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h4nj1sunggg · 3 days ago

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₂ .𝐖𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 - ( h. jisung. )

pairing: rockstar!Han Jisung x groupie fem!reader.

genre: smut, fluff, angst, rockstar x groupie to lovers

words: 4.2k

summary: after Jisung left, he contacted you after months.

ᯓᡣ𐭩　 ( masterlist ) . playlist. part one.

warnings: fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex in a semi-public space (don't be silly), dirty talks, exhibitionism kink.

Months had passed, but the ache in your chest hadn’t quite faded. You told yourself it was anger that lingered—that simmering frustration at how easily Jisung had slipped away, leaving you to piece yourself together while he lit up stages in different cities.

You’d done your best to push him out of your mind, but every so often, his face would pop up on your social media feed, a reminder of what you could never have. You scrolled past videos of him smiling, laughing, pouring his soul into his performances. To the world, he was untouchable, larger than life. To you, he was just a man who had left.

When his text came, it caught you completely off guard.

Your heart sank into your stomach as you stared at the message, the screen illuminating your face in the dark room. You read it over and over, trying to make sense of the emotions it stirred in you.

After everything, after months of radio silence, he thought he could just waltz back into your life?

You tossed your phone onto the bed, running your hands through your hair as the frustration bubbled up again. Part of you wanted to ignore him, to let him sit in the silence he’d left you with. But another part—one that you hated to acknowledge—wanted to see him, to demand answers, to make him understand how much he’d hurt you.

By the time the next evening rolled around, you still hadn’t responded. You were convinced you wouldn’t go. But as the clock ticked closer to the concert’s start time, you found yourself pacing your apartment, torn between your pride and the pull he still seemed to have on you.

Finally, with a heavy sigh, you grabbed your jacket and headed out. You told yourself you weren’t doing this for him—you were doing this for you, for the closure you deserved.

When you arrived at the venue, the sound of the crowd was deafening, a mixture of excitement and chaos. His fame felt overwhelming here, even more so than before. But you pressed on, your steps carrying you toward the private entrance he’d told you about.

You weren’t sure what you’d say when you saw him. All you knew was that you were still angry, still hurt, and he was going to hear every bit of it.

The security guard at the private entrance barely glanced at you before letting you through, his instructions clear: “He’s in the green room.”

Your steps were hesitant, but your resolve remained firm. As you wound through the corridors, the muffled sound of fans screaming outside the venue reminded you of exactly who Jisung was to the world—and of how small your place in his life seemed in comparison.

Finally, you reached the door. His name was scrawled on a piece of tape stuck haphazardly to it, and the sight of it sent a wave of mixed emotions through you. You raised your hand to knock but hesitated. What if he dismissed your feelings? What if you were just setting yourself up to be hurt again?

Before you could decide, the door swung open, and there he was.

Jisung looked different. His hair was slightly longer, his features sharper, like time had matured him in ways you hadn’t expected. But his eyes—the warm brown that made you feel seen in ways no one else could—were the same.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice tentative, as if he wasn’t sure you’d actually show.

You folded your arms across your chest, leaning against the doorframe. “Hey,” you replied, your tone clipped.

He stepped aside, motioning for you to come in. The room was cluttered, his things scattered across the couch and table—a hoodie here, a notebook there. It was so him, and yet it made your stomach churn with frustration.

“Thanks for coming,” he said, shutting the door behind you. He stood awkwardly, his hands fidgeting at his sides. “I wasn’t sure if you’d—”

“Why did you text me, Jisung?” you interrupted, cutting straight to the point. “After months of nothing, why now?”

He winced at your tone, rubbing the back of his neck. “I—I’ve been thinking about you. A lot, actually,” he admitted. “And I know I messed up. I know I left without giving you what you deserved. But I didn’t know how to—”

“How to what?” you snapped, your voice rising. “You didn’t know how to treat me like I mattered? How to say more than a half-assed thank-you before disappearing for months?”

He flinched at your words, his eyes dropping to the floor. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like that,” he said quietly. “I didn’t think I’d—hurt you like this.”

“Well, you did,” you shot back. “You can’t just show up when it’s convenient for you and expect me to drop everyth-"

Before you could finish, Jisung closed the distance between you, his hands gently cupping your face as his lips pressed against yours. The kiss was urgent, almost desperate, as though he was trying to pour all his unspoken feelings into that single moment.

Your breath hitched, your body stiffening in surprise. For a split second, you considered pulling away, but the warmth of his touch and the familiarity of his scent clouded your judgment. Slowly, almost reluctantly, you melted into him, your hands gripping the front of his hoodie as if to anchor yourself.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his eyes searching yours for a reaction.

Jisung's fingers tightened in your hair, tugging just hard enough to make you gasp. "Don't play coy with me," he mumbled low in his throat, the intensity of his gaze making it impossible to look away. "We both know why I'm here and what we both want."

His other hand slid down your side, tracing the curve of your hip before dipping between your thighs.He cupped your sex through the thin fabric of your shorts, applying pressure that made you bite back a moan.

"You're already wet for me,"he accused with a knowing smirk, rubbing circles against your clit. "I can feel how much you want this."

Oh fuck it, you thought.

"Please, Jisung," you whimpered as his fingers pressed deeper, his hands working on your waistband to push it down. "I need more. I need your mouth on me again."

Jisung don't waste time and your shorts finish on the floor, your back arched against the couch as he settled himself between your thighs.

"Like this?" he asked, voice dripping with seduction as he spread your thighs wide.

You nodded frantically, too desperate for relief to form words. With a wicked grin, Jisung buried his face between your legs and devoured you like a starving man.

His tongue lapped at your clit, swirling around the sensitive nub before sucking it into his mouth. Moans poured from your lips as he worked you over with renewed fervor. Your hips bucked against his face of their own accord, seeking more friction against that talented tongue.

Jisung's husky voice sent shivers down your spine as he murmured filthy promises against your slick folds.

"Gonna eat this sweet cunt until you're screaming for me, baby girl,"he purred, his hot breath fanning over your sensitive flesh.

His tongue traced the crease where thigh met sex, the tip dipping into your drenched slit to gather more of your arousal before slowly licking up to tease your clit.

He circled the swollen bud with deliberate slowness, each pass sending jolts of pleasure through you. "You taste so fucking good," Jisung growled, sucking your clit between his lips and flicking it with his tongue.

His hands gripped your ass cheeks, spreading them wider to deepen his access as he feasted on you in broad daylight. The risk of being caught only seemed to amp up his desire, driving him to be even more wanton in his oral assault.

Jisung's deft fingers probed your tight entrance, teasing the rim of your hole as his tongue continued its relentless assault on your clit. He pushed one finger inside you, curling it to rub against that sensitive spot within that made you see stars.

"Mmm, so tight," he groaned around your throbbing nub, pumping his digit slowly in and out while maintaining the pressure on your clit.

"missed you so fucking much baby," at his words your hips rolled shamelessly into his touch, desperate for more friction.

Jisung added a second finger, scissoring them to stretch you open further as he sucked harder on your clit.

The dual sensations were almost too much to handle - the gentle probing of his fingers and the intense suction from his mouth had you teetering on the brink of climax. Just when you thought release was imminent, Jisung pulled back with a wet pop. He looked up at you with dark eyes gleaming with lust. "Not yet," he warned breathlessly.

Jisung straightened, towering over you with a predatory gleam in his eyes. He palmed his rigid cock through his jeans, the bulge unmistakable even through the denim. "You want this?" he growled, voice low and rough with need.

"I'm going to fuck you so hard right here where anyone could walk in and catch us." The thought of being caught only seemed to inflame him further.

Jisung unzipped his pants, freeing his thick shaft which sprang up eagerly, already glistening with precum at the tip. "Gonna make you feel so good with this big dick that you're gonna forget about how mad you were before," he panted, fisting himself as he positioned himself between your spread thighs.

With one swift motion, he sheathed himself inside you to the hilt. A guttural moan tore from your throat at the sudden intrusion, your body instinctively clenching around him.

Jisung's hips started to move, driving into you with deep, powerful thrusts. His grunts of pleasure mingled with your moans as he pounded into your willing body. "Fuck yeah, take my cock," he snarled, his voice echoing off the walls.

"J-Jisung, oh god.."

He gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises as he ravaged you in broad daylight. The risk of discovery only seemed to heighten his arousal, each stroke more forceful than the last until it felt like he was trying to split you open.

"Let them hear you scream," Jisung commanded breathlessly, picking up the pace even more. "Want everyone to know who's fucking you so good."

With that challenge hanging in the air, he slammed into you one final time before stilling deep inside.

Jisung's cock twitched inside you as he came, his hot seed spurting deep into your womb. You could feel each pulse of his release against your inner walls, milking every last drop from him.

As the aftershocks faded, he collapsed onto you with a satisfied groan. "can you..," he panted into your ear, his voice breathy. "can you stay?"

"Okay." You mumbled breathless, with a final kiss to your forehead, he carefully extracted himself from your body and began to redress.

"I'll see you later, wait here after," he said softly with a hint of affection in his eyes, you both get dressed pretty fast, ready to go out again after the quick sex that you just had.

The manners that he has, the passion, something that makes your head spin.

The adrenaline of the concert and the private moment you shared still buzzed in your veins as you both stepped back into the world beyond the small, stolen space. Jisung was composed, his idol facade perfectly intact, though a faint flush lingered on his cheeks. You could still feel the ghost of his touch, the electric hum of your connection threading through your thoughts like a live wire.

The venue was alive with post-concert energy—fans still milling about, sharing their excitement, and staff bustling to wrap up the night. Jisung glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, a smirk playing on his lips as if the two of you shared a secret no one else in the room could possibly know.

He brushed his hand against yours briefly as you walked side by side, his way of tethering you to him without drawing attention. “I have to head back to the green room for a bit,” he said softly, his voice just loud enough for you to hear. “Stay close.”

You nodded, your heart still racing. It wasn’t just the intimacy you’d shared—it was the way he looked at you, the way he seemed to pull you into his orbit like gravity.

Backstage, the chaos of post-show wrap-up swirled around you, but Jisung remained unbothered, his natural charm and easy smile guiding him through conversations with staff and bandmates. You stayed just out of the way, your presence discreet but undeniable.

He glanced over at you whenever he could, his eyes softening in those brief moments, as though you were the calm in the storm of his life.

After what felt like an eternity but was probably only an hour, Jisung finally broke free from the crowd of responsibilities. He walked over to you, his hand casually brushing against your lower back as he leaned in close. “Ready?”

You didn’t need to ask where he was taking you. The answer didn’t matter. With Jisung, you’d go anywhere.

He led you outside into the cool night, the city still buzzing but quieter now, the energy of the concert lingering in the air. “You hungry?” he asked, his tone casual, but the way he looked at you made your stomach flip.

“Starving,” you replied, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

“I know a place,” he said, and without another word, he took your hand, his grip firm but gentle.

The two of you walked down the dimly lit streets, the hum of the city around you fading into the background. It wasn’t about where you were going—it was about the moments in between. The quiet jokes, the lingering glances, the way his thumb rubbed small, absent-minded circles against the back of your hand.

By the time you reached the small, tucked-away diner, it felt like you’d stepped into a different world. The neon sign flickered, and the smell of comfort food wafted through the air.

Inside, the place was almost empty, the late hour keeping most people away. Jisung chose a booth in the corner, sliding in across from you with a grin. “This is one of my favourite spots,” he said. “No one really knows about it. It’s quiet.”

You could see why he liked it. The soft hum of conversation from the only other table, the warmth of the decor—it was a world away from the stage lights and screaming fans.

As you both ordered and started to eat, the tension eased into something softer. He was still Han Jisung, the idol who commanded stages and captivated millions, but here, in this quiet moment, he was just a guy sharing fries and stories with you.

“You know,” he said, leaning back against the booth with a contented smile, “I don’t usually do this.”

“Do what?” you asked, mirroring his relaxed posture.

“Let someone in like this.” His eyes met yours, earnest and unguarded. “But with you... I don’t know. It feels right.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, shifting the atmosphere between you. Jisung ran a hand through his hair, his gaze dropping to the table as if summoning the courage to continue.

“It’s... not easy,” he began, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant. “Letting someone see past the surface, I mean. The stage, the idol persona, the version of me that’s always smiling and acting like everything’s fine. It’s exhausting sometimes.”

You stayed silent, sensing he needed the space to unravel his thoughts.

“It’s not that I don’t want to get close to people,” he continued, his fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on the table. “I just… I get scared. Scared of what they’ll see if they look too closely. Scared of being vulnerable and then having it thrown back in my face.”

His confession tugged at something deep within you. You could see it now, the weight he carried, the way his bright smile often hid a storm beneath the surface.

“I’ve tried before,” he admitted, his voice tinged with a sadness that made your chest ache. “But it’s hard to trust when the world feels like it’s constantly watching, waiting for you to mess up. And the more you let someone in, the more they could hurt you if they wanted to. Sometimes it feels safer to keep people at arm’s length, you know?”

You nodded, even though he wasn’t looking at you. “Yeah, I get that,” you said softly. “But keeping people out doesn’t make the fear go away. It just makes you lonely.”

His eyes lifted to meet yours, and there it was again—that raw, unfiltered honesty that had drawn you to him in the first place. “You’re right,” he murmured, his lips curving into a faint smile. “I’ve been lonely for a long time. Even surrounded by people, it still feels like I’m alone sometimes.”

The vulnerability in his voice broke your heart a little, but it also made you want to protect him, to show him he didn’t have to carry that burden alone.

“You don’t have to do this by yourself, Jisung,” you said, your voice firm but gentle. “It’s okay to let someone in. Not everyone’s going to hurt you.”

He leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on the table, his expression softening. “That’s the thing about you,” he said quietly. “You don’t feel like everyone else. With you, it’s not just about the moment or the fun or the thrill. It’s something deeper. And that scares me too.”

“Why?” you asked, your heart pounding.

“Because if I let you in, really let you in, and something happens... I don’t think I could handle that.”

The honesty of his admission took your breath away. But instead of pulling back, you leaned in, meeting him where he was.

“Then don’t push me away,” you said simply. “Let’s figure this out together. Whatever happens, we’ll face it. I’m not going anywhere, Jisung.”

For a moment, he just looked at you, his eyes searching yours as if trying to decide whether to believe you. Then, slowly, his expression softened into something you could only describe as hope.

“Okay,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “Okay.”

Months passed.

Months had passed since that night at the diner, and life had settled into its usual rhythm—or so it seemed from the outside. Jisung had returned to Korea to continue his whirlwind schedule of promotions, recordings, and performances, while you stayed in your hometown, navigating your own day-to-day life.

But the connection you’d built didn’t waver. If anything, the distance seemed to sharpen it, every message and call becoming a lifeline tethering you to him.

There were nights when his voice would come through your phone, soft and low as he lay in bed after a long day.

“I miss you,” he’d confess, the vulnerability in his tone always catching you off guard. “I know I’m supposed to be used to this—being away from people I care about—but with you... it’s harder.”

And there were mornings when you’d wake to texts from him, the time stamp revealing that he’d stayed up late just to talk to you before you started your day.

Jisung: You looked so cute in that picture you sent last night. I saved it. Hope that’s not weird.You: Weird, but also sweet. I’ll allow it.Jisung: Good. Because I would've done anyway eheh

Sometimes, when his schedule allowed, he’d surprise you with a video call, his face lighting up the screen even if he looked exhausted.

“You’re my break,” he’d say, a small, tired smile on his lips. “Talking to you makes everything feel a little less crazy.”

And then there were the shared moments that weren’t planned at all. The times he’d send you a voice note at 2 a.m. Korea time, a snippet of a song he was working on.

“Just something I’m playing with,” he’d say, his voice hushed like he didn’t want anyone to hear. “I was thinking about you when I wrote it.”

Or the care packages you’d exchange—small, thoughtful reminders of each other. You’d send him snacks from your hometown, and he’d send you trinkets from places he visited, often accompanied by handwritten notes that made your heart ache with how much you missed him.

One day, a box arrived with a sweatshirt inside, one you instantly recognized from a photo he’d sent months ago.

Jisung’s note: I know it’s cheesy, but I wanted you to have something of mine. Wear it when you miss me, okay?

You did, of course, and you sent him a picture of yourself wrapped in it, the sleeves too long on you but comforting all the same.

You: It smells like you. This is dangerous. I might never take it off.Jisung: Then I guess I’ll have to bring you another one when I see you baby ;)

The moments you shared weren’t grand gestures or dramatic declarations—they were small, quiet, and deeply intimate. They were the kind of moments that made the distance bearable, even when it felt like the space between you was an ocean too wide to cross.

But even as the months passed, there was a question neither of you dared to ask out loud: how long could you keep this up? How long before the distance became too much, before the longing turned into something heavier, harder to carry?

Jisung: I got you the ticket for the next show :) You: I cannot wait to see you

After the concert, you managed to sneak backstage. You’d perfected the art of blending in with the chaos, and tonight was no different. You weren’t sure if it was sheer confidence or pure luck, but there you were, leaning against a wall, waiting for him to notice.

When Jisung finally walked into the room, his eyes swept across the space and landed on you. A small smirk tugged at his lips. “You again?” he asked, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

“Me again,” you replied, flashing him a daring smile.

“You’re bold,” he said, stepping closer. “What makes you think you’ll get away with this?”

You shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Because you let me.”

His laugh was soft but full of amusement. “Touché.”

He leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Careful, though. Keep this up, and I might start looking for you.”

The promise in his words wrapped around you like a warm embrace, and in that moment, the world outside faded. “Is that a challenge?”you asked, your heart pounding as you searched his eyes for the intent behind his playful demeanor.

“Depends on how you play your cards,” he replied, his eyes glinting with mischief. The chemestry between you crackled in the air, making the dim room feel charged with possibilities.

You said taking a step closer,“I’m feeling lucky tonight,” emboldened by his playful attitude, “What’s the wrost that could happen?”

Jisung leaned against the wallbeside you, crossing his arms, a grin spreading across his face. “A lot,” he replied, his gaxe lingering on your lips for a heartbeat longer than necessary.

“But I think you would enjoy it.” You raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

A mischievous glint ignited in his eyes as he pushed himself off the wall, closing the distance between you.

“Alright then, let’s raise the stakes. How about a game of truth or dare?” His voice was low, almost teasing, and the room seemed to pulse with an electric energy.

“Truth or dare? Really?” you laughed, feigning nonchalance, but your heart raced at the thought of where this might lead.

“You’re on.”

“Dare,” he said, his bravado unwavering.

You thought for a moment, weighing your options, before deciding to lean into the playful tension. “I dare you to kiss me,” you declared, your voice steady despite the fluttering in your stomach.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise, but the glimmer in his eyes revealed he was more than ready to accept your challenge.

He stepped closer until you could feel the warmth radiating off him, the air thick with anticipation. “Bold choice,” he murmured, tilting his head slightly as he leaned in.

The world around you vanished completely, leaving only the two of you in this moment suspended in time. His lips brushed against yours��soft, tentative at first—but as you melted into the kiss, he deepened it, igniting a fire within you that sent your thoughts spiraling.

Your heart raced, the sound of it echoing in your ears as you lost yourself in the warmth of his embrace. When he finally pulled away, both of you breathless, a grin broke across his face.

“Guess I should have expected that from you,” he teased, his eyes sparkling with delight. Embarrassment tinged your cheeks, but you couldn’t help but smile back.

“What can I say? I like to gamble.”

“Let’s see how lucky you really are,” he challenged, a hint of something more serious weaving into his playfulness.

“Your turn. Truth or dare?” You felt the weight of the moment settle around you, and with a newfound confidence, you replied, “Dare, of course.”

His smile widened, the kind of smile that made your heart race all over again. There was something electric in the air now, something that felt heavier than before. As if the world around you had tilted and suddenly everything felt more alive.

"Alright then," he said, his voice low and deliberate. He leaned in, his breath warm against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "I dare you to—" he paused, letting the tension build, "—kiss me back."

The challenge in his voice was undeniable. He was pushing you further now, testing the boundaries of this playful game, and it’s getting hotter in the small place of the waiting room.

For a heartbeat, you hesitated. The cheeky dare, the challenge in his eyes, and the overwhelming chemistry between you made it impossible to think clearly. But that hesitation was fleeting, replaced with a fierce spark of boldness.

You stepped forward, closing the gap between you again, your movements sure. Without a word, you took him by surprise, your hands slipping into his hair as you pulled him toward you. The kiss was instant and unrestrained.

This time, you didn’t wait for him to lead. You matched his intensity, kissed him back with a fire of your own. His grip tightened around you, pulling you closer, until it felt like nothing else in the world mattered except the two of you.

When the kiss ended, neither of you immediately pulled away. Your foreheads rested against each other as the room seemed to swirl around you.

He was the first to speak, his voice a bit breathless. "Well, now I know... you're definitely not afraid of taking risks."

You smirked, teasing, "Who says I’m afraid of anything?"

His eyes darkened, a mischievous glint still dancing in them. "Careful," he warned, his tone shifting, now more serious, "you just might tempt fate too much."

You leaned back, giving him a questioning look, but before you could speak, he held up his hands. "But I’m not complaining."

You chuckled, feeling the lingering heat between you, but the game was far from over.

"Your turn," he said, his voice now playful again, but there was something more challenging about it. "Truth or dare?"

You looked him up and down, your mind racing. The stakes were higher now, and the room felt charged with anticipation. You could feel your pulse quicken at the thought of what could come next.

Without hesitation, you answered, "Dare."

A slow smile spread across his face. He was thinking, the wheels in his mind turning. Then, his grin turned devious. "Alright, here it is. I dare you to take a risk. A real one."

Your brow furrowed slightly, trying to decipher what he meant. "What kind of risk?"

He raised an eyebrow, enjoying your confusion. "I dare you to tell me what you're really thinking right now. No games, no hiding. The truth."

For a moment, time seemed to stand still. Your heart thudded louder in your chest. The playful atmosphere had shifted, and now there was something more intimate, more vulnerable in the air. You could feel the weight of his gaze on you, waiting for you to break.

You swallowed, suddenly aware of how exposed you were, how easily this could turn from fun and games into something much more serious. But then again, maybe that was exactly what he was daring you to do—be real.

You took a deep breath, letting the silence hang between you for a moment longer before answering. "I'm thinking... that I’m really starting to like you."

His expression softened, and for a second, the tension between you seemed to ease. Then, a smile tugged at the corner of his lips, though his eyes held something deeper. "Funny," he said, "I was thinking the exact same thing."

taglist: @inlovewithstraykids

#( skz. — 💭! )#han jisung skz #han jisung x reader #stray kids #han jisung fluff #han jisung smut #han jisung #skz #Han Jisung rockstar #rockstar #rockstar x groupie #han skz #han jisung stray kids

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nighttimealone · 3 months ago

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Cw: Nsfw

Taking one of Simon’s balaclava from the closet, inhaling the lingering musk snd cologne scent while rubbing your pussy needily on the bedsheet. He went on a short mission for a few days, and you missed him, miss how he call you sweetheart with that gruff voice, miss how he sit you on his lap, murmuring sweet nothings while his hand

sneaks pass the waistband of your panties, pinching and flicking your clit to warm you up for his big cock, miss how his veiny and sturdy arms wrap around you while you fall asleep while basking in each other’s presence.

You kiss the balaclava on where his lips should be, but that’s not enough, the ache in your chest leads you to scramble to the closet again, taking out a pair of his skeleton gloves, putting those far-too-large gloves on as you slump down on the bed you two shared again, mimicking how he kneaded and rolled the sweet spot hidden between your slick folds, until you finally reach your high, dampening his gloves with your juices.

You tuck the used balaclava and gloves deep inside a discreet drawer, welcoming Simon back home the next day. He got a crazy amount of gloves and balaclava, sure he wouldn’t notice missing a pair or two, right? You try to convince yourself, till the day you think you finally get a chance to wash those fabric stained with the evidence of your guilty pleasure, that he appears behind you silently and catch you scrubbing them.

You have no one to blame other than yourself when getting put over his knees moments later, pajamas shorts pulled down, ass in the air and whining every time he lands a light slap on your reddened buttocks.

“Think I wouldn’t notice, hmm?” He rubs the spot he just hit gently, soothing that delicious tingle briefly “How many times did you come with my balaclava and my gloves?”

You look back at him, trying to respond with the vibrating dildo deep inside your squelching cunt messing your mind. “One ti-One- ngh…” your incoherentness brings yourself another slap, this time land carefully just above your stretched cunt and on the clit.

“Say it clearly, princess, can’t understand when you’re talking in moans.” Simon rubs your skin after the soft smack again, just like what he did whenever he gives you a teasing slap, but him rolling your over-sensitive bud that just got a sweet slap, only flares up your desire and makes you unable to think straight, his fingers and the dildo occupied your thoughts as you manage to answer more comprehensibly.

“One…only one time…” Your staccato reply receives a feign pity glance from him.

“Only one time? poor girl.” He grabs the base of the vibrating dildo and thrust in and out “Look how you lube this dildo with your juices so well, love. Finally satisfied?”

“No! No…please…” You paw at the bedsheets desperately, happy that he might end his ‘punishment’ soon, yet afraid that you won’t get the thing you truly craved. “Need you, Simon, please…! need you inside”

He grins imperceptibly, though the arrogance in his heart is satiated. That’s what he wants to hear, hear you say out loud about how much you need him, how only him can fuck you in the way others can’t.

Pulling the dildo out, seeing how your cunt grabbing onto it like you try to swallow it back in, he fish out his cock, standing straight and leaking profusely from enjoying the show “No need to feel empty for the lost, sweetheart, you’ll get what you deserve now.”

Simon press the tip of his length at your entrance, looking at you with smugness within those brown eyes, and he knows it’s going to be a long night when you gaze back with droopy eyes, still coming down from the edge, with a bliss-out smile spread across your glossy lips.

#ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #simon riley imagine #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #cod x you #cod x reader #female reader #nighttimealone

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anantaru · 8 months ago

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GENSHIN + BREAK UP, MAKE UP

— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — you fuck your ex boyfriend and shocker, you love it ᰔ

— ꒰ including ꒱ — alhaitham, ayato, heizou, wriothesley x fem! reader

— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — ex boyfriend trope, slightly toxic & mean boys, bratty! reader ??? dirty talk, oral (male! receiving), fingering, cowgirl position, cumming inside, lots of cum lol, dom characters

— ꒰ ALHAITHAM ꒱

"hey, don't insult me now," alhaitham looks at you with a prized confusion in his eyes— while also taking care of your bodies needs and desires, his cock pressing deeply in you. "what's with the attitude i hear?" his voice was clearly hinting at a hazed tone as he pants against your wet cheek, your tits flushed against his solid chest.

you gasp at him, curving your fingers into his hair to pull it, "w-what attitude?" your hips involuntarily buck into his cock so he would hopefully get the hint and continue to move, more so stop being so annoying for once in his life.

"you're hiding it from me," he whispers cruelly, "don't act stupid now, aren't you so smart?" as his hips begin to grind through your tight hole, a warm press slowly distending in your cunt and swelling in your belly.

"you hide your moans from me, fuck, you brat, you know what that does to me," under the cover of a shaken exhale, he shoves you into the mattress even further— no mercy, no signs of previous affection, only a raw and pleasuring handle.

archons, how much you loathed the way he always had you figured out this quickly.

how, just how.

but well, it's not like you were a couple anymore, correct? so why would you give him the pleasure of hearing you? knowing full on well he finds it to be the best part whenever he fucked you.

just so he could pride himself again? scrap that, he doesn't deserve it, nor to indulge into every drop of desire you give him.

"hah, you're so weak alhaitham," you bite back a whimper, "still so weak for me," as your hole clenches, throbs and milks against his awfully hard cock before you look at him through a wet expression, his hair soused and messy sticking all over his forehead, pressed into the light sheen of sweat across his face, "or maybe you aren't doing a good job,"

it's dangerous— playing that game with your ex. but it's also worth the gamble.

— ꒰ AYATO ꒱

like a puppy, you preciously kneel between ayato's legs, slightly leaning against one of his muscular thighs— one hand proudly holding his cock in your grasp to stroke him, your wet tongue circulating over the leaking slit just how he liked it.

but that familiar infatuation from months ago, when you were still considering yourself a team, that disgustingly known taste of your tongue on his cock made the yashiro commissioner twitch in your hand— is it desperation in his movements? or longing?

it reminds him all too much on how things used to be.

when you were in a relationship, of course, "in love", and where fucking you wasn't just fucking to neither of you, it was making love.

a longing that filled the whole breast with its mad virus.

it was much, much. he could never argue against the fact that you were the only one who could make him fall to his knees.

you flick the tip of your tongue back and forth over the inflamed head, teasing the slit and making him shudder, finding it more and more satisfying to have someone within such position under your grasp, the constant press of need and attention on your cunt only coming second.

"y-your mouth feels so fucking good," he heaves and embarrassingly coughs out right after— well, it's not that deep? because hey, a commissioner doesn't curse now, does he? but he did it for you, always.

how were you able to always coax that out of him?

your hand tightens around his erection, adding shallow yet precise pumps over his shaft as you cup his balls roughly, massaging them in your palm and wetting them with your saliva.

he's already wet of both his pre and your spit, yet you do not waste any chance to spit on his tip again, again and again until your cheeks and chin where littered with filth, finding it rather enchanting whenever ayato moans disgustingly hot.

chest rising, falling again, groans hitching at the feeling of your saliva sliding down his tip.

"i want to touch you too, come on now, don't you want me to touch you?" he begins to whimper, stroking over your head affectionately as you look up at him, flexing your throat, grabbing at his shaft more firmly.

he continues, although it gets harder to breathe, "don't you want my fucking hands on you, come on, admit it," fuck, ayato was so pent up— from work? from going through a messy break up? from being alone?

archons who was he fooling besides himself? it's due to how much he has missed you, missed this, missed your scent all around him.

— ꒰ HEIZOU ꒱

"oh your so wet, well look at this, look at this all over my hand,"

"some things never change, hm?" heizou moans softly and parades his glistening fingers to your blinking eyes as you whined out, trying to shift from his body hovering on top.

it's futile— not because you actually want him to stop, but because you really wanted this, despite him being so embarrassing and blunt about it.

what little movement you managed to coax from your hips merely aroused you further as heizou stuck his fingers back into your cunt— two slippery digits scissoring you hard, reaching deeper and floating inside you like inside water before rubbing his thumb back and forth your clit.

your thoughts were sluggish, and you found yourself overwhelmed due to the fact that your body enjoyed it, and so did your mind.

you knew this was wrong, this shouldn't happen, this wouldn't make it easier for either of you in the long run. but you couldn't think beyond that when all you thought about was his next touch and buck of his hands thrusting into your cunt.

your skin tingles, ever hot as he presses and rubs and strokes until every inch of your being was shivering in need and regretting ever breaking up with him.

no matter how often you try to act like he isn't setting a fire along the slopes of your skin, the detective will never stop seeking you out for this, conquering your sinful spots until you're fucked out of your mind, only then he will get close to your ear and ask you to say that you regret ever letting him go.

— ꒰ WRIOTHESLEY ꒱

"do you still fucking hate me?" there was a rumble emitting from wriothesley's chest, and for one long moment, he was consumed by nothing more other than your tight cunt riding him fiercely, "do you still refuse to admit that you secretly like this?"

if only he could shut up for just a damn second, just one.

"do you?" your eyes flew open to him in anger, your gaze aggravated in its entire embrace, how dare he mock this— but an expanding shock of his hips bucking into you forced a new bodily reaction from your shuddering frame, enough to override the otherwise enticing anger you were about to spit like venom into his proud face.

your back arches as you shoot him a dangerous glare— one that could easily get confused with a please please do fuck me harder, instead of hold your tongue you asshole.

because you see, don't act out on anger, instead luxuriate in the crushing weight of his cock between your legs, hard and heavy throbbing as you ride him, pleasure and fuck him hard— still pondering about how difficult it always had been to fit his entire length inside of you.

you let your legs shift apart more as your tits bounce in combination with your movements, your back arching as your pussy began to milk him fiercely, squelch and squelch as the deep, bloating throbs of his shaft scrub over the bends of your walls, until reaching your swelling belly.

you turn sensitive, he knows it, the duke can feel it.

"oh, come on now baby," pride gushes from his mouth as he tilts his head, tightly holding your waist before thrusting up. you wouldn't let him bath inside his confidence any longer as you lightly punch his chest upon hearing him use a damn petname.

"oh? you don't want me to call you that?"

"obviously not," you shake your head, wetting your lips, despite that, he could hear the arousal in your voice, "why are you clenching when i say it then? baby~" as he maintains his ardour, refusing to allow you to control your little get together as he mercilessly thrusts up into you, thick and heavy cock slipping in and out, your arousal running down his balls.

your moans are a little more breathless now, shaken as the pumping motions of his erection slapping against your pussy only grew needier.

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parfaitblogs · 1 month ago

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persimmon ❀ s. reid x reader

in which you wake up to your first morning on your honeymoon.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: smut (18+ mdni) tags: oral (f receiving). praise. he loves you you love him!!! newlyweds. word count: 1.2k a/n: couldn't tell you where the fuck this came from tbh. very short + very simple little thing i wrote instead of doing assignments after seeing a tweet about persimmons :)

You were beautiful. Maddeningly. Iridescent, as sunlight reflects off your skin and golds the room in which you lay with him. Gentle breaths that lift and deflate your chest evenly, bringing you closer to him, ripping you away soon after. He ached to hold you closer. To the point of your chest never cutting contact with his own. He knew better; knew to let you sleep.

The things he feels for you seem too demanding for a human being. Too overwhelming. How can one man hold so much adoration for another person? His heart was always so full when he woke up like this; before you did.

Things were more beautiful today, though. The ring around your finger, for you had refused to take it off despite his efforts, sparkled amongst crinkled white sheets. Legs entangled with his own, skin resting against skin, warm enough to provide an enormous amount of comfort.

Never one to curse unnecessarily, Spencer Reid was. Yet, all his thoughts were consumed with, fuck you were beautiful.

It seemed too inconsequential of a word to describe you. Every word did. A thousand adjectives and he would still believe he's not loving you as much as you deserve.

You stir, and his entire bloodstream burns. He couldn't count on his hands how many times he had watched you wake up in the morning, but this morning was so special, and before you had even fully fluttered your eyes open, he was kissing you. Gently, for he wanted to take his time with you.

You're smiling. He can feel your lips stretch against his, and he's proud to have enough self restraint to pull away from you so he could see it. He's sure the sun could develop a rivalry with you when you were this happy.

"Good morning," you murmur, a little breathless from the half asleep kiss you were still trying to recover from, "husband."

He relishes in the way the word leaves your lips, and it takes a considerable amount of strength to not kiss you once more. Though, he wants to. Desperately.

Then again, he wishes to do a lot of things this morning. So many different activities he yearns for (many of them not very appropriate, if he's honest), and he is quite content to cancel the schedule you had developed for today to complete them.

He knows better than to do that unprompted. So, he asks, "How much time in bed do we have?"

Perhaps it was the way he looks at you while he's above you, hair falling down and gently tickling your face from how close he was. Perhaps it was your own personal desires seeping into your strong willed mind. Whatever it was, you were probably on the same wavelength as him, and you were discarding whatever else you wanted to do that day.

