apologize’ when you remove replies? Why do you claim to ‘apologize’ when you’re going to delete the post? Why do you claim to ‘apologize’ when half of the replies in which people are rightfully calling you out, you have removed? Why do you claim to apologize when you are later going to delete the said ‘apology’? You’re not apologetic, you’re doing damage control.

Moving on, how is people seeing your face relevant to the fact that you’re trying to apologize about something? I seriously don’t get that, and I doubt that needed to be said, unless you were trying to gain some sort of sympathy from other people.

My final point, and quote: “Everything else being thrown in, is truly just slanderous, and hate to say—bullying.”

Now, what I am about to say, is going to be a tad vulgar, so, if you don’t like that, I apologize, but, I am incredibly upset at the time that I am writing this.

Nobody, in their right god damn mind, gives an actual fuck if you feel like you’re being bullied, when you were fully aware of what you were doing, when you decided to write your shitty-ass ‘work.’ You, yes you, chose to continue to write your stupid fucking fanfiction, even after you had learned more about the case of Lyle and Erik Menendez.

Because while you’re talking out of your ass on the internet, those two poor men have to sleep in a disgusting cell, while their families beg and plead for their release.

You knew what you were doing. You just did not care. And that, makes you an absolute pathetic excuse of a human being in my eyes.

— Have a nice day everyone. ❤️

#enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen niki #enhypen jungwon #enhypen sunoo #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen jake #enhypen jay #enhypen heeseung

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sebuckyverse · 2 years ago

Text

for a good time, call

modern!rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader

Eddie Munson is a burnt out rockstar, touring the country. When he finds a phone number written on a bathroom wall, he strikes an unusual friendship with a coffee shop barista who has no idea who he is.

warnings: 18+ cussing, eventual smut if i'm horny, steve harrington, none yet, strangers to friends to lovers <3 word count: 3,4k

an: Y'ALL idk what this is but i had this idea when i woke up from a bomb ass nap! tagging my bestie @hellfirewhore because she helped me so much with this, love u bub. also @ceriseheaven because she's obsessed with me. also i apologize for the Steve Harrington girlies

chapter two ♫ masterlist

chapter one ♫♪♩·..·

With a heavy sigh, Eddie slips into the bathroom of a restaurant, the name of which he cannot even remember. It’s barely 6pm and he’s already two drinks in, cursing himself for agreeing to this meeting at all when he could’ve just been a dick and said no, but like someone once close to him used to say, he is a people pleaser. He closes his eyes for a minute before pushing off the door and heading to the furthest stall, locking himself in and sitting down without taking his pants off. He didn’t really need to go, this was just an excuse to escape giving the answers his shitty manager is waiting for him to give.

It’s nearing the end of Corroded Coffin’s summer tour “Live from the Upside Down”. With only 7 shows left, it’s safe to say the tour was a massive success. Tickets were sold out, fans were lining the streets and Eddie couldn’t blink without a camera going off somewhere. It’s what he wanted, dreamed of ever since he was in middle school and he was proud of himself for realizing his dream, specially when in high school, he thought about quitting. The fans are already asking about a new tour or a new album - they aren’t the only ones. Management is also on board, hoarding Eddie about new songs or if they could extend the tour, it’s good business after all. That’s all it seems to be about recently - money, publicity, instagram likes. It didn’t use to be like this, it was good when they blew up and signed with their record label but thinking back, it was too good to be true.

Eddie doesn’t have an answer to anybody. He hasn’t written anything new in weeks and his relationship with the band is strained, he doesn’t remember the last time he actually enjoyed being on stage. So as he sits on the toilet rubbing his eyes, the bags under his eyes blue and purple, he’s trying to find another excuse to his manager waiting by the table to why they definitely shouldn’t jump right into another album. Once he has stretched out the minutes to a quick bathroom run as far as he could, he stands back up and stretches his legs. Eddie does a double take when before stepping out, he notices some text written on the stall door, followed by numbers.

“For lousy head, call Y/N.”

.•♫•♬•

For what felt like the hundredth time today, your phone buzzed in your back pocket. Ignoring it, like you have done for the past two days, you continued packing blueberry muffins into a perfectly folded cardboard box, slapping a thank you sticker on top and pushing it to the side next to a few other to-go boxes. The clock was pushing 7pm and you were counting down the minutes until your shift was over, thankful that you had the next two days off to relax and turn off your fucking phone.

You don’t know what happened, but yesterday afternoon you started getting incredibly weird and vulgar messages and phone calls from unknown numbers. After consulting with your best friend last night, you didn’t reply to a single text and ignored the phone calls after you already answered one, where a guy asked for a blowjob.

“How did this happen?” Your best friend and co-barista Robin asked.