"As much as we want," you reply, and it's a shit-eating grin on his face that promises you a good morning.

"Thank God."

Never one to be religious, you know he's wanton if he's thanking a figure he doesn't believe in. You bite down a remark about it.

Amongst all the doctorates he had attached to his name, you were sure worshipping your body had to be one of them. For the way he kisses down your body is practised, and it is a trail of flames he leaves on your skin. Benign kisses on every patch of skin he can find, paying extra attention to the pulse point on your neck that drags whimpers from your lips.

Fingers find your thighs to push them apart, hands sliding up and down the skin and encouraging goosebumps to lift. He is breathless as he laughs at you, but then he is pressing kisses into your hip bones, and you truly forget how to argue with him.

"I love you," he says, lifting his gaze up to you, breath warm against your skin, all whilst his head lowers further down your body. He presses a kiss to each thigh, repeating the adoring phrase in between.

Wasting no time to put his lips on you, he's teasing with his tongue licking a stripe up the centre of your folds, before he's attaching them to your clit.

He probably mumbles something about how good you taste, as he usually does, but you're too overwhelmed already to actually register the words. For you had been inside the cabin David Rossi had gotten the two of you less than twelve hours, and he had drawn four orgasms from you already. Something about spending your honeymoon loving you in every way he can.

You're writhing beneath him already, and he's sure if he focusses any more on that, he'd lose his mind. His tongue flicking over your clit elicits more moans from you, and the broken sound of your voice.

"Spenc—er—oh," your head digs into the pillow beneath it, back arching. "Please."

Usually, he would force your hips back to the mattress, and he would concern himself with keeping you still. Then again, usually, you aren't this sensitive. He lets you lift yourself off the mattress, though he moves with you, and you're provided no respite from his mouth.

He's never once eaten you out with this much tranquility; he likes to devour you like you are his first meal in months. But today, he is taking his time, and he is dragging out every quiet moan and cry from your throat that he possibly can.

Persimmons can sometimes be so incredibly tender they split themselves open. The osmotic pressure that is built up by the sugar tends to cause the skin to burst. When he touches you like this, you consider whether or not you are but a tender persimmon, splitting under the duress of how good he feels.

"My beautiful girl," he breathes out against you, and God if you believe nothing else in this world, let it be how much this man loves you.

His hand reaches up to find your left hand, interlacing your fingers with his own and bringing them both down to your stomach, where he finally pushes you back down onto the mattress.

You are too tired to even warn him, but your moaning becomes incessant, and your fingers are digging into the knuckles of his hand within your own. You're sure you don't need to say anything.

He coaxes you through your orgasm, obscene praise leaving his lips every chance he gets, his eyes so fixated on your face you can feel it, even through your now closed eyelids.

He's pulling away and kissing his way back up your body, each kiss more drawn out than the last, until he's got his lips back on your own, and he's swallowing the gentle moan that leaves your lips.

"I love you," you finally murmur, and he pulls back to bury his face into the crook of your neck, kissing the skin there so delicately you wonder if you could fall apart all over again, for an entirely different reason.

"I love you," he punctuates his words with his hand squeezing your own, which he still had interlaced with his.

"Can I cut our bed time short for a shower?" you ask him, quietly.

"Mm," he considers it, or pretends to, hair tickling your jawline. "No, I'm not done with you here yet."

"You're insatiable."

You squirm when he nips at your neck. "You married me."

He pulls back to look at you, eyes sparkling, and you breathe out a quiet huff of amused laughter.

"Yeah, I did."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

#lia’s fics ♡#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer x reader #spencer x self insert #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid x you

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leahwllmsn · 4 months ago

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somebody to you

alexia putellas x reader

word count: 9.6k

You’re not a footballer and knowing that your girlfriend is one of the best footballers in the world… you definitely think Alexia deserves better than you. Maybe someone like her ex—World Cup winner, Jenni Hermoso.

; angst, fluff

When you first met your girlfriend, Alexia, you had no idea who she was.

Football was the last thing you could ever be interested in. How were you supposed to know that the blonde in front of you was one of the best footballers in the world?

Whenever you recall back to that moment, you could still remember every single detail—her hair up in a messy ponytail, a pair of sunglasses resting on top of her head, and her faded grey sweatshirt paired with light blue jorts. (Who the hell wore jorts?) Not to mention the permanent scowl etched on her face. She made smiling seem like a chore.

When it was her turn to order and all she did was point to the menu to show you what she wanted, you frowned because, a) that was so rude—how hard was it to say that she wanted a hot chocolate? but b) she looked so damn hot and you were a sucker for pretty, bratty girls.

She was perfect.

When you decided to shoot your shot and wrote your number on her cup (and a note that went: you should smile more often, I haven’t seen it, but I’d bet that it’s the most beautiful smile in the world x), you didn’t think she’d do anything about it.

Imagine your surprise when you received a text from an unknown number later that night.

hola

I just wanted to tell you to do better with your pick-up line

That was a few months ago and now you could confidently say that Alexia’s smile was indeed the most beautiful smile in the world.

It was tough to break down her walls at first, Alexia always exuded a nonchalant vibe, only smiled when she had to, and didn't look like she enjoyed whatever it was you two were doing.

You were never a quitter though. So you kept on texting her, asking if she wanted to go for another date.

She kept on saying yes and that was when you knew that underneath her indifferent mood, she enjoyed your little dates.

Her tough exterior was merely a front and your suspicions were confirmed when one night, she started laughing so hard mid-sentence, causing you to stop whatever it was you were doing because wow, you could listen to her laughter on repeat for the rest of your life.

“Y/N,” she grabbed your face in her hands, gently rubbing your cheeks, her laughter fading into a gentle, warm smile on her face. “You’ve been so patient with my grumpiness. That is a talent.”

“Ale, I really like you,” you chuckled. “That includes your grumpiness.”

“I’m not always like this,” she confessed. You only looked at her in confusion before she told you everything. Who she was, what Alexia Putellas meant to the world, and most importantly, her ACL—the injury that caused her to lose sight of the world for a bit.

“I was just so angry with the world, even now that I’ve healed, I still hated that it happened to me because I missed out for months, I missed out on so many moments. So the bitterness likes to reappear every now and then… That, and I don’t really trust people so easily; people usually want something from me. I didn’t know what you wanted from me.”

“Ale… I had no idea who you were,” you gave her a sheepish smile. “Which might be stupid of me, now that I think about it. I mean, I should know you, shouldn’t I? You’ve won that balloon football award or whatever and it’s ridiculous that I have no idea who—”

You were cut off by a pair of lips crashing into your own. Alexia silencing all your worries with the softest kiss, her strawberry chapstick was all you could taste. She pulled away to rest her forehead against yours, eyes staring at you intently, your favourite smile on display. “I don’t care that you don’t know who I am, Y/N. In fact, I love it. You treat me so normally. Eres mi favorita.”

You couldn’t help the grin on your face. “Am I? You wanna be my girlfriend then, Putellas?”

When all she did was flash you her signature smirk, her eyebrows raised, and an “ask me in a more romantic way, por favor” thrown your way—that was when you realized that you’d broken down her walls completely, and oh you were insufferable. Because the way she looked at you? The way her eyes lit up, her lips slowly curling into a stupidly perfect grin? People would go to war to have someone look at them like that.

You were so head over heels in love with Alexia.

—

Being Alexia’s girlfriend—or wag, as you learned of the term on the internet—was more than you could ever dream of.

You still worked part time at the café where you two met while juggling your studies to finish your master degree. On weekends, you would support Alexia on her games. Cheering her on, not caring about anything else except when Alexia had the ball on her feet.

You were happy in the bubble you and Alexia created.

That was until one Saturday night, you were seated at your usual seat at the stadium among friends and families of the players, when someone plopped down on the seat next to you.

You still weren’t that familiar with football, having only been to ten games in total. You knew the rules, you knew a couple of Alexia’s teammates after stalking them online (you two were still keeping your relationship a secret from everyone else), but that was mostly it.

So you didn’t know who the person next to you was until she offered a small smile, outstretching her hand for you to shake.

Jenni.

The name was a bit familiar, so was her face. You couldn’t quite place where you’ve seen her before though.

“Who do you know on the team?” her voice brought you out of your daydream, wracking your brain on why she looked familiar.

“Uhm,” you stuttered. Right. This was the friends and family section, you couldn’t sit here if you didn’t know anyone. “Alexia.”

Jenni was surprised, you could tell with the way her eyes widened for a split second, not expecting your answer. “Friend of Ale’s, huh?”

You didn’t like how she said your girlfriend’s name. With that hint of… fondness. You suddenly felt a possessive feeling growing in your chest and you just wanted to tell everyone that Alexia is yours.

Jenni stared at the field, her eyes fixating on Alexia. You could see an affectionate smile on her face and that was when it clicked. You’ve seen her on Alexia's Instagram before. Jenni used to be her teammate at Barcelona before she moved to Mexico.

You knew this because in the picture, Jenni was smiling at Alexia the same way. And even though your Spanish wasn’t spectacular, you remembered reading the paragraph Alexia wrote for Jenni and getting the hint at how close they were with how Alexia seemed to think so highly of Jenni.

“You’re her teammate, yeah?”

Jenni turned back to look at you, nodding. “I don’t play for Barça anymore, but we still play on the national team together.”

“Cool.”

Jenni gave a small laugh. “You don’t know much about football, do you?”

You grimaced, “Is it that obvious?”

“Don’t worry about it,” she patted your arm in what was meant to be a comforting gesture, but it made you feel even more stupid and out of place in this whole stadium, where everyone knew what they were getting into when they bought tickets to the game. “It’s just that—not trying to sound arrogant or anything—but usually people know who I am because I used to play for this team. So you not recognizing me straight away gave me the clue that you’re probably not a Culer.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Culer?”

“Fans of the club.”

“Ah.” You were definitely not a Barcelona fan. You were a fan of your girlfriend though, and if that meant you had to be a Culer or whatever it was, then you would be.

So when you laid down in Alexia’s bed that night, you mentioned to her that starting from today, you were a Culer. She burst out laughing and you can feel her grip you tighter, having your face completely smashed against her neck—not that you minded, you had always felt so content being pressed up against Alexia.

“Mi amor,” she cooed, looking down to face you, her hand finding its way to its favourite resting place on your cheek. “When did you learn that?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, starting to feel a bit insecure at this whole thing. “Well, we’ve been dating for three months now—next week it would be four—and I still don’t know shit about football, but, Ale… I’d be a Culer for you.”

Alexia giggled and pecked your lips, smiling your favourite smile of hers (the one that made her eyes sparkle and the small dimples on her cheek to come out).

“You’re perfect, did you know? I love you whether you’re a Culer or not.”

“Hm,” you pretended to be deep in thought. “Then what if I become a Real Madrid fan?”

Alexia gave you an unimpressed look. “Don’t push it.”

“I’m going to Madrid next week with a couple of my friends and maybe I could catch a game—”

And Alexia did what had become her favourite thing to do: interrupting your ramble with a kiss. You had a love-hate relationship with the gesture, because while you do love having her soft lips on yours, it was so annoying to be cut off mid-sentence.

You never complained though. You’d happily get interrupted if it meant having Alexia kiss you like you were the last person on earth.

That night, you buried your uneasiness as a result of your encounter with Jenni deep, deep inside.

(You didn’t know just how important Jenni was to Alexia.)

—

Jenni was in town for a couple of days, you’d later learn.

You would usually go to Alexia’s after you were done for the day, mostly spending the night at hers. That was why Alexia ended up giving you a spare key—so you would be able to come as you please.

It wasn’t unusual for you to have to use your spare key. What was unusual was the sight of Jenni sitting on your girlfriend’s couch, looking surprised at you barging into your girlfriend’s home.

“Hi…” you gave an awkward small wave at her, closing the door behind you as you slowly stepped inside the apartment.

“Oh! Y/N, right?” Jenni stood up to face you and you could tell that this was very much awkward for her as it was for you. “Nice to meet you again.”

You gave her your best smile, trying your hardest not to be rude as you scan the place for any sight of your favourite blonde. “Is… Alexia here?”

“I have no idea where she is honestly,” at that you couldn’t help the way your eyebrows rose to the top of your head. “I’m in Barcelona for a couple of days. I was supposed to meet her tomorrow morning for breakfast but I don’t think I’ll be able to make it. So I figured I’d meet her tonight instead. I have an extra key so…”

You didn’t like what you were hearing at all, but you kept your cool. That was the jealousy inside of you, you knew this. Jenni’s a friend. You really should tone down your green-eyed monster.

“What are you doing here?” It was Jenni’s turn to ask you.

“I, too, have a spare key,” you intended to joke about the situation, but your tone felt off and Jenni can sense it too.

Jenni had a lot of questions, you could tell. It was easy to read the emotions on her face.

You had to remind yourself that she didn’t know you were dating Alexia. She didn’t know that you basically spent more nights here than at your own place. It was natural to be curious as to why there was a random girl showing up at your best friend’s house at 10 pm, with her own sets of keys nonetheless.

Wanting to get out of the awkward situation, you excused yourself, saying you’d meet Alexia some other time, bidding Jenni goodbye.

You texted Alexia a simple good night once you settled in your bed.

When Alexia responded back with a short text back, sweet dreams, mi amor, and not a phone call asking why you weren’t in her bed, you let that feeling of uneasiness return to the surface.

—

You didn’t get to overthink for too long because when you wake up, it was because you felt your bed dip and the familiar scent of your girlfriend engulfing you as she settled behind you.

“Bon dia,” Alexia whispered, wrapping her arms around your waist, pulling you to her. “I missed you last night.”

You turned around to burrow your face into her collarbones, letting out a content sigh. “Missed you too.”

“Jenni told me you visited my place but left immediately.”

At the mention of her name, you froze. What a way to ruin the moment. “Yeah,” was all you replied, which was weird to Alexia considering how talkative you were in the mornings.

“Why didn’t you wait for me, bebita? You always wait for me even when I’m not home.”

You shrugged, “Jenni was there already.”

Alexia went still for a moment, which you thought was odd.

You wanted so badly to keep quiet, but the

nagging feelings that you couldn’t shake grew stronger. “She has a spare key too. Do you just go around giving keys to your apartment to everyone? I thought I was special,” you chuckled, meaning it to be a joke, waiting for Alexia to respond with her usual snarky retort.

When Alexia didn’t say anything, you pulled back from her, looking up to stare at her face. She was looking anywhere but you.

“Ale? I’m only kidding. I know she’s your friend.”

Alexia cleared her throat, “You see…”

You sat up, something about her tone brought up that uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“Jenni’s my ex.”

Ah. That definitely burst the bubble you’d carefully created.

You gave a bitter laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. “So your ex still has a key to your place,” you stated. You were about to swallow your sentence when you suddenly felt anger rising in your chest with how blindsided you were. “Did she spend the night?”

Alexia looked like a deer caught in the headlights. You felt sick.

“That’s a yes.”

“Amor…”

You shook of her touch and went to stand up. You looked at the blonde in your bed and you felt your heart crushed. You hated how Alexia looked like a kicked puppy, immediately scrambling to chase after you once she realized you were leaving the room.

“Y/N, it’s not what you think—”

“Your ex still has a key to your place and she stayed the night,” you were mostly repeating it to yourself, trying to wrap your head around the fact somehow.

“She slept on the couch!” Alexia interjected. “Nothing happened, amor, I swear.”

You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. You didn’t want to fight with Alexia. Besides, deep down you knew that Alexia wasn’t the type of person to be unfaithful.

“Okay,” you relented, opening your fridge with the aim of making breakfast, trying to busy yourself with something that wasn’t looking at your girlfriend.

Alexia didn’t seem convinced that you’d drop the subject just like that. “There's nothing going on between Jenni and I. She's a good friend.”

You grabbed an empty bowl. “Okay.” You scooped some yogurt out of its jar and placed a spoonful in your bowl. Jenni’s a good friend. Just a friend.

“Mi vida… I know it’s… weird? To still be friends with an ex, but…”

You poured some granola on top of your yogurt. Who the hell stayed friends with their ex? Alexia. Sweet, lovely Alexia.

Looking down at your bowl and seeing a sad, miserable breakfast (just like how you were feeling), you pinched the bridge of your nose, feeling a small headache coming through. You felt like crying but that seemed pathetic so you shoved the feeling away. Jenni was an ex, but she was a good friend. You had to live with that.

“I trust you, Ale,” you sighed. “If you say she’s a good friend, then I trust you.”

She went up behind you and rested her chin on your shoulder, her arms encircling your waist. “I love you,” she whispered into your shoulder, placing a kiss on the exposed skin. “I really do. Jenni and I broke up ages ago.”

They broke up ages ago. That was grand. You were fine. People stayed friends with their ex and nothing happened. Right?

When you didn’t say anything else, just continuing to stare at your breakfast, Alexia poked your side. “Hey,” she placed a peck on your back. “Please don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad, love.” More like jealous. Or fucking devastated that your girlfriend’s ex was a sexy footballer just like herself. How could you ever compete with that?

“Y/N,” Alexia’s voice brought you out of your thoughts. “Babygirl.”

At that you couldn’t help the laughter that escaped your lips. You turned around to face her, her arms stayed trapping you against the counter. “Please don't call me that ever again.”

“Why?” Alexia smirked, her face inching closer to yours.

“I hate it, Ale, por favor,” you groaned.

Alexia grinned at you, pecking your lips “Hm. I love when you speak Spanish.”

And when Alexia kissed you, any thoughts of your girlfriend’s ex escaped your brain completely.

Alexia chose you. So what if she still hung out with her ex? Plenty of people do. Plus, you trust Alexia. You had nothing to worry about.

—

Apparently it wasn’t Alexia you had to worry about. It was yourself. You were your own worst enemy and all that.

You didn’t mean to let the thoughts run loose.

When Jenni left for Mexico, you were elated. No more running into your girlfriend’s ex and no more ex-girlfriend trying to steal your girlfriend’s time away from you.

You didn’t factor in the fact that Alexia and Jenni were national teammates. So when international break came and both Alexia and Jenni were called up to camp in Portugal…

You felt like you were going crazy.

You knew you were being dumb, but you couldn’t help it. You didn't think that Alexia would cheat on you—that possibility never crossed your mind.

You just couldn’t help but feel incomparible to Jenni.

That was how you went into a rabbit hole of watching every Alexia and Jenni videos on the internet.

It was a mistake, really. A stupid, terrible mistake, because you could see how well they fit together.

Their chemistry on and off the field were something else, you kinda felt stupid to think that Jenni was the one ruining your relationship when it could very well be that you were the one preventing Alexia from being with someone who truly gets her.

Because you were sure that Jenni understood Alexia in ways that you may never do. They had been through thick and thin together—Alexia’s injury, the issue with the Spanish Federation—they won countless of football championships together, for god's sake.

And how exactly were you supposed to compete with that? Alexia lived and breathed football, you wouldn’t step foot inside a football match if your girlfriend wasn't on the team.

You didn’t get this world of hers and you knew that you never would.

Unlike Jenni. This was her world already.

They'd be perfect together—they were perfect together.

You hated how you were able to let your thoughts spiral as you stared at another video of Jenni looking at Alexia like she was the only person in the room.

You knew Alexia loved you, you had no doubt about that, and you loved her too. But maybe Jenni could love her better.

Jenni was perfect for Alexia in ways that you weren’t. With that thought replaying in your head, you turned off your phone and kept it locked inside your drawer.

You were never one to be obsessed with your phone, having gone days without it and being absolutely fine. So that was what you did. Mostly because you didn't want to talk to Alexia.

You couldn’t handle it if Alexia came to the same realization as you—that you were nothing compared to Jenni and she could very much just get back together with her ex.

Just imagining it crushed your heart into bits so you tried your best to push it away as you went through your day.

—

Alexia decided to leave camp a day earlier than she was supposed to. She said she had a family emergency to attend to, which was true, considering you had yet to respond to any of her calls or texts. She must’ve sounded so desperate to return back to Barcelona, causing them to reluctantly let her go.

She got on the first plane available and went straight home. Usually you would stay over at hers when she was out of town, claiming that you always missed her when she wasn’t around and having her scent engulf you was the next best thing.

However, when Alexia entered her apartment and there were no signs of you, she dropped her bag and hurriedly got into her car to drive to yours. She thanked god that your place was only five minutes away.

Quickly putting her car into park, she tried to regulate her breathing and convinced herself that you were fine.

You were fine. You had to be. You were fine when Alexia left for the airport just a week ago.

With the thought that you maybe broke your phone or lost it, Alexia inserted the spare key you gave her and unlocked the door.

You weren’t in the living room. Or the kitchen. So that left one more place. Knocking softly on your bedroom door, she called out your name. When she didn’t get a reply, she let herself in.

No one was there, or in the bathroom. Sighing to herself, she made her way back to the living room and laid down on the couch.

Alexia was never the one to cry easily but she really wanted to. She had no idea where you were, or if you were safe. Never had she felt so helpless before.

This was maybe her fault for wanting to keep you two a secret.

Now she couldn’t contact any of your friends because she didn’t know them.

She took a deep breath and willed herself to focus on where you could be. The café you work at, perhaps? But it was a Sunday and you didn’t work on Sundays because Alexia didn’t have anything to do either and Sundays were your lounging-around-in-bed-until-lunch-time type of days.

Maybe you were at the library. You were going to have your exams next week. Alexia already had your schedule memorized. But it was nearing midnight and you never—

“Ale?” you couldn’t help the surprise in your tone. “Aren’t you supposed to still be at camp?”

Alexia jumped a foot in the air, mostly because she didn’t hear you come in and was scared shitless but also because oh my god, she could finally breathe now that you were okay.

Alexia immediately wrapped her arms around you, she felt like she never wanted to let you go. Ever. “And you’re supposed to reply to my calls, amor.”

Well.

“My phone’s broken.”

Alexia pulled back and looked at you, her face telling you that she didn’t quite believe you.

“My phone’s lost…?” you tried again, giving her a sheepish smile. You were starting to feel bad for ignoring her.

Alexia only sighed in response, dropping on the couch and pulling you to sit on her lap. “I’m just glad you’re okay, mi vida. I was really worried.”

You felt even guiltier now. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think you’d be.”

You were taken aback at the look of pure disbelief on Alexia’s face at your words. You really didn’t think she’d worry about you—with having to go to training everyday, hanging out with her national teammates, having Jenni around.

“That’s…” Alexia shook her head, trying to get her words out. “That’s ridiculous, amor. Why would I not be worried about you?”

You shrugged. “You’re busy, love. I’d understand.”

Alexia quickly shook her head, you were afraid she'd get whiplash with how frantic her movements were. “I am always busy during camp, sí, but never too busy enough for you? Did I do something to make you feel like I would not have time for you? I didn’t realize—”

Now it was your turn to silence her with a kiss, which was a rare occurrence—cool, calm Alexia never rambled.

You felt her sigh against your mouth, her whispers of a soft “te amo mucho” made you go completely limp in her arms.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” you reassured her. “It’s just me, don’t worry about it.”

“I will always have time for you and I will always worry about you. Because I love you.”

You smiled at her, despite having the worst feeling in the pit of your stomach you still believe her whenever she said it to you. “I love you too, Ale. I’m sorry for worrying you.”

She was still looking at you with worry etched on her face. “Anything else on your pretty mind?”

You felt that if you voiced your thoughts out loud, you’d sound like a crazy, jealous girlfriend and you didn’t want that. So you simply said nothing and laid your head on her chest.

This was fine. You were in Alexia’s arms. Jenni was far away in Mexico. (Well, Portugal right now, but she’d eventually return to Mexico).

You promised yourself you wouldn't let your insane, full of jealousy thoughts ruin what you had with Alexia.

—

People found out about you and Alexia a month later. And by people, that meant the whole damn earth.

Since you never mentioned Alexia to your friends—just casually mentioning that you were seeing someone, but not necessarily specifying who exactly you were dating—the moment your pictures with alexia blew up on the internet, so did your phone.

They were candid pictures of you and Alexia at the beach. Private candid pictures.

You unlocked your phone and scrolled through the countless texts from your friends.

how did you manage to bag THE alexia putellas???

idiota text me back wtf!!!

did you blackmail her oh my god you genius

Which were definitely rude. And didn’t help at all the voices at the back of your head screaming that you weren't good enough for Alexia.

It was a hellish morning.

The only thing saving it was the sound of keys at the front door, and a moment later your girlfriend was stepping inside your apartment, humming happily as she placed a bag of groceries on the kitchen counter. She most likely hadn’t seen the pictures yet.

“Ale,” you called out, giving her a weak smile as she turned her head towards you.

“Hola, mi amor,” Alexia instantly furrowing her brows at the sight of you sitting on the couch. “Whats wrong?”

You hated how she could read you so well. “What makes you think something’s wrong?”

She flopped down on the couch next to you, wrapping her arm around your shoulders and bringing you into her side. You left out the biggest sigh and just handed her your phone, where the pictures of the two of you were still open.

You felt Alexia stiffen up and you closed your eyes, willing that this wasn't the end for you two. You knew just how much Alexia valued her privacy.

It was silent for a minute or so, alexia tapping away on your phone.

“Lo siento,” Alexia pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “I already restricted the comments on your Instagram, you shouldn’t be dealing with all that. People can be a bit… much sometimes.”

Oh. You hadn't even thought to check your Instagram page. You were glad though, you couldn't imagine what vile things people were saying about you. It must be bad enough that that was where Alexia immediately thought to go.

“Is it that bad?” you voiced out, pulling back so you could see Alexia’s face. She looked surprisingly calm. “Babe, how are you so calm about this?”

“The comments on your posts are a lot, but I didn’t read them,” Alexia said simply. “It can be overwhelming, that's why I wanted to shield you from all of that. When you're ready you can just turn it back on.”

You smiled at how thoughtful she was. You really loved her. “You don't have to shield me from anything, Ale. I can handle a few nasty comments. You also haven’t answered my question.”

Alexia looked questioningly at you, grabbing at your arms to pull you closer again.

You settled nicely in her arms, your back pressing against her front as she laid down on the couch. “What question?”

“How you’re so calm about all of this.”

“Ah,” you can feel Alexia's chuckle and you turn around. You were now facing her again (your favorite thing to do—who would ever be tired of staring at Alexia’s face). You placed both of your hands on her face and ran your fingers through her jaw. “I’m anything but calm, bebita. You should feel my heart.”

“I can feel it.”

“Then you know I’m not calm.”

“You are the epitome of calm right now, baby,” you laughed, the nerves still shimmering across your entire body, whereas Alexia looked like it was just a regular Saturday for her.

Alexia took a deep breath and placed her hand on top of yours. “I’m scared. That is the truth. I’m really, really scared. But I know we will get through this. Together. As long as I have you and you have me, I think everything will be alright.”

You smiled at her, truly feeling how she meant her words. You pecked her lips and went back to snuggle into her, your head resting perfectly in the crook of her neck.

“I love you, Ale. You have me. Always.”

—

The next few weeks passed by in a blur. You finally got introduced to Alexia’s friends—Alexia brought you to Lucy and Ona’s housewarming party for their new place. Everyone loved you and you felt like you fit right in. It was great. You felt happy.

(You didn't let the thoughts of why it took a media outlet leaking your pictures for Alexia to bring you around to meet the people in her life, but you cast it aside.)

You met up with your friends and finally told them about Alexia. They were all wary, thinking it was too good to be true. A couple of snide remarks were thrown around about how Alexia could do better, even though your friends said it in a joking way, it still hurt.

But you managed by.

The next thing you knew you were being introduced to Eli and Alba.

It went fine, the most important people in your girlfriend's life seemed to like you, asking you questions about all sorts of things.

It wasn't until Alba casually mentioned how she was going to Mexico with some of her friends and how she would be staying with Jenni the whole week that you realized how closely intertwined Jenni was with Alexia’s life.

Your girlfriend's little sister lighting up as she mentioned all the places Jenni was planning on taking her to. You realized that Alba grew up with Jenni and she most likely saw Jenni as her big sister too; how devastated was she when Alexia and Jenni broke up and Jenni would never officially be a part of their family?

Going home that night, your mind was filled with how Alba and Eli were most likely comparing you to Jenni. Once again you were met with the question that seemed to always bother you: how were you supposed to compete with Jenni Hermoso?

—

The next thing you knew it was time for the World Cup. A very big deal for your girlfriend.

Especially since this was her first big tournament after suffering her injury.

You flew to support her, occasionally meeting with Alba and Eli for lunch (you knew you wouldn’t live up to Jenni, but you could try to make them like you better).

They hadn't given an indication that they disliked you, but just to be safe, you were willing to go the extra mile to make your girlfriend's family like you. You didn't have a decade-long history with them, but you could meet up with them to eat sushi even though you hated eating raw fish.

A small price to pay. Alba was really craving salmon sashimi.

At night, Alexia called you, telling you about her day. Mostly, you let her stay in the zone, you knew how important this was for her; you never called her first, letting her take the lead. You didn't want to be a distraction.

You two have talked about this before. You, scared that you'd be a distraction and Alexia looking at you as if that was the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard. Alexia reassured you that you'd never be a distraction and nothing had to change.

You were nervous. You didn't know what being a wag entailed during a big tournament.

It went fine though and your best friends did told you that you were worrying for nothing.

(You still couldn't ignore the nagging feeling that Alexia was spending basically every waking moment with Jenni. But it was fine. Jenni was her teammate. They support each other in different ways.)

Alexia called you every night, some nights Alexia fell asleep with the call still connected and you were left to longingly stare at her, longing to be there next to your girlfriend.

Despite her reassurance that she wanted you to bother her, you didn’t want to seem like a needy girlfriend.

So you toned down your texts, looking at updates of your girlfriend through Instagram (it was a bit pathetic). When you tapped on the next Instagram story and it was a video of Alexia giggling with Jenni, you almost lost it. Almost.

They were friends. Best friends. Exes, yes, but their relationship went beyond that. You knew this. You’ve spent hours down the rabbit hole of reading their history on some blog.

And once again you were left to wonder why Alexia chose you when she can be with her soulmate.

It was an endless cycle and you knew you couldn't go on like this. You had to talk to your girlfriend about your insecurities and just hope that she wasn’t going to think you were silly.

For now though, you were ready to cheer her on as she took the biggest stage in her career.

All the best teams in the world were great, but Spain was better. Alexia was a superstar, like always.

So of course Spain won the World Cup, you had no doubt about it.

What you didn't expect was Alexia exchanging jerseys with Jenni out of all people. You bit your tongue, the cheers all around you didn't do much to drown the thumping of your heartbeat in your ears.

You loved your girlfriend, you were so proud of her.

But as your sweet girlfriend celebrated on the pitch with her ex’s name on her chest, you never knew pain like this.

They were World Champions together. How could you even compete with that? It wasn't your name that Alexia was proudly showing off to the world.

You and Alexia’s family were then escorted backstage. You waited, and waited, swallowing the bitter feeling in your chest. You were happy for Alexia, you really were. But was it necessary to trade jerseys with Jenni?

Before you knew it, Alexia came barrelling towards you. J. HERMOSO visible across her chest.

You hugged her, whispered how proud of her you were, and when Alexia was whisked off for media duties, you prayed that she wouldn’t come to the same conclusion as you.

Alexia and Jenni had years of memories, years of going through the ups and downs of football together. Them winning the World Cup together just added another notable piece to their already intricate history.

Jenni Hermoso was a million times better than you, her winning the World Cup just sealed it even more.

—

You let Alexia celebrate with her teammates, desperately trying to ignore the sinking feeling in your chest as you waited for her in your hotel room.

She insisted you come along, but you declined, not wanting to rain on her parade.

When Alexia stumbled into your hotel room later into the night, you traded sweet nothings into each other’s ears as you let Alexia do whatever she wanted to you.

You felt loved, but you still couldn’t shake the nagging feeling in your chest that Alexia could love Jenni better.

—

Being back in Barcelona felt nice.

You were a million miles away from Jenni but still the feeling of insecurity lingered. You knew you had to talk to Alexia soon before it ate you alive.

You just didn't think that it’d blow up to an argument.

You went out with your friends for lunch, promising Alexia that you’d be back in time for your weekly movie nights.

When you entered your shared home you were met with Alexia lying horizontally on your couch.

She was laughing at the TV, too engrossed in whatever she was watching that she hadn’t noticed you coming in.

You went straight to the kitchen, rummaging around your fridge to look for something to do. You weren’t hungry after the lunch you had, but you just wanted to do something. Your hands were full of nerves, mostly due to the annoyance radiating off you.

You were annoyed at your friends and how they kept on making comments about you and Alexia. They didn’t mean any harm, but it got too much.

Before your thoughts wandered further, you felt a pair of arms snake around your waist.

“I didn’t hear you get in.”

You hummed, looking at the ingredients in front of you. Guess you were making some banana bread.

You could feel Alexia’s gaze on you as you basically ignored her. Alexia always knew when something was up with you.

“Is everything okay? Why are you baking?”

You shrugged, getting the necessary equipment from the cupboard.

“Y/N?”

“I just feel like baking,” you didn’t mean to sound curt. Alexia immediately loosened her grip on you, leaning against the counter as she searched for your eyes.

“Okay… Well, do you want me to help?”

“Not really.” You knew you weren’t being fair—Alexia didn’t do anything wrong—but you had your reasons.

Your reasons were the comments your friends made that reinforced the thoughts you had been carrying around for months. You were insecure, disgruntled, and dejected all at once.

You paused for a second before blurting out, “Why didn't you want anyone to know about us?”

Alexia froze. The conversation thrown around during lunch earlier kept echoing in your head.

“Was keeping it a secret Alexia’s idea?”

“Why though? Is she ashamed of you or something?”

“Is it true that she used to date Jenni Hermoso?”

“If I used to date Jenni Hermoso then I would never—well, I wouldn’t say downgrade, but…”

“Hey, that’s just mean! Alexia didn’t downgrade with Y/N!”

“You’re seriously picking Y/N over Jenni Hermoso? Y/N, you know I love you, but let’s be serious for a second.”

“Ale, are you embarrassed of me?”

“What?” Alexia was taken aback at your question, a bewildered look settling on her face. “I am not embarrassed of you. Where is this coming from?”

You scoffed. “Then why didn’t you want people to know about us? About me?”

Alexia was speechless for a second, not expecting that this was where the conversation was going. “Because my world can be harsh and I just want to protect you from it. I told you this, amor. We’ve had this conversation before.”

While that used to sound sweet, now it just irritated you.

“Yeah, but I can handle it.”

Alexia gave you a look that said she didn't believe you. You felt offended. Sure, you were an overly emotional person, but you were sure you could handle it. You were handling it. There were people who spewed out nasty comments about you on the internet everyday but you brushed them off—none of their opinions matter to you.

Your girlfriend’s opinions matter to you.

“Glad to know you think so highly of me,” you sarcastically said, angrily slamming the bananas on the counter. This conversation was really getting on your nerves. You almost wished you didn't bring it up in the first place.

Alexia let out a sigh. “It’s not that I don’t have any faith in you. I just want to protect you. The last time I was in a relationship, it was with someone in the football field,” you hoped she didn’t notice how you immediately stiffen. “I didn’t have to worry so much because she knew how it was—”

You suddenly were so irritated at the reminder of Jenni that you snapped. “I know I’m not Jenni!”

Alexia was surprised at your sudden outburst.

“Qué? I know you are not her—”

“But you wish I was.”

Alexia looked so taken aback at your accusation that you immediately felt guilty for ever saying it.

“…What?”

But it seems that despite the guilt you felt, the pent up anger inside you was overflowing, desperate to let itself out.

“Jenni is perfect, Jenni plays football, Jenni can handle the media, Jenni knows all your friends and family. Everyone likes Jenni better than me!”

“Amor, no! That’s— Where is this coming from?”

You almost wished you didn’t mention any of this in the first place with the way Alexia was looking at you like a blindsided, kicked puppy.

You wanted to try to explain your side of things to her. You felt like your feelings about this whole thing were valid, albeit you could definitely handle it differently. Like, not bottling things up until they eventually blew up.

“You’re still good friends with your ex, Ale,” was all you could come up with.

“…Yes? We went through a lot together; she was a big part of my life.” At that you rolled your eyes. Obviously she was a big part of Alexia’s life. Weren’t all exes a big part of our lives at some point?

When you didn't say anything else and continued to prepare for your banana bread, Alexia continued, “It wasn't a bad breakup... We just decided that we were better off as friends.”

Honestly, you’ve had enough of hearing about Jenni.

“That’s exactly it, isn't it? You two went through a lot together, Ale. You won the freaking World Cup together and you went around parading her name on your chest while I was at the stands cheering you on despite having to see you with your ex’s name on all the fucking pictures of you and the trophy. And yeah she lives all the way in Mexico but you have international camps together while I'm at home, watching Instagram stories of you two, wondering why you're still giving me the time of the day when you could be with someone like her? For god’s sake Ale, she's hot! I get it! I do! And she’s 5’9 and I’m not—”

“Amor, stop,” Alexia interrupted your rambling, stepping closer to you but you didn't let her, shaking your head and taking a step away. “Y/N, I had no idea you felt that way—”

“It’s stupid. Forget it.” Embarrassment filled your cheeks.

“No, no, it’s not. It’s not stupid if you feel that way, my love. I’m so, so sorry that I didn't realize how this was making you feel.”

You sighed. It wasn’t Alexia’s fault, you knew that. You should've told her. It wasn't her fault because she didn't know.

You were now even more embarrassed that you let it turn into such a big deal.

So you took one last look at your girlfriend and ran out the door.

—

An hour into your aimless walk, you realized that you didn’t bring your phone with you, which meant you couldn’t Uber your way back home.

You realized that this meant you couldn’t call anyone to pick you up.

To make it worse, the sky started to rumble, signaling that the possibility of a heavy rain was coming sooner than you think.

Everything felt like a disaster.

You slumped down on a nearby bench. You knew where you were, you had no trouble getting home without Google maps. But it was an hour walk here, which meant it would be another hour walk home.

You groaned, thinking of the best way out of this predicament you put yourself in.

It was nearing midnight, but Barcelona had always been a lively place, so there were still plenty of passersby. You could ask to borrow someone’s phone, call Alexia, and wait until she picked you up.

But that would mean a random stranger would have Alexia’s number on their phone. You didn’t know if people would recognize you and put two and two together on who you were calling. You didn’t want to take that risk.

You could call one of your friends, but you didn’t remember any of their numbers.

The only number you knew by heart was Alexia’s.

Placing your hands over your face, you took a deep breath and pushed back the stinging feeling behind your eyes. You couldn’t cry. You really wanted to because of how pathetic you were, but you couldn’t. You’d just feel even worse.

With every minute that passed by, you started to feel even more guilty at the thought of how worried Alexia must be.

Standing up, you decided you could just borrow someone’s Uber app, or even hail a taxi from somewhere. You decided that you had to go home right now. Alexia must be driving herself crazy when she realized you weren’t one call away.

Just when you were about to step into the direction of two friendly-looking strangers, the first droplet fell on top of your head.

“Fuck.”

Soon enough, the rain went down heavily. Everyone started running in all directions, trying to shield themselves from the pouring rain and you were left standing there, feeling sorry for yourself because great now you were stranded and drenched.

You sat back down and let the rain wash over you, finally letting out the sobs you were withholding.

You had a lot of thoughts in your head, but mostly, you just wanted Alexia. You wanted her right now. If you weren’t such a jealous girlfriend, you wouldn’t be in this situation. You wouldn’t be questioning her decade-long friendship with one of her best friends.

You wouldn’t—

“Amor!”

You whipped your head up and despite the water blocking your eyesight, you could always tell that it was your girlfriend’s figure running towards you.

You were a sobbing mess, sitting all alone in the rain in the middle of Barcelona, but still Alexia managed to find you. Alexia was drenched all over too, no umbrella in sight, as she kneeled down on the pavement and brought your crying face into her neck.

Alexia pulled back and you could tell that she had been crying too. Great. You felt a million times worse now.

“What the hell are you doing?! You didn’t have your phone with you, I didn’t know where you were!”

“I’m sorry,” you cried out, your voice barely audible due to the heavy patter of the rain. “I walked for a long time and I ended up here and it was an hour away and I didn’t have my phone, I couldn’t get back home without walking another hour and my feet are killing me and I feel so bad because you must be so worried and it’s all my fault! And now you’re here, I don’t know how you managed to find me but I’m so glad you’re here and oh my god—we’re both probably gonna be sick. I’m sorry! I love you, Ale, I’m so sorry!”

“Hey, hey,” Alexia cooed, placing her forehead against yours. “It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re okay. I love you too, please stop crying, mi amorcita. It’s okay.”

You took a deep breath, which didn’t end up helping because having water fall over your head made breathing a bit harder.

Alexia placed a kiss on your forehead, standing up and pulling you against her.

You felt yourself sag against her, Alexia holding you upright. “Can we go home? I’m really cold.”

“Of course, mi vida. Let’s go home.”

—

Once you got into Alexia’s car, you started to cry again.

Mostly because it was warm and you were so relieved, but also because you felt bad that you were flooding her car with your wet clothes.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?”

Alexia placed her hands on your cheeks, wiping away your tears.

“I’m ruining your leather seats. Your car is ruined.”

Alexia let out a laugh. You looked at her like she was crazy. “Stop laughing at me,” you cried out. “Ale.”

“Oh, bebé,” Alexia tugged you across the console, wanting to pull you close once more. “I’m not laughing at you, I promise.”

“Then?”

“You’re too cute, you know? This will all dry up, amor. Besides, you’re not the only one whose clothes are wet. Look at me.”

You knew Alexia was trying to cheer you up, but at the reminder that the reason Alexia was soaked in the first place was because of you, you felt your bottom lip start to wobble.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “Now we’re both gonna freeze to death.”

Alexia simply placed a kiss on your cheek, putting the car in gear. “I won’t let you freeze to death.”

Looking out the window and seeing the familiar route home, you felt at peace even though you were still trembling from your wet clothing.

You didn’t know what state you would be in had Alexia not found you.

“Ale.”

She looked at you for a split second before redirecting her gaze on the road. “Hm?”

“How did you even find me?”

You saw the smirk before she could answer. “It’s called telepathy, amor.”

“Ale. I’m serious.”

“I’m serious too,” Alexia shrugged, a coy smile on her lips. “It’s our connection, Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes at her antics. “Whatever. Idiota.”

Alexia laughed, her hand blindly searching for yours. You let her take your hand, the touch causing warmth to settle deep in your chest.

You didn’t let go of her hand all the way home.

—

After taking a warm shower, you laid on your side of the bed, waiting for Alexia to finish with hers.

(Alexia decided to shower in the guest bathroom, not wanting to invade your privacy in case you were still mad at her.)

(You quickly rebutted her statement and said that you weren’t ‘mad’ at her, just ‘annoyed’.)

Just when you were about to call out her name because Alexia was taking too long when she could shower in under five minutes, your girlfriend appeared, leaning against the doorway of your shared bedroom, a sheepish smile on her face.

“Can I still sleep with you or should I stay in the guest bedroom?”

You gestured for her to join you on the bed, relief falling on Alexia’s face as she approached you.

Once you were both under the covers, Alexia immediately resumed her position as the big spoon. You placed your hand over hers that was draped across your stomach, feeling a wave of contentment wash over you.

“Can we talk about it?” Alexia whispered.

You didn’t want to. You were embarrassed. But you knew you had to. So you took a deep breath and let out everything you had been feeling for months—how you knew Alexia loved you, but oftentimes your thoughts took over and convinced you that Alexia couldn’t love you fully, not really. Especially knowing that she could have someone as perfect as Jenni.

“Y/N, I don’t want Jenni. I’m not in love with her anymore. You have to believe me.”

“But she’s… she’s perfect for you.”

“You’re perfect for me. It’s you I’m in love with. It’s you I love, Y/N.”

You turned around at the way Alexia’s voice was shaking, which was usually the tell-tale signs that she was about to cry.

And sure enough, Alexia had tears welling up in her eyes and that broke you. Your girlfriend was never one to cry often so the sight made you crumble and realize just how much she was telling the truth.

You reached out and wiped away her tears that managed to escape, placing a soft kiss on her nose. “Please don’t cry, Ale. I’m sorry—“

“Don’t apologize,” Alexia interjected. “You have nothing to apologize for, baby. I’m just sad because you can’t see how amazing you are. It pains me that you don’t see yourself the way I see you.”

“I guess I just can't wrap my head around the fact that you can have someone like Jenni, yet you’re choosing to be with someone like me.”

“Hey, don't be mean to my girlfriend,” Alexia turned serious, staring right into your eyes as she speak. “She’s perfect to me. She’s the only one I’ll ever want. Ever.”

You stayed quiet, taking in her words. You still didn't know what Alexia saw in you, but with the fierce stare full of determination she was wearing, you were starting to believe her. Believe that there were amazing qualities about you that made Alexia fall head over heels in love with you.

“You promise that you’ll love me even though I’m nowhere near as good as Jenni at football and I’m not as famous as her—Ale, I don’t have a World Cup trophy…”

“Y/N, my love, of course I do. I promise. I love you. I do, with all my heart.”

You took a deep breath and nodded. “I’m still going to have my insecurities. They’re not going away just like that.”

“I understand, amor,” Alexia placed her hands on your cheeks, caressing them gently, you could feel her love for you seeping from her fingers. “I’ll tell you everyday that you're all I’ll ever need until you believe me.”

You didn't have to be a footballer and you didn't have to go and win a World Cup, Alexia would still love you for who you were.

—

The opening game of the season fell on your birthday. You were seated at your usual seat with Alba and Eli. Eli had organized a small party after the game, she had baked you a birthday cake and wanted you to blow out the candles before your birthday dinner with Alexia.

When your girlfriend went out to the pitch, your jaw dropped. Instead of wearing her usual 11, she was wearing your birthdate on her back.

She easily spotted you in the stands, pointing at her back then pointing at you. This is for you, you could hear her message loud and clear.

You could cry right there and then. (You did cry).

Later Alexia uploaded her usual post-match Instagram post. The pictures of her wearing the jersey with your number made it extra special, especially the video she included of herself running over to you, lifting you up in her arms, and spinning you around—the happiness radiating from the two of you clearly visible.

The cherry on top was the caption underneath:

special numbers today in honour of my girl’s birthday. te amo mucho, amor @y/n 🥰❤️

All those fears of being not good enough, all those fears of Jenni replacing you, you now thought it was all so silly.

Because you knew without a doubt how much Alexia loved you.

“What are you daydreaming about?”

“Nothing,” you shrugged, a cheeky smile on your face. “Just thinking about how dumb you look with that birthday hat on.”

“Hey! This is all for you, amor!”

You laughed at her pout, the pointy birthday hat still sitting on top of her head.

You were at one of the fanciest restaurants in Barcelona. Everyone was wearing a fancy dress—you were wearing one too, Alexia on the other hand was wearing a dapper three-piece suit.

You had a birthday hat in your clutch from Alba earlier and once you both had ordered, you took it out and gave it to your girlfriend. You jokingly asked her to wear it, not expecting her to do so.

But when she took it with a roll of her eyes, “anything to make you smile” falling off her lips and she ended up wearing the thing throughout your dinner, you had no more doubt that it was you Alexia wanted.

You didn't have any football silks, you weren’t a World Champion, you weren’t Jenni Hermoso.

But with every waking moment you spent with Alexia, you could feel how much she loved you despite it all.

Especially when Alexia got down on one knee and especially when you had a mini-you running around. You knew that there was nothing in this world that could change what you had with her.

(Not even Jenni Hermoso, who is now someone you call a best friend and the godmother to your daughter).

—

thanks for reading, let me know your thoughts!!🫶🏼

#woso x reader #woso #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas #woso fanfics #woso community #fcb femení

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streetlamp-amber · 5 months ago

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blanket fort for the soul

dick grayson x batmom!reader

word count: 2.2k | divider by @saradika | requests are open!

CW: mention of death, family fluff <3 NOTES: dick grayson my little baby i love you so so much you deserve endless happiness and to be protected from all evil

You were just coming back from your lunch break with two of your coworkers when you received a call from Gotham Academy asking you to come pick up Dick as soon as possible. It didn’t take more than a minute after the call ended for you to inform your boss you were cutting your day of work short today, to grab your black trench coat and bag and to sit behind the wheel of your car, on your way to the private school.

Dick Grayson had entered your lives a month and a half ago, after Bruce took you on a date to Haley’s Circus where the young boy’s parents died tragically in front of your eyes. When you were informed that their child didn't have any family to care for him and would end up in the foster system, you didn't even have to try to convince your husband to begin the process to become his foster parents. It had been two weeks since Dick started living with you in the manor and though he was slowly warming up to Bruce, Alfred and you, he was still plagued with nightmares and a deep sadness about the loss of his family.

“What happened?” You asked the receptionist in a hurry once you arrived at the school. You didn't need to introduce yourself or mention to the woman behind the desk that you were Dick’s ward, perks of being married to Bruce Wayne.

“Ah, Mrs. Wayne!” The headmaster, a bald fifty-something white man with round glasses that you should probably try to remember his name, exclaimed as he appeared in the doorway leading to his office. “Please, follow me.”

You walked around the receptionist’s desk and entered the headmaster’s office, where a small boy with dark hair hung his head low. You could sense the sadness emanating from him the second you stepped in the room. You ignored the principal’s invitation to take a seat in the chair in front of his desk to instead crouch down in front of Dick.

“Dick, sweetie, are you okay?” You asked him worriedly. You rested your hands on his knees and lowered your head to try to catch his eyes.

The young boy shook his head ‘no’ before lunging onto you, wrapping his thin arms around your neck as he wept on your shoulder. You were surprised at first, Dick wasn’t comfortable enough with you and Bruce to do more than holding your hands when outside of the house, but you recovered from the shock in less than a second.

“Oh, bubs,” you whispered in a sigh, hugging him close to you and rubbing your right hand up and down his back in a comforting way as sobs shook his small body.

“He’s been like this since the beginning of the students’ lunch break,” the headmaster sympathetically informed you. “The lunch supervisors tried to comfort him but it was to no avail, so we called you.”

You turned your head to face the older man, noticing at the same time the plaque on his desk that read ‘Principal Richardson’. “You did the right thing,” you told him.

“Given the circumstances, it is more than alright if Mr. Grayson wants to go home for the afternoon,” Mr. Richardson offered.

“Do you want to go back to the manor?” You whispered the question in Dick’s ear and he nodded his head ‘yes’.

You rose up from your crouching position, Dick still hanging onto you tight like you were his lifeboat. Thank God he was a little frail since his parents’ death or you wouldn’t be able to carry the eight year old in your arms right now.

“Thank you, Mr. Richardson,” you thanked the principal and he accompanied you out of the school where one of the lunch supervisors waited at the door with Dick’s school bag and lunchbox.

You sat Dick down in his booster car seat – he was still a little too small to sit without one – and put his bags in the seat next to him before closing the door behind you.

“Please send our salutations to Mr. Wayne,” the principal told you and you shyly smiled, nodding your head one time as you sat down in the driver’s seat.

The ride back to the manor was quiet except for Dick’s sniffles as he continued crying. It broke your heart that you couldn’t just take all of his pain away. Both you and Bruce had lost your parents when you were kids, you understood the grief Dick was in just like you knew that only time will heal him.

Once you arrived home, Alfred came down the stairs to grab your bags while you carried Dick, who was back to latching onto you like a koala, in the house. You kicked off your high heels after walking through the front door and went straight to Dick’s room on the second floor.

“Let’s get you out of that uniform, how’s that sound bubs?” You softly asked him once in his bedroom.

“Okay,” Dick murmured, letting go of your neck to rub the tears away from his eyes and his cheeks.

You sat him down on his bed and turned to his drawer to pull out a pair of pyjamas. You then helped him change his clothes and once he was ready, with Zitka his elephant plushie tucked under his arm, he grabbed your hand and pulled you out of his room.

“Can we make hot cocoa, please?” He looked up at you with his big blue eyes, the colour eerily the same as Bruce’s, and you simply couldn’t say no to them. Not before, not now and definitely not ever.

“Of course, bubs,” you said, squeezing his hand reassuringly.

You both made your way to the kitchen, where Alfred was doing an inventory of the dry food in the cupboards.

“Mrs. Y/N, Master Dick, can I help you with something?” He politely asked you.

“Pretend like we’re not here Alfred,” you told the butler as you helped Dick sit on the kitchen island. “We’re making hot cocoa. Do you want some?”

“You know I would never refuse a cup of your famous hot cocoa, Mrs. Y/N,” Alfred lightheartedly said and the two of you broke down in small chuckles.

“Should we also leave some for Bruce when he gets home?” You asked Dick who was now eye levelled with you from where he was perched on the kitchen island.

The little boy nodded his head ‘yes’ and you set up everything you needed to make the warm beverage, along with four coffee mugs. Dick helped you and in a matter of ten minutes, your drinks were ready.

“Come with me,” you whispered to Dick as you helped him get down from the kitchen island counter. “I have an idea of how to pass time while we wait for the hot cocoa to cool down a little.”

Dick held your hand as you made your way to the living room with the television and the comfy couches (because of course Wayne Manor had more than one living room, including ones that were more formal for the balls and galas you hosted).

“You wanna know what my brother and I used to do when one of us was feeling down?” You looked down at the small boy. He nodded his head for you to continue. “We built the biggest blanket forts that could ever be built. But I think with all the materials we have here, we can build an even bigger one. Are you in?”

You were slowly succeeding at making Dick feel better after the little episode at lunch. Grief comes and goes in waves, and his loss was still very recent. You just wanted to be there for him when the pain hits him.

Dick nodded his head, a little more excitedly this time, and the two of you set off to start building a giant blanket fort using the couch mattresses, throw pillows and blankets stored in the room. You were hanging a blanket that would be the roof while Dick held up the mattresses when Alfred brought your cups of hot cocoa to the living room, the drinks now topped with whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles. You thanked the butler and he smiled at you before he went back to the kitchen to complete his inventory, sipping his beverage along the way.

“Are you comfortable in there?” You asked Dick after a moment from the entrance of the blanket fort. He had been in charge of placing the pillows and blankets inside while you made sure the structure was stable.

“Mhm,” he positively hummed in response.

“Alright, I’m gonna give you our cups of hot cocoa then I’m gonna come in with the laptop and we can watch whatever you want,” you told him.

“Okay,” Dick said, his mood lighter.

Once the two of you were settled in the fort with your mugs, you opened the living room laptop (because of course you and Bruce had more than two laptops) and put it down between the two of you.

“So, what are we watching?” You looked at the dark haired boy to your right, waiting for his answer.

He shrugged his shoulders while drinking more of your hot cocoa. Yeah, he was gonna be a ball full of energy until way past his bedtime, but he deserved something fun and comforting. If anything, Bruce could train with him to tire him out once he was back home from work.

“Remember those songs we were listening to on the drive back from Bruce’s office last week?” You tried to jog his memory up to when you blasted Abba’s greatest hits after his first visit to Wayne Tower. You kept stealing glances in the rear view mirror the whole ride, smiling every time you saw Dick bopping his head along to the music.

The little boy nodded his head.

“Well, they made a movie where the characters are on a Greek island and sing the songs the whole time. Wanna watch that?”

Dick shrugged his shoulders. “Okay.”

You grabbed the laptop and put it in your lap as you went on Netflix and searched for Mamma Mia!. Dick took the opportunity to scoot closer to you, his small body curling around your torso, and you smiled at the fact that he was more trusting and comfortable with you.

When Bruce arrived back home, he came to a stop in front of the living room with the television in it that he was only planning on passing by while he made his way towards the staircase to get to your shared bedroom. The room was disordered and more loud than it usually was at this time of the day, which is what got his attention away from his cellphone. He loosened his tie, feeling more relaxed now that his day of work as ‘Bruce Wayne, CEO’ was over, and approached the blanket fort in the middle of the room.

“What is going on in here?” He crouched down and peaked his head inside the fort.

“So when you’re near me darling, can’t you hear me? S.O.S.,” you sang instead of answering him, index finger pointing in your husband’s direction.

Bruce sighed and rolled his eyes. “You roped him into watching Mamma Mia?” He asked with a hint of a smile.

“I didn’t rope him in,” you scoffed over Pierce Brosnan’s horrible singing. “I suggested it and Dick agreed to watch it,” you sweetly grinned at Bruce.

Dick, who was still curled against you, one arm looped with yours while the other held tight onto his elephant plushie, nodded his head to back up your claim.

Bruce then noticed the two now empty mugs, clear traces of hot cocoa on them. “Did you make hot cocoa?” He perked up, now fully smiling.

“You got this little man to thank,” you pointed to Dick. “We made a cup for you, just heat it in the microwave then you can join us.”

“I’ll be right back,” Bruce said and jogged to the kitchen where a cup of your famous hot cocoa was indeed waiting for him. He was back in the living room two minutes later, shoes and blazer off, top buttons of his shirt undone and sleeves rolled up to his elbows, ready to relax with his family.

He handed you his cup of hot cocoa for you to hold while he made his way in the blanket fort and settled on your left since the laptop was still in your lap, hence putting you in the middle. Once next to you, Bruce pecked your lips to greet you and when Dick glanced up at him, the look in his eyes wondering if he would also receive some kind of greeting, your husband affectionately ruffled his dark hair before leaning over you to plant a kiss of the top of the little boy’s head.

Bruce then made himself comfortable, also cuddling onto you, and put his head on your shoulder, a satisfied sigh escaping his lips as he did so. You handed him his mug back and the three of you continued watching Mamma Mia!, much to your happiness.

Enveloped in the warmth of your two boys squishing you from both sides, you couldn’t fight off the smile that pulled on your lips. Laying under your blanket fort with your little family, it was moments like this one that made everything else worth it.

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yanderenightmare · 1 year ago

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Nanami Kento

TW: yandere, NSFW, noncon/dubcon, size-difference, captive darling, subjugation, none of readers holes are safe

AN: kinda a sequel to this - sex therapist ! Nanami

fem reader

In the morning, before breakfast, he expects you to take care of his morning wood.

He says that’s what any proper young lady should do for a man. Petting your hair awfully leisurely while you clean up the sleepy mess – licking the half-wet half-dry glaze from his abs, sometimes needing to tongue it out of his belly button before moving down to his inner thighs and balls – lastly sucking him off for the rest of it.

You’ll lie on your stomach between his thighs under the covers while he’s still resting his eyes – groaning out groggy praise, sometimes with a heavy yawn. “Good girl~”

You don’t get breakfast until his balls are empty, is what you’ve learned.

One time – after he’d shot all his worth onto your tongue, stroking your cheek with a finger while telling you to be his good cum-doll and swallow – you’d retaliated by spitting his it out. And he’d punished you with an hour of being bent over his lap – spanking your poor butt raw – making it welt with popped veins until there wasn’t any space left to punish with a mark.

Then he’d put you down on your knees again and made you kiss his balls while apologizing to them – cuddling the heavy sack all teary-faced while begging for forgiveness.

Once satisfied, he’d encouraged you to suck a new nut from his tip – one which you swallowed in full and thanked him for afterward.

He’d also made you lick the first one up from the floor before cooing at you, wiping your tears with his roughened thumb with a slim smile – telling you that you were forgiven but that if you ever did such a horrible thing as wasting your food again, he’d have no choice but to starve you until you learned to appreciate all your meals properly.

After you’ve done your duty, swallowing his morning wood, you’re allowed downstairs for your second breakfast now that you’ve earned it.

But first, he’ll have you spread your legs so he can skewer one humming toy inside you. “It’s shameful for a lady to walk around with a dry pussy,” he says, and according to him, “you should always be dripping-ready with a twitchy coin-sized hole, happy to get pounded by a man’s fat cock, ever-grateful to receive his warm ball-juice in your womb.”

You iron his suit while he preps breakfast – rubbing your thighs together as they melt with trickles from your cunt – unable to keep yourself from cumming.

One time you were so distracted you’d made a triangle-shaped burn mark on his blue shirt because of it – and he’d punished you by stuffing the toy inside your tight ass instead.

He’d justified it by saying it was your pussy’s fault for being needy and selfish, and therefore it should be your pussy that’s punished.

The whole day, he’d ignored the pretty pink hole and slammed your poor butt instead. Cramming inside the tighty with the help of spit and rubbing oil until it gaped and accepted his pounding while you were bent and bowed in a well-deserved doggy position – rutting into your rear in quick robbing jams with both your hands pinned to your back and his foot placed on your cheek – stomping your pretty face while you sobbed for forgiveness, excusing your tardiness.

The next day, he’d mouthed something apologetic into your cunt. Licking and sucking your clit while saying he was sorry that he’d had to be so rough on you – that he hopes you learned your lesson so he’ll never have to ignore your perfect little pussy ever again. Telling you how he’d breed you twice as much that day to make up for what you’d missed the day before.

But anyway. During breakfast, he makes you cock-warm him on his lap while at the dinner table – telling you to say ah so he can spoon-feed you your share of the plate in front of you.

The toy within you is part of it. He tells you that keeping your toys clean is important and makes you lick your slick off until it’s all gone – praising you with a kiss to your cheek. He tilts his mug and takes the last drops of coffee, finishing it with a loud sigh.

“Is your belly full, baby?” He’ll mumble against your neck, scraping his chin-stubble along the soft skin to place a sloppy kiss there.

“Yes, Daddy, thank you.” You’ve been trained to say.

“Good~” He’ll purr - bouncing his leg, making you roost on his lap, feeling his meaty shaft sink just a bit deeper, curving out and making you bulge. “But this pussy is still starving, isn’t she?” He’ll keep a rough finger-pad on your swollen pearl while at it, rubbing tight circles into it, humming ruggedly from the squeeze it makes. “Want Daddy to fill her up, too?”

You’ll always shudder just a bit at the bite of his cock, bullying into your poor womb as you whimper out an ever so weak, “Yes, please, Daddy…”

He’ll prop you up on the table, making you just the perfect height. Sometimes on your knees – with one hand stationed at the small of your back while the other pulls your hair like a ponytail to keep you from crawling away while he pounds into you from the back.

Other times you’re seated on your ass with your back against the table – one of his strong arms wrapped around your thigh – keeping you steady as he juts into with his heavy ballsack clapping against your ass – his other fist riddled tight around your throat.

Either way, he expects you to beg for it. Cry for his cum, saying, “Thank you for giving me cock, Daddy- it feels so good- please fill me up with your seed!”

After he’s fed and bred you for breakfast, he’ll leave for work.

But before he goes, he’ll prop you with a chastity belt first.

The crotch is fixed with a dildo sculpted from his cock – keeping you company. After all, he doesn’t want you to miss him too much – and besides, he needs something to soothe his homesickness while on the job – and knowing you have his cum and cock stored within you while you do your chores, thinking of him as much as he thinks of you, is enough to put a small smile on his face.

He’ll play with what vibrations to give you through the app on his phone – customizing his own rhythm. He’s decided to teach you morse code with it – talking filthy things by tapping out dots and lines – telling you how much his cock aches to feel your tight pussy soak him, how much he can’t wait to come home and give you the real thing.

#yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #yandere nanami #yandere nanami kento #yandere nanami x reader #yandere kento nanami #yandere kento #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #nanami smut #kento smut #nanami kento smut #kento nanami smut #jjk nanami #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen #jjk kento #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu nanami

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ellieputellas · 19 days ago

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the bird | a.putellas (2)

tags: troublestudent!Alexia, modelstudent!reader, angst, fluff, religious guilt, forbidden love, friends-to-lovers, smut, cunnilingus r&alexia!receiving, fingering r!receiving, semi-public sex, all explicit scenes will have warning before it warnings / notes: will contain homophobic sentiments, religious themes, emotionally heavy angst and scenes, might come off sacrilegious at some times

‎ㅤㅤ⠀⠀ chapter index — chapter one 🕊 chapter two 🕊 epilogue

note: all explicit scenes will have the warning before it! you can use that as a guide for when you want to skip such parts or if you wanna skip everything else and read just smut lmfao anyway u can read this chapter alone if u just want the smut lol but i urge you to read chapter 1 to get the plot! with that said. minors please dni still!

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ACT IV. Damned to End from the Start (cont.)

When you finally pulled away from Alexia, you felt your chest rise and fall as you tried to catch your breath and gather your thoughts. Alexia looked into your eyes, flickering between them as if trying to read your expression.

“You…” Her voice trailed off as she kept her hands on you, resting on your waist.

You bit your lip. Your hands slipped down her arms, gripping on to them as if you’d melt on to the floor if you weren’t.

The silence filled the air as you stayed like that for a moment. Alexia gnawed on her own bottom lip, unsure of what to say. “So, what now?”

You exhaled deeply, locking eyes with her, searching for answers you didn’t have. “I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I was hoping you’d have it figured out first.”

A nervous chuckle bubbled up from inside you, shaking your head. Alexia blinked at you in surprise before a chuckle escaped her lips too. Once you two stopped with the giggles, Alexia reached for your hand again cautiously, holding on to the fingertips. “So… I assume you don't hate me.”

You shook your head, the words spilling easily. “I could never…”

She gave a small, thoughtful hum, her gaze dropping to where your hands intertwined. “That doesn’t necessarily mean you like me, though…”

You chuckled and moved closer, reaching out to take her face in your hands. “Was the kiss not enough of a clue?”

Her lips parted, her gaze flickering back to yours, then down to your lips. “Well… maybe another one would make me sure.”

You rolled your eyes, a playful smile tugging at your lips as you leaned in and captured her mouth in a tender kiss. When you pulled back, you grinned against her lips. “That good enough for you?”

Alexia’s quiet laugh sent shivers through you. “Maybe I need a few more.” She teased, causing you to give her a playful slap on the arm.

Another silence befell the two of you for a moment until you finally admitted, “That was my first kiss.”

“I know, angel.” She responded as she tucked a loose lock of hair behind your ear. “I hope it’s worth it.”

You nodded enthusiastically. “Of course, of course,” you said. “It felt… it felt like the best thing ever.”

Alexia smiled faintly but quickly glanced away, a nervous edge creeping into her demeanor. The weight of the day pressed on her — the endless lectures from the nuns, their harsh words ringing in her ears as they condemned homosexuality with fervor. Not to mention the heavy looks of judgement of the girls who probably found out about her situation, having witnessed her and Jenni being escorted to Sister Philomena’s office.

She didn’t buy into the whole “gay is evil” shit for a second, but the thought of dragging you into that kind of judgment made her chest tighten.

You, with your reputation as the model student, didn’t deserve to face the judgement she'd endured. Alexia knew she could take it, but she wasn’t sure she could bear seeing you hurt by it.

“Hey,” you said as you noticed her deep in thought, a facial expression that appeared more and more anxious.

Alexia looked up at you and your angelic face, your warm eyes. It would pain her to see you suffer the same judgement. “What now, monjita? What do we do now?” She said, repeating her question from earlier.

“I don’t know,” you responded in a low voice. “All I know is I like you and you make me happy and I love your presence.”

Alexia’s shoulders relaxed slightly as she nodded. Your words calmed her heart a bit but doubt still lingered. “Aren’t you scared?” she asked after a beat, her voice small. “Of god? Of what everyone will think?”

It struck her how quickly you’d shifted — from a tearful, conflicted mess minutes ago to the calm determination that now anchored you. But now, that same silence felt different... like quiet approval, like peace.

You shook your head slowly, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “No,” you said, your voice steady and confident. “Not anymore.”

After the rain had calmed down, you two made your way back to your dorm room, changed into your pajamas, and cuddled in Alexia’s bed. This time, you were seated up with your back against the wall as Alexia rested her head on your lap, allowing you the chance to brush her hair through your fingers.

“...And you were laughing so hard that your nose was all wrinkled up and you were practically snorting,” Alexia said, recalling one of your random nights out at the prayer garden. “That’s when I knew it wasn’t just a happy crush.”

“That was like months ago, Alexia…” You said, shocked by the confession.

She hummed as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Yeah, well… I mean, I’ve always thought you were pretty.” She paused, her tone turning smug. “And I knew you thought the same about me, even before you realized it yourself.”

You rolled your eyes, though your cheeks betrayed you with a faint blush. “No way.”

“Oh, please,” Alexia teased, chuckling. “I’d catch you staring at me, and your face would turn bright red. It was adorable.”

You chuckled nervously. “I was not that obvious.”

“Sure,” Alexia said, her voice dripping with mock disbelief. “Especially after football. You’d hang around, so quiet and fidgety, like you didn’t know where to look. I’d brush past you or touch you and you’d practically jump two feet in the air whenever our skin made contact.”

A laugh burst from your lips as you tapped two fingers lightly against her forehead, playfully reprimanding her for teasing you. “Oh, so you were doing that on purpose? The accidental touches? And don’t think I didn’t notice the way you’d always raise your arms or lift up your shirt during training, just to show off your abs.”

A mischievous grin spread across Alexia’s face. “What I’m hearing is… you like my abs.”

You playfully smacked your two fingers on her forehead again lightly. “Shut up!”

For a moment, the room was filled with laughter, but soon the energy settled into a quiet stillness. Your fingers continued their slow path through Alexia’s hair, and the weight of your thoughts pressed against your chest.

“Alexia…” You began softly. “Can I ask you something?”

She tilted her head to look up at you, her hazel eyes curious. “Of course.”

You hesitated, unsure if you should even bring it up, but curiosity and something heavier pushed you forward. “Jenni,” you said carefully, the name hanging in the air like a delicate thread. “The girl who snuck into the school earlier… what’s the story with her?”

Alexia took a deep breath. “Jenni and I…” she started, her voice soft but steady. “We were best friends. Ever since I moved in with my grandparents when I was young... after my father got sick and my parents couldn't take care of me anymore.”

You nodded, recalling that aspect of her story but you stayed silent, letting her continue her train of thought.

“She was always open about her sexuality, even when we were way younger,” Alexia said with a faint smile. “She was so brave about it, you know? Like, she didn’t care what anyone thought. I admired her for that.”

Her smile faded as she continued. “We were the only two queer girls in our school. At least, the only ones we knew about. So, I guess it was kind of inevitable that we ended up dating.” She said with an unreadable expression. “She was funny and we both loved to play football but… I don’t think we were ever compatible, as a couple.”

You nodded, sensing there was more to the story.

“It was… intense,” Alexia admitted, her voice faltering slightly. “Tumultuous, really. She’d get jealous easily, and I’d get frustrated about little things just as fast. We’d fight, makeup, and fight again. My grades slipped from all the stress, hers too. It was hard, but we were young and stupid, and I thought that was just how it was supposed to be.”