“You’re asking me! I have no idea!” you shrieked back at your phone, looking at her through the Facetime app.

“Have you signed up for anything weird lately?”

“Like what? You’re making it seem like I leaked my own number.”

“Well, someone clearly did.”

You chewed on your thumb as you rewinded the event of the last week. One thing did pop up, something that made your stomach churn. “You don’t think Steve would do this?”

“Uh, yeah! That guy is an asshole and the only thing bigger than his head is his ego. Didn’t you say he blocked you?”

“Yeah,” you sighed and massaged your temples where a headache was already forming “He got mad at me when I didn’t want to sleep with him on the second date.”

“Pfft- what?! Why didn’t you tell me?” Robin gawked at you, only her eyes and forehead visible now.

“It’s embarrassing! Sorry!”

“Well anyway, I bet it was him. You were too good for him anyway, by the way.”

You smiled and stuck your tongue out, “Stupid! But what am I going to do? Am I going to have to change my number now?”

“Seems so, unless you can find out how Steve leaked your number.”

After you promised to look into getting a new number the next day, you finished your call with Robin and turned off your phone. Today was super busy and you were too tired to worry about changing your number. You walked a short mile home and immediately flopped onto your bed, kicking off your shoes.

You had ignored your phone most of the day, but decided it was time to take a peek as you may have missed something important. You scrolled through numerous new text messages and deleted every single one, only sending back a quick text to Robin who had asked for any updates as she was off work today. Just as you were about to turn the device off again, a new message popped up that made you jump up the bed.

7:28pm Hello, I hope this message reaches you. I’m sorry to bother you, just wanted to let you know someone has written your number on a bathroom stall with a pretty nasty message. I scrubbed it off as much as I could. Have a good night.

.•♫•♬•

It's been a few days since Eddie shot that text off and the almost instant reply he received back was still sitting unanswered at the top of his messages.

7.31pm, three days ago Hi. Thank you so much for letting me know, my phone has been going off like crazy. I appreciate what you did. If there's anything I can do to repay you, please let me know!

Eddie had no intention of asking for anything in return, that would be absurd. He was only doing what was right, it's what any decent person would have done. He's been hesitant to respond, he still remembers that one time he was a bit tipsy and made the irrational decision to give out his real number to a girl after a show. It only took three hours before his number was blasted all over the internet and he smashed his phone against a wall just to make it stop ringing.

Eddie was never this reclusive, not before all of this anyway. In high school, he had a handful of friends who he cared for and loved messing with. He was loud at times and he didn't care what anybody else thought of him, they all hated him anyway. In high school, he still had Wayne, too. Now he only has himself.

He was currently sitting on a hotel bed, after a show, his hair still dripping with water from his shower. He's scrolling Instagram, checking out the bands latest post, reading various fan comments who all appeared to love the show - which was good in theory, but it makes him feel sick. Can't they see that he's miserable? He's burned the fuck out but everybody seems blind to it. Before he can close the app though, a new text comes through, from the same number he still hasn't answered to.

02.59am ''ROb where re you- steve is here and i slapped him!! Cme find me quick''

His brows bunch together in a frown and before he can help himself, he snorts. This was clearly a text someone would send not-sober, which he has done too many times. He decides to write back, just to be.. polite.

03.00am ''Not Rob, but if Steve is the one who wrote that shit on the wall, good for you 🙂''

03.02am ''oh fuckk im so sorry'' 03.02am ''this is so embarrass sing pls ignore me'' 03.03am ''and it was steve!! he said t was him'' 03.04am ''hes such a dick im sorry i'm bothering you'' 03.04am ''ignore me, m so sorry again''

Eddie is staring at his phone with the most comical look on his face, if he felt tired before it's all gone now. He doesn't remember the last time he had a genuine laugh, but your texts are very amusing.

03.05am ''It's very hard to ignore you when you keep bombing my phone.''

It takes a couple of minutes before a new reply comes in and for some reason that he doesn't want to think about right now, it's making him anxious waiting for your reply. That's not creepy at all, he thinks.

03.08am ''IM SORRY have a kiwi on me🥝🥝''

.•♫•♬•

The fresh September breeze has sneaked in through your open window, a gush of wind petting your forehead. You peel one eye open and do a quick scan of the room, noting that you're thankfully in your own apartment. With a delicious groan, you stretch your limbs and turn to your other side. The subtle thumping in your head is a stark reminder that you should've stayed home last night, but Robin refused to take no for an answer, as usual, and you two ended up at a bar downtown.