Her voice grew quieter. “It all came crashing down when my grandparents found out. I’m not even sure how they pieced it together. Maybe it was the way we looked at each other, or how much time we spent together. But they knew. And they… they weren’t happy.”

You could feel the weight of her words settling into the room. “What happened?” you asked gently.

“Well, you already know that they’re devout Catholics,” Alexia said with a bitter laugh. “So, they hated it. They gave me an ultimatum. Break up with Jenni or be shipped to boarding school.”

“Oh,” You said. “So, that’s why you’re here?”

Alexia hummed. “Kinda… but not really,” she paused. “Because I broke up with her.”

She breathed, inhaling until her lungs filled completely before exhaling shakily. “I hated how my grandparents were so against me being gay, but it also felt like a blessing in disguise.” She said as her eyebrows knit together. “I wasn’t happy with Jenni anymore; I just wanted to go back to being best friends. So, I wanted to use my grandparents’ disapproval as an excuse to split up with her.”

“Then… then how’d you end up here?” You asked.

Her jaw clenched. “After I broke up with her, she tried sneaking into my house to beg for a second chance and they caught her.” She paused. "My grandmother caught her climbing into my window and she was just…”

Alexia took a beat to breathe, the story obviously something heavy for her to recount. “It was bad. They acted like I was the devil incarnate even when I tried to obey them.” She stared blankly at the ceiling. “It wasn’t even my fault.”

Your heart ached for her as she let out a shaky breath.

“So, they sent me here,” Alexia continued, gesturing vaguely to the room. “Far away from everything I knew, far from home. They thought this place would fix me, cleanse me, or whatever. Stop making me gay,” She scoffed. “But it didn’t. Obviously.”

A chuckle bubbled up between the two of you. When the laughter dissipated, her eyes finally met yours, vulnerable and searching. “I don’t want you to go through that. I don’t want you to suffer because of me.”

You softly placed a hand against Alexia’s cheek, using your thumb to brush against her soft skin. “It won’t happen to us.” You reassured. “We’ll be careful. Don’t worry.”

For a while, Alexia and you were careful.

No one really blinked an eye when you two held hands considering that you’ve always done it before and it was common for friends to do so. Even the girls who had heard of Alexia’s stint at Sister Philomena’s office stopped judging her too harshly based on the sole fact that you were hanging out with her. If the ideal, angelic student was her friend, then that just probably meant Alexia wasn’t the evil homosexual they thought she was.

To take extra cautious measures, Alexia and you only ever kissed in the bedroom, which sometimes felt like it wasn’t enough for you. You’d think about her lips, her touch all the time. Instead of listening to Bible study, your brain had resorted to fantasizing about her kisses, especially those neck kisses you grew to love so much.

It mostly got unbearable during football practice or games. The sight of Alexia running around, muscles flexed and face serious, always got you squirming in the grass. She was so attractive and you were so smitten by everything she did on the pitch.

It was particularly worse whenever you had to join her at the showers. After confirming that you did love the sight of her abdomen, Alexia started taking her shirt off a lot in front of you especially after training when they were particularly prominent from all the physical activity.

This time, when Alexia took her shirt off, you felt your lips tuck between your teeth, inhaling as you saw the familiar sight of her shirtless torso. Alexia chuckled at your obvious reaction. “You’ve seen me shirtless countless times and you’re still this flustered.”

You rolled your eyes before quickly looking around to check the vicinity. The shower room was empty since the other football girls had already taken a bath while Alexia was still on the pitch, cooling down with a jog and some stretches. Once you’ve confirmed that no one was around, you practically jumped at Alexia, taking her lips with yours.

Alexia chuckled at the sudden affection but welcomed it, resting her hands on your waist as she kissed you. She hummed out loud when she felt you bite her lower lip, shocked that you were being the bolder, more forward one this time.

You licked Alexia’s lower lip, just like she had with yours, as if to ask permission. Once Alexia parted her lips, you let your tongue slide between them, deepening the kiss.

Alexia felt proud, feeling just how quickly you’ve improved at kissing when just a week ago, you jumped at the feeling of her tongue inside your mouth. Now, it was you who was leading the French kiss.

It didn't take long until you were breathless. You pulled away, looking into Alexia’s eyes, seeing her pupils blown out. “Ale, do you wanna skip the shower and go back to our room?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

As soon as you and Alexia entered your room, you took her shirt off again and pulled her towards your bed, stumbling back to lie down as Alexia propped herself on top of you.

Alexia was quite shocked that you were making out on your bed, instead of hers. She was quite accustomed to it but she didn’t complain or question anything, too fixated on pressing her lips against yours.

Aside from kissing your lips, Alexia’s favorite part to kiss was your collarbones. She loved how you’d whimper and moan whenever she’d kiss them, gently to not leave a mark. She moved her lips slowly from your mouth to your collarbones, planting a kiss on your cheek and neck on her way down.

You moaned out as soon as you felt the Catalan’s teeth graze against your collarbone, kissing and sucking harder than she had before. “Alexia…” Her name felt so natural in your mouth. It felt so good moaning it out.

Alexia continued to kiss your collarbone as you felt her hand slip under your school shirt, touching the skin of your waist. While you’ve seen Alexia topless several times, you haven’t really revealed that much to the girl. You have changed in the same room a lot of times but never in this context.

Alexia was always respectful of your boundaries, often waiting for you to make the move first. But this time, that slipped out of her mind as her hand moved up and down your waist, feeling your skin. She couldn't hold back when you were being so cute with your moans.

“Alexia, take it off.” You whimpered out. She looked up at you, hazel eyes warm and excited. You smiled. “Please, help me take off my shirt.”

You sat up and let Alexia lift your shirt up as you raised both hands to make it easier for her to do so. She bit her lips as she saw the sight of you in just a white, balconette bra with lace details. She exhaled, eyes flickering between your chest and your face.

The warmth spread from your chest to your face as you grew flustered. “Ale…” Your voice trailed off, timidly. You placed both hands on her shoulders, holding onto her as you batted your eyes at her.

“You’re so beautiful.” She looked into your eyes with her pupils blown out. “Can I…?”

You nodded. “Yes. I give you my permission.”

Her lips curled into a smile before she leaned forward to kiss your lips, putting one hand on the small of your back and the other one cupping your breasts over your lace bra. You wrapped your arms around Alexia, trying to keep yourself up as you moaned into her mouth at the feeling of her touch.

Alexia kneaded your chest gently as she kissed you passionately, hungrily. Soon, her hands were pushing their way under the white fabric and pulling your breast out to spill out of your bra. You gasped, breaking the kiss.

She took this opportunity to lay you down on the bed as she crawled back on top of you. She cautiously took the other breast out so that they would both be spilling out of your bra. Her eyes gazed back at your face as she lowered her face down to your chest.

“Let me try something,” she said in a hushed voice. “I’m sure you’d like it.”

You trusted Alexia. When it came to intimacy, you had no knowledge. All prurient media and literature were banished from the school, making it impossible for you to know anything about sex. The only encounter you had to learn about it was through a Jude Deveraux erotic book that slipped through the nun’s scrutiny. You were so shocked by the contents that you barely got through it before quickly turning it over to Sister Catherine for her to dispose of. (Though, it seemed more like the nun kept the book instead of throwing it away.)

At this moment, you grew regretful at never reading through it. Maybe it would have prepared you better for what was about to happen.

You immediately moaned loudly as soon as Alexia’s mouth wrapped around your nipple. She gave it a cautionary lick with her tongue before she continued to suck it. Her other hand proceeded to play with the other chest, using her fingers to roll your nipples between them.

You whimpered, trying to choke down your moans as you felt the pleasure intensify. Alexia was incredibly skilled with her tongue, seemingly knowing exactly how to make you feel good. You tried pressing your legs together, to ease the sudden ache and discomfort you were feeling in your nether regions but you couldn't as Alexia was still in between them.

It was taking everything in Alexia not to suck too hard and to leave hickeys to mark you; she would stop herself every time, giving a precautionary look at your skin just to be safe. She was a contradiction – wanting both to be careful and gentle but also wanting to consume you whole.

But she knew even the act of planting gentle kisses all over you was already overwhelming for a good, Catholic girl like you. You were already practically going crazy under her. She feared for how loud you’d be once she actually got to properly touch you.

She lifted her head up. “Monjita,” she whispered out. “Can I touch you?”

You blinked, looking down at Alexia. “Touch me?”

She nodded before letting her hand go from your breast to in between your legs. Alexia pressed her palm flatly on your core. “Here.”

You bit your lip, unsure of what to feel. Though you didn’t know of the details, you already knew the concept of sexual intimacy. Of course, what you knew was that it was dirty, impure, and sinful. But with Alexia, you just couldn't fathom how it could possibly be a bad thing. How could something so tender, born out of love and passion, ever be wrong? It felt as though the very idea defied everything you had been taught.

“We don’t have to…” Alexia said as she saw the hesitation in your face.

You quickly shook your head and cupped her face with your hands. “No,” you said as you looked deep into her eyes. “I think I’m ready.”

Alexia smiled warmly, her eyes sparkling as she did, sending butterflies to your stomach. You smiled back. “If I were to do it,” you said softly. “I’d want it to be with you.”

Those words warmed Alexia from the inside. She moved back up to capture your lips in a tender kiss before sitting up. She cautiously held your waistband, pulling off your skirt as you lifted your hips to make it easier for her to remove them. Alexia nearly moaned at the sight of your pure, white underwear absolutely drenched at the crotch with your own nectar. She felt a chuckle bubble up.

You grew shy. “W-what?”

Alexia shook her head. “You’re so beautiful, my angel.” Alexia said in a low voice, admiring your body. “How did I get so lucky to have an angel laid bare before me?"

Your cheeks grew crimson with Alexia’s words and with the way she stared at you, taking in your entirety. She ran a hand through the smooth of your hips and up to the curve of your waist before leaning in again to capture your lips. As she pulled away, she locked eyes with you. “Monjita, you can tell me to stop any time, okay?”

You nodded, feeling incredibly full of trust for Alexia. There was not a single doubt or hesitation in your mind at that moment.

Alexia sat back up before placing both thumbs underneath the side of your underwear, slowly pulling the fabric off of you.

“God,” Alexia whispered under her breath as she saw your slick stick to the fabric, forming a stretched line before breaking. You were utterly soaked, and it was all for her. Pride surged through her veins, mixing with a deep, insatiable hunger.

Growing shy, you pressed your legs together, feeling vulnerable under the intensity of her stare. Alexia let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head as her warm hands gently coaxed your legs apart again. “No hiding, angel,” she murmured, her tone coaxing yet commanding. “Let me see all of you.”

Alexia was so gentle with you. Her touch was tender, almost reverent. She kissed her way across your skin, her lips a soft prayer as they met every curve and hollow, easing you into the rhythm of her care. Her mouth lingered on yours in a final, lingering kiss before she began her descent, leaving a trail of warmth as she made her way down to your core.

When her head settled between your thighs, your heart hammered against your ribs. The sensation of her warm breath against your bare skin sent a shiver up your spine.

Slowly, the Catalan spread you with her hands and parted her mouth before capturing your clit with her mouth. You gasped, putting a hand on her head. “Alexia! That’s dirty!”

She paused only for a moment, lifting her gaze to meet yours with a soft smile. “No part of an angel could ever be dirty,” she murmured, her voice a soothing promise, before dipping back down to continue her devotion.

Your hands tangled in Alexia's hair, gripping gently as her tongue lapped up your core, savoring every drop of your wetness. Her movements were unhurried, deliberate as if committing the taste of you to memory.

Alexia nearly chuckled at the memory of the nuns telling all of you about how to never waste food — not a single grain of rice, not a single drop of honey. Alexia smirked at the thought. She’d taken that lesson to heart, but now, she applied it differently—making sure not a single bit of your sweetness went untasted. Not a single drop of it was wasted.

The sensation of Alexia eating you out was something you’d never felt before. It was exciting and intense. With every flick of Alexia’s tongue, you could feel yourself unravel more and more.

Her tongue would move up and down your entire length before flicking against your clit quickly, causing you to grip the sheets as you clenched your body to the sensation. You loved it when Alexia wrapped her mouth against you, sucking you in a consistent and steady pattern. It sent a shudder of pleasure through your body as your lower stomach warmed.

“Oh God!” You cried out loud, making Alexia chuckle against your core at the irony. “Oh my god! Alexia, don’t stop.”

Alexia paused to shush you. She loved hearing you get so riled up by her but the last thing she needed was for people outside to hear you. After all, it was only afternoon.

Alexia couldn’t resist you, wanting to press her fingers inside you and feel your tightness around her but she knew she had to warm you up, which she didn’t mind. She loved your taste, loved the way your hips pressed up against the warmth of her mouth.

Slowly, she moved her mouth to your opening before slowly sticking her tongue inside you. The warm sensation of her tongue sent an electrifying jolt through your body as it pushed inside of you. You nearly shouted at the overwhelming feeling but your hand went to your mouth, muffling your own moans.

Pleased by your reaction, Alexia bobbed her head to thrust her pointed tongue inside you. Each deliberate motion was paired with the subtle brush of her nose against your clit, an added spark that made your head spin. The dual sensation was intoxicating, a feeling you didn't even know could be possible.

Alexia’s devotion was evident in every motion, her focus unwavering as though she were worshiping you with her tongue. To falter, even for a moment, felt unthinkable to her —not when she was blessed to have you, her angel, unraveling beneath her.

Alexia lifted her head up to look at you from below. “Angel, I’m going to put a finger inside of you.” She said with a low and reverent voice. “If it hurts, let me know, okay?”

All hesitation and apprehension was gone at this point as you eagerly nodded. “Yes, please, yes.”

A soft chuckle escaped her lips, laced with affection. She found your eagerness both cute and sexy. Returning her attention back to your clip, she enveloped her mouth around your clit again to form a steady suction, just to make sure you were sufficiently wet and prepared.

Soon, she carefully took her finger and teased your opening with it, taking her time to soak the finger with your juices. Once she was covered with your slick, she cautiously pressed it against your opening.

Your back arched at the slow intrusion; it felt new and overwhelming. A soft wince escaped your mouth. Alexia paused and lifted her head. “Breathe, angel," she soothed. "Relax, baby. It's just me."

With a deep exhale, you felt your muscles loosen, allowing her to press further inside. The stretch was unfamiliar but not unpleasant, and when her finger was finally fully inside of you, a soft moan escaped your lips. Alexia smiled. “Good girl.”

You hummed as you felt your eyes shut close, savoring the pleasure. Alexia took this as a sign to start thrusting. She put her mouth back on your clit as she slowly pumped her finger in and out of you, feeling you tight around her.

For Alexia, this moment was more than just sexual passion; it was communion.

Being your first filled her with a profound sense of warmth and connection. With each gasp and shiver that escaped you, she felt her heart flutter. You had her entirely, completely, and Alexia wouldn't have it any other way. She didn't mind that you had her wrapped around your finger.

She wanted to be yours anyway.

Alexia increased the speed, carefully pressing against your sensitive spot with every thrust inwards. The combination of her mouth and fingers was driving you insane, struggling to keep your moans from slipping out of the hand you pressed against your mouth.

As the pleasure intensified, you cried out, removing a hand from your mouth. “Alexia, you have to move away.” The words escaped your mouth in a rush. “I think I’m gonna pee.”

Alexia chuckled, fully knowing what you meant. She took it as a sign to move faster and harder against you, pressing a tongue against your throbbing clit. “A-Alexia, I’m serious, uh.”

Your concern soon dissipated as you felt yourself clench around her fingers. Your knuckles grew white as you gripped the sheet with your hands, feeling the intensity build up.

And with a loud cry of Alexia’s name, you came undone, breathing heavily as you felt the pleasure make waves through your entire body. Alexia helped you ride out your orgasm before pulling away, wiping her soaked hand on her shorts before moving to your side to cuddle up to you, spooning you.

You smiled and let a chuckle out as you tried to catch your breath, absolutely consumed by the feeling. You turned around so that you’d be facing Alexia, looking into her eyes.

“That was…” You smiled breathlessly. “Alexia, I think I…”

She smiled as you paused. She knew what you wanted to say but she understood your hesitation, knowing you might not have wanted to say it after the heat of it all. She reached out to you, tucking a hair behind your ear before pressing her lips on your forehead. “I know, monjita.” She whispered.

You moved closer to her, resting a head on her shoulders as you wrapped a hand around her side. She felt extremely warm against you.

“Hmm…” Alexia hummed thoughtfully.

“What?” You asked.

“Nothing,” She said before teasing you. “I just found it funny how you thought you had to pee.”

You playfully smacked her arm. “Don’t tease me! I’m a virgin, okay?”

Alexia laughed as she shook her head. “Not anymore, angel.” She beamed with pride as she snuggled you closer to her. You rolled your eyes and chuckled before nuzzling your face in her chest.

You wanted to stay like that forever, wrapped around each other, feeling each other’s warmth, laughing at each other’s jokes. It felt so addicting just being this close to each other.

You knew you had to get up soon, actually have a shower and get dressed to go for dinner. But for now, you just wanted to fantasize about being completely alone with Alexia, with no worries or fear. Just the two of you, free to love and make love and kiss and be yourselves.

We have to get out of this school.

It was as if the heavens heard your prayers because you were getting a chance to leave the school.

Well, at least for the weekend.

Alexia and the rest of the football team were gearing up to have their first away game against a nearby girl’s school. All the girls from the football team were beyond excited to spend the weekend outside the confines of the boarding school.

While the trip was solely for the football team, Sister Catherine requested that you accompany the team. She said it was just because she wanted to show you appreciation for all that you did for the dorm but they weren’t so subtle about making sure you would keep an eye on Alexia, as if she was some problematic student.

You didn’t mind though, because it just felt like a free trip with the girl you liked.

So, after you and Ingrid gave your respective interim replacements as Dorm Heads a short orientation on things to do and expect, you were both gushing to each other about the trip, excited to see what the outside world has to offer.

“I feel more excited about this than when we took that long trip to see the cloistered nuns,” Ingrid recalled. “All we did then was take a useless three-hour bus ride to pray and eat stale cookies. Now, we get to actually go outside and enjoy the outside world.”

You chirped. “I know! Sister Catherine said we’ll all get a budget for when we have a free day out in the nearby town.” You sighed at the thought. “Can you believe that? We get to taste outside food and buy stuff for ourselves.”

Ingrid smiled widely, feeling warm at the sight of your face glowing with happiness. You two were quite close before but you never bothered to show this much emotion to her before; you were far more reserved and guarded. Now, you seemed carefree, younger too.

“You seem really happy lately,” The Norwegian said as she nodded approvingly. “I’m so glad to see more of this side of you.”

You blushed, feeling vulnerable at the comment. “Thanks. You seem happy too, Ingrid.”

She nodded and you locked eyes in quiet contentment before you two started joyfully chatting again, beyond excited to get out of this place even for just a few days.

You were beyond annoyed when you found out that you would be sharing a room with Sister Catherine instead of Alexia for your trip.

The nuns explained that all the athletes would be staying together in bigger rooms of five while the nuns get bigger rooms meant for faculty. (Apparently, the sisters thought it would be a good idea to have them bond with each other the night before the match.)

That meant you had to either dorm with the moody Sister Jude or the more relaxed Sister Catherine. You opted for the latter.

So much for looking forward to doing it on a new bed, you thought.

Alexia laughed when you told her the news which made you frown. She cooed as she summoned you over to her bed where she was sitting. “C’mon, don’t give me the sour face. It’s just kinda funny…”

You pouted feigning annoyance as you stood in front of her. “So, you’d rather stay with four of your teammates instead of with me?”

She put her hands around your waist, before lowering you down to straddle her on the lap. “Monjita, of course, I wanted to be rooming with you but I kinda expected this to happen.”

She planted a soft kiss on your chin. “At least we’d have a whole day to ourselves.” She said before planting another kiss on your neck and then your collarbones. “We can pretend to be a normal couple for a day — go to a farmer's market, hold hands, kiss in public.”

You hummed. “You do know we still have to wear our school shirts and the school sweatpants," you reminded. "Nothing a normal couple would wear."

Her chuckle vibrated against your skin as she kissed along your neck. “We can just wear a huge jacket over it,” she suggested. “Pretend we’re girlfriends who like to match clothes.”

“Hmm… girlfriends…” You whispered, letting the word hand in the air.

Neither of you had explicitly labeled what you had, and it had never seemed to matter. You thought Alexia wasn’t the type to care about having a label either, well, until now.

Alexia hummed back and pressed a kiss on your jawline. “Yes, does that sound great?”

You smiled before lifting her head up with your hands. “Sounds good to me,” you responded before pressing your lips against hers.

After a long bus ride, where you were forced to be beside Sister Catherine, you begrudgingly took your stuff to your shared room, hating having to stay in a totally separate building from your girlfriend.

Sister Catherine gushed about how lucky you were to be in a room with just her, a luxury not afforded to the athletes who had to be bunked together in groups. But really, you would have preferred to be with them instead of with the junior nun.

You liked Sister Catherine; she was nice and clean. She certainly was one of the more chill and laid-back nuns. Sometimes, she made you laugh with her corny jokes. She was certainly your favorite among the sisters.

But she was no Alexia Putellas.

Alexia could instantly see the sour expression on your face when she met you for dinner out with the others. She swiftly ran up to you. “Angel, why the long face?”

She linked her arm with yours as you two walked side-by-side. The entire team was heading to a nearby fast food joint, buzzing with excitement. It had been ages since any of you had indulged in greasy, guilt-laden junk food.

You leaned your head against Alexia’s shoulders as you walked. Alexia stiffened up with the sudden public display of affection but remembered that you were with the more junior nuns who were incredibly way more chill and also, trusted you with their lives.

“I missed you,” you murmured softly. “It’s the first time since you came to Santa Eulalia that we won’t be spending the night together.”

Alexia let out a quiet sigh. “I know,” she said, her tone gentle. “But hey, at least on Sunday, we can do whatever we want after mass.” She nudged you slightly. “Do you have anything in mind?”

You shook your head, a wistful smile tugging at your lips. “No plans. I just want to wander aimlessly with you… pretend we’re an ordinary couple in the city.”

Alexia chuckled. “I’d really love that, monjita.”

You sighed again, your voice dropping to a near-whisper. “Don’t know how I’ll sleep without my goodnight kiss.”

She laughed softly. “You seemed to manage just fine before we started dating,” she teased, giving you a knowing look. “You’ll survive.”

You pouted. “I doubt that.”

Alexia tilted her head, pretending to ponder. Then she leaned closer and dropped her voice so only you could hear. “How about this? Meet me outside your dorm around 11 pm, when everyone’s asleep. I’ll sneak over and give you that kiss.”

You hesitated, your brows knitting together. “Don’t you need a good night’s rest to play well tomorrow?”

She smirked, her trademark confidence shining through. “We’re playing against another boarding school, not an actual football club. I could run circles around those girls in my sleep.”

You rolled your eyes at her cockiness, though you couldn’t deny how much you adored it. Alexia’s self-assurance was always backed by her skill. She had every right to be with the way she played. “Okay, how else can I say no to a good night kiss?”

When you finally reached the fast food restaurant, the team erupted with excitement, clamoring over the menu and debating what to order.

The greasy, salty aroma filled the air, a nostalgic comfort after years of the same slop the kitchen always prepared. You joined in, laughing and indulging along with everyone else, savoring every bite.

But at the back of your mind, all you could think about was kissing Alexia later. No french fries or ice cream sundae tasted better than your girlfriend’s lips

Your heart was practically beating out of your chest once the clock struck 10. For the next hour, you spent your time silently brushing your hair and spritzing on a bit of perfume, moving quietly as the nun was fast asleep.

Thank god for food coma, you thought as you remembered Sister Catherine and Sister Jude indulging in a huge serving of fries and burgers. For a moment, everyone had forgotten that gluttony was a sin.

By 10:55 pm, you were already tiptoeing out of your shared room, slipping silently into the hallway. The faculty dormitory where you stayed was on the far side of the building, separate from the student athletes’ quarters. You couldn’t help but wonder how Alexia planned to sneak all the way here without getting caught.

Soon, you could see the familiar shadow of your girlfriend climbing up the stairs adjacent to your room. You beamed as soon as you saw her. She pressed a finger against her mouth, telling you to remain quiet before gesturing for you to follow.

Biting your lip, you glanced back at your dorm door one last time before slipping away with her. Alexia took your hand, her grip warm and steady, as the two of you moved through the dimly lit building. She led the way with quiet confidence, navigating the halls as if she were a seasoned spy.

You let her lead the way and ultimately, you both ended up in the basement which had a huge room converted into a chapel.

“You could have just given me a kiss right outside my door,” You teased as you turned toward the Catalan who was boarding the wooden door of the room behind her.

Without hesitation, Alexia grabbed your waist and pinned you against the door, capturing your lips with hers. She pulled away after a minute of liplocking. “Wanted to do more than just a good night kiss.”

Her lips quickly met your again in a passionate kiss. You wrapped your arms around her as you felt yourself melt in her kiss, ready to come undone once again under your girlfriend’s touch.

It felt vaguely nostalgic to be kissing in a chapel again but this time, her kisses were more intense and passionate than the first kiss you had shared.

Alexia didn’t take long to slip the straps of your nightgown off of your shoulders, letting the soft fabric slip off your skin and fall to the floor. Your small yelp was muffled by Alexia’s lips as you felt yourself suddenly get exposed.

You felt so vulnerable and naked being pressed between the wooden door and your girlfriend, clad in just your white undies. Alexia’s hands were suddenly gripping your waist as she deepened the kiss.

The opportunity to catch your breath came when your girlfriend eagerly moved her mouth to your neck and down to your collarbones. You held on tightly to her as continued to hungrily nibble at your skin.

Alexia was more eager than she ever was. It felt exciting to her, being this intimate outside the confines of your tiny dorm room. She knew you two weren’t getting caught but the possibility of it made her heart beat faster against her chest as she felt her growing arousal.

“A-Alexia, are you sure we won’t be caught?” You said with some hesitation. Once your girlfriend had moved her mouth to your neck, her head no longer obstructed the sight of the altar staring right at you. “We’d be in big trouble if we get caught.”

Alexia pulled away for a second before looking around. “Monjita, no one’s gonna catch us.” She responded. “Why don’t I make you feel better so I can distract you from your worries, hmm?”

It didn’t take long to convince you and before you knew it, Alexia had slipped off your underwear and carried you over to the pews.

Alexia had you sitting on the edge of the seat with one foot perched on the seat beside your body and the other flat on the floor, feeling the cold wood on your bare butt as she kneeled in front of you, eating you out.

You moaned out loud as you felt your girlfriend’s skilled tongue draw circles around your clit, causing your legs to shake. “Oh my god, that feels so good.”

Alexia continued to eat you out, hungry for the taste of your juices. She loved hearing moans and whimpers exit your mouth as she continuously traced shapes with her tongue on to your core.

Your hips bucked as you felt her tongue graze against the small part of your clit, feeling extremely sensitive against the warm sensation of her mouth.

Your arms held on to the back support of the wooden pew as you arched your body against Alexia’s mouth. “Alexia, I’m cumming.” You moaned out.

Alexia smiled before slowly lifting her head up from your core. Before protests could even escape your mouth, Alexia had moved up to capture your lips again, tasting yourself on her mouth.

She pulled away, hazel eyes scanning your face. “I wanna touch you from behind. Is that good, angel?”

You blinked, clueless as to what Alexia meant by that. Being a virgin from a Catholic boarding school meant Alexia always had to introduce you to new things, new positions — stuff you had never even imagined. But, you just trusted Alexia to know what’s best and how to make you feel good.

You bit your lip and nodded, causing your girlfriend to smile widely before helping you up from your position.

Alexia delicately guided you, slowly instructing you to lean over the back support of the pew in front of you. You felt slightly awkward bent over like that, breasts hanging as you held onto the seat in front you. Alexia kept your butt lifted high, rubbing it slightly.

She cursed under her breath, incredibly aroused at the sight of you bent over like that for her, so submissive and vulnerable under her touch. She felt like she was corrupting you but this time, she didn’t feel so guilty. How could she when you were bent over so obediently, so willingly in front of her?

“Tell me if you feel uncomfortable and we can stop,” she ordered. “Okay, angel?”

You nodded but felt a sudden slap against your butt, not too hard to give you pain but hard enough to surprise you.

Alexia tutted her tongue. “Use your words, angel.” She ordered. “I need you to be more vocal when I can’t see your face, okay?”

“Y-yes, Alexia.” You responded as you felt your own slick trickle down your leg. Something about Alexia being dominant and strict turned you on even more.

Your eyes fluttered shut and a gasp escaped your lips as you felt two fingers enter you. It was a completely different sensation from being on your back; it felt tighter.

“God, angel, you’re so tight.” Alexia uttered between grit teeth. “You’re taking me in so well.”

She held onto your hips to steady you before she began pushing in and out of you at a steady pace. You moaned every time you felt your girlfriend’s fingers enter you since your position made it easier for her to reach your g-spot with every single thrust.

Alexia was growing more and more turned on as she fucked you from behind, turned on not only by the feeling of you tight around her fingers but also the environment. It felt forbidden, it felt wrong, which made it all the more better.

Alexia leaned over, keeping one hand inside you and the other snaking its way to your chest. Her strong hands held you up, which gave you a better angle to see the sacred imagery in front of you. You felt guilty doing what you were doing in the position you were in but the guilt didn’t linger long as the sensation of your girlfriend pounding behind you had dissipated whatever thought remained in your brain. All you could focus on was the sweet sensation of her fingers.

You cried out loud as you felt Alexia push more into you, fingers curling inwards with every thrust. Alexia smirked at the sound of your moans — a series of raggedy sounds and animalistic grunts. You could no longer control your voice but Alexia didn’t seem to mind.

“You’re all mine, angel.” Alexia grunted as she continued to thrust into you. “Say you’re mine.”

You moaned, finding it too difficult to get her name out as you were over the edge. “A…ale—”

SLAP.

You grunted at the sting of your girlfriend’s hands against your butt. It definitely hurt but something about it felt so satisfying. “Try again, angel.”

You took a deep inhale, trying not to get too distracted by Alexia’s consistent fingering. “I’m yours, Alexia,” you grunted out. “I’m all yours.”

Alexia felt the pride and warmth spread through her body and fuel her up to keep fucking you until you were a disheveled mess.

It didn’t take long until you were slowly feeling that familiar build up again, feeling yourself clench and tighten as your girlfriend continued to thrust into you. You moaned out loudly, causing Alexia to hush you.

“Oh my,” you blubbered out as you felt the pleasure reach its peak. “Oh my god!”

With that, you came undone, feeling yourself clench around your girlfriend a couple times as the pleasure rippled across your body. You would have fallen limp, draped on the church pew, if Alexia hadn’t lifted you back up to prop you on her lap as she sat down.

You wrapped your arms around Alexia and kissed her lips, softly as you were still breathless. “Alexia, you were way too naughty this time. I swear.”

Alexia teasingly tutted her tongue. “It’s not good to swear inside a chapel.”

You playfully smacked her on her forearm, earning a chuckle from her. “Great, now, I’d have to go back to my room all hot and bothered.” You complained.

Alexia raised an eyebrow at you. “Who said we were going back already?” She smirked as her hand found its way back in between your legs again.

You pouted and closed your legs tightly. “No more, Ale, I’m tired out.” You complained. “Plus, you have a game tomorrow. You need to get some rest.”

She frowned. “Don’t you think I need motivation for it?”

You rolled your eyes, feeling the soreness in between your legs already, and as you were about to reprimand your girlfriend for being too horny and greedy, you got an idea.

“Okay, we can have more fun,” you said but quickly pushed your girlfriend away as she was about to lean in. “But, I want to be the one to pleasure you this time.”

Alexia’s lips curled into a smile. “Angel, pleasuring you pleasures me, come on —” You stopped her again from leaning in.

“It’s either you let me or we go back up.” You said. “Come on, Ale. I wanna know what it feels like too… I wanna taste you.”

Alexia bit her lips as she scanned your eyes, seeing nothing but genuine curiosity and eagerness.

She sighed. “Okay fine, but don’t be disappointed if you don’t make me cum,” she warned. “It’s your first time and… it can be a lot to handle.”

The nerves kicked in as Alexia said it but you figured you might as well try now. You carefully got on your knees, feeling the coolness of the tiles against your legs.

You bit your lip as you slowly untied Alexia’s pajama pant strings before removing it from her body, together with her underwear. It wasn’t the first time that you’ve seen Alexia’s bottom half naked but it certainly felt different being within such close proximity to it. It felt so hot being on your knees in front of her nakedness. Alexia decided to add fuel to fire, lifting her top up to bite onto the hem to expose her defined stomach.

Eagerly, your hands made their way to her legs, separating them so that Alexia would be completely exposed to you. Her folds glistened under the dim lights, practically shining in its wetness. You nervously looked at Alexia’s core, running a steady finger through it just to get familiar to the touch.

Alexia inhaled sharply as your fingers stopped just against her clip, tentatively rubbing up and down then in circles. She watched you look at her pussy, almost calculating, as you moved your fingers through it.

After a few minutes of trying to rub against Alexia’s core, you decided to use your fingers to further spread her apart, nervously gulping before you leaned forward and captured her clit with your mouth. You mimicked Alexia’s movements whenever it was her who was eating you out, trying out a suction around her clit before ultimately licking it in various strokes.

Alexia bit more into the fabric of her shirt as she felt you graze against her swollen clit, seemingly knowing exactly what to do with it.

You looked up at her, lifting your head up to pause. “Alexia,” you started as you locked eyes with her. “Let me hear you, please.”

How could she resist you with your wide-eyed gaze, naked and vulnerable on your knees as you desperately tried to pleasure her?

Alexia nodded, letting the fabric of her shirt free from her mouth.

You eagerly put your mouth back on her, trying to recreate all the things she did with you. Soon enough, a series of moans left your girlfriend's lips. First, tentative and hesitant, low and quiet. But as you grew more and more accustomed to eating her out, Alexia’s moans grew louder and more delicate.

It was the first time you were hearing Alexia moan like that; you were accustomed to her occasional moans and grunts whenever she topped you but this was something new and something you definitely could get used to.

You felt Alexia’s hands find their way to the side of your head as she moved her hips up to grind against your mouth. Taking it as a good sign that she was close to an orgasm, you continued to suck at her clit with a faster yet steady pace.

How is she doing this on her first try, Alexia thought. She’s insane.

Aleia started to feel her climax approaching, shutting her eyes and throwing her head back. You continued fucking Alexia with your mouth and soon enough, she was twitching underneath you, mouth opened with no words or sounds escaping them. Pleasure had fully consumed her body.

You slowly looked up, watching your girlfriend’s chest rise and fall as she tried to catch her breath. After a few breaths, she looked down on you. “Where’d you learn that?”

You chuckled at her reaction. “Learned from the best.”

Alexia laughed, shaking her head before guiding you back up and propping you back on your lap. She gave you another soft kiss on the lips as she held you close.

“Thanks for that angel,” she smiled as her hazel eyes gazed into yours. “I felt like I was in heaven.”

Your cheeks grew red from the compliment, too flustered to say that that’s what she made you feel every single time you’ve been intimate before.

Alexia sighed, contentedly. “I’m so ready to win tomorrow.” She smiled at you. “Might be greedy of me considering I already won tonight.”