While downing a few fruity drinks might have been in your bingo cards, seeing Steve Harrington wasn't. Your eye twitched as soon as you saw the back of his head and that stupid hair of his, his arm flung around a girl you had never seen before. Robin had disappeared to the bathroom a while ago and you were left alone at the counter sipping your Cosmopolitan. Blessed with liquid courage, you set your unfinished glass on the counter and stomped your way over to him and his group of friends.

When you were in earshot, you heard one of them shout ''All hail King Steve!''. You rolled your eyes, pretty sure there was steam coming from your ears.

''Pff, King Steve? More like bitch Steve!''

The girl on his arm sputtered out her mojito and looked between you two, her wide eyes moving back and forth like she was observing a tennis match. Steve turned as well and scoffed at you, ''You need somethin'?''

You crossed your arms, needing to shield yourself and popped your hip. ''Yeah, why'd you do it?''

''Do what?''

''Don't play dumb, Steven. I know you wrote my number on some random bathroom wall. The fuck is wrong with you?''

Steve unhooked himself from his date and took a step closer to you, but you took a step back as well. Someone bumped into you from behind and spilled liquid onto your open toed shoes, but you didn't turn away, instead staring Steve right in the eyes, hoping your looks could kill.

''Aw, I thought I was doing you a favor, babe. Thought you might use the experience.''

''Fuck you,'' you spat. ''All this because I wouldn't have sex with you?''

''Nobody turns down the King, sweetheart. It's your loss anyway.''

You scoffed and broke eye contact to dig through your purse for your phone. Robin would abolish him, but she was still not back yet. ''You're such an asshole!''

Steve raised his hands and run his knuckles up and down your arm, which you jolted away immediately. ''We could still hook up if you want, you know. I'll even do you first.''

You gasped at his crummy words and before you knew it, you raised your hand and slapped his cheek. Steve's head flew to the side and your palm stinging from the harsh contact. Your chest heaved as you turned to leave, looking back at the girl and seeing honest confusion in her eyes. ''Don't bother with him babe, I heard he's only 4 inches.''

You pushed past people back to the bar and ordered yourself 3 shots of tequila, your fingers still trembling as you handed over bills. The shots were gone in the blink of an eye. You needed to find Robin and tell her what happened. You don't condone your actions but you knew she would high five you once she hears about this. You used the restroom, hoping to find her there, but she was nowhere in sight. Sighing in defeat, you pulled your phone up and swiped until you found Robin's text chain and sent off an emergency text. Your vision was already doubling, no doubt the work of 2 Cosmos and 3 shots of tequila, being the lightweight that you were.

Back in bed, you raked your hand through the bedsheets, trying to locate your phone, finding it under your ass. The clock showed 2.13pm. How the hell did I get home last night? you thought and swiftly found Robin's number and put the phone on speaker and placed it next to you on your pillow. The ringing went unanswered and you went to send her a quick text.

2.14pm - to Robin ''Hey, you ok? call me when you get this.''

Looking at your text messages, you were confused when you didn't find texts from last night. You specifically remember texting her and she even replied! Didn't she? Nausea started forming at the pit of your stomach as your fingers made quick work to look through any other messages you might have sent last night and your heart almost stopped beating when you realized who you actually messaged last night.

''Oh, dear God.''

.•♫•♬•

Eddie was on the other side of the country, in the middle of soundcheck when he felt left pocket vibrate. As there were only two songs left, he ignored it until he had a few minutes to spare. He didn't want to jump to conclusions, but he was maybe hoping it was you. Not in a romantic way, of course, he was just wondering what happened to you last night, if you got home safe.

They finished soundcheck and headed back to the dressing room, where they would spend the rest of the day waiting for the show to start, fitting in a few interviews where he put on his best act. Eddie fished his phone from his bucket and felt a cold shiver run down his back as he stared at the screen. It wasn't who he was expecting, it was from Wayne.

Eddie and Wayne used to be close. Wayne was like a father to him and during high school days, were people accused Eddie of being the devil himself, always had his back and looked out for him. It's how Wayne also noticed that Eddie was unhappy, even before Eddie realized it himself. Eddie would reassure Wayne that he was fine and that this was what he wanted, but Wayne could see through the bullshit. He never let Eddie stomp on him either, calling him out for lying and telling him to come home, or at least take a break. But how could he take a break when he is at the height of his career? He couldn't.

Being manipulated by his manager as well, Eddie slowly started pulling away from Wayne. He wouldn't call as often or would leave certain texts unanswered. It's at a point where they aren't really speaking anymore, only the occasional text Wayne sends to let him know he's doing good, everything is fine. Eddie can't admit it, but he needs those texts more than ever. He's thought about calling Wayne every day, now that things have gotten so bad for him. He needs his uncle, the only person he's ever looked up to, to put him straight. But like always, he is a coward and instead of replying, Eddie just locks his phone.

.•♫•♬•

''Where the hell have you been?'' you scold as you hold your door open for Robin, graciously accepting the entire bag of junk food she brought. Chips, cookies, various types of candy and four cans of Coke Zero.

After you hauled up from bed and straightened yourself up, Robin called you and told you she would be coming over with hangover medicine, hence the junk food. You emptied the bag on your coffee table and popped open one of the Cokes. Robin toed off her shoes and joined you on the couch, reaching for the chips. ''I think I found the love of my life.''

''Oh great heavens, again?''

Throwing a chip at you, you pick it up and snack on it. ''Hey, she's the one who got us all home last night. I found you slumped against the wall next to the bathroom.''

''Oh, well, make sure to thank her for me then. What's she like?''

Robin proceeded to fill you in on her activities last night and you told her about your encounter with Steve, receiving a very expected high five. ''Fuck yeah! He deserved it, I hope that girl dumped his ass, too. He's a stupid idiot.''

Fidgeting in your seat, you pulled your legs closer to your chest. ''Speaking of idiots, I may have done something dumb last night, too. You remember that number that texted me about the whole thing? Who told me my number was on that stall and shit?''

''Yeaaah?'' Robin asked cautiously.

''I.. might have drunk texted him last night, thinking it was you.''

''Oh my God, what did you say? Show me your phone!''

You grabbed your phone from the coffee table and handed it to her, watching her facial expressions as she kept reading. ''Oh my GOD, this is like, sexy.''

''Sexy?! What part of this is sexy? I humiliated myself to this stranger. He could be the president for all I know.''

''Really doubt the president is allowed to text. But this is cool! You have a mysterious pen pal, or a text pal. He hasn't texted anything yet?''

''Nope,'' you say and is that disappointment you detect in your own voice? This is stupid.

''You do it then! Text him something right now.'' Robin claps her hands and scooches closer to you so she could see your screen.

''No, what the hell. And say what?''

''Anything!''

.•♫•♬•

Tonight's show was the hardest so far. The band changed the setlist a little bit and Eddie was off his game, forgetting some words to their last song. The night ended in a screaming match with his manager when Eddie spoke up about wanting a bigger break before they do another tour. Jake, his manager, accused Eddie of being lazy and not willing to work for it, whilst Eddie accused him of being a phony and only caring about money. At one point, the band had to separate the two of them so fists wouldn't go flying.

So, as he nurses his beer at another hotel room, laying on silk sheets and dried streams of tears running down his cheeks, he feels the need to talk to someone. He can't call Wayne, although subconsciously he know that should be the first option, he thinks of that stranger, somewhere out there, who has no idea how he is. He bends down to rummage through his pants until he finds what he's looking for. He's surprised when he sees that you have written to him first, the nickname he gave you staring back at him.

5.56pm - Kiwi ''Hi. I would once again like to apologize for my antics last night. Please know that I'm so humiliated!''

Without thinking much about it, Eddie quickly types a reply, hoping you still might be up.

01.13am “Don’t worry about it. You’re entertaining.”

01.15am - Kiwi “Oh, is my despair entertaining you?”

01.15am ''Yes.''

01.16am “I hope I didn't wake you.”

01.17am - Kiwi ''You didn't.'' ''What's your name, by the way?''

Eddies fingers hovered over the keyboard, seconds ticking by. He couldn't give his real name, he'd already made a similar mistake once. He didn't want to lie to you, but seeing as you didn't know who he was anyway, it made feel a little bit less guilty when he offered you a fake name.

01.20am ''It's Kirk.''

01.21am - Kiwi ''Are you from Metallica?''

Eddie smiled - he was outsmarted. Bonus points for liking, or at least knowing Metallica.

01.21am ''What would you do if I say yes?''

01.21am - Kiwi ''Nothing, probably ask you what James Hetfield smells like 😜''

01.22am ''It was nice knowing you, Kiwi girl.'

01.22 am - Kiwi ''KIWI girl?? Wait come back, Kirk's my second favorite!''

01.22am ''I'm here.''

01.23am - Kiwi ''Are we friends now?''

01.24am ''Sure. If you want to be.''

01.24am - Kiwi ''I think so.''

01.25am ''Good, me too.''

01.27am - Kiwi ''Good night, Kirk.''

01.27am ''Good night, Kiwi girl.''

#eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #rockstar!eddie #eddie munson fanfic #rockstar!eddie munson #modern!eddie munson

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eetherealgoddess · 7 months ago

Note

Can you make a fem reader whose is a martial artist with a yan bonten but she doesn’t let them get her easily

ik it's been a while y'all but don't worry bc i will be getting through your requests!!

idk much about martial arts so I’m just gonna do my best with the fighting scene. hope you enjoy!

also, why am i more inclined to write when i’m high 😩

ꨄFight For Your Lifeꨄ

Oneshot - Yandere Bonten Au

❦You’ve been on the run from your childhood friends❦

Sano Manjiro, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, & Haitani Brothers x Reader

Not fully proofread

MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR & AO3 UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!

I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

Fight For Your Life

The platforms of your shoes slap against the wet concrete, puddles of water splashing as you ignore the rain falling on your skin. Your bloody clothes hugging against your body uncomfortably as the street lights glow amongst the dark sky, the empty buildings sitting under as you run past with squinted eyes. Your lips are apart as you take in quick breaths, though you tried to keep the panting steady. The adrenaline running through your veins made it easier to ignore the goosebumps caused by the cold air hitting your dermis and the red liquid running down your nose.

You didn’t know how long it had been since you ran from your totaled car. It was amazing how you slipped away, not expecting the driver of the car to have died on impact. You knew exactly who sent the sheep, snarling as you remember the men you couldn’t seem to escape for long. Although you made it far enough to stay in a motel a great distance away from Japan, you still had a long way to go.

I’m so tired of this shit.

It’s frustrating having to travel from place to place, continuously spending a limited amount of money just to be free from the grasp of the yakuza. If you would’ve known that you would be abducted as an adult by your childhood friends who disappeared without any warning, you wouldn’t have become close to them in the first place. To have been so devoted to them and the rest of the gang, only for them to abandon you and reappear without warning, snatching you up and treating you as property rather than a person, murdering most of your loved ones without a care of how that could affect you. Not only is the situation painful but demeaning. How could they treat you like that? No explanation for the disappearance nor the behavior, not that you needed it. Who they are now explains everything you need to know.

Ignoring the tightness of your chest became harder as you slowed your pace, halting your movements before bending over, hands on your knees. You gripped the fabric of your pants as your eyes closed, head dropping as you struggled to steady your breathing. Your tears of frustration mix with the droplets of rain, finally lifting your body and rubbing your sleeve against your eyes, only for the moisture to return.

Your eyes widen as bright lights flash behind you before you swiftly turn your body to face the car speeding toward you. The loud engine roars as the vehicle darts down the hill through the fog. You search around your surroundings for a good hiding spot amongst the empty stores. You huff before running behind a structure closest to you. You find a dumpster, cursing as you open it and climb in, ignoring your discomfort for bacteria as you cover your nose and close yourself into the darkness, praying to not feel anything crawling on you as you rub your face with both hands, smearing the blood from your nose.

You breathe in through your nose and release from your mouth, ignoring the overwhelming stench as you listen for anyone close. The pouring rain made it difficult to hear any footsteps if someone were to walk near. You closed your eyes as you pant into your cupped hands quietly. You patiently stay in your spot for what feels like a while, planning to hide in the dumpster all night long if you have to. The phone you bought when you ran from Bonten was lost in the wreck, hidden behind the broken machinery and shattered glass so you had no way to contact anyone to help, not that you knew anyone. You also didn’t know if the police would help you anyway considering Bonten has some of them wrapped around their fingers.

The top of the dumpster is snatched open, rain pouring as the sound of your screaming covers the droplets landing on the full sacks of trash. You struggle against the hold on your wrist as you’re yanked out of the hiding place, feet meeting the ground.

“The more you struggle the harder this will be for you!” The man growled, attempting to hold you in place. When he pulls you toward him with his grip tightening, you straighten your posture before pulling your head back and slamming it against his forehead causing him to release you as he grabs his head in pain. Running on nothing but adrenaline, you dash away from the man as you ignore the throbbing ache of your head, only to run in the direction of two more men speeding towards you.

“Shit!” You hiss before turning back around.

“Get her idiot or it’ll be our asses!” One of the men exclaimed on his way toward you as he faced the original male whose face is still scrunched in pain.

Just as you were about to pass the man who attacked you, he reached for you in which you dodged before continuing to make your escape. Before you could succeed, you are snatched by the collar of your top and yanked back. You gasp as you feel the sting from the sudden pressure on your neck, though your shock doesn’t last long.

“Gotcha you bit-!” He grunts and bends over, releasing you in the process when you elbow his stomach with as much strength as you could muster, so much so you release your own throated shriek. Before you could run the next man comes forth, pulling his arm back before landing a punch on your cheek. Your face hangs to the side in reflex as your palm immediately meets your cheek, eyes wide as you wince in pain.