You shook your head and rolled your eyes at your girlfriend’s teasing. Though, you were sure she wasn’t completely joking then. Her eyes were filled with passion and energy; you were certain she’d channel all of that on the pitch.

You felt like you were floating after that night with Alexia at the basement chapel. It must have done the same to Alexia because she played on that field so effortlessly, moving through the opponents flawlessly.

You cheered from the stands, the only one from your school aside from the benched players cheering for your school.

Alexia scored a beautiful goal. Then, did a couple wonderful assists. Before you knew it, the team had won 5-0.

You screamed with joy, running onto the pitch as soon as the team huddle broke apart. Your heart soared as you wrapped your arms around Alexia, pulling her into a tight hug. Every fiber of your being wanted to kiss her, to celebrate this moment with her in the most intimate way, but you knew better. A kiss would send you straight back to the institute and to Sister Philomena’s office.

To not seem suspicious, you also ran to Ingrid to give her a congratulatory hug, complimenting her defending skills.

Before you could linger too long, Sister Ruth, the team’s coach, called the players over for another quick meeting before they headed to the showers. As Alexia turned to follow her teammates, she glanced back at you, subtly gesturing and mouthing, common room.

You nodded, understanding immediately, and made your way toward the dorm building where Alexia and the rest of the team were staying. But as you walked, you realized that you had no idea where you were going. The campus was unfamiliar, and you quickly found yourself looking around, lost and more than a little clueless.

A voice cut through your thoughts, smooth and teasing. “Are you lost, pretty girl?”

You turned to see the source of the voice — a girl with brown hair, warm brown eyes, and freckles dusting her cheeks. Your eyes quickly flickered to her shirt, noticing that she was one of the players from the home team.

“Ah, yeah…” You laughed nervously, rubbing the back of your neck. “My best friend told me to meet her at the common room in the dorm building where our team is staying in, but, uh… I have no idea how to get there.”

The girl tilted her head, biting her lip slightly as she watched you. Her eyes lingered on your lips a second longer than necessary. “Well, lucky for you, I happen to live in those dorms. I can walk you there if you’d like.”

You perked up, completely oblivious to the way she was checking you out. The thought didn’t even cross your mind—you were only ever hyperaware of flirtation when it came from Alexia.

“Really? That would be amazing!” you said, your face lighting up with gratitude. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

Her lips curled up into a smirk. “Ona,” she replied, her voice a tad deep and smooth as silk.

As Ona walked you towards the common room, you learned a lot about her. She was a couple years younger than you were and had stayed in this academy for a while but she was planning on moving out to train with a bigger school that was more geared towards sports.

“You must be really good then,” you nodded.

Ona chuckled. “Well, I don’t know if I could say that after my team lost five-nil.”

You shyly nodded. “Don’t be too hard on yourself,” you comforted. “Alexia was just really on fire today and I didn’t anticipate her to go as hard as she did today.”

Ona nodded, watching your expression carefully. “Alexia… uh, the girl with the number 11?” She asked. “She’s on another level. I’d expect to see the likes of her in La Masia or some other football academy, not in a nun school — no offense.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Yeah… she’s something else,” you said, warmth spreading through your chest at the mention of Alexia. “She deserves better training, that’s for sure.”

Ona was quick to notice the shift in your voice, raising her eyebrows. “Wait, so is she your —” She let the question hang.

Your breath hitched but you tried not to be so obviously taken aback. “My best friend?” You quickly added. “Yeah, she is.”

The brunette laughed, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. “You do know we’re a secular-run school now, right?”

You blinked, tilting your head in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Ona chuckled, her tone light. “I mean, technically we’re still a Catholic school, but we’re not as strict as you guys. Well, at least, ever since the nuns left us,” she explained. “So, everyone here is pretty open-minded.”

You bit your lip, knowing fully well what she was hinting at but you just had no clue what to say. You remained guarded; you still weren’t sure if she was to be trusted.

Ona studied your silence with curiosity before raising an eyebrow. “Wait, don’t tell me you’re a homophobe—”

“No! No!” you blurted out, your hands shooting up in defense. “I—I don’t have a problem with that. Gay people are… they’re great. The best, actually. But Alexia, she’s just a—”

Ona burst out laughing, cutting off your rambling with her genuine amusement. “Okay, okay, chill,” she said, shaking her head as if to put you out of your misery. She pushed open a large wooden door, revealing the bustling common room where a few of her teammates were hanging out. “Come on in.”

The student common room in this school was a stark contrast to the common room in your boarding school. Everyone was chattering loudly. A bunch of the other girls had already taken off their shirts, hanging around in their sports bras. The place wasn’t untidy but it certainly appeared a bit more cluttered with photos tacked all over the bulletin board and random trinkets all over the shelves.

A couple girls approached Ona, taking notice of you, still dressed in your school uniform. A shorter girl with light-colored eyes smiled.

“Ona, don’t tell me you’ve called dibs already,” she teased Ona, eyes flickering to your school emblem embroidered on your button up. “On the enemy too.”

Ona chuckled. “Shut up, Pina. She’s just here to hang out until her team comes over.” She told the shorter girl. “Be nice cause we want them to think we’re cool.”

Pina rolled her eyes. “They’re never gonna think we’re cool after they beat us 5-nil.”

“That’s just cause the captains and our goalkeeper are all sick,” A shorter girl with curly hair said before taking a sip of her jug. “We would have crushed them if we hadn’t gone to that sushi place just a few days back.”

“And who exactly recommended that sushi place, Vicky?” Pina said as she stared pointedly at the shorter girl.

Vicky shrugged. “I didn’t hear you complaining when you pounded back that rack of 5 euro sashimi.”

You chuckled at the banter, feeling a little more at ease. Without warning, Ona slipped an arm around your shoulders, her touch light yet deliberate, and began guiding you toward the sofas at the far end of the room. “Yeah, let’s get away from those two before they give you a headache,” she said with a soft laugh, her voice low and warm. “Want a drink?”

“Uh, yeah, sure. What do you have?” you asked, awkwardly perching on the edge of a worn leather couch positioned beside a refrigerator cluttered with magnets and Polaroid photos.

Ona hummed thoughtfully as she opened the fridge. “Let’s see… we’ve got soda, orange juice, beer—and some kombucha that Aitana’s been brewing. Pretty sure that’s for her stomach problems, though. Oh, and chocolate milk.”

You blinked, taken aback by the casual mention of beer in a boarding school. “Beer?”

“Beer it is,” Ona said with a playful grin, completely misinterpreting your surprise as enthusiasm. She grabbed a can and handed it to you. “Never would’ve pegged a girl from a nun school to be a beer drinker, but here you go.”

You took it cautiously, unsure of how to politely decline. “Uh… thanks.” You said as you carefully ran your fingers through the rim of the can.

Ona seemed to catch your reluctance as she plopped down beside you, her thigh brushing against yours. “Oh, my bad. Where are my manners?” she said, reaching over to take the can back. With a deft motion, she cracked it open, a slight smirk tugging at her lips. “Here you go, pretty.”

You smiled nervously and took a small sip. The bitter taste hit you immediately, and your face scrunched up in response, unable to hide disgust.

Ona noticed and laughed softly, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Not a fan of beer, huh?”

You shook your head, feeling a little embarrassed.

“No worries, I’ve got you,” she said, effortlessly taking the can from your hands. “I’ll finish this, and I’ll grab you some water. Sounds good?”

You nodded, grateful. Ona leaned back against the couch, bringing the can to her lips. She paused deliberately, taking a slow sip from the same spot you had. Her gaze flickered toward you, a playful glint in her eyes. It was obvious she was trying to flirt, but the meaning went right over your head. All you could think was how friendly and helpful she was.

As she stood to grab you some water, she looked over to you. “So, how’s nun school treating you?” She asked before handing you a glass of chilled water. “You must have stories to tell.”

You chuckled. “Well, it’s… okay,” you said cautiously, tucking a hair behind your ear. “I mean, I’ve been there all my life so it’s all I’ve ever known really.”

Ona’s eyes widened. “You’ve been in nun school since you were a kid?” She said with an incredulous tone. “I go to this school and I already feel crazy sometimes. I can’t imagine how I’d survive your school.”

You told Ona more about your life at Santa Eulalia, and just how strict it was — the curfew, the rules on leaving the premises, the uniform rules, the rules on visitation, and how rare it was that you got to see your family.

“And our common rooms have to be pristine,” you shared. “We can only have decorations if it’s related to Christianity. So, crosses and doves — all that.”

Ona shook her head. “No way.”

You nodded, a hint of a smile tugging at your lips. “Oh, and no music either, unless it’s spiritual or instrumental — like piano or violins,” you explained. “Some of the girls tried sneaking in iPods with instrumental versions of popular songs, but the sisters caught on and banned those too.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Ona said, looking genuinely horrified. With a playful glint in her eye, she reached over, taking your half-empty glass of water and replacing it with her can of beer. “Okay, I’ve changed my mind. You need to drink this. Live a little.”

You shook your head, laughing at her antics. “I’m fine, really,” you said, but there was an undeniable warmth in her playful insistence.

“So, what changed?” Ona asked, leaning closer, her curiosity clear. “You said you didn’t think of it as strict and overbearing until recently. What happened?”

Well, I met Alexia, you thought but kept to yourself.

Before you could come up with an answer, the sound of excited greetings filled the room. Your heart leapt as your teammates entered the common area, and your eyes immediately found the familiar sight of your girlfriend among them. She looked like she had just taken a bath, hair down and damp, and changed into a fresh set of clothes.

Your lips curled into a smile.

But Alexia’s expression was far less cheerful. Her brows knitted together as her gaze landed on you sitting so close to Ona. Her eyes flickered to the girl’s arm stretched across the back of the sofa, inches from your shoulder, and then to the can of beer in your hand.

Alexia’s jaw tightened. She was never the jealous type, but something about the way Ona looked at you — smug and a little too comfortable — set her on edge. She figured she was just protective because of how sheltered and clueless you were.

She walked towards you and Ona. You both stood and Ona offered a hand to Alexia which Alexia reluctantly shook. “You played great,” she complimented your girlfriend, making you smile at the fact that Alexia was being appreciated.

Alexia nodded stoically. “Thanks,” she said before turning to you. “Monjita, what do you have there?”

You looked down to your hands and chuckled. “Oh! It’s beer,” you said shocked by the sight of it. “I tasted it but didn’t like it. You want it?”

You thrusted the can towards your girlfriend who took it reluctantly.

Ona smiled, “I’ve drunk most of it already while this pretty girl,” she wrapped an arm around you, “barely even had a sip.”

Alexia’s jaw clenched, annoyed by the shorter brunette. Why is she sharing a beer with this girl?

She set the can down on a nearby table. “Do you wanna go on a walk with me, monjita?”

You nodded enthusiastically as you trailed after Alexia, giving Ona a polite goodbye and thanks for her warm accommodations.

As you moved closer to Alexia, it was her turn to wrap an arm around you and throw a quick, snide look at Ona.

“I thought you guys would never come. Y'all were taking so long,” you told your girlfriend. “Thankfully, the other team was incredibly nice. Ona seems really cool too.”

“Yeah, real cool.” Her voice said, dripping with sarcasm.

You looked quizzically at your girlfriend but didn’t prod anymore. “You did so good, by the way.” You hummed as Alexia led you back to the room she was staying in with the other girls. “You played like a pro. It was insane.”

Alexia hummed as she shut the door behind you two. Just as you were about to part your lips to say something, Alexia’s lips crashed into yours, kissing you.

She pulled away and a smile finally appeared on her face. “I just had to do that to feel better,” she said.

“W-what?”

“That Ona girl was all over you,” Alexia said as she walked over to what seemed like her bed, grabbing the brush she left on top, unable to brush her hair earlier as she had rushed out of the showers to head to you. “It made me feel a bit jealous.”

You smirked as you walked up to her. You sat on top of Alexia’s lap and grabbed the brush from her, doing the brushing instead. Sure, given your position, you weren’t doing a great job at brushing but Alexia didn’t mind. She loved having you on top of her.

“Why would you be jealous, Ale?” You cooed. “You know I’m yours already.”

She huffed, feeling a tad insecure, which made her feel silly. She was the one who had just won and the one who had a beautiful girlfriend on her lap but she still felt uneasy.

What if she’s only with me because I’m convenient, the doubtful thought flickered in Alexia’s mind.

You noticed your girlfriend’s gloomy expression. You grabbed her face and forced her to look at you. Your eyes flickered through her face. “Ale, you know I only love you, right?”

“Hmm,” she smiled, all worries dissipating. “You love me?”

You smiled back before planting a kiss on her lips. “Yes, silly,” you said. “I love you so don’t be jealous anymore.”

Alexia leaned forward to catch another kiss from you. “I love you too, monjita.” She said warmly.

You continued to brush her hair as she held you close to her. Alexia sighed. “I just really worried about seeing that girl interested in you,” she said. “She seems like she’d be your type.”

You laughed loudly. “My type? Alexia Putellas, you’re my type.”

Your girlfriend looked at you with a pouty expression which you just chuckled at. “I didn’t even have a crush until you came along.” You reminded her. “How can I have a type who isn’t you?”

Alexia’s worries were eased. “Okay, okay,” she said. “Maybe I was just being ridiculous about it.”

Her eyes fluttered to your lips. “It wouldn't hurt if you kissed me to remind me again that I’m your type.”

You rolled your eyes but shifted your position so that you’d be straddling Alexia. You dropped the brush to your side before you leaned in to capture Alexia’s lips with yours.

Alexia’s hands hiked up your long skirt, pushing it up so that the long fabric wouldn’t be that in the way. She put her hands underneath the skirt and held your ass with both hands. You gasped against her mouth once you felt her squeeze them.

You continued to kiss your girlfriend deeply, parting your lips to let her slip her tongue inside you. You moaned as you grinded your hips against her lap.

The kiss was just starting to heat up when the doors suddenly creaked open. You two suddenly jumped from the bed, apart from each other.

You looked over to the door to see Maria and Ingrid, looking just as confused as startled as you were. You felt your heart pound against your chest as you quickly shook your head and held your hands up in defense.

“We… we were just…” you stammered, your hands flying up in defense. “I was helping Alexia brush her hair.”

Maria closed the door behind her, slowly shaking her head. “Uh-huh,” she murmured, clearly not buying a word. She turned back toward you and Alexia, her expression unreadable. Ingrid’s gaze darted between you two, her lips pressed in a thin line.

Feeling the silence stretch on, you blurted, “Alexia, she just had—”

“Monjita,” Alexia interrupted, shooting you a warning look.

You blinked, looking at Alexia then her two roommates, still confused. “W-what? Are you going to tell Sister—”

Ingrid stepped forward, raising a hand to cut you off. “Relax, darling,” she said calmly, though her tone was firm. “We’ve always known you two were… a thing. And no, we’re not going to tell anyone.”

You exhaled shakily, relief mixing with disbelief as you tried to process her words. “How did you…?” You trailed off, looking between Ingrid and Maria. “When did you…?”

You threw a look at Alexia who looked just as startled. Ingrid smiled at you. “You two weren’t exactly the most subtle,” she said before looking at Maria. “Well, to us, anyway.”

Alexia glanced at Ingrid and then Maria before it clicked inside her brain. “Oh!” She said. “You two are also—”

“Yep,” Maria confirmed with a nod, crossing her arms. “Since Ingrid moved to Santa Eulalia.”

It took you a moment longer to process, but when it clicked, the realization hit you like a ton of bricks. The two had always been inseparable, practically glued to each other’s side, but you’d chalked it up to just being teammates.

“Oh!”

Ingrid chuckled at your stunned expression. “I’m sorry we didn’t tell you,” she said, stepping closer to take your hand reassuringly. “But we didn’t know if you’d… be okay with it. You know how it is.”

You nodded, still dazed.

“But I’m glad we can finally be open about this now,” Ingrid added with a warm smile before pulling you into a tight hug.

When she pulled away, her expression grew serious, her gaze shifting between you and Alexia. “Okay, now that the gushy part is over…” she began. “I need to scold you two.”

“Yeah,” Maria chimed in, rubbing the back of her neck. “Kissing with the door unlocked? Rookie move.”

Ingrid folded her arms, her tone sharpening. “Look, we’re happy for you, truly. But you two need to be more careful.”

Maria nodded in agreement, her voice quieter but equally firm. “Not everyone’s going to be as accepting as we are. You can’t even trust people who seem okay or cool. It’s not worth the risk.” She looked at Alexia. “Which is why we never told you, even if you reeked of gay.”

Ingrid laughed at her girlfriend’s comment as Alexia just shrugged and raised her eyebrows.

Ingrid sighed and looked back at you. “Just be careful, okay?” She hummed. “People can be cruel. Trust us… we know.”

You nodded cautiously. A growing anxiety filled you even though your friends had practically reassured you. You looked over to Alexia who looked just reassured.

Even if you got lucky now, with just Ingrid and Maria finding you, you know you had to be more careful later on.

You and Alexia agreed to keep the PDA on the low while you were around peers, taking a page out of Ingrid and Maria’s book wherein while they were always together, it would be hard to decipher they were a couple.

It was difficult for Alexia especially when everyone agreed to have a makeshift party after dinner in the common room with the other team. While most of the more conservative girls from your school opted out and chose to turn in early instead, a few decided to let loose and have fun with the girls from the hosting school.

Her annoyance primarily came from Ona constantly hovering around you, obviously taking an interest in you. You weren’t having much fun either, being apart from Alexia most of the time so you turned over early, using the excuse that Sister Catherine wouldn’t be pleased with you staying out too late.

Alexia watched Ona become deflated and annoyed as her attempts at flirtation had gone unappreciated, which just made Alexia feel in a better mood.

But as the night wore on, with everyone having fun and letting loose in the common room, Alexia just wanted to sneak over to your room again and just hold you. No sneaky business this time; she just missed a proper cuddle. But she knew there was no way that that was happening tonight.

Sighing deeply, she sat on the unoccupied couch after grabbing a beer, savoring the taste of it fully knowing it would take probably a year for her to taste alcohol again. To her dismay, Ona walked over to her, plopping beside her.

“So, tell me,” the shorter girl asked. “How’d you manage to bag the hottest girl in your school?”

Alexia’s jaw clenched, her expression unreadable as she brought her beer to her lips. “Don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied coolly, her voice void of any emotion as she took a swig of her beer.

Ona chuckled knowingly. “Come on, it’s so obvious. You were practically glaring at us the entire time we were talking,” she teased. Her grin widened as she added, “That’s the only explanation I’m willing to accept. There’s no way someone like her wouldn’t be into me unless—well, unless she’s already taken.”

Alexia hummed, smirking. “Maybe she just doesn’t like you,” she shrugged before downing her beer. “She might just like someone taller and less full of herself, that’s all.”

Ona scoffed with a breathy chuckle, not offended but just amused at the passive-aggressive statement, as she watched Alexia stand up and walk over to Ingrid and Maria to join their group which was playing a silly drinking game.

At the moment, Alexia felt like it was such a mic drop moment but she was quick to regret downing that last beer, along with the other drinks she had after, the next morning when her head was pounding.

Her teammates basically had to drag her out of bed the next day to get dressed and attend the mass. Arriving at the chapel, they were forced to slink into the back row, earning a few stern glances from the sisters at the front.

Slouched in her seat, Alexia pressed her fingers to her temples, trying to ignore the hammering in her skull. But as the initial prayers began, her gaze wandered, drifting to the front row where you sat.

You were impossible to miss. The bright lights directed at the altar bounced against the wall, streaming onto you with a soft glow. Your hair was styled in a neat half-ponytail, and your pristine uniform was ironed perfectly. Alexia couldn’t help but stare, her heart skipping a beat at how angelic you looked.

She leaned back slightly, trying to mask her dazed expression, but her mind was far from the mass. Instead, it replayed the events of the last time you both were in this chapel. A rouge tint covered the Catalan’s cheeks as she smiled at the memory. How she would have loved to be beside you at that moment just to teasingly raise her eyebrows at you and watch you get flustered.

Alexia could barely pay attention to the mass, mind shifting from thinking about you to internally complaining about how painful her head felt. She wished she grabbed a bottle of water before rushing to the chapel to feel at least a bit less dehydrated.

She tried to appear less hungover and dehydrated when it was time for communion when she had to pass by the first row where you and the nuns were sitting. As she passed the first row, her eyes flicked to you again. She could feel Sister Jude’s sharp gaze on her and heard the nun mutter something under her breath about Alexia’s appearance — something about her “unironed shirt” and “unkempt hair.”

But Alexia didn’t care.

Her focus was entirely on you. Your eyes met hers for the briefest moment, and your cheeks flushed a soft pink as you quickly looked away. The sight of your bashful expression made her forget the ache in her head and the disapproving glares of the sisters.

If she could, she would have teased you right then and there — raised her eyebrows suggestively or whispered something cheeky just to see you flustered. But with Sister Jude’s watchful eyes on her, Alexia forced herself to keep moving, a small smirk tugging at her lips.

As she reached the altar, she thought to herself. They can glare at me all they want. None of it matters as long as she looks at me like that.

When the mass concluded, the nuns called everyone over to the courtyard to discuss the rules for the much-anticipated day out. The group shuffled into a loose circle, the excitement palpable despite the stern expressions of the sisters.

“And girls, remember,” Sister Ruth said in a firm voice. “You are wearing your school shirt with the school emblem. This means you carry the identity of the school with you so you must uphold the values of our beloved institution.”

The group nodded obediently, though you could sense the collective impatience bubbling beneath the surface.

Sister Jude stepped forward, her sharp eyes scanning the students. “Please pair up and ensure at least one of you has a watch to keep track of time. Anyone who arrives at the bus a minute later than the scheduled departure will receive an infraction. No exceptions.”

Sister Catherine went around handing out your maps and envelopes with your modest allowance.

“Okay, girls, pair up now and remember the watch thing.” Sister Catherine said after handing over the items to everyone.

You smiled shyly at Alexia who confidently walked over to you. All headaches and sores seemed to dissipate whenever you were around her.

“Well, hello, stranger.” She teased, biting her lip as she looked at you.

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks, and you quickly glanced around to check if any of the nuns were paying attention. “Ale, don’t be too…” you trailed off, hoping she’d catch the warning in your tone.

You couldn’t help but laugh, swatting at her playfully when she tried to snake a hand around your waist. “You’re impossible,” you muttered under your breath, but the fondness in your voice was unmistakable.

Before the moment could linger, the nuns began organizing everyone into a line to board the bus. Alexia kept close to you, her arm brushing against yours as the group shuffled forward. Once you were seated, she wasted no time sprawling into her seat beside you, her long legs stretching slightly into the aisle.

You opened the map eagerly, your finger tracing the streets and landmarks marked in bold print. There was a red circle the nuns had drawn on to the map, which Sister Jude was firm on reminding everyone earlier that it was the limited parameters in which you all could roam around; they didn’t want anyone running farther than it.

“Oh, Ale, we should try this place,” you began, pointing to a gelato shop well within the confines of a parameter. “I’ve been craving a good gelato for ages now”

Alexia leaned closer, her chin nearly resting on your shoulder as she followed your finger. “Hmm, I don’t know,” she mused, using the red circle more as a go beyond this area sign. “That looks like it’s in nun territory. Too risky.”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes as Alexia leaned closer to study the fine paper of the map spread across your lap. She hummed in thought, her finger grazing various spots before she pressed it firmly on a location just beyond the red circle that marked the boundary.

“Look, monjita,” Alexia teased, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “This one says homemade gelato, and it’s right beside a jewelry shop.”

You raised an eyebrow, glancing skeptically at the spot she was pointing to. “I don’t know, Ale,” you murmured, lowering your voice. “What if the nuns catch us?”

Alexia let out an exaggerated groan, rolling her eyes. “Please, it’s like ten meters outside the parameter. They’ll be too excited being out and about to even think about exploring beyond the red circle. And think about it—” she leaned in, her hazel eyes gleaming mischievously, “we’d get to comfortably act like a couple without worrying too much.”

You hummed, contemplating. Alexia added on, “And, we can visit the jewelry shop nearby. It says it’s handmade so you can ask the shopkeeper about how she makes them.”

Your lips twitched, fighting back a smile. You’ve always wanted to explore jewelry design and crafting, and Alexia knew that. What you didn’t know, however, was that Alexia had secretly brought along some of her savings, fully planning to surprise you with an early Christmas gift.

Before you could respond, Sister Jude’s sharp voice cut through the low chatter on the bus. “Girls, one final reminder before we leave,” she announced, standing at the front of the aisle with her hands clasped tightly in front of her. “Stay within the marked areas on your maps, return to the bus on time, and for heaven’s sake, do not make a scene. Is that understood?”

A chorus of “Yes, Sister Jude” echoed through the bus, though you and Alexia exchanged a knowing glance, biting back laughter.

As the bus came to a stop, everyone began shuffling out in pairs. You and Alexia hung back slightly, waiting until the nuns were preoccupied with handing out last-minute instructions. The moment you stepped off the bus and out of their line of sight, Alexia slipped her hand into yours, her fingers intertwining with a natural ease.

She gave your hand a light squeeze before pulling you closer, pressing a quick kiss to your temple. “There,” she said with a grin, her voice soft. “Finally.”

You blushed, glancing around to make sure no one was watching. “Ale, you’re going to get us in trouble,” you muttered, though you didn’t pull away.

“Relax,” she said, brushing her thumb over your knuckles. “We’re just two innocent best friends holding hands. Totally normal.”

Alexia and you had begun wandering towards the direction of the gelato stop, occasionally stopping to look through shopfronts and the animals that passed by with their owners. Whenever a small dog passed by, Alexia gushed at it, even going out to say a small bon dia to every dog, surprising you. “Never pegged you to be such a dog lover.”

Alexia nodded. “I’ve always wanted a dog, a small one like the one.” She shared, before moving her hand from yours to around your shoulder. “But my grandparents were allergic so all we had were stupid fish.”

You chuckled, biting your lip as you got an idea. “Well, we can always just buy a dog then,” you chirped. “It can live in our apartment since the owner did say the building is pet-friendly.”

Alexia immediately caught on to your roleplaying and played along. “Oh, but honey, are you sure you’d be fine with it? What if it poops all over our apartment?”

You smiled widely. “Well… I’ll make you pick it up then.”

“Sure,” she hummed. “Or we can just hire a dog nanny! I mean, we both make so much money anyway now that you practically own Cartier and I’m a big-time football superstar!”

You nodded. “A dog nanny it is.”

You looked up to her, locking eyes before you both burst into a laugh at yourselves. Alexia shook her head, “But seriously, if we do leave that school, would you like to…” she trailed off, worrying it would be too soon to even bring it up.

You squeezed the hand around your shoulder with your own, making Alexia meet your eyes. “Of course, Alexia,” you said sincerely. “We’ll get a place of our own, adopt a dog – maybe, not a dog nanny yet – but yeah…”

Alexia’s eyes warmed visibly. She exhaled a quiet laugh but there was a hint of emotion to it. She didn’t want to be overly emotional over something so small so she just stayed silent, smiling to herself.

“Oh look,” Alexia pointed. “It’s the gelato shop.”

The shop was small and inviting, with an intricately painted sign overhead that read Gelateria Fiori. The front was painted with white and light pink stripes and there was a string of fairy lights hanging above the sign.

You stepped inside, holding hands with Alexia, immediately overwhelmed by the aroma of fresh waffle cones and a variety of flavors. The two of you peered into the display with handwritten signs of traditional and more unusual flavors: Pistachio, Stracciatella, Chocolate, Vanilla, Lavender Honey, Mint, and even a bunch more.

Alexia chuckled at your wide-eyed expression. “You look like a kid in a candy store.”

You beamed at her. “How aren’t you excited?” You said, unable to contain your excitement. “Everything here looks so good.”

Without hesitation, you leaned over the counter and began asking the worker for samples, your voice bubbling with enthusiasm. Alexia stayed back, watching with a soft smile as you tasted flavor after flavor. There was a childlike wonder in your eyes, and it made her chest feel warm.

You hummed happily after trying the Stracciatella. “Why are all the flavors so good?” you groaned, turning to Alexia with an exaggerated pout. “Maybe having ice cream before lunch wasn’t such a good idea.”

Alexia smiled, tucking a hair behind your ear, happy to see you be so excited over ice cream. “Let’s be bad, angel,” she said in a low voice. “Let’s have ice cream for lunch.”

Your cheeks warmed at her touch, but you laughed, the playfulness in her tone impossible to resist. “Alright,” you said, already scanning the counter again. “If we’re being bad, I’m going all out.”

You ended up ordering three scoops of different flavors, piling them high in a waffle cone. Alexia went for a parfait, elegantly layered with fruit and gelato. The two of you found a cozy corner table by the window, the faint sound of the street outside blending with your quiet chatter.

As you dug into your ice cream, Alexia couldn’t help but watch you with a fond expression. You caught her gaze and tilted your head, raising an eyebrow. “Ale, why are you staring at me like that?”

“I have an idea,” Alexia smiled as her lips curled into a smile, swirling her spoon around in her parfait. “Why don’t we pretend this is a first date?”

You tilted your head. “First date?”

“Yeah, I mean, we never really had a real first date. I just met you, moved in, and lived with you ever since — talk about UHAUL.” She joked which you cautiously laughed at, not understanding the joke reference. She smiled, forgetting you were the sheltered angel that you were, always so clueless to pop culture references. She exhaled. “Okay, I’ll start – hey, I’m Alexia.”

You chuckled, introducing yourself before stretching your hand to shake hers. “Nice to meet you, Alexia.”

“So, I like football and I like going to the beach and having a swim,” she said, putting a finger to her chin, pretending to think. “Oh, and I like pretty, innocent girls and how they blush whenever I look at them.”

“Girls – plural?” You playfully cocked an eyebrow at her.

“First date and you’re jealous already?” She teased, before putting a spoonful of ice cream in her mouth.She nodded. “But… I guess, I do like possessive girls.”

You two chuckled. The pretend date continued with you two being silly over your fantasies of delusion. No matter how ridiculous it was, it kinda felt like a real first date. It gave you the normalcy that being in a boarding school deprived you of.

After you finished your ice cream, you walked over to the nearby jewelry shop. The storefront had an inviting and esoteric charm with warm light spilling out onto the street. Inside, there were carved wooden displays all over the shop. There were glass cases filled with uniquely crafted items.

The tall woman with a friendly smile greeted you and Alexia. “Hello, ladies. Looking for anything in particular?”

You bit your lip, thinking about the Euro notes left in your envelope, knowing all you’d be able to afford was maybe the clasp or a steel chain. You nodded with, “Oh, yes, just looking…”

The clerk gestured for you to browse freely. Alexia leaned in and whispered, “Go ahead, enjoy yourself.” She gave your shoulder a light squeeze before stepping aside, letting you take your time exploring.

You wandered off to the far end of the room, completely captivated by the sparkling displays. Your eyes sparkled with awe as you admired delicate rings, intricate necklaces, and bracelets adorned with gemstones.

While you were lost in admiration, Alexia approached the clerk with a soft smile. Lowering her voice, she said, “So… I really want to get a nice gift for my girlfriend, but I have no idea where to start.”

The clerk’s eyes sparkled. “Ooh, how sweet! So thoughtful at such a young age,” she walked over to grab a velvet box of rings, lifting the glass lid to show Alexia. “Rings are popular with young couples; you can get her a promise ring, if you’d like.”

Alexia’s eyes carefully scanned the set, touching one that looked like a branch. Her fingers brushed against the texture of the gold ring. “Oh this is gorgeous,” she hummed. “It kinda reminds me of a tree branch.”

The clerk nodded approvingly. “It’s one of our more unique pieces.

Alexia studied the ring for a moment longer before setting it down carefully. It was lovely, but something about it didn’t feel quite right. “Could I put this one aside and look at some necklaces instead?” she asked.

“Of course, dear,” the clerk replied warmly, leading Alexia to another corner of the shop.

They explored several options together—gemstone necklaces, bold statement pieces, and quirky designs with small working watches or abstract shapes. None of them seemed right. The extravagant pieces would be too ostentatious for you while the novelty pieces just felt impersonal.

Then, a glint caught Alexia’s eyes. She walked over to the source, looking into the glass case and she saw the most delicate necklace with a small, intricately designed bird.

The moment Alexia saw it, her eyes lit up. The simplicity and elegance of the piece struck a chord in her. The clerk noticed her reaction and smiled knowingly. Alexia gushed silently. “This is so perfect.”

Alexia touched the charm again, feeling the texture under her touch. It reminded her of your drawings but this time, this bird wasn’t grounded or caged or shot in the heart. It was a bird mid-flight, glowing and sparkling under the light. It was gorgeous but not too flashy — just a small golden bird with its wings outspread on a dainty chain. It was perfect.

Alexia’s face softened into a warm smile. “I’ll take it,” she said without hesitation. Then she paused, a flicker of practicality crossing her mind, realizing she didn’t have an unlimited budget. “Wait… how much is it?”

The clerk chuckled at Alexia's reaction, quoting a price that was comfortably within Alexia’s budget. Relief washed over her — she could afford the necklace and still have enough left for a croissant or a peach later, if you suddenly fancied one.

“Perfect,” Alexia said with a firm nod. She handed over the cash and processed the purchase before calling you over. You turned around to see an excited look on your girlfriend’s face. You smiled and made your way over to her.

Alexia smiled at you. “Close your eyes and turn around,” she said. “I wanna show you something.”

You curiously tilted your head but she just nodded, gesturing for you to trust her. Without another moment of hesitation, you followed her orders, turned around and closed your eyes. “Now, lift up your hair.” Alexia said in a warm, low voice. The excitement was obvious in her tone.

With both hands, you delicately held your hair up as if in a makeshift ponytail as you felt something light be put around your neck. Alexia clasped the necklace from behind, feeling incredibly happy with her purchase. Carefully, she spun you around. “Open your eyes.”

As soon as your eyes fluttered open, the first thing you saw was your girlfriend’s smile, immediately warming your heart. “Look at the mirror, monjita.”

You nodded as you turned to the mirror propped on the display case and felt your breath get caught in your throat. “Wow, it’s so beautiful,” you didn’t know why but suddenly, tears welled up in your eyes as your hand gently grazed the charm, scared that it would break if you touched it any firmer. “I… it’s so…”

Alexia smiled. “You like it?”

You nodded and quickly wiped the small tears in your eyes as you did. Before you could even whisper to her that you didn’t have the funds to cover it, Alexia smiled and said, “It’s yours.”

“W-what?”

“I got it for you… as a gift,” Alexia said. “Think of it as an early Christmas present.”

Your mouth practically opened wide as she said it. Your eyes flickered to the reflection of the necklace then back to Alexia. “No, no,” you gushed. “You can’t… it’s too much.”

Alexia shook her head. “I already bought it, and they don’t do refunds.” She joked before putting a hand on your face, using her thumb to rub against your face. “C’mon, just say thanks and promise you’ll take care of it.”

You practically jumped into Alexia’s arms, wrapping your arms around her neck to hold her tightly. “Oh my god, Alexia, this is so nice of you.” You gushed. “I loved it. You’re the actual angel between us.”

Alexia felt herself grow soft and warm as she saw how happy you were. She smiled as she saw you look at yourself in the mirror, touching the necklace. The glow on your face was priceless; you truly looked like an actual angel to her. “Anything for my angel.”

You wanted to kiss Alexia then and there but the presence of the store clerk made you hesitate, settling to plant a kiss on her cheek instead. “Thank you, thank you so much.” You said in a hushed voice.

You two locked eyes for a moment before the store clerk interrupted, “I don’t usually do this but,” she paused to crouch down and grab a wooden box from behind the counter, fishing inside. “And I’m only doing this cause I’m a fan of young love, and I really think you two are cute and — ah, there it is…”

She took out a necklace from the cluttered box. “I actually have the prototype for that necklace,” she said. “It’s not as detailed and clean as the one you got but… I think it would be nice if you two matched.”

The lady handed over a nearly identical necklace. It wasn’t as polished as the one Alexia had bought for you but the difference was not all that different. You took it from her carefully.

“I should buy you this,” you paused to look into your bag where the envelope was. “Well, if it’s within my budget…”

The lady interrupted. “No, no, I’m giving it to you two and it’s not a big deal. It would have just been forgotten in this little box anyway.” She clarified, relieving you. “I think it deserves to belong with its twin and with a beautiful couple who deserve equally beautiful matching statement pieces.”

You thanked the lady endlessly before making your girlfriend turn around. “Okay, Alexia, bend so I can put this on you.” You ordered, trying to sound as confident as she did. She chuckled and bent her knees a bit as she lifted her hair.

You carefully placed the necklace around her neck, making sure to clasp it carefully. She turned around and looked into the mirror, beaming at the sight of the two of you with your matching necklaces.

“You two are so beautiful that I could cry,” the lady gushed, clasping her hands together dramatically. “Please, when the time comes and you two decide to get married, come back and I’ll gladly craft your rings for you – with a very generous discount.”

You chuckled, cheeks warming at her enthusiasm. You haven't even thought about marriage yet here was some stranger rooting so hard for the two of you that she was determined you'd end up walking down the aisle with Alexia. It was cute.

Before you could respond, Alexia smirked, mischief glinting in her eyes. “What do you think, honey?” she teased, slipping an arm loosely around your shoulders. “A simple gold band with a massive diamond? Maybe… thirteen carats?”

You shook your head and chuckled before playing along with her silliness. “Oh, absolutely. And don’t forget our darling dog. We'll need to get him a matching golden collar, of course.”

The two of you burst into laughter, the sound light and unrestrained, filling the cozy jewelry shop like a melody. At that moment, you forgot about boarding school, the high standard you had to uphold, the judgement; it all disappeared like a faint memory.

You glanced at Alexia as her laughter softened, her face still glowing with warmth. There was a lightness in her eyes that made your heart ache in the best way. In that fleeting moment, you felt like two birds flying high, chasing after one another playfully as you chirped gleefully.

You wished you could feel like that forever – free to love, free to live, free to be who you were without having to live up to who everyone expected you to be. Life would have been so much easier, if it were.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t your life.

After sharing a croissant and a soda on your way back from the jewelry shop, you’d realized that it was almost time for the agreed-upon meet-up. So, Alexia and you ran back with Alexia having to hold back just so she wouldn’t leave you trailing behind.

Once you got to the bus, Sister Jude gave you a faint glare. “You’re late,” she tutted before looking at her watch. “Well… almost late.”

You apologized even if you didn’t do anything wrong. Suddenly, the constrained feeling rushed back in. This was the life you actually had – a life where you had to be the perfect girl, live according to the rules, the bible, to the nun’s expectation. You clutched your necklace nervously as you stepped on the bus, finding comfort in its cold touch.

You sighed. Maybe that taste of freedom was enough for you to realize how desperate you were to leave the school and live the life you actually wanted.

Since returning back from the trip, life at Santa Eulalia felt more suffocating than ever. You’d always known that the school was restrictive but now, it felt unbearable to stay inside the confines of the school. You felt like a bird freed, given a taste of soaring through the sky, only to be captured again and forced back into your cage.

Every task, every class, every Bible reading – it felt like such a burden, holding you down and keeping you from living life.

Alexia noticed the change almost immediately. You talked endlessly about life outside — the places you wanted to see, the people you wanted to meet. You asked her to tell you more stories about her travels, about the countries and cities she’d visited. You even tried to ask her more about football, and what the culture surrounding it was outside the confines of your school.

The once vast halls of the school seemed to shrink around you.

It wasn’t just the yearning for freedom that consumed you; it was the growing doubt in your heart. The blind devotion that once guided you now wavered, replaced by a sense of questioning. For the first time, you started to wonder if you truly believed. You hated how questions were discouraged, and how curiosity was seen as rebellion. You hated how faith often came without explanations, leaving you feeling hollow when you sought deeper understanding.

You tried to keep up appearances for the sisters and your peers. You still bowed your head during prayers and recited the hymns when required, but you were slipping. You no longer volunteered to lead Bible studies, you didn’t initiate faith talks like you once had, and you even forgot to pray before meals.

No one noticed at first, but you did. You felt it in every small way you disconnected from the person you used to be.

One Thursday morning, you woke up to your girlfriend, gently rubbing your shoulder. “Hey sleepyhead,” she cooed. “It’s almost 8 am.”

With those words, you jolted awake; you’ve forgotten about leading early morning prayer. The dorm heads usually took turns leading the morning prayer or liturgy hours with any other student awake and willing to join as early as 6 am. Thursdays were your assigned days but you might have chatted too far into the early morning with Alexia that you failed to wake up in time.

“Oh my god,” you gasped.

“Hey, hey, relax,” Alexia soothed, placing a calming hand on your arm. “It’s all good. I woke up in time and covered for you. Told the nuns you had a migraine.”

Relief washed over you, and you flung your arms around her. “Alexia, what would I do without you?” you whispered, gratitude spilling over.

Alexia smiled softly, her hand gently rubbing your back. “You’d be fine, monjita. But I gotta say…” she pulled back to look at you, her expression growing serious. “You haven’t seemed like your usual, um, perfectionist self this past week. Don’t get me wrong… I love how laid-back you’ve been lately. It’s nice to see you relax. But…”

She tilted her head, her warm hazel eyes searching yours. “I feel like something’s off. Is there something wrong?”

You hesitated, biting your lips and unconsciously pulling your blankets up. “Since the trip…” you started. “I just have been feeling… restrained.”

Alexia smiled knowingly, reaching over to tuck stray hairs behind your ear. “Monjita, I get it.” She comforted you. “I’ve been feeling the same thing lately. Ever since our trip, I just miss living a normal life. Even if it did suck seeing girls flirt with you, I felt like that was the sense of normalcy I’ve missed.”

You chuckled a bit before sighing. “I’m just itching to get back out.”

She hummed. “I get it, angel.” She responded. “Only a few more months and we get to leave this place.”

Her words warmed your heart. “Just have to push through the next months,” you repeat to yourself.

You would have thought that you would have learned from the morning prayer incident.

But this time, the slip-up was bigger. Much bigger.

You’d completely forgotten to prepare the Advent wreath —something you usually planned weeks in advance. Every year, you meticulously decorated it with ribbons, ornaments, and delicate details, knowing how much everyone looked forward to seeing it displayed at Mass. But with how distracted and out of sorts you’d been lately, the task had completely slipped your mind.

You were only reminded when a girl from Ingrid’s dorm asked if you needed more ribbons, offering up her own. She said she didn’t know if you’d still need them, given that you may have been already done with it since the wreath was due that afternoon.

You’ve fallen into a panic, fishing out random stuff from the common room closet and your own craft box. You haphazardly glue-gunned and pieced together a wreath that looked decent for a casual advent display for a small classroom but yours was often used for the mass which all the students attended. It was the kind everyone looked forward to seeing by the altar. Fantastic wreaths were kinda what you’ve become known for in Santa Eulalia.

And now, here it was – your drab, uninspired, and lacklustre wreath.

The nuns’ reactions confirmed your worst fears. As they inspected the wreath, their raised eyebrows and soft but unmistakable tuts cut through you like a blade. Their disappointment was palpable.

You didn’t even try to make an excuse for the subpar quality of it. You just stood there and took in their judgement. The nuns said nothing more than a curt “thanks” with a biting tone.

As you turned to leave, Sister Catherine called out to you. Her voice was gentle, her expression warm — a stark contrast to the others.

“Dear,” she began, her tone kind but measured, “since Edith took over in the library, the books have fallen into a bit of disarray.” She clasped her hands together and asked carefully, “Would you be so kind as to help rearrange them back into proper order? It might take a while though.”

Her smile was warm, but you could feel the weight of the other nuns’ gazes on you, testing your response. After the wreath fiasco, there was no room for refusal even if the last thing you wanted to do was spend an entire day in the library. You acquiesced, forcing a nod and a polite smile.

Sister Catherine thanked you warmly before you walked out, feeling a weight on your shoulders. You were slowly losing care or appreciation about the whole tradition that came with your religion this time of year; it was slowly appearing to you as some cover-up of all the bigotry the beliefs held. But, it still sucked that you let the sisters down.

You were always their favorite, and how couldn’t you be their favorite?

You were on top of things, leading prayers and organizing novenas, even initiating decorating advent wreaths and nativity scenes. You didn’t realize that all your years in the school – working your ass off – was just you eventually setting yourself up for failure.

And you just hated the judgement that came with it, the way the nuns looked at you with such disapproval, as though one mistake had unraveled everything you’d worked for.

They were supposed to be compassionate, understanding, forgiving. But too often, they were rigid and demanding. They expected perfection from you, and the moment you fell short, they were quick to remind you of it.

And the worst part? They didn’t even need to say much. A glance, a raised brow, a click of the tongue — they knew how to make you feel small without lifting a finger.

You sighed deeply, dragging your feet as you walked away. As much as you wanted to rant about the unfairness of it all, you couldn’t escape the gnawing guilt inside. You’d messed up. You hadn’t been yourself lately, and it was starting to show in ways you couldn’t ignore.

If you didn’t want your cracks to show, you had to pull things together and at least show them you’re good enough – at least, good enough to graduate and leave this academy, once and for all.

Even if your cage was small, the last thing you wanted to do was peck at the hand that kept you in that cage because you knew that in just a few months, you’d be set free.

Alexia was quick to agree to help out in the library. Football training was on hold now that the weather was getting colder and exam season was approaching. It was sad not being able to play her favorite sport but it also meant spending more time with you, even if you two had to endure dusty books and the menial task of organizing them until the late hours of the night.

You got through the day with your new favorite pastime – roleplay.

Often, Alexia and you would play pretend, mostly acting as if you were a normal couple that lived outside the walls. You two were starting to get so good at it that you might as well start an improv club.

Cleaning up the dishes after lunch? A couple bickering about when they should buy a dishwasher. Polishing the steel vessels used in mass? An aristocratic couple forced to polish their gold-encrusted silverware after they sacked their maids. And now, in the library, still organizing in the late hours, Alexia decided it would be funny practicing pick-up lines on you as if you were meeting for the first time.

“Okay, okay, listen to this one,” Alexia said, placing a book on a shelf you’d struggled to reach earlier. She turned toward you with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Hey, girl, are you a library book?”

You chuckled. “No.”

Alexia rolled her eyes dramatically, groaning as if you’d ruined her performance. “Monjita, you’re supposed to ask why.”

Still laughing, you raised your hands in mock surrender. “Alright, fine. Why am I a book?"

The smile returned on Alexia’s face as she put one hand against the bookshelf, trying to be all suave. “Cause I wanna check you out.”

You let out a sigh, shaking your head at her cheesy delivery. “Even I—your girlfriend — wouldn’t swoon for that.”

“Ouch, monjita!” Alexia groaned, clutching her chest as if wounded. “Okay, okay, let me redeem myself. I’ve got a better one.”

You crossed your arms, raising a skeptical brow. “Alright, impress me.”

She brushed her hair back in an exaggerated motion. “Hey, baby girl, are you a book?”

You squinted, already suspicious. “This is the same one!”

“It’s not, I swear!” she insisted, a playful gleam in her eyes. She looked at you with mock sincerity, as if pleading for one last chance. You sighed, indulging her.

“Alright, fine. Why am I a book?”

Alexia smirked, leaning closer. “Because I just wanna pick you up and spread you wide open.”

Your jaw dropped as your cheeks flushed red. With a gasp, you immediately grabbed the nearest book and smacked her lightly on the arm. Alexia burst into laughter, clutching her sides as she leaned against the shelf for support.

“You’re so disgusting,” you exclaimed. “You should be glad I like you.”

Alexia chuckled, pleased with your response. “If you think I’m so bad at it, why don’t you give it a try.”

You hummed, taking a moment to think as you stacked the books in proper order. You bit your lip and turned to your girlfriend. “Uh, I don’t know,” you said. “I don’t have any pick-up line skills like you do.”

Alexia smiled. “It doesn’t have to be witty or joke-y.” She explained. “Just try flirting with me like we’re meeting for the first time.”

You sighed, pausing. “Uh, hey,” your eyes nervously flickered. “I like your necklace?”

Alexia looked down on her necklace as if surprised it was there. “Oh wow, thanks!” She feigned sincerity, looking up to you. “Yours isn’t so bad either.”

You chuckled, shaking your head, ready to drop the act until Alexia moved closer and touched your necklace. “Our necklaces are pairs so does that make us a pair?” She gushed dramatically.

“Hmm, I guess,” you said, returning to the task of stacking books.

Alexia sighed. “Well, I guess that means we’re soulmates then. Destined to meet each other,” she said as if she were some actress on a stage. “That means we have to kiss now.”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes at her. “It might just mean we bought it from the same place?”

Alexia wouldn’t drop the act. She gently took your face, making you look at her. “No, it means we have to kiss.” She said softly with a more genuine tone this time. You smiled as you looked into her eyes, deciding a small kiss wouldn’t hurt considering that it was late into the night and the library was completely empty. You leaned in and gave your girlfriend a small, gentle kiss. You pulled away immediately, biting your lip.

“Hmm, I guess maybe we are soulmates, my darling necklace-partner.” You said in a soft yet joking tone. She smiled, not moving to lean back. You searched her eyes, hesitating for a moment but you couldn’t resist her.

You put down the book still in your hand and grabbed Alexia’s face, initiating a more intense kiss. Alexia didn’t expect you to kiss her so intensely; all she expected was another soft kiss but who was she to decline a make-out session with her beautiful girlfriend?

Your hands tangled into Alexia’s hair, deepening the kiss. You moaned silently as her hands moved to the small of your back. Even if you kissed Alexia every day, you still were always surprised every time by just how good she was at it. She knew how to tease you, make you moan, and leave you wanting for more with just her kiss.

Kissing Alexia always felt so freeing, so liberating.

“Oh my god.”

It was soft but it was loud enough for you two to hear and practically jump away from each other. You looked at the far end of the dim aisle you were tucked away in and saw the familiar sight of one of your peers - Anna.

She had a mouth to her hand, stunned by the sight. Soon, she started walking towards you two as you gulped and threw a nervous look at Alexia who seemed to share your anxiety.

“Oh my Lord, I can’t believe it.” The younger girl gasped as she realized that it was you and Alexia that she saw. “I… I heard rumors about Alexia… why she’s here but I would have never thought that you…”

Anna looked at you with shaking eyes and an intense look on her face. “A companion of fools suffers harm.”

“Huh?” Alexia whispered quietly in confusion but you got it immediately. It was the Bible verse you cited to her before.

“You told me that when I got here,” the young girl said, pointing an accusatory finger at you. “You told me to surround myself with good people, people that will make me better.”

You gulped but stayed still, not saying a word.

“And now,” she shifted her gaze to Alexia. “Look at you. You keep a dirty homosexual for company and now, you’re just like her.”

“Anna, it’s not…” Your voice came out weakly. “It isn’t what you think it is.”

She chuckled dryly. “Yeah? Are you gonna lie to me now? Tell me you weren’t just letting her stick her tongue in your mouth?” You were shocked by the sudden outrage coming from this girl. Just months ago, she was timid and shy but you figured that all the time she spent with the nuns may have influenced her, indoctrinating her.

“Sister Philomena was right,” Anna’s voice shook, confirming your thoughts and speculations. “If you walk this earth with fellow lambs, you will never get lost. If you walk with wolves, you get eaten.”

Alexia stepped forward. “What are you going to do about it? No one’s going to believe you.” She taunted back. “Y/N’s been here longer. She’s established her status in this place. They would take her word over yours.”

Anna frowned. “You seriously still believe that she...” she paused to look at you, “...is still loved and admired by the sisters? For the past few weeks, they’ve been whispering about her incompetence and how she’s been slipping up.”

“And besides, Alexia, maybe you're right and they might still like her but they certainly hate you.” She said. “You’re practically one foot out of the door in this institute. They won't hesitate to expel you.”

“Why?” You asked. “Why are you doing this?”

Anna stared at you like you had just said the most absurd, offensive thing imaginable. Her face twisted with disdain. “Because I love the Lord, and I live by His word,” she declared with fervor. “And when I see depravity — when I see sinners like you — I know it’s my duty to make things right.”

Her words struck you like a slap, leaving you momentarily frozen. Before you could even try to reason with her, Anna had turned on her heel, already running of to tattle the sisters.

“Anna, wait!” you called after her, stepping forward, desperation rising like a tidal wave in your chest. “Please!”

But she didn’t stop.

You felt your knees start to buckle, your body trembling as you were overcome with panic. Before you could collapse, Alexia was suddenly by your side, her strong arms wrapping around you to hold you upright.

“Monjita,” she murmured urgently, her voice low and firm, though you could hear the tremor of tension in it. “It’s going to be okay. We need to run away. Now.”

The tone of Alexia’s voice made you even more nervous. You tried to stop yourself from crying. “W-what?”

“Listen to me.” Alexia placed her hands firmly on your shoulders, forcing you to meet her gaze. Her tone was steady, but there was a sharp edge of urgency behind it. “The best option we have now is to leave. Tonight. Right now.”

“B-but it’s the middle of the night –”

“Please,” she begged. “Trust me.”

You swallowed before nodding, putting all your trust in Alexia even if the doubt never left your mind. “Okay.”

You both scurried to your dorm room. As soon as you got there, you opened your only duffel bag and filled it with only your jug of water, a few change of clothes, your wallet and your sketchbook. Alexia moved swiftly, taking everything she thought you two would need, thanking herself for saving enough money for you two to at least secure a train ticket to the nearest city.

She took your hand, slinging her bag on her shoulder. “Monjita, we need to go.”

You nodded and held on to her tightly before you two left your dorm room.

You nodded, gripping her hand tightly as she led you out of the dormitory.

The night air was cold and biting as you two hurried down the halls and across the field. Every creak of the floorboards, every rustle of the wind made your heart jump. You could barely hear Alexia’s breathing over the pounding of your own heart.

“Alexia,” you whispered, struggling to keep up with her determined pace. “What if they catch us?”

“They won’t,” she replied firmly, though her grip on your hand tightened. “Just keep moving.”

You looked back once more, nervous that you might catch a glimpse of them running after you two, but you kept running until you finally reached the gates, your breath coming in long gasps. Alexia fumbled with the latch, her fingers cold and trembling. With a faint metallic click, the gate creaked open, and the two of you slipped through, breaking into a run as soon as your feet hit the gravel road.

You two ran and ran. The train station was at least 20 minutes away and you knew there was no way that the nuns – those fragile, aged ladies – could ever catch up to the two of you.

“Stay close,” Alexia said as you finally covered a significant distance from the gates. Alexia breathed heavily, feeling the cold air nip at her skin and make it harder for her to breathe.

You nodded, even more winded than your girlfriend. “Do you think Anna told them?”

Alexia shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.” She sighed. “We’re out now. They can’t control us.”

A sigh of relief escaped your lips but then the worry lingered not far behind. “But what do we do now? Where do we go?”

“My parents,” she started. “We have to go to the city first since I don’t think our money could cover the cost to our province. I have a friend who works in the city and has a place there. We can call my parents up and ask them for some money so that we can take a train. They’ll help us.”

You nodded, trusting Alexia. You knew that at this point, she too was desperate.

Alexia had always talked about her parents and how loving they were. They only sent her to her grandparents once her father had fallen ill and her grandparents offered to take care of her, financially supporting her and housing her as she attended school. She put up with their religious bullshit, not wanting to worry her parents. She knew they had a lot going on already.

Though, at times, Alexia wished she complained sooner, and told them about how unbearable life was being forced to live by the Bible. But then again, that would have meant that she would never have met you.

You finally reached the train station, feeling a rush of relief through you. It was scary, not knowing what would happen next or even how your parents would react if they found out about you running off with a girl. But you figured that you’d rather free-fall into the unknown than willingly walk back into your own cage.

Alexia led the way to the ticket counter, her hand gripping yours tightly as if afraid to let go. At the booth, she leaned forward, pointing to a stop on the map. “Two tickets, please,” she said, her voice strained but steady.

The ticket agent nodded, starting to type.

For a moment, you began to relax. The station was quiet, almost empty, and the thought of being on a train heading somewhere — anywhere — was exhilarating. But then, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the station.

You looked over to the source of the sound and tugged at Alexia’s sleeves. She looked over and she gulped, looking at your eyes apologetically, as if she could have gotten you out of there faster.

The policemen approached, their heavy boots thudding against the tile. One of them, a stocky man with a clipboard in hand, stopped in front of you.

“Evening, ladies,” he said, flipping through the report. “Got a call from the nearby academy. Two students ran off with some… golden crucifixes?” His tone was dry, almost dismissive as if he didn’t believe it himself. “That wouldn’t happen to be you, would it?”

Alexia stood straighter, her voice firm. “No, officer, we didn’t steal anything.”

The cops looked at you two skeptically. “Right. Well, we don’t have the authority to search you here,” he said, his voice low and measured. “But we do need to escort you back to the school until we can get the proper paperwork sorted.”

Your voice quivered. “Please, officer, we were just leaving the school. We can show you our bags willingly just to show you we haven’t stolen anything. Please."

The tall officer glanced at his partner, who shrugged lazily. “Sorry, kid. Not how this works. We’ve got procedures.” He stepped closer, his tone hardening. “Now let’s go. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

Your heart sank as the gravity of the situation hit you. The station, once a beacon of freedom, now felt like a trap. You glanced at Alexia, whose jaw was clenched in frustration. Her hand squeezed yours, a silent attempt to reassure you, but you both knew the truth: your escape had been cut short.

It felt like a hunter’s arrow had struck your wings — wounding you, grounding you just when you’d thought you were about to soar. Nothing too fatal, just enough to wound a part of your wings, just enough to get you back into that cage.

The next events felt like a blur.

You held hands the entire way home and were only forced apart when Alexia was taken away by the nuns. You cried silently, clutching onto your jacket tightly as the nuns instructed you to head on to the other dorm building, to be watched over by another dorm head.

Luckily, it was Ingrid tasked to guard over you.

As soon as the door behind the two of you was shut, Ingrid came running to you, holding you in her arms as you sobbed, heaving with cries of sadness. She tried to console you but even she didn’t know what she would do if she were in your position.

“It’s going to be alright, darling,” she said, trying to sound as convincing as she could, even if she didn’t believe herself. “Shhh, you’ll be okay.”

You knew it was far from over, with the worst yet to come. Yet, you stayed in Ingrid’s arms, wounded and helpless, knowing that not even god could free you now.

‎ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ACT VI. Falling, Never to Fly Again

It was 5 am when you were tapped awake by Ingrid. It didn’t take too much to wake you; you were barely asleep. Ingrid just nodded at you, giving you an affirmative look as she was not able to say anything without bringing suspicion to herself.

As you stood, you immediately noticed several sisters in Ingrid’s dorm room, standing tall as they looked at you with judgment in their eyes. Even the warm and energetic Sister Catherine avoided your sight, shaking her head as you passed her.

They kept a close distance behind you and Ingrid as Ingrid led you to Sister Philomena’s office. A flashback of the last time Ingrid led you to the Sister Superior’s office flashed through your mind but this time, it felt worse. It was more silent and a lot colder. Ingrid couldn’t calm you down with her words or even hold your hand in solidarity as the nuns kept a watchful eye on both of you.

You didn’t know what to expect. You’ve spent the past hours thinking up the most doomed scenarios in your head and yet you still weren’t sure what you would face.

The door creaked open, revealing Sister Philomena seated in her high-backed chair, her face contorted into a mask of disapproval. Her piercing gaze bore into you, and you felt your breath hitch as the heavy atmosphere of the room settled over you. Your eyes darted around, desperate to find Alexia, but she was nowhere in sight.

“She’s not here,” Sister Philomena said sharply, answering your unspoken question. Her tone was calm, yet laced with venom. She motioned with a flick of her hand, and Ingrid hesitated before shutting the door behind her. You caught one last glimpse of Ingrid’s concerned face before you were left alone with the Sister Superior and the other nuns standing behind you.

The room felt suffocating, the walls pressing in as you stepped forward, legs trembling. You stood before the massive wooden desk, and Sister Philomena slowly raised her eyes to meet yours. Her gaze was sharp and unwavering, filled with animosity and judgement.

“Of all the students that have walked these halls and worn the Institute’s badge,” she pointed at you. “You were the one I was certain would walk the right path.”

“We always knew you would do the right thing, say the right thing,” she continued, with a steady yet firm voice. “You were the one we trusted to uphold the values and walk the rightful path, the path towards God. You were the one I least expected to stray.”

Her finger pointed accusingly at you. “We always trusted you to do the right thing. To be the right thing. You were meant to be a shining example, a beacon of virtue, a reflection of the teachings of Christ Himself. And now…” Her voice faltered, though her anger did not. “Now you’ve let us down.”

You dropped your eyes to the floor, unable to withstand her withering glare. She continued, her voice rising slightly, her frustration palpable. “You have not only defied the rules of this institution, but you have defied God’s will. And for what? For her?”

You remained steady and unmoving, not wanting to say or do anything that could frustrate her even more. The sister clicked her tongue, pausing to see if you would speak up or react but you froze in your spot, not wanting to give her anything to work with.

The sister tapped her pen on the desk, the sharp sound filling the silent room. The clicking sound sent shivers down your spine as it cracked through the silence each time.

“I called your parents.”

Your head shot up, your heart sinking like a stone in water. The blood drained from your face as her words registered. Sister Philomena smirked at your reaction, though her eyes remained devoid of any warmth.

“Oh, don’t worry,” she said with a mocking tone. “I told them it wasn’t your fault.”

You parted your mouth to say something but nothing escaped. The sister hummed. “I told them you were simply kidnapped by her,” she added. “That you were an unwilling victim to her perversion.”

Your lips quivered at her words as tears welled up in your eyes as you shook your head. “No, sister, no…” you whispered, “that isn’t true…”

“Not true?” she interrupted, her voice cold and sharp. “So you mean to tell me you went willingly? That you abandoned the teachings of this sacred institution? That you love her?” She said the word with such disdain that it made you flinch.

Just as you were about to respond, she held up a hand.

“Choose your words carefully,” she warned, her tone grave. “I have told your parents what I believe to be the truth: that you are a victim of her depravity. A victim, mind you, who can still be saved by this Institution."

She paused. "But if you tell me now that I am mistaken — if you insist that you love her — then there will be no redemption for you here. We will have to resort to graver measures.”

"Graver measures?"

Her next words came slowly, deliberately. “I will have no choice but to send you to the cloistered nuns in La Cabrera,” she said as she stared at you. “There, within the silence of stone walls and under the rule of silence, isolation, and poverty, you may reflect on your sins and beg for your soul’s redemption. Perhaps, in time, your spirit can be salvaged.”

You tried to keep yourself together but both options felt like a trap. It was as if you were never meant for freedom, only being given a choice of what cage you would like to confine yourself in.

You shook your head as the tears continued to stream endlessly down your face. Sister Superior glared at you, utterly disgusted by what has become of you.

“You must decide now what the truth is,” she commanded, her words echoing through the suffocating room. “Admit that you were a victim — corrupted, deceived, and led astray by that lesbian — or accept your fate as we send you off to the cloistered sisters this very evening.”

A sob escaped your mouth as you fell to your knees, doubling over. The sisters behind tried to step closer to you, as if to help you up but the sister superior’s raised hand froze them in their tracks. Her eyes flicked toward them, sharp and unrelenting, giving them a silent instruction. They obeyed the unspoken command, retreating quietly. The sound of their hesitant shuffling and the click of the closing door left the room cloaked in unbearable silence, broken only by your wrenching sobs.

Sister Philomena did not speak. She did not comfort you. She waited. Her gaze bore into you, her lips pressed into a thin line as she impatiently watched you hunch over yourself on the floor. You couldn’t control yourself as you sobbed, your cries filling every corner of the room. The tension pressed down on you, suffocating, until finally, the sound of her hand slamming against the table shattered the air like a crack of thunder.

“Speak now,” she ordered, shouting out loud with a venomous voice. She had grown impatient with you. “Tell me what the truth is.”

You cried, blubbering and struggling to form words. You gasped for air as you tried to formulate a coherent sentence. Behind you, you could hear the sister’s hesitant shuffling as they entered back into the room. It was as if they wanted to step forward and console you but ultimately, no one came to comfort you.

You were put in an insanely difficult situation, forced to decide – deny the love that had changed your life, pretend it was a sin and that you were led astray, painting Alexia as some evil temptress but save yourself... or tell the truth, bare your soul, and end up locked up in some convent, significantly reducing your chances of seeing Alexia ever again.

Your thoughts were cut short by another thunderous sound of the sister’s hand on the table. “Speak.”

You tried to catch your breath and nodded, looking up to her from where you were kneeling. With a shaking voice, you said. “I was a victim.”

She nodded with a sharp look. “And what did she do to you?”

You felt your throat burn as you spoke up, trying to sound firm and honest, but ultimately failing as more tears fell from your eyes. “She corrupted me.”

The nun nodded. “And do you love her?”

Your breath caught. The question pierced through every defense you had left. Your entire body shook as you tried to find the strength to deny Alexia. “No, sister.”

She clicked her tongue. “You need to say it.”

“No, sister, I don’t lo–” your voice cracked as you tried to suppress the sobs.

You looked up and your eyes met Sister Philomena’s cold gaze, her face steady and emotionless. “Answer properly. Do you love her?”

A deep, shuddering breath as you mustered up all your energy. You met her eyes once more. “No, sister, I do not love her.”

A thick silence hung in the air, suffocating and heavy. Then Sister Philomena straightened, her voice cutting like a blade. “Good,” she said coldly, her words void of compassion. Her eyes shifted past you. “Hear that? She never loved you, Alexia. You were wrong.”

The floor seemed to drop out from under you. You spun around, your heart plummeting as you saw her. Alexia stood near the doorway with the other sisters, her shoulders hunched and her head bowed. Her hazel eyes glistened with tears as she stared at the ground, refusing to meet your gaze. Her hands were clenched into tight fists at her sides, her body trembling with the effort to hold herself together. The sisters had brought her into the room just as you denied your love.

You felt your heart pang as you heard her sniffle, trying so hard to hold back tears, and you just knew that at that moment, you broke her heart.

“Alexia,” you gasped, your voice breaking as you said. Just as you were about to reach for her and explain, Sister Ruth and Sister Jude led her out of the room as swiftly as they brought her in, holding her on either side as if she would try to escape.

“Alexia!” You shouted, ready to stand and run after her but Sister Catherine had rushed to you, holding you into a tight hug, pretending to console you just to hold you down in your spot.

As you watched the love of your life disappear before you, you fell limp into Sister Catherine’s arms, sobbing as you unraveled.

Birds have always lived with the weight of countless dangers — hunters, poachers, and predators lurking in the shadows. They lived in constant fear of arrows, weapons, and cruel men with intentions to clip their wings, to wound them and injure them so that they would never soar freely again.

For so long, you believed you were like a bird in a cage — isolated, trapped, and held back from flying. They told you the confinement was for your protection, that it shielded you from the dangers beyond the bars, that it kept you safe. You thought they kept you tethered because they feared the world would break you, because they refused to let you go.

But now, with the truth crashing over you, you understood.

They weren’t holding you back because you were a bird in confinement. They were drawing you back, tightening the strings not to restrain, but to use you. You were never the fragile bird. You were the arrow, pulled so tightly, so forcefully, meant to be launched. They held you back just to let you soar as a weapon, aimed at an innocent bird who once flew unburdened through the sky.

You were never the bird. You were never meant to be free. The only time you would ever feel the rush of the wind and get a taste of flying that high up in the sky was when you were launched, aimed to her heart. Suspended in the air together for one brief moment, before ultimately falling, never to fly again.

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀previous chapter | epilogue

a/n: it's not over yet! this part is already pretty long at roughly 22k words. the epilogue is still being polished and i wanted you guys to already get to read this part already. reply if you wanna get tagged tag: @asodovlvlvpvp @snivells @jossyswift11 @my-favorite-sign-blog @therealgbaby @wosostan1675 @ohhazdamn

#woso x reader #the bird #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso fic #alexia putellas fluff #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagines #alexia putellas smut #alexia putellas fanfic

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munsonsmixtapes · 6 months ago

Text

Whatever it Takes

Eddie x fem!reader

summary: you and Gareth form an arrangement to make Eddie jealous only for Eddie to play right into your hand

based on this request

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) unprotected sex (please don't do this) fingering, oral (f receiving) use of handcuffs, hurt/comfort, brief mention of alcohol

You knew what you were doing was wrong, but you couldn’t help it. It wasn’t your fault that Eddie wasn’t getting the very obvious hints you were offering him on a silver platter. You'd twirl one of his curls around your finger or whisper flirty things to him during campaigns, but he still wasn't getting it.

So maybe flirting with Gareth to get Eddie's attention wasn't right, but you thought it was worth it if it got the man to see that you were interested. And you would explain to Gareth later, hoping that he wouldn't have been too mad at you for what you had done.

Eddie had been crushing on you since you joined hellfire the year prior and had wanted to ask you out, but it seemed like Gareth had scooped you up before he had gotten the chance. He thought that Gareth deserved someone as amazing as you were, but that didn't mean that he wasn't jealous as hell.

He watched you walk into the party with Gareth and felt like a kind of anger that he couldn’t explain. He couldn’t blame the guy since he had no idea that Eddie was harboring an enormous crush on you, but that didn’t mean that it didn’t piss him off.

He watched the two of you giggling in the kitchen while you got your drinks and couldn’t believe that he was beginning to hate his own best friend. Before he could stop what he was doing, he downed his beer and entered the kitchen.

You were standing there, looking so hot in your low cut and tight fitting dress that Eddie was damn near close to creaming his pants. You watched him grab a bottle of whiskey from the fridge and pulled Gareth to you, laughing even louder than you normally would have just to get Eddie's attention, but the metalhead didn't seem to give a single fuck.

He grabbed the whiskey and headed back into the living with the intention of getting absolutely trashed, your laughter being mixed with Gareth's seeming to sound much louder in his ears, the giggles echoing even after he had left the kitchen. It was his own personal version of hell. Oh, he was so getting wasted.

You pulled yourself away from Gareth and made a beeline for the living room, planting yourself on the couch right next to Eddie. Your scent was more intoxicating than the alcohol. He found himself wanting to bury his face into your neck and stay there all night, occasionally pressing kisses to the skin, telling you just how much he enjoyed your company. God, he was getting pathetic.

“You gonna hog that all night, Munson? Or are you going to share?” You asked and without a second thought, Eddie passed over the bottle, your fingers brushing as he did so. Yours were warm and soft and he immediately wanted to have them intertwined with his.