Before he could make another move, you use your fist to back hand the man’s face before landing a punch on his cheek with the same arm, his body wobbling back as he tries to keep balance. You shove him just as the third male comes to ambush you from the side, both of you landing painfully on the ground with you at the bottom. The puddle of water mixed with dirt and grime splashes as you thrash in his hold as he grasps your wrists and forces them next to your head, squeezing as you howl in agony.

Seeing an opening all the while your face is scrunched with fresh blood oozing down your cheek, you take the opportunity to knee the man’s midsection. His eyes widen as his grip loosens, mouth hanging open with a silent scream. You make eye contact before shoving him off of you. Before you can pick yourself up, the original man places the platform of his shoe on your stomach before pressing down hard. Your nails claw at his covered ankles as he glares down at you with a smirk.

“Oh? What is this?” You watch as the color drains from the man’s face. Your own eyes widen at the realization that you had just been caught.

Your head slowly turns to the side, your own eyes meeting two pairs of purple orbs. A certain mullet haired man tsked as he stood in place, flicking the cigarette butt from his fingers before lifting the black gun held by his other hand. A blaring shot echoed in the air, your eyelids met just in time before the red liquid could splatter in your eyes.

As a result, a weight was lifted off of your stomach as you opened your eyes, watching as the other two men had an expression of bewilderment, freezing in their spots as they watched the bloody corpse drop to the ground, pieces of the brain and skull lying all around the wet ground. You stare at the situation with wide eyes as you slowly sit up, leaning on your trembling arms as you watch both males take a step back with their hands in surrender.

“Come on boys, don’t cower on us now.” The tall man says, running his fingers through his short streaked hair, a sly smile on his face as his other hand holds the black umbrella both him and his brother stood under.

“Pathetic.” Rin states before he turns on his heel, slowly walking away from the scene, Ran follows alongside. They don’t give you another glance.

Escaping your trance, you went to jump up, only for your arms to be grabbed by the two men. You thrash as your feet lifts from the ground, your biceps slightly sliding against their wet hands as the rain continues pouring. You didn’t stop your struggle even when nearing the familiar black suv that caused your heart beat to accelerate. Sweat mixed with the droplets sliding against your forehead as the pressure in your chest became more prominent the closer you got to your entrapment. You pull your arms with all your might against the growling males’ holds, attempting to use your feet to kick them, only for them to dodge and grips tighten.

“Don’t do this.” You plead, bargaining for your freedom.

“We got no choice, lady.” The guy on your left responded.

“You have to have a wife or daughter or something, guys! Please!” Your eyes burn with moisture caused by frustration, your eyebrows furrow as you glance between the men who hold you.

“Shut up!” The guy on your right hissed. “We’re doing this to keep them safe. Your well being is worth nothing to us so just accept your fate.”

Your head hangs low as you’re dragged to the car, the tinted window rolling down as a blur of white reaches your peripheral, right before the men holding you halt in front of the vehicle. You hear footsteps before a tight grip reaches your chin, forcing you to meet golden eyes that seem to glow through the rainy night. A blonde strand hanging on the left side of his face, the rest of his black locks pulled back in a messy ponytail. His empty orbs bore into you as you seem to internally cower from the strange expression.

Your discomfort increases as time goes on, the sound of the rain hitting the pavement masking the silence as you continue to hold eye contact. The corners of his lips curve upward before you can comprehend his next move. The tight grip released on your left arm before you hear a thud against the ground. Your eyes widened as you eye the injured male, turning your gaze back to the man who gives a sheepish smile, rubbing his bruised knuckles as he chuckled.

“You really know how to make a guy angry, Y/n.” He scratched the back of his neck before looking to the side as his smile dropped. “Running off like that wasn’t cool.”

You scoff before shaking your head angrily. You couldn’t believe his deflecting. They treat you like a pet. It’s degrading and abusive. The lack of respect as close as they were before is disgusting. Before you could respond, the cocking of a gun snatched your attention away from the tiger tattooed male in front of you and towards a certain pink haired man who now stood outside of the car. The barrel of his gun aimed right at your torso, your body tightening as you lose your breath.

His scars stretch as he snarls shifting his aim quickly before pulling the trigger. A loud shot rings out, echoing throughout the empty street. Your breathing slows down as the pounding of your heart is the only sound you can hear, followed by a ringing in your ears as the final grip releases you to the ground. The water pellets fall on your face as you feel pressure on your front as you stare at the sky, a warm liquid forming under your torso as your lips hang slightly apart.

You barely hear the car doors opening as your hearing goes in and out, five figures hovering over you as they observe your figure. Crouching down closest to your face, the platinum haired male who gives you an expression of emptiness uses a hand to caress the left side of your face, thumb tracing your temple. He leans over, his warm breath connecting with your ear.

“If you won’t let me have you, death will.”