Eddie watched your lips wrap around the bottle and felt his cheeks warm as he thought about what they would look like around his cock as you licked and sucked, pulling the most delicious moans from his mouth. His dick was getting hard at the thought and he was trying to figure out a way to hide it before there was a tent in his pants.

You handed the bottle back to Eddie as the whiskey went down your throat, burning all the way down to your stomach. Before he could reply, Gareth joined the two of you on the sofa, his arm snaking around your waist. Just Eddie’s fucking luck.

You snuggled into Gareth’s side and he began pressing kisses to your neck. You closed your eyes, pretending to be into it, because you just weren’t. You were just trying to play up your reaction to get Eddie to finally say something.

“Oh,” you moaned, a little too loudly and cringed at how fake it sounded.

“Yeah?” Gareth asked against your skin. “You like that?”

“So good,” you replied, opening your eyes only to find that Eddie was no longer next to you. Goddammit.

Maybe you had taken it too far. You definitely had and now you’d blown any chance you had with Eddie because you hadn’t just come out and told him how you felt. You resorted to using his best friend to get his attention and it had completely and totally backfired.

Now you supposed you deserved to have ended up alone for what you had done. You had lost the man you really liked and now you felt guilty for dragging his best friend into the mix. It was honestly just karma at that point.

You turned to Gareth with every intention of coming clean. He at the very least deserved to know the truth and a big fat apology should have gone with it. And that was just the bare minimum.

Once Gareth realized you weren’t reacting to him anymore, he pulled away, his face searching yours.

“Why aren’t you going after him?” He asked.

“What?” You asked, clearly very confused.

“Get up and go after him before it’s too late.”

“You know?”

“Of course I know. It’s kinda hard not to when you only seem to be into me when he’s around.”

“Gareth, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he waved it off. “I was kind of using you too,” he winked at someone over your shoulder and you turned around to see a brunette woman waving at him flirtatiously. “Now go after Eddie before you lose him for good.”

With that, you hopped off the couch and rushed to the door, all of the dancing and drunk bodies delaying your trip more than you cared for. You hurried out onto the porch only for Eddie’s van to have disappeared.

You rushed to your car and sped off to his trailer, hoping that he would want to speak to you. You could just imagine him pulling you into his arms and pressing a passionate kiss to your lips, telling you that he wasn’t actually upset with you and everything would be perfect.

You pulled up to the trailer just in time to see Eddie getting out of his van. He looked absolutely pissed and now you were panicking that he wasn’t going to talk to you. Maybe you’d have to amp up for you flirting just to get his attention.

He got up the front steps of his trailer and waited for you to come forward, his curiosity getting the best of him. He wanted to know why you were there at his trailer instead of the party. Maybe he had just forgotten something and you were giving it back. It had happened many times before so he wasn’t going to completely rule it out.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Let’s do it inside. It’s too hot out here.” He opened the door for you and you entered it while Eddie let it slam closed behind him. The place was in its usual disarray, but you thought that was part of its charm. You liked that it looked lived it and in fact, the mess made it feel even more cozy.

“So what do you need to say? And make it quick because I’m not in the best mood tonight.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“You can tell me if you want to.”

“I said it’s nothing.” His tone was louder, more harsh and you could see that he immediately regretted speaking to you like that. “Shit, I’m sorry, y/n.”

He turned to face the wall, rubbing his hands over his face. The whole thing was driving him crazy and now he was taking it out on you.

“Eddie, what’s going on with you? What’s wrong?”

“You!” He replied, whipping around to face you. Your eyes widened. Maybe your karma was finally catching up to you.

“Me?”

“Yes, you!” He stepped closer and you could see him balling his fists in anger. Something had really set him off.

“What the hell did I do?”

“I don’t know, do you want a fucking list?”

“Please!”

“Well, for starters, you can’t be wearing stuff like that?” He referred to your outfit.

“I’m sorry, I don’t remember asking for your opinion.” You crossed your arms over your chest, glaring at him.

“It’s distracting. I can’t focus on anything else when you look so fucking hot.” That was not at all what you were expecting him to say.

“Eddie-”

“I’m not finished,” he cut you off, holding his hand up to tell you to stop speaking. “I-I thought you liked me and then you ended up with Gareth out of nowhere.” It seemed out of nowhere to Eddie and you supposed that it was considering that you came up with the idea suddenly after one of the hellfire meetings

“I’m not with Gareth.” That was news to Eddie and he almost didn't believe you, but the look on your face signified that you were telling the truth.

“What-”

“We were using each other.” Eddie stared at you, still not quite understanding what was going on.

“I’m confused. Why did you do all that just to make me jealous? Why didn’t you ask me out?”

“I did ask you out, Eddie,” you laughed. “Three times.”

"No you didn't," he shook his head as he felt anger rising again. Sure, he wasn't the greatest as seeing the signs when someone liked him, but he was hoping that he was able to tell when someone was asking him out. But clearly he wasn't

"Yes I did." When? He wanted exact moments.

"When?"

"Months ago. I asked you to get coffee after Hellfire and you said that caffeine kept you up so I took that as rejection. But then you flirted with me at the next meeting so I asked if you wanted to see a movie and you flat out said no. The third time, I literally invited you to come with me to Enzo's just so there wouldn't be any confusion about my feeling for you and you still said no."

"I-you were asking me out all of those times? God, I had no idea. And the only reason why I said no was because you make me nervous. You're beautiful and smart and-"

"Eddie?"

"Yeah?"

"Will you please shut the fuck up?" You cradled his face in your hands and pressed your lips to his in a messy, rushed kiss. He quickly responded and moved his lips with yours, his hands moving to your waist.

You swiped your tongue along his bottom lip as you backed him towards his room. The door opened and it slammed against the wall as the two of went inside, your lips still on Eddie's. He was hungry for more, ready to absolutely devour you if you'd let him.

You both took off your shoes and Eddie pushed you against the wall, his hand sliding up your thigh as your tongues swirled around each other. His moved up your dress, slowly making its way to your cunt. Your thong was soaking wet with your slick and he cupped your cunt, his fingers lightly grazing over it. You gasped as the feeling and he broke away from you, smiling down at you devilishly.

"Yeah?" He asked. "You like that?" His hand slipped down into your thong and he shoved his fingers up your cunt, causing you to let out a loud moan. He pumped his fingers in and out quickly, your slick covering his fingers and he was looking forward to licking them clean, just knowing that you tasted heavenly.

You leaned your head back as you let out another moan and Eddie grabbed hold of your face, forcing you to look him in the eye. He wanted to see your whole face as he watched you come undone. If you looked like that and were making those noises just from his fingers, he wondered what it would be like when he fucked you until you screamed his name until your throat was raw.

"Eyes on me, okay?" He asked. "God, you look so hot. Bet you look even hotter on my cock."

"Wanna find out?" You asked in between breaths and Eddie was quick to remove his fingers. You watched him slowly lift his fingers to his mouth and he gave them a loud, slow suck. His eyes never left yours as he licked them clean, moaning dramatically as he did so.

"Taste so good. Fuck," he whined as he finished up. He pressed a kiss to your lips and his hands moved to your back, his fingers fiddling with your zipper before he slowly slid it down your back as he lips moved down to your neck. "You have no idea how long I've been dreaming about this," he mumbled against your skin. "Like literally dreaming."

"Were they wet?" You asked as Eddie stepped away so your dress could fall to the floor.

"Of course they were," he said as he felt drool pooling in his mouth as he looked down at your very see through bra. "Fuck," he groaned. "Think I'm gonna cream my pants."

"Yeah?" You asked, grabbing hold of his hands and bringing them up to your chest. "Feel them." He put a hand over each tit and gave them a squeeze before pressing his lips to yours again.

You pulled him over to the bed and pulled off his shirt before pushing him down onto the mattress. Your eyes looked over all of his tattoos and you admired them, wanting him to tell you what they all meant.

Eddie pulled you down with him and you collapsed on top of him, your lips connecting to his once again. Your tongue took no time to slide into his mouth and let out a moan as they swirled together, scraping against each other.

"God, sweetheart, really want me to cum in my pants, huh?" He asked against your lips and you just smiled.

"How'd you know?" You asked. "Wanna ride you so bad."

"Do it. Need to get inside you." You slid off of him and un buckled his pants before unbuttoning them, sliding his boxers down to his ankles as his dick sprung free. It was one of the largest you had ever seen and it was so so hard. Precum was dripping from it and now you were wondering if you could take it. You were more than willing to take the chance.

“I-don’t have any more condoms.”

“I’m on birth control, it’s fine.”

“As long as you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

You slid off your thong and left it on top of Eddie's jeans before climbing on top of him, settling yourself on top of his cock. You both moaned as he entered you and even though you had fucked multiple guys, you could already tell that Eddie would be your best.

You bucked your hips towards his, watching his every move as his moved to your tits, watching them bounce as you rode him, your bra not doing much to keep them from moving. You placed your hands on his shoulders as you moved, trying to figure out what he liked and what he didn't. You wanted him to feel good.

You continued to ride him a little faster and you watched him come undone beneath you, his big brown eyes shining bright, glazed over in absolute lust he stared up at you, watching your every move.

“So fucking good,” he moaned. “You really know what you’re doing, don’t you sweetheart?”

“I know a thing or two,” you replied. “And you’re eating it up, aren’t you?”

“I am. Could do this all night, I swear. You look so fucking hot on top of me.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Munson.”

He was saying all the right things, almost as if he knew exactly what you wanted to hear. And he probably did. He was really good at that sort of thing. He just wanted you to know exactly what he was thinking since he wasn’t very good at keeping his thoughts to himself.

You hadn’t been going for very long, but Eddie was sure that he was close. He could feel his vision clouding over and that was always an indicator. Hopefully you wouldn’t mind that he was going to finish so fast.

He let out his loudest moan and you smiled down at him, knowing that the way he looked when he came would be burned into your brain forever. And you didn’t mind a single bit. The faces that he was pulling were so fucking hot and the way the sweat ran down his forehead was enough to make you cum yourself.

You leaned down and pressed a kiss to his lips then pulled away before he was ready, moving his sweaty bangs away from his forehead. You then climbed off of him, spotting the pair of fuzzy handcuffs that were hanging on his wall and suddenly got an idea.

You made your way over the them and grabbed hold of them, holding them out to Eddie. He sat up, looking at with a curious look.

“Hand cuff me,” you told him, putting the cuffs in his hands. Eddie had used them multiple times, but never in a million years did he think he would use them on you. “Put these on me and eat me out. Want your mouth on my cunt so fucking bad.”

“You really are saying all the right things, huh?”

You sat in his desk chair and spread your legs wide to show him just how wet you were and he stood up, kneeling in front of you so he could get a good look. He brought his hands up to rest on your knees and looked down at your sopping wet cunt, letting out a loud, dramatic whistle.

“Damn, sugar,” he whistled, seeing just how much of your slick and his own cum was leaking out of you. “Bet you taste so good.” He stood up and turned the chair around, bringing your arms to the back of the chair and he put them on you, clicking them into place before turning you back around to face him.

“God, this is everything I’ve dreamed of, swear to god.” He took your legs and draped them over his shoulder before diving in, causing you to let out a gasp as his nose brushed your cunt. He took no time to lick and suck, causing you to mewl, and Eddie pulled you down lower to have more access as he grazed the sensitive spot with his teeth.

“Oh my god, Eddie, so fucking good,” you whined. “Shit.”

You could already feel yourself blacking out, but you weren’t going to give up just yet. Not when the main event was yet to come. Just when your vision was going hazy, Eddie shoved his tongue inside of you, causing you to moan even louder and you felt yourself reach your orgasm as you screamed his name, but Eddie wasn’t done just yet.

He swirled his tongue around and around and tried to lick up every last bit of your sick, not being about to get enough of the way you tasted. And the way he was able to make you cum so easily made him feel so hard. He could have eaten you out for hours and never get tired of it.

He removed his face from you and grabbed you by your face roughly, pressing his lips to yours briefly before pulling away, a devilish smirk on his face.

“Such a good little slut, aren’t you?” He asked and you nodded, unsure of why you were so turned on by him calling you that.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “But I’m your slut, right?”

“Right, sweetheart,” he replied, pressing another kiss to your lips. “Mine.” And you supposed that being Eddie’s was probably the only thing you ever wanted to be in your life and that was perfectly fine with you.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff

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mountainsandmayhem · 12 days ago

Text

BDSMaid - Chapter 7

Series Summary: After recently graduating you take what is supposed to be a job to save money before you go back to university to get your law degree. Your best friend offers you a job cleaning luxury homes for clients you’ll never know. Easy. Simple. Mundane. Until one of your clients is home and everything you felt was missing in your life starts to fall into place. This goes against the NDA you signed and you could get fired. Or worse, you could fall in love.

CW: 18+ MDNI. In order to avoid spoilers, all tags are under the cut in small red lettering. Reader does have some body descriptions so more of an oc than female reader.

AN: I am not the least bit sorry for the ending 😉

Word Count: 8k

Series Masterlist | My Masterlist | AO3

TW: open door smut scenes, unprotected P in V. Cream pie. Squirting. Use of nipple clamps. Oral (female receiving). Fingering (anal and vaginal). Ass play. Use of nicknames (good girl, sweet girl). Pussy and dick pronouns. Joel having a filthy mouth.

You

Holy shit, I just fucked Joel Miller.

The thought rattles around your brain over and over, as if the more you say the more real it will feel, but you’re still floating, still up in the clouds even though you’re firmly tucked against Joel's side. Your head rests in his chest, rising and falling with the quick rhythm of this breathing. Your eyes flick down to his beautiful cock; it’s standing straight up, ready whenever you are, as you both try to slow your heartbeats and breathing. You nestle your body tighter to the warm, solid wall of a man beside you, wrapping a leg around his. He slides his fingers up and down your spine. As you lay in silence your mind races.

“Just call me Joel”.

There are almost too many things bouncing around your head, making it hard to focus on only one. Does he love me? When I tell him what I've decided with college, will he think I’m staying in Austin because of this? Aren’t I staying in Austin because of this? How else do I explain it? What about my friends? I don’t want to keep this a secret anymore; is this worth losing my job over? What if this is all part of his plan? Sleep with me and then use it as a reason to end our dom/sub relationship? Is this even a dom/sub relationship anymore?

Anxiety and worry start to buzz through your veins. The sight of soft belly and rock hard cock blurs. You slam your eyes shut, the unknown starting to overwhelm you. Sucking in a big breath, you try to break the vice grip that’s starting to tighten around on your lungs and throat.

“Are you ok?” Joel says softly.

“Ya,” you nod as his free hand that's been tucked under his head comes to your chin and tilts it up. The moment you’re engulfed by his soft chocolate brown eyes, your brain stops. Quiet washes over you. You’re safe here, you’ve always been safe here. Rolling over, you perch yourself on his leg and hip, chin resting on the tops of your hands as they lay on his chest. You can feel his heart beating strong and steady under your hands. That’s what you need: consistent stability. No, not need, deserve.

Joel removes the golden clip from your hair. “Freckles, I probably should have said this before, but this isn’t what I normally do with my subs, and I’m…”

His eyes dance around yours as he pauses. You can see a million emotions happening at once, all of them mirrored in yours. Fear. Happiness. Confusion. Anxiety. Vulnerability. But mostly, love. You finish the sentence for him.

“I’m pretty sure we aren’t just a dom and a sub, Joel. I don’t know if we ever have been.”

I love you.

With that, he pulls himself up, stuffing some pillows so he can lean comfortably against the headboard. You follow, and he guides you to straddle his lap, his cock pressed between your bodies. The air between you feels thick with emotion. Both of you look at the other, your shallow breaths in sync before both of you snap and dive in. The kiss is hungry and desperate. There’s probably a million things you both could say, but in this moment, the kiss is enough.

“I’m never going to get enough of you,” he moans as your lips trail his jawline.

“Good,” you hum, sliding your hips up to drag your pussy along his length. You’ve slept with a handful of men before Joel, but it’s never been this passionate with anyone else. You just had each other, yet here you both are, acting like it’s been years since you’ve touched. His head falls back, a sigh passing his parted lips as you kiss down his neck.

“Fuck that feels good, sweet girl.” His hands tighten along your hips. Joel is always so concerned with your pleasure and needs, so for now, or for as long as he’ll let you, you spend time focusing on him. You kiss every inch of him that you can reach: his neck and shoulders, his collarbone and ear lobes, all while softly grinding against his cock. Every moan and gasp from his lips has you growing wetter.

You drag your slippery pussy up his cock, both of you completely coated in your arousal. Joel lifts you to hover above his cock. “Need to feel you wrapped around me again. Please, sweet girl.”

You capture the sound of him begging with your lips, snake a hand in between your bodies, and guide the tip of his bare cock inside of yourself. You shudder and whimper at the delicious stretch of him. “Oh god.”

“This pussy,” he coos, and the sound of his weakness at the feel of you has the muscles behind your navel tightening. Your lips find his again as you slowly work yourself down his cock. “That’s my girl, nice and slow.”

You rock and grind, sliding him in further, your body writhing as you take inch by tortuous inch. As your hips finally come into contact with his, you still your movements and relax into the feeling of him at this new angle. Joel is definitely big, not in a scary romance novel kind of way, but bigger and thicker than you’ve been with. “Joel,” you mew, the vowels of his name lasting longer than they should and you tuck your head into his neck.

“It’s all you, baby girl. Just sit on him if you need to, fuck.” He kisses your shoulder, hands moving to the globes of your ass. “Tell me how it feels.”

“F-full,” you whine into his skin.

“What else, my sweet girl?”

“You’re so big, J-Joel. I can feel you everywhere. I - I need, oh my god.” You grind your hips forward slightly, the cool metal of his piercing sending a shockwave through your clit and up your spine. “More. I need more.”

“Just take it, baby. I’m yours.” He rasps between kisses along your shoulder and neck.

You pull back, your face mere inches from him. He’s everywhere all at once and the painful stretch of your cunt around his cock starts to become an intense burning pleasure with each flick of your hips.

“Suck on my nipples,” you gasp, leaning back slightly. The shiny silver ring in his pelvis presses harder against your clit, and now, not only are you madly in love with Joel Miller, you’re also so fucking addicted that not even a twelve step program could fix you.

He obeys your wishes, sucking your right nipple into his warm mouth roughly and swirling his tongue as your hips grind back and forth once, twice, three times. He moans against your skin, moving his hands up your body to cup both your breasts. “Harder, please Joel, harder.”

Your movements become less fluid; your clit aches with every brush against his piercing. The muscles behind your navel start to feel like they’re going to snap. He moves to the other nipple, meeting it with his teeth, but it’s still not enough.

“Harder,” you beg.

“Do you need clamps, baby?” Of course this man would know what you need; he’s never not known what you need.

“Yes, god yes. I need more.”

“Can you reach the top drawer of the nightstand?” You nod, then push his sweaty curls away from his forehead. He raises an eyebrow and you reach into the drawer, pulling out a small set of gold nipple clamps. “Good girl. Now, can you reach my hat at the end of the bed?”

You press your lips into a thin line to stop your smile and nod excitedly. He winks and you turn your upper body the other way and stretch to reach his hat. As soon as you place it on his head you feel the sharp pressure of the clamp on your left nipple. The pain heightens the feeling of him inside of you and a high pitched whine leaves your throat.

“Fuck, please, Joel. Please.”

As he places the second clamp he says, “You don’t even know what you’re begging for, do you?”

A mix between a whimper and a whine passes your lips in response and your lashes flutter shut. “That’s what I thought. Just as long as I keep myself deep in this tight little pussy, you’ll be happy. Won’t you?”

The second clamp evens out the pain and sends a wave of adrenaline through your system. You pick up the speed of your hips. His piercing bumps against your clit, the pleasure coursing through your veins mixed with the burning pinch on your nipples is almost all the ingredients you need to fall over the edge.

“You’re doing so well for me, sweet girl. Wish you could see how good you look right now.” Joel moves his hands back to your ass, pulling you forward in time with the pace you’ve set.

“I love - Joel, oh my god.” You want to tell him how much you love the feeling of him inside of you, how much you love the words he says and the praise he gives, but you aren’t capable of forming sentences with the way his piercing teases at your clit. All you can do is let your forehead fall to his shoulder, your eyes squeezing tighter.

“Love what, huh?” He whispers deeply into your ear. “The feeling of my bare cock so deep inside of you that you can feel it in your stomach? Or the way my piercing feels against your swollen clit? Or maybe you love the pain of the clamps on your nipples as you ride me? Huh? Is that what you love, baby?” You make a gasping whining sound of agreement.

“Look at me,” he adds. It takes all of your strength to sit back up and open your eyes. When he comes into focus you’re overcome with desire. He’s so much more than you could ever imagine in his new black cowboy hat, pupils blown wide with passion, and cheeks flushed a light pink. “Good girl, keep your eyes on me. I want to see it in your eyes when you come on my cock.”

Your hips slow, but you push your clit harder against his pelvis, and you blurt the first thought you have. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Joel.”

A smile tug of his cheek reveals the boyish dimple you love so much. You slide your hands from his shoulders to the short hair at the nape of his neck. You’re close, so very close. “Come with me, I’m so close,” you whimper.

“I know, Freckles. Fuck, I can feel it.” He doesn’t take his eyes off yours, but the flex of his jaw tells you he’s holding back for you. “Squeezin’ me so tight. Fuck, can feel her fluttering, listen to how wet you are.”

You reach back and grab his wrist, squeezing it gently, “Spank me.”

“Christ, sweet girl.”

You release his wrist, and without looking away he spanks you hard and you are launched into your orgasm. His face lights up with admiration as you chant a mixture of his name and ‘oh god’. You grind frantically into his piercing, your clit practically vibrating at the attention.

“That’s it baby. Good, fuck, I’m gonna, good girl. Don’t stop, fuck, don’t stop.” He slaps your ass again and that same familiar pooling of liquid starts to build.

“More,” you cry and he spanks you again.

You feel the gush of your cum, and Joel takes over as you’re consumed by pleasure. His strong hands grip your hips, moving you at a slower pace. “There she goes, such a messy little pussy.”

You peel your eyes away from him, looking down at the way his piercing presses against your clit when your bodies meet. “Fill me,” you moan.

“Fuck - oh fuck, sweet girl.” Your orgasm starts to fade and you tug at the hair you can reach.

“Fill me, Joel. I want to feel you leaking out of me for days.” You aren’t sure where this version of yourself has come from. Just weeks ago you wandered around JMKink all wide-eyed and nervous, and now you’re saying words that you never thought you could.

Joel lets out a mix between a growl and a moan and you feel his cock harden before it jerks inside of you, hot ropes of his cum filling you like you asked. He moans your name, stilling your hips in his hands as his orgasm washes over him. “God, you feel so good.”

The two of you gasp for breath, your head falls back and you close your eyes, trying to slow your heart beat. Joel removes the nipple clamps and you cry out just as he places light kisses along them. “Ouch,” you whimper.

“I know,” he says, moving to kiss the other one. “Taking them off is the worst part. I��m sorry, sweet girl.”

When he pulls back to look at you again your body goes limp and you fall into his chest, head tucked into the crook of his neck. “Need a minute,” you murmur.

He pulls the blanket from the other side of the bed and wraps it around the two of you. “Good, because I’m not ready to let you go yet.” His lips caress your hairline softly, one hand on your back under the blanket, the other playing with your hair.

I love you.

After a few moments of blissfully content silence you wince at the pinch in your hip. “I gotta get up, I’m sorry.”

He laughs gently into your hair, and pulls back the blanket before helping you slide off his softened cock. You both look at the mess you’ve made on his lap and you let out a mischievous giggle.

“Don’t even think about it, Freckles. I need nourishment before you take advantage of me again.” He says jokingly.

“Well, I guess this is what I get for fucking around with an old man,” you laugh, flopping down on the bed beside him.

Joel moves quickly, slipping two thick fingers inside of you easily and you squirm at the feeling. You suck in a huge breath, like you’re about to swim to the bottom of a deep pool. Tears start to burn behind your eyes as overstimulation makes it almost impossible to breathe, nevermind being able to tell him to stop.

His voice is a gravel filled growl, “That right, little girl? Because from what I can tell, you’re about to beg me to stop, so be careful who you call old.”

Heat flushes your skin, pleasure building, yet when your tired pussy flutters around his strong digits a loud, pained cry fills the room. You’re not willing to admit defeat as you force your lungs to suck in a breath.

“I’m not.”

“No?” He pumps his fingers harder against your sensitive g-spot. “Don’t wanna use that safe word?”

Can’t. Fuck, I might actually die if I come again again. You never imagined yourself debating if you wanted another orgasm. A cold sweat coats your lower back as you arch off the bed, a sob leaving your throat.

“How’s that feel? Wanna come again?”

You shake your head and moan in disagreement.

“You sure? She wants to, I can feel it.” He pumps his fingers forward again.

“M-mister Miller. No.” As you swallow down the scream that’s inching its way up from your lungs he watches your throat like a starved wolf.

“Safeword,” he commands.

“Steg-“ you don’t even say the full word and he’s slipping his fingers out of you with a lewd squelching sound. “Thank you.”

“Are you okay?” He says softly, his dom mask gone as his eyebrows knit in concern.

“Yes,” you say with a quiet laugh. “I was close to coming again, but….”

He gives you a thigh lipped smile, “Sore?”

You nod as he continues, “Food, then shower, then we can come back here,” he says deeply before he slips his two fingers in his mouth, cleaning off the mixture of the two of you.

I fucking love you, Joel Miller.

Joel

The small crack of light in the curtains wakes him. His alarm clock shows 7:18 am; he can’t remember the last time he slept past six am, but he also can’t remember the last time he stayed up until two in the morning. He rolls slowly, careful not to disturb you in the cocoon of blankets you’ve created in the night. The top of your head and one foot is the only thing visible, your slow, quiet breathing filling the room.

So fucking cute.

He pulls on a pair of black pajama pants and adjusts the curtains to keep the room dark before slipping downstairs. The morning sun reflects off the gold in the marble, basking his kitchen in warm fire light. His eyes glance around the kitchen, a dirty frying pan sits in the sink from the grilled cheese sandwiches he made you both last night, the kitchen stool still pulled out from where you sat. A smile pulls at his cheeks, his cock stirring as he remembers the rest of the evening.

The two of you ate your sandwiches; all you had on was one of his t-shirts, and he was wearing the pants he’s in now. After you both finished eating, he grunted as he came over to help you off the stool. You made another joke about him being old. Slipping in and out of dom mode is almost too easy around you. Without missing a beat, he made you clean the cum that had leaked out of you off the stool with your tongue, then spanked you until more cum dripped down your legs and onto the floor. He didn’t even have to tell you what to do, all he did was glance at the floor then at you with a raised brow. His sweet girl got down on her hands and knees and cleaned up. He praised you the entire time and then took you upstairs to shower; not that it did much good, because he fucked you from behind the moment the two of you got back into his bed. Joel hasn’t fucked someone back-to-back like that in years, but you have him feeling like he’s in his twenties again.

He pulls the jar of imported coffee beans from the cupboard and grinds them, reflecting upon how easy it was to just sit with you. As you ate, you both laughed and joked about whatever came to mind. He made fun of you for asking for ketchup to dip your sandwich in, then you poked fun back by eating the sandwich with one pinky up once you realized it wasn’t just processed bread and cheese.

As he tamps the freshly ground beans into the basket he realizes just how lonely he has been. He’s always been surrounded by people and enjoyed coming home to his quiet solitude of a house, but now? He smiles sadly to himself. This is really going to hurt.

He places the basket in the machine and as it brews he gets your beans in the grinder and then grabs the milk to steam and froth. He adds the milk to his cup and then starts on yours just as he hears a very soft ‘Good Morning’ from behind him.

He looks over his shoulder as you wrap your arms around his middle, placing a kiss on his bare spine. It shoots right to his heart and he holds it there, desperate to keep this love he’s feeling, love he knows is on a timeline.

“Good morning, sweet girl. Coffee?”

“Mmm, yes please.”

He rubs at your arms around his stomach. “How does bacon and eggs sound?”

The soft warmth of your cheek rests on his back as he steams your milk, your espresso almost done. “You actually use the kitchen?”

“Used it last night, didn’t I?”

“Yea,” you reply, “but I’ve never seen you have actual food in your fridge. Cleaning it is always on your list, but aside from milk there’s never been anything in it.”

“That’s not entirely true,” he says.

“You’re right, once there was just a single long stemmed red rose.” The rose he got you for your birthday.

“So you’re saying you don’t want surprise long stemmed roses?”

You gasp dramatically behind him and then wiggle under his arm. He laughs, adjusting his grip on the milk and coffee cup to pour the milk just right, creating a heart on the top of your latte and then holding it in front of you. He watches the little smile that curves your lips. “Thank you, Joel.”

He kisses your forehead before you both part. His eyes trail from your face, down your body that’s draped in one of his black t-shirts brushing the top of your bare thighs. “Breakfast?”

You nod, wrapping both your hands around your coffee cup and inhaling. “What can I do to help?”

“Nothing. Get that cute little ass on one of those stools,” he spins you and pats at your butt gently, a giggle escaping your throat as you wander around the island to sit.

Joel gathers what he needs for breakfast, and after a few heartbeats you break the silence. “Can I ask you a question?”

He glances over at you, “We’ve been through this. You don’t need to ask permission, just ask.”

“Well, it’s about the hat.”

“Ah,” he says softly, starting one of the gas burners to heat the cast iron pan for the bacon. “You can ask anything you’d like, baby.”

“I just wasn’t expecting that sort of reaction.”

“That’s not a question,” he says jokingly.

You let out an amused sound that’s part giggle, part snort. “What’s the history behind the black cowboy hat?”

He clears his throat, moving around the kitchen the entire time he speaks. “I grew up on a small ranch outside of Austin. My grandparents’ ranch. Me and Tommy lived there with our mom. My grandma gave us both our first cowboy hats; mine was a black Stetson with a black satin liner. I wore that hat all the time. It brought me comfort for whatever reason, or maybe it was confidence in those awkward adolescent years. Whatever it was, it sort of became a part of who I was as a teenager. One night, in my senior year, after winning our baseball state championship I went to a party, with my hat on, of course…that’s, umm, that’s where I met her.”

He watches you take a sip of your coffee, eyes soft. “Tiffany, my…my wife. That’s where I met her. My grandpa always said that I’d feel a tug, like a pull behind my belly button, and it did. When I went to talk to her she took my hat and put it on her head and…I just knew. That hat, well, I wore it for her from then on.”

“Where’s the hat now?” You say, looking shyly up at him.

He turns back the stove, swallowing the dry lump in his throat and flips the bacon before cracking the eggs in the second pan. His voice is low. “When she passed away it just felt right to send the hat with her. I couldn’t let her go alone.”

The eggs sizzle as he flips them. “How old were you when that happened?”

“Young,” he says, then looks back over at you. “About twenty three or twenty four.”

He scoops two eggs and a few pieces of bacon on each plate and then walks around to the stool beside you. “I’m sorry that happened, Joel.”

He places a light kiss on your forehead, sliding the plate in front of you. “Me too, baby. Thank you.”

Joel sits on the stool next to yours but that still isn’t close enough for him. He grabs the leg of your stool and pulls you tight to his side. The moment your shoulder makes contact with his arm he feels more at ease. Talking about Tiffany isn’t so painful anymore.

“So it’s just been you and your daughter since then? You didn’t want to remarry?” He watched the way your lips purse to blow on your fork full of eggs before he answers.

“I wasn’t opposed to remarrying. Sarah used to try to set me up with her friends' moms when she was kid. But, I never felt that pull like I did with Tiff. I focused all of my time on Sarah and building my construction firm.“

It feels almost too comfortable to talk to you as he continues between bites. “I just kept waiting for that pull again. Then my career took off; I went from building homes to mansions, and then eventually apartment complexes. I didn’t have time to even look for a partner.”

“Is that when you got into BDSM?” You ask, nibbling on your bacon.

“Ya, I met Cap…”

“Cap?” You interrupt, looking at him with wide eyes. “Like the sweet man with the grey hair and kind blue eyes who drives me around?”

“Yes, same Cap. He taught me almost everything about being a Dom.”

You shake your head in disbelief. “He’s so soft and kind.”

“Am I not soft and kind?” He says, placing a hand on his chest. You press a kiss to his cheek and he raises an eyebrow at you. “As I was saying, I met Cap through one of the trades we hired to run cable through a large apartment building. Spent a lot of hours with him and he eventually brought up how being a dom might be a good option for me and wouldn’t risk Sarah getting hurt through a break up.”

“Sarah is older than me, isn’t she?” You put your fork down and look up at him with concern.

He nods, “She is. Not by much, but she is. However, I recently learned that I was the campus DILF while she was in university.”

You snort a laugh beside him.

“She just wants me to be happy. I don’t know what I did right with that kid. She’s a doctor and just got accepted to a surgery fellowship in New York.”

As he finishes his last few bites, your soft, warm palm traces up and down his bare back slowly. “I’m sure you were, or are, an amazing dad.”

He smiles over at you as reality slams into him. You’re younger than his daughter. You’re going to want things that he’s already done and is too old to do again. And quite frankly, he doesn’t want to do it again. Biologically he cannot have any more kids, and he’s not looking to adopt. He’s done that part of his life.

One of his hands wraps around the back of your neck and his mind races as he lowers his face to yours. He’s sure you’re going to go to Berkeley, which will break his heart, but also means he can keep that pesky little secret he’s been keeping from you hidden. You finding out about that will ruin him.

You

Something shifts in Joel’s eyes before he kisses you, his tongue swiping against your lips, asking to let him in. You tilt your head, deepening the kiss, as the urge to show him just how much you need him takes over. You spin your body towards him, kissing him back at the pace he’s set. You could sit like this for hours, your lips fused to his, his tongue flicking sweetly against yours. Your hands roam along the muscle-lined skin of his arms, pressing your lips happily to his without any plans to break the kiss first.

After a few minutes, Joel pulls back, cupping your chin, his thumb caressing your bottom lip. “Speaking of university,” he prompts.

You take a slow deep breath in through your nose, trying to keep your face a neutral mask as all of your thoughts around school and Joel scream in your mind. He squeezes your hand reassuringly, “Come with me.”

As he leads you towards the stairs to the basement you say, “We should clean up.”

“Nah,” he starts leading you down the stairs, his voice light, “I have a cleaner coming this week.”

You jokingly hit his shoulder with a laugh as he walks down the stairs in front of you. The two of you settle into the plush couch. You cozy up into the corner of the sectional, him beside you. He pulls your feet onto his lap and then flips a blanket from the back of the couch over you.

“It’s gonna be Berkeley, right?” Joel’s voice is excited and curious, not disappointed. For a second you think he might not care in the way you think he does, until your eyes meet his. His eyes tell a whole damn story right now, more honey flecks than onyx shine your direction. They seem sad almost, or longing.

“Maybe. That was sort of my dream school but I don’t know anymore.”

His thumbs press into the arches of your feet and after wearing those ridiculous heels last night it feels delicious. “Your phone screen, which, by the way, I’m getting you a new phone. That screen is a hazard, and don’t bother arguing with me. But your Lock Screen is the beach.”

“I know,” you look down at your hands, picking at the pearly white polish.