As your hearing comes back and vision clears you watch as the men with solemn gazes turn and leave your vicinity. Mikey pulls back before picking himself up and following his men. You listen as you hear footsteps fade and the car doors open and close. The engine roars before they speed away, leaving you on the wet street.

You were in slight shock considering you couldn’t believe you had just been shot. You knew they were capable of it but the thought of yourself being murdered is unsettling. You stay on the ground for a moment, relieving yourself of the panic attack you just had before you slowly sit up and eye your surroundings. Seeing nobody in the area, you look down and pull your shirt up, grabbing the busted sack that once held fake blood from your cushioned vest. Staring at the sack you took a deep breath before releasing.

This is perfect because now they think I’m dead.

Although you were surprised about the gunshot, you wore a bulletproof vest, along with the fake blood sacks since you had escaped because you knew that there was a chance you might die trying to leave them. Your hands couldn’t help the trembling as you eyed the bloody puddle under you. Seeming to escape the trance, you hopped up from your seat and began to walk in the opposite direction from where you came.

The car’s atmosphere was thick with tension and grief. Although all the men held the same stoic and zoned out expression, their emotions were going haywire with their decision to kill you. Do they regret it? No. They don’t regret it as your punishment nor as a blockage for you to be able to move on without them. Do they wish you had just listened so it wouldn’t come to this? Indeed. Kazutora wipes the stray tear as his head turns to the side, eyebrows furrowed as he leans back in his seat with crossed arms and a crossed leg. Sanzu slowly cleans the gun used to take your life, wiping in slow yet rough strokes, all the while trying to focus on everything but the memory of your body landing on the ground. Now that his anger was gone, he lacked the adrenaline he had originally.

The Haitani brothers sit next to each other in the back of the black suv, Ran smoking a cigar with a tired expression as well as Rin removing a flask from his suit’s jacket and throwing his head back for a good sip. Mikey sat in the passenger’s seat, eyeing through the windshield with nothing but an empty void filling the inside of his chest. He feels nothing and everything at the same time. You used to be so close to all of them. It was a shame but he knew that he couldn’t allow you to live without him. You chose this. This is your fault.

A sudden ringing interrupts everyone as Mikey grabs the phone and hands it to Kakucho who uses one hand to direct the wheel.

“Hello?”

“You what?!”

Everyone’s eyebrows furrow at his reaction. He lowers the phone before handing it to Mikey with a concerned expression. Mikey sets the phone on his ear as he listens to the other person.

“Boss, her body is gone. She’s nowhere to be found.” Kokonoi says as he crouches down to get a closer look at the busted sack. Using a gloved hand to pick it up before it hangs from his fingers and the remaining liquid leaks.

“I have a feeling she faked her death and has escaped.”

Mikey stares ahead with a more focused expression, his eyes slightly wider than usual as he narrows his gaze.

“Find her, now.”

You eye the two lines with wide eyes. Your hands tremble as your fingers barely hold up the test.

“I-I’m pregnant?!” You hiss. You hop from the toilet and slam open the stall door, tossing it into the trash before walking to the sink and recollecting your memory as you try to search for how this could’ve happened because you genuinely had no remembrance of any sexual encounter in the last few months.

“I-I can’t feel…” The tingling in your limbs causes them to limp as you attempt to move your body around, though hands around your wrists prevent you from budging. Legs sit in between yours as the person on top of you leans over to your ear.

“How much of a dosage did you give her this time, Sanzu?” Kazutora asks before he licks a slow trail from your neck to your ear. You squirm under him as you try to find an escape before your body slightly shuts down and you become still as your eyes become heavier.

“G-guys…” You whisper, trying to come back to reality as you feel him adjust on top of you. Your mouth hangs open in a silent grunt as you feel a firm pressure enter your vagina.

“Enough.” The blue eyed male responds while rubbing his thumb along your forehead, taking in your scrunched nosed expression as Kazutora slowly thrusts into you.

“Fuck.” He whispers as he pressed his cock against your cervix, holding it there as his hands snake to the back of your head and neck, squeezing before he pulls his hips back to repeat the same process.

You shut your eyes tight as the girth stretches you, a stinging sensation surrounding your core before your pussy engulfs his cock perfectly. The pain switched to a conflicting pleasure that your own drugged body couldn’t handle. Your head falls back as Sanzu leans over and pulls you into a heated kiss, while Kazutora holds you tightly, his head on the other side of your neck as he accelerates his pace, hips rocking in a steady rhythm purposefully aiming deep against your g-spot.

Ran watched the display to the side with his brother, enjoying the show as they patiently waited for their turn with Bonten’s signature doll. He man - spreads while sitting with his arms resting against the top of the sofa, one arm slightly behind Rin who has his arms crossed. Both brothers ignore their erections as their pants become tighter, listening to the sounds you make as well as the juices colliding.

Mikey sits in a chair, similar to a throne next to the sofa, eyeing the session with his legs spread, leaning over to where his arms rest on his legs. From this angle, you both make eye contact when Sanzu pulls back.

“P-please stop!” You whine out as tears fall, hoping for Mikey to take control of the situation. Unfortunately, the only response you get are Sanzu’s thumbs smearing your tears and groaning from Kazutora in your ear.

Suddenly, he stops his thrusting and pulls back. He sets your legs on his shoulders as he looks down at you with a glazed over expression, red covering his face along with sweat as he repositions himself before leaning over your thighs and thrusting hard. His pace accelerates once more as he brings you both closer to your release. His forehead rests on yours as he thrusts his hips rhythmically against you. His cock slides in and nearly out of your walls as the head kisses your g-spot repeatedly.

“You're taking his cock so well, sweet girl.” The pink haired male whispers against your ear before nibbling the lobe, his hand sliding on your chest towards your neck before circling his fingers around the surface and slightly squeezing. The stimulation becomes too much, the sensation overwhelming as it mixes with the effects of the drug. Your hips meet his deep thrusts as you cry out.

“So. *thrust* Fucking. *thrust* Good, baby.” Kazutora’s raspy soft spoken words meet your ear as his eyes bore into yours. Biting his lip, he watches as your hands meet his chest as his grip tightens on your legs, along with the thrusts forcing you into having a violent orgasm along with sending him into his own as he moans out your name and his hips move sloppily, riding out both of your orgasms as sweat drips from your skin.

Your hand shakily reached your mouth as you recall when they would drug you up and proceed with sexual acts against your will. You have no clue which of them would even be the father. You knew you had to figure something out but you just didn’t know what. You quickly leave the public restroom and ask to use the cashier’s phone. Once you dial the number, you set it to your ear.

“Draken? C-can you please help me?”

“Ugh, girl come here!” You sigh as you eye the mess left from the little devil.

“What is this?” You question your child, eyeing her golden eyes as you point at the red paint that spilled all over your carpet.

“U-uh, I don’t know mama.” The eight year old responds with a cheeky smile. You shake your head, irritated because of the mess but you breathe out a sigh considering the paint is washable and will be able to be cleaned.

“Yeah, okay. You’re gonna help me clean this up.” You shake your head as your daughter nods. You chuckle to yourself before stating, “And don’t try to lie to me anymore, I can see right through you.”

Your daughter shrugs before leaving to grab some of the supplies. You couldn’t believe how much she grew to look like Kazutora. It was haunting and hard to deal with at times but she had nothing to do with it so the love for your child was enough distraction from how she was created. Before you could follow and help her, you heard a knock on your door. Your eyebrows furrow, not expecting anyone to have appeared so you ignore it.

Once the knocks stop, the ringing of your phone catches your attention. You snatch the device from your pocket and lift it to your ear.

“Hello?” You say to the unknown number.

“You have something of mine, and I’ve come to get it.” Before you could react, your windows were shattered as you crouched down and covered yourself. Immediately going into action, you run to the storage closet in the hallway to grab your child.

“Mama?” She cries out in surprise at the commotion.

“We have to go now!” You snatched her with one hand and pressed a contact with another.

“D-Draken! They broke i-!” Before you could finish, the phone was knocked out of your hand and you were forced to the ground, releasing your child in the process as she’s snatched by a person you hadn’t wanted to see.

“Awe, you really do have my eyes.” Kazutora says warmly with a smile as he holds your child in his arms, the poor girl crying in confusion and fear.

You're cuffed before you’re forced to stand up and face five of the men you never wanted to see.

“M-Mikey, please! She needs me! Don’t t-take her from me!” You yell in hopelessness, the tears falling uncontrollably as you watch Kazutora caress your daughter’s hair. The leader only stares down at you before turning on his heel and walking away, motioning for the other men to snatch you and follow.

“Wow, Y/n. You know, you really had us fooled.” Rin says as he grabs one arm. Ran stands on the other side and mimics his brother’s hold on the opposite arm.

“It’s silly really. We knew only an hour after you escaped and followed you up until this point.”

“You should be thanking the king for not killing you on the spot.” Sanzu growls with his head turned slightly back to make eye contact with you.

“On the bright side we can all be a family, now.” Kazutora beamed.

Truth be told though they would never say it out loud, they were all thankful that you hadn’t actually died. They found it humorous that you thought you could escape their radar at all. Now having been caught, you could only stare ahead, in hopes that if you comply, you could possibly come up with a plan to safely take your child and completely leave your past behind.

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