“I want you to follow your dreams, sweet girl.”

“But that’s the thing, Joel. Becoming a lawyer is the dream. Either way, I will graduate as a lawyer, so…” The words die on your tongue and hang heavy between the two of you.

“Don’t pick based on me.” He says softly.

You scoff, immediately annoyed by his ego. Is that really what he thinks of you? That some man would come along and change everything you had planned. Didn’t he though?

You pull your feet from his lap, bending your knees up as if you’re building a wall between the two of you. “I’m not. I’m a grown woman who can, and does, make decisions for herself.”

“So then what’s the reason for giving up what was always your dream school for a law school here?”

You feel sick to your stomach. His singing last night, that wasn’t a proclamation of love to you. He was just singing a song that he knows and you almost changed your entire life’s trajectory for him.

No, you remind yourself, these are valid points. Joel or not, it makes sense to stay.

It doesn’t matter how you justify it to yourself in your mind, the annoyance that anyone would think you’d make a decision this huge for anyone but yourself doesn’t ease. You didn’t even consider your parents when you left for university, so why would he think you’d consider him when you’ve only known him a few weeks?

You try to keep the edge of frustration out of your voice as you respond. “It’s cheaper, for one. I also have a job that I could do once or twice a week if I stay here. I have a chosen family of friends who support and love me. There’s lots of reasons. And at the end of it all, I come out with a law degree.”

“Sweetheart,” he says softly, his fingers toying with the hem of the blanket. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like you had to defend yourself or your decisions.”

“You assumed I’d choose my future based on you.” You say, and it comes out a lot angrier than you intend. You rush an apology, “Sorry, I didn’t mean for that to sound so harsh.”

“You don’t have to be sorry,” his voice stays soft as he moves to rub the top of your foot under the blanket. You let him pull it back onto his lap, shortly followed by the other foot. “You’re making a big decision and I could see you working through your thoughts in the car last night. I just don’t want you to think you have to figure this out on your own. I’m here for you. I’m sorry, sweet girl. I was trying to let you know I’m here. I should have worded that differently to begin with.”

“Sorry,” you murmur, looking back down at your hands. You feel about two feet tall all of a sudden.

“Hey,” he squeezes at your calves and you look back up at him. “You have nothing to be sorry for. C’mere.”

You slide across the couch and he pulls you close, draping your legs over his and wrapping you in his arms. “I know Berkeley is more expensive, but you’d have more opportunities there, wouldn’t you?”

You shrug and lean into his touch. “Maybe, but I’d finish top of the class here, I don’t know where I’ll fit there. Plus, my friends. It’s weird, I’ve never been scared to leave somewhere before; not even when I was freshly eighteen and left my parents, but now I am.”

His strong hands rub along skin, desire beginning to flicker at your core. It’s only further ignited when he speaks again.

“Those are all very valid reasons and fears, sweet girl. We all feel that way about big change. Your friends will always be there for you, regardless of what state you decide to go to school in. I’ve only known you for a short time, and I can see how much this means to you. They’ve known you a lot longer, I can only imagine how proud of you they must be. You’re an amazing person and an incredibly hard worker. If anyone can do this, it’s you.”

“I’ll be in debt forever,” you say with a sigh, leaning back so you can see his face.

“You don’t have to be…”

“No, I’ll accept the phone, albeit begrudgingly, but I will not accept that.”

“We’ll see about that,” he says with a wink and a laugh as you roll your eyes.

Joel

The rest of the morning was spent laughing and talking. He asked about your first kiss, your favourite song, what you were most proud of so far. He filed away every single answer.

As the two of you cleaned up from breakfast he said, “So you never saw yourself having kids?”

“No. I saw myself fighting for others. I think based on my past that I’d be a great mother, just do the opposite of what my parents did, but that never interested me.”

His fears from earlier started to ease knowing that you didn’t want kids, and your views on marriage were so mature compared to what he usually heard.

He oiled the cast iron as you spoke. “I just need a partner. Someone who is on my side. I’ve been alone almost my entire life, and I can be happy alone. It’s not the company I need - it’s the support. Someone who can shut the world off. You know?”

He knew the moment he saw you that he could turn you into the perfect little submissive, his perfect submissive.

“Sounds like you need a partner who knows how to be a Dom,” he says with a wink, eyes roaming over your body in just that thin black t-shirt he gave you. He sees the switch in your eyes, desire blows your pupils wide, darkening your usually sparkling orbs. “Does my sweet girl need something?”

He watches your thighs squeeze together as you stand beside him. You hum a yes and nod your head.

“Are you sore?”

“Yes, Mister Miller. But I still need it.”

He leans in closely, tracking the shiver that runs up your body as his lips ghost along the shell of your ear. In a deep whispered command he says, “Give me that shirt, and then go wait upstairs for me.”

He pulls back and watches as your arms cross in front of your body and grab the hem of the soft cotton shirt. Time slows as you reveal your naked body to him, his heart catching in his throat along with his breath. So utterly perfect.

“Good girl,” he hums, extending his hand for the shirt. “Upstairs, on your hands and knees at the foot of the bed.”

He watches you the entire way up the stairs. You only glance over your shoulder once, and he knows the wink he sends you is the reassurance you need. Granted, the little smile and the slight skip in your step afterwards were a dead giveaway that you’re excited for whatever he has planned.

He waits in the kitchen, forcing himself to keep his eye on the digital clock of the microwave. Three minutes, he tells himself. His dick has other plans, throbbing behind his loose, low hanging pajama pants. Wait three minutes, you weak and pathetic little man.

He palms himself through the fabric to relieve some of the ache, picturing your ass up in the air on the end of his bed. When the three minutes pass, he practically sprints up the stairs until he reaches his bedroom. He takes a breath to compose himself before stepping over the threshold. Looking to his left, you’re exactly how he wanted you. Knees on the edge of the bed, hands planted on the mattress, eyes glued to the fluffy sheets below you.

“Remind me, sweet girl,” he fights the smile as you startle at his voice, wide eyes looking over your shoulder. He leans against the doorframe and crosses his arms. “Did you mark off that you’re interested in exploring aspects of anal sex?”

“Yes, Mister Miller.” You say shyly.

“Here’s what we are going to do,” he starts to walk towards you, eyes roaming along every inch of you. “Look at the mattress, please.”

He smiles as you obey, always his good girl.

“You’re going to stay very still. I am going to tease your beautiful pussy and ass with my tongue and fingers.” He stops right behind you, running his fingertips along the back of your thighs. “I’m going to go slow. I want you to close your eyes and just breathe. Focus on my tongue. Can you do that?”

“Yes, Mister Miller.”

“Good girl. Before we start, grab a pillow and put your chest on the bed. I need you to arch your back for me.” He slips his pajama pants off as you crawl forward to grab the pillow and licks his lips as your ass scoots back down the bed before you get into his desired position.

“So beautiful,” he coos, kneeling on the small bench at the foot of his bed. “I’m going to start by drawing long lines of my tongue from here,” his finger lightly presses on your clit, he collects your arousal as he runs it up the soft folds of your cunt, stopping when he reaches your asshole, “To here”.

“I’m going to do that a few times, and then start applying more and more pressure. Once you start to shake, and you will start, sweet girl, so please, don’t hold back. But once you start to shake, I’m going to swirl my thumb along that tight little ring of muscle while I eat your pussy.”

You let out a moan, he hasn’t even touched you yet and he can see you growing wetter. “Think you like the idea of that. Already so wet for me.”

“What else?” You ask with a moan.

“I’m going to tease your ass with my tongue and fingers until you let me in. And then fuck you with my fingers, all while continuing to suck on your clit until you come for me. Do I have your consent?”

He can hear the smile on your face as you say, “Yes, Mister Miller.”

“No, no, baby. I want you to say ‘Yes, Mister Miller, you have my consent to play with my ass’.”

He sees your cheeks flush crimson, he brings his hands to your waist, holding you firmly as his cock rubs against your thighs. “Y-yes, Mister Miller. You have my consent….”

“You can say it, sweet girl. Come on.”

“To….”

He leans over you, placing a kiss on your shoulder. “Good girl, keep going.”

“To play with my ass.”

He sinks his teeth into the meat of one of your cheeks and then runs his tongue over the sharp pain before he does exactly as he said he was going to.

You

Your whimpers of pleasure fill the room as two of Joel’s thick fingers slide easily into your ass. You have no concept of how long he’s been teasing you. Since he took the lube out, you’ve been nothing but a vibrating ball of pleasure. His tongue flicks your clit with perfect precision, his fingers stretching and caressing you at the same time.

“I wanna come, Mister Miller,” you whine.

He pulls his face away from your centre. “That right?”

“Please. It feels so good.”

“You know you don’t have to ask, sweet girl. You can come as many times as you want.”

“Need more,” you manage to gasp as he curls his fingers slightly inside of you.

“What do you need?”

“Fuck me - fuck me while you do that with your fingers.”

“‘Manners!” He growls.

“Please, Mister Miller,” you half whine, half cry. “I need to come. Please.”

He slips his fingers from you and you whimper in protest. “I know, sweet girl.”

He urges you to move forward and then you feel the mattress dip as he kneels behind you. The click of the cap of the lube sounds behind you, the cool liquid hitting your ass. The warm tip of his cock slides from your ass to clit, back and forth, spreading your slick along with the lube. You push back into the soft top of his cock every time it teases your ass.

“Needy little thing, aren’t you?”

“It’s been hours, please, Mister Miller.”

“That’s a bit dramatic, baby,” he says, focusing his attention on that tight ring of muscle that you’ve never explored before. “It hasn’t even been an hour.“

You push back again, feeling intense pressure. You hiss as the sensation but don’t pull away. “Easy, sweet girl. I don’t want to hurt you.”

The slippery tip of his cock slides towards your entrance. He pauses, and then as he finally pushes inside of you, his thumb enters you at the same time. You cry out, “Oh my god.”

The usual pinch of the stretch of him filling you isn’t there this time. You don’t need to adjust to his size, you just need him to fuck you.

“Harder, Mister Miller.”

He obliges, keeping his thumb firmly inside of you as he slides his hips back and thrusts forward. He repeats this motion, setting a quick pace, his hips slamming against your ass over and over. You bury your face into the pillow and scream; deja vu washes over you. The darkness, the way his cock kisses your g-spot, the heat of his body behind you. This is the recurring dream you used to have about Joel, and it’s so much better in real life.

“Play with your pretty clit, sweet girl. Wanna feel you.”

You bring your hand to your clit. You’re so wet that your fingers easily slip along your most sensitive part. You rub fast, tight circles, moaning and somehow arching your back even further. “Atta girl. Make yourself come for me.”

Your orgasm slams through you and you scream his preferred dom name into the pillow. Your entire body is vibrating, your pussy clenches hard around his cock. You feel him growing harder before he’s calling your name along with praise and then spills inside of you.

His forehead meets your back, the sweat of his forehead mixing with your own as you both try to catch your breath. Your heart races. I love you.

Joel

When his alarm goes off Monday morning, it’s the first time in a long time that he’s not looking forward to work. He spent the better part of his weekend with you. The rest of your Saturday was spent in a bubble bath before ordering take out and watching movies. He reluctantly dropped you off at home on Sunday morning in a pair of his sweatpants, a hoodie and wool socks. Even while carrying your dress and heels and doing a proverbial walk of shame, you were undeniably gorgeous.

Now, he sits in his office, the heat of the afternoon spring sun causing the air conditioner to whirl. In the past few weeks, his feelings towards being in a relationship has mirrored the weather. When he met you in February, he was cold and isolated towards the idea, but now just weeks later as March turns to April, he’s warm and soft towards it, opening up to someone when he didn’t think he ever would. He opens a brown folder, a proposal for a new building that JMConstriction is going to take on. Tommy has already done the real work; at this point, Joel is just the figurehead for the construction side. He grabs his pen, looping a J and an M neatly.

He places his glass on the table and pinches the bridge of his nose. He knows he should have read that before signing, if only he could focus on the words. Somehow the letters on the page transformed into you. Smiling as the movie played, laughing as the two of you tried to toss popcorn across the couch and into the other person's mouth.

He’s all in, for as long as you’ll let him. He woke up Sunday morning to his cock in your mouth. You whispered asking if it was ok and after his hum of approval he watched your lips slide up and down his shaft. Simply put, he is mesmerized by you. He stopped you before he came, pulling you onto your side, your back against his front and slipped inside of you. He made you come three times before he let himself fall over the edge.

As he held you, you confirmed that you were staying here for law school.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?”

“Yes. For lots of reasons. But yes, I’m happy. I don’t think I’ve ever been happy. I’m staying here.”

Guilt and excitement swirled in his stomach at your decision. He has to tell you what he did. He should tell you regardless of your decision, but it’s going to be so much harder now. He picks up his phone and texts you.

Joel: Hi, sweet girl. Before we celebrate at the club on Tuesday, can I take you out for dinner?

You: I would love that, Mister Miller. But this super rich man has me scheduled to clean his house from 12-4, so what time are you thinking?

Joel: Get ready at my place, Freckles. We’ll have a drink and then go for dinner, then I’m going to teach you all about the St. Andrew’s Cross.

He wants you to stay. More than wants, he needs you to stay. The thought of you leaving now makes him feel like his lungs are in a vice grip. Wrong, Joel. That vice grip is actually that thing you did. You know this is going to hurt her, he scolds himself loudly. The imaginary iron fist squeezes tighter and he fights to suck in a full breath.

He has to tell you. He will tell you. At dinner tomorrow night, he will explain everything from the beginning. You can’t find out any other way or you’ll likely never forgive him. His heart starts to deflate at the thought of not being able to wake up beside you again; seeing you in a cocoon of down-filled sheets, just the top of your head and one foot giving away your identity.

He stands from his desk and walks towards his office door, clicking the lock and resting his forehead against the wood. He closes his eyes, resting one hand on his chest. I can’t lose her.

523 notes · View notes

creative-crybaby · 4 months ago

Text

Trifle

PAIRING: Gojo Satoru x fem!reader

GENRE: crack? crack. | smut (18+)

Minors DNI

TAGS + WARNINGS: fingering, oral (m receiving), praise kink, dacryphilia (?), cum eating, squirting

Let me know if I missed anything.

WORD COUNT: 1.7k

SUMMARY: Two things can be true at the same time. Does Gojo make you want to hit him upside the head with a frying pan, should his Infinity allow it? Yes. Does he also know how to make your ovaries explode with his fingers alone? Also yes.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Heeeeyyyy~ yes it's been several months without a fic and this comes out under 2k words buuuuuutttt~ u get bitchass!Gojo (we love him)

You’re going to kill him.

He’s a walking, talking headache. Questioning your teaching methods for your students, eating your sweets even though you’ve labelled them (it’s right there!), swooping into your missions like he’s saving the day. Those are just a few of the many examples, but he does it all on purpose, you’re sure of it.

So to be sitting between his long legs with his slender fingers knuckle-deep into your sopping cunt feels like a blow to your integrity and pride.

Especially since he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“So,” Gojo drawls, pausing his ministrations between your trembling thighs, “how many orgasms was that?”

Your face is boiling. From rage or embarrassment, you can’t decide. “Fuck you.”

The sorcerer hums at your crude remark before slipping his digits out of your pussy, holding his hand a foot away from your face to catch your essence blanketing his skin.

“Patience, patience.” His easy-going tone makes you want to jab your elbow into his stomach. “Jeez, someone’s eager. You finally warming up to me, Princess?”

And that damn nickname. Either Gojo genuinely doesn’t know how much you hate it, or he’s just trying to push your buttons some more. With the clueless grins he’d offer as he’d call you that, you’d assume the former. But with his explanation for calling you that being that you always stick your nose up at him, you don’t think he deserves any benefit of the doubt.

You hate that nickname, yet you find yourself clenching around nothing just from hearing those familiar syllables.

His first question came out like he was asking for the time, yet with the number of times he’s made you see galaxies, you ought to be grateful that his tone holds no cockiness. No, actually, you might prefer that instead—how dare he handle this victory with grace and nonchalance?

“This doesn’t even make us friends,” you manage to stammer through gritted teeth. Your glare remains on his hand, still drenched before you, though your frustration lies more down south than anywhere else.

You can hear the taunting frown in the sorcerer’s voice. “Guess you won’t care for this anymore, then.”

His arm, responsible for putting you in your puddle-like state, slowly retracts, and you can feel the sorcerer take his time raising from his seated position.

Now he’s finally giving you the space you always wanted from him, yet you surprise yourself by grabbing him by the wrist. You let go as soon as you recognize your action, but the deed has already been done.

An overly enthusiastic gasp. “You do like me!”

“Oh, my God—If I say yes, will you just finish the job already?” you groan.

Gojo plops back to his seating position behind you, nestling his chin onto your shoulder as he teases his hand to return between your thighs. His warm breath fans your cheek while his lips graze your earlobe. Miniscule actions that have your body heating up. Intentional on his part, most likely, though you refuse to give him any more ammo against you.

A heavy sigh. The feigned disappointment in his tone has your brows furrowing so intensely that you worry you might pop a vein.

“No gratitude for the hand that feeds you, huh?” The special-grade sorcerer nuzzles into your neck, his woe-is-me attitude soon replaced with a blinding grin and boyish giggle. “Oh, but you know I can’t be mad at you for long!”

Long and slender fingers bury themselves in your weeping cunt before you process his mood swings. A trembling moan slips from your mouth as his skilled ministrations resume, your sweet spot welcoming the familiar touch. His speed and rhythm return as if he never paused, further turning your brain to mush as your thighs tremble. Gojo chuckles childishly once more, the charming melody syncing with the embarrassingly loud squelching of your soaking pussy.

Multiple orgasms later, and you ask for more. The heat from the situation must be melting your sense of reason because you can’t tell if you’re greedy or just plain stupid.

“You crying?” Gojo’s voice carries its usual teasing lilt, the one he has specifically for you. You don’t even realize how the fresh tears glaze your vision—as if he didn’t already have enough fuel for the fire.

But you bite your tongue. You bite your tongue because there’s no convincing anyone that he’s crazy and seeing things and the last thing you need is for him to stall some more when you’re already sososo close to the edge.

A slight change in angle. It does the trick, his fingers still bullying that one spot while his palm brushes against your throbbing clit with just as much vigour. Your body tenses, a choked sob escaping your glossy lips as your orgasm hits you like a tsunami. Warm liquid follows soon after, the blue-eyed sorcerer’s movements refusing to halt and making lewd splashing sounds in the process.

Even once everything simmers down, the impact decides to remain a bit longer. With a heaving chest and stuttering hips, the room stops spinning, slowly but surely.

A low whistle. “If you had to pee, you could have just said so.”

“Why are you like this?”

Gojo hums before slipping his fingers out of your pussy, earning him a slightly pained whimper from you. He stands back up as you wipe away the evidence of your crying, peering up at him when his shadow blankets you. His towering frame never fails to catch you off-guard, but what currently has your attention is the Special Grade sorcerer sucking his digits clean of your juices, a satisfied mewl coming straight from his throat.

“Welp,” he stretches his arms above his head, “we still have a bit of time left before we have that meeting with good ol’ Principal Yaga, so,” the sound of a zipper reaches your ears, and it's only a few seconds later that he pulls out his cock—long, stiff and painfully ready, “why not return the favour?”

You’re too fucked out to argue against him. That’s the reasoning you’d think of using should he confront you about your willingness to comply. You can’t help it if you’re losing the staring contest against his cock, saliva pooling on your tongue as he taps his vermillion tip against your cheek.

Your lips part as your eyes flutter closed, unable to bear to look at the Special Grade sorcerer as you take him down your throat, inch by inch. The gagging sound that erupts from your throat halfway through makes your brows furrow, and you can only hope the man above you doesn’t comment. With clenched fists sitting on your lap, you further shield your sight with screwed-shut lids as you push yourself to take more, using your tongue for good measure.

A shuddered sigh leaves Gojo’s soft lips when you tease one of his veins. “That’s a good fuckin’ girl.”

You moan in response, feeling bold enough to create a steady pace to bob your head. Whatever you couldn’t reach, your hand took care of, a part of your brain urging you to squeeze him just a bit harder. His responses only grow louder, his groaning and panting setting your face on fire.

“You’re so good at this,” he rasps, his large hand finding the top of your head. Despite his gentle touch, you furrow your brows at the contact. “Too good…” You don’t expect him to slip himself out of your mouth, holding his base away from your mouth and making you finally look up at him. Gojo tilts his head to the side. “You’ve done this before?”

You'd have thought he was teasing if it weren’t for the pout on his lips. You look at him for a moment with an incredulous expression.

“What are you talking about?” You swat his hand out of your hair. “You seriously think being with anyone outside our line of work would be easy?” The male sorcerer’s gaze carries hope at your words, a noticeable shine in those cerulean blues that make your heart stutter. Unsure of what to do next, you continue the lost momentum by pumping his pulsing cock in your hand. “I’m stuck with you, Gojo.”

You figure his shuddered gasp is from your returning touch, especially with the combination of pinched brows, quivering lips and heavy blush on his cheeks and ears. But his large hand on top of yours–the one doing all the work–tells another story.

“You really do like me, Princess!” The sorcerer exclaims, his voice wavering halfway.

At this point, you don’t care to dissect whether or not he’s pushing your buttons. Even at a time like this….

“I meant I’m settling for you,” you grumble, ignoring how his hand practically devours yours. You manage to retract your hold from his. “Don’t make me bite you.”

Gojo giggles at your threat, his bottom lip slipping between his teeth when you plop his dick back in your mouth. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

Without warning, you graze his shaft with your teeth the more you take him in your mouth. Not enough to hurt, but enough to send a message, if your irritated expression wasn’t already doing the job.

Although, you suppose it is your fault for not taking him seriously either. Your actions earn you a whimper from the Special Grade sorcerer. Not a second later, he has his head thrown back as he pours his load down your throat. Your eyes widen at the overpowering taste, doing what you can to swallow every drop without choking. Even through his orgasm, you find yourself thinking about how he ought to cut down on the sweets.

You’re quick to pull back for air once Gojo comes down from his high, sputtering in your hand as he sighs happily.

“Told ya,” he muses, tucking himself back in. You wipe your mouth, glaring at him from your spot on the floor.

“Whatever,” you grunt, putting your clothes back on before attempting to stand. If he notices your legs still wobbling, he thankfully doesn’t comment. “Let’s just hurry and get to that meeting before Yaga gets mad.”

Gojo hums with a tilt of his head as he watches you dusting off your pants.

“Oh, yeah!” He drops his fist into his palm. You throw a wary look his way when he grins. “We’ve been late this whole time, actually.”

#jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen smut #jjk #jjk smut #gojo satoru #gojo smut #gojo x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #smut

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k-hotchoisan · 8 months ago

Note

hello dearest 🥰

hard hours are open? so are my legs for this:

thoughts on writing a full story?

love you and your work, have a blessed new years ❤️

7 minutes of compensation

Coming back upset and disappointed at how your date turned out, Seonghwa and Yunho decide on a way to compensate you, in their own pretty little way.

Rating: R - explicit

Genres/Warnings: pwp, smut, 3some, oral (f receiving), riding, orgasms, fratboys!ateez, pet names, unprotected sex, face fucking, cream pies, dacryphilia, fingering, reader is a brat and it's deserved, pussy slapping (only once)

Word count: 3.6K

a/n: super late on this one, but this prompt was perfect for @atzhouse frat boys event <3 enjoy and indulge heavily 🩷 also thank you to my lovely @bro-atz for helping me develop the plot i could kiss u to death!!

Taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @voicesinmyhead-rc @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @songmingisthighs @yeosangiess @interweab @mylovelymito @softwsan @yourlocaljonghoe @itza-meee @ywtf @jeon-ify

You were gonna fucking kill them. The both of them. As much as you adored them as your roommates, you swear they fucking sucked at matchmaking, or either that, their fraternity has men that are less than subpar.

Unfortunately for Yunho, he happened to be in the line of fire, and he got the heat first—meeting your cold gaze, then your sharp eye rolls which truthfully, he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him until you blocked his path, arms folded tightly across your chest, your bottom lip sucked in from sheer annoyance, and even though Yunho pretty much towered over you, for once, you don’t feel small.

“Is it a thing in your little groupie that none of y’all can even reach the bare minimum of being a man?” You spit, narrowing your eyes, tilting your head.

Yunho scrunches his eyebrows in confusion. “I’m not following, y/n”, he replies. Even though you know he’s being honest, unfortunately, he’s still part of the stupid fraternity, and technically he seconded introducing this poor excuse of a male to you.

“Where’s Park Seonghwa? Is he hiding from me because he fucking knew that son of a bitch was a sorry excuse of a man?” You grunt, attempting to push past Yunho, who quickly grabs you by the shoulders before you actually start acting on impulse and causing some property damage. It works. Barely.

“Hey, hey. Y/n, you need to tell me what happened before you decide to burn our dorm to the ground,” Yunho says, trying to meet your glacial eyes. God, Yuhno is so fucking lucky that he has a personality of a cotton ball because that’s what he could turn you into in an instant just with his gentle voice and soft demeanor. You kind of knew it wasn’t really his fault that the male he and Seonghwa introduced ended up being completely a piece of shit, but still.

No. You weren’t about to falter at Yunho’s warm gaze and the way he’s leaning into you, his hands firm on your shoulders. Deep inside, you knew Yunho was the last person to be unreasonable.

Your hard stare is slowly softening and the hostility is slowly dissolving much to your dismay, but you still hold your pout, now turning more cranky than mad.

You decide taking a deep breath to start your complaint would be the right way about it, especially since it helped with hiding your tears that were just threatening to fall.

At that moment, Seonghwa emerges from his room, having heard the commotion from the common space, his face as clueless as Yunho’s. Yunho turns away from you, the grip on your shoulders lightening as he stands up straight to look at the older male.

Seonghwa’s stare blank as he shuts his door, “I heard my name. What’s going on?”

Now there the three of you were—on your bed, Seonghwa on your left, Yunho on your right, the both of them exchanging glances at each other, not wanting to break the silence or you’d end up breaking their necks. Your arms are still crossed, and your expression now a pout rather than some intention to commit murder within the dorm. You made them sit with each other in complete silence while you decided to take a shower to hopefully wash off the vexation, obviously to no avail. At least you smelled nice.

“The guy the both of you introduced”, you huff another deep breath, “not only fucking sucked in bed but tell me why none of you told me he was fucking someone else?”

Another exchange of glances, this time with panic and confusion swirling in their eyes. You stand up and face them, your hands on your hips.

“We swear we didn’t know”, Seonghwa is the first to respond, his hands raised defensively. “He said he was interested in you, and we just…”

“Linked the both of you up, since you offhandedly mentioned that he was pretty cute”, Yunho continues.

You smile, which doesn’t reach your eyes on top of dripping with anything but kindness or satisfaction, well, given the complete fuckery your stupid date put you through. You lean forward, stroking Seonghwa’s jaw, and for a moment, he seems entranced by your gaze, growing slightly breathless for a split second.

“Did you know who he was fucking?” You ask, and it comes off as a rhetorical pop quiz question, which both Seonghwa and Yunho knew better than even trying to guess, lest you have their heads in your arms by the time this is over.

Seonghwa’s tongue slips out, wetting his plump lips out of nervousness. Sometimes you think Seonghwa looks absolutely delectable when he stares up at you with his doe eyes. You watch him shake his head.

Then you let go of the poor man, leaving him to catch his breath on top of having the smell of your body soap almost shutting the rest of his senses down.

“His ex-girlfriend”, you spit, accompanied by a roll of your eyes. Both males had expressions that were equivalent to being a deer in headlights, which slightly cushioned your hostility because it seemed that they genuinely didn’t know about this.

“I’m sorry to hear about that”, Yunho says, and there’s a glint of guilt in his eyes you barely catch. His hands reach out to yours, hoping to appease your anger slightly, and Seonghwa mirrors his reaction.

“Y/n, I’ll make sure he never contacts you ever, alright?” Seonghwa follows, his fingers gently stroking yours, making a mental note to bash his fraternity mate into the wall when he has the chance to. “Yunho and I will make sure of that.”

“I can’t believe he fucking fumbled a chance like that”, Yunho mutters.

You remove your hands from the two males, crawling towards the headboard, letting your head rest on the endless amount of pillows, both Seonghwa and Yunho trailing you with their eyes, watching the way your shorts were riding dangerously up your thighs.

“I want compensation, from the both of you”, you remark, your eyes darting to your phone screen, gradually getting distracted as your anger slowly dissipates. “On top of him being a piece of shit, he fucks like a loser. You have guys like that in your fraternity to represent how y’all fuck or what?”

It takes less than a millisecond for Seonghwa’s gaze to darken, which you don’t notice until your phone gets snatched from your hands. You are about to part your lips to complain, that is, until you see the poison dripping from Seonghwa’s gaze. Before you can register it, a pair of arms lift you from below, and you’re facing Seonghwa, while being seated on Yunho’s lap. Yunho’s arms are wrapped around you, and you realise you’re trapped.

“No, Angel. We don’t fuck like that piece of shit does”, Seonghwa corrects you, his voice calm and almost angelic, if it wasn’t for the fact that his tone is tinted with anything but.

“We fuck better.”

“You shouldn’t lump us with guys like him, that hurts our feelings y’know”, Yunho chimes behind you, his voice tickling your ear.

Seonghwa’s lips are inches away from yours, “Believe me, we’ll compensate you fully.”

You feel your heart hammering in your chest, the tension in the air climbing up in levels at a rapid pace. Seonghwa doesn’t intend to give you the time to form your thoughts before his lips are on yours, gentle yet greedy, growing more possessive by the second, and you let yourself melt into his lips, his touch, his seduction.

Soft moans escape your lips the more Seonghwa lets his tongue swipe yours and your lips. Fuck. Yunho’s fingers snake underneath your shirt, sending goosebumps all over your abdomen until he reaches your tits, and his fingers begin to roll your nipples against his fingertips as he alternates between squeezing your full tits, enjoying the whimpers you’re voicing while Seonghwa makes a mess out of your lips. Your mind is slowly slipping, and the next thing you’re feeling is the way your panties are getting soaked by the second.

Seonghwa pulls back, licking away the string of saliva connecting both of your lips, watching your lips swollen and your face flush, with a smile on his face.

Yunho’s hands leave your tits, and he brings up your shirt past your shoulders while Seonghwa pulls off your shorts, exposing the pretty wet patch on your panties.

“Look at you, so pretty and wet for us”, Yunho hums, his hand reaching down past your panties, and you gasp at the feeling of his fingertips drawing circles on your wet clit. He does it so painfully slow and you swear he’s doing it on purpose.

“Yunho-“, you mutter breathlessly, your hands grabbing his muscled arm. Seonghwa pulls your panties to the side, revealing your soaking pussy, just begging to be filled up. Yunho shifts his hands from underneath your panties to where Seonghwa had pulled them to the side.

They weren’t about to let you have your way, at least not yet.

“Now, are you taking back what you said about us fucking like losers?” Seonghwa asks, guiding Yunho’s fingers going back to circling between your clit and your sopping hole. You swear you were about to lose your fucking mind.

You stare at Seonghwa, eyes slowly getting glazed out the more Yunho’s fingertips grazed along your clit.

“No.”

Yunho’s hand makes impact on your cunt, making you gasp, your eyes blowing open from the shock that climbed along your spine, the sound wet and loud.

“Wrong answer, dollface”, Yunho hisses into your ear, barely giving you a second to catch your breath before his fingers plunge into your cunt, your head falling back against his shoulders, a broken curse slipping past your lips.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking wet. You’ve just been thinking of this, haven’t you?” Yunho curses, feeling your soft walls squeeze against his fingers whenever his fingers enter you on top of the pretty squelching sounds your pussy was making for him.

Yunho presses against your g-spot, and you jolt slightly, your legs spreading wider on instinct accompanied by another moan, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by the two males.

Yunho’s suddenly fingers pull out and you’re ready to protest from the denial, until you feel something harder and thicker pressing against your spine. Shit.

Seonghwa unlocks your phone and taps on the timer app, filtering through numbers before he shifts the screen to your view.

“We’ll make you cum in seven minutes as compensation, Angel”, Seonghwa promises. He looks so confident too. “If we don’t, then you can do whatever you want with us.”

“But if we do, you’ll take back your words, and we’ll do whatever we want with you, with your consent of course”, Yunho adds.

Truthfully, the deal was a matter of pride rather than anything else, and you being sandwiched by your hot roommates on top of it? Just the cherry on top.

“Fine”, you agree, and Yunho, tips your chin to face him, lowering himself to press his lips on yours before passing you over to Seonghwa, who also seals the deal with a kiss.

“That’s a good girl”, Seonghwa hums, pressing his thumb against the corner of your lips. “Yunho should fuck you, right? Since he was the first person who caught your heat.”

“But he’s-“

“It’ll fit, dollface. I’ve seen the dildos you fuck yourself with. My dick will fit you just perfectly”, Yunho cuts you off, leaving your heart to slam against your chest.

Yunho lifts you up as he positions you right about his thick cock before he lowers you down, completely splitting you open as his cock fills you up all the fucking way, leaving your thoughts and sanity somewhere else by now.

“How are you feeling, Angel?” Seonghwa even has the courtesy to fucking ask. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, both from pleasure and pressure.

“So fuckin’ full. Fuck”, you mutter, your mind in a complete haze as you attempt to adjust to Yunho’s size. Seonghwa swallows hard at the way your pussy is just stretching to fit Yunho in plain sight before he starts the timer.

Then he lowers himself to your filled cunt, and licks up your clit, making you jerk.

Oh boy, these two are definitely about to drive you crazy.

Your head falls onto Yunho’s shoulders as you try to pace your breathing, but with Seonghwa at your cunt lapping your cream while Yunho has your pussy filled? It seemed like an impossible mission.

As Yunho fits into you, dragging against your walls and pressing dangerously close to your g-spot, Seonghwa’s slow and wet licks against your clit only stimulated and soaked you more to widen up to further fit in Yunho—now a complete cycle of hell of Seonghwa eating your pussy out making Yunho’s cock sit deeper in you which in turn made your clit all the more sensitive towards Seonghwa eating your cunt out. You were sure you wouldn’t last long at this rate.

A quick glance at the timer—two minutes had passed, and yet it felt like an eternity from how much stimulation you were getting. Soon enough, you were confident that time wouldn’t even exist as a whole.

Your body shudders in pleasure once more when Seonghwa licks another stripe up your cunt, trying to hold your composure, only for it to be broken down when Seonghwa’s wet lips suck on your clit, your mind blanking out from the sensation.

“Such a good fucking girl for us, y/n”, Yunho’s gentle voice barely registering in your head. He glances at the timer. “Four more minutes for us to break you. You know it’s okay to just let go and ruin your bedsheets right? We’ll wash them for you.” Jesus fucking Christ.

The numbers on the timer on your phone continue to descend agonisingly slow and the looming, ticklish feeling of an orgasm is just threatening to spill over at any moment. Your mind begins to drift off, shrouded in the mist of pleasure, with Yunho, low moans as the icing on the cake whenever he feels your walls squeeze around you, his praises sounding like a hymn.

Seonghwa switches between his tongue and fingers, the only denominator is him making sure to send you off the edge, casting his gorgeous eyes upwards to meet yours, watching your reactions like a hawk. The cream around the base of Yunho’s cock grows thicker every time he pulls out from your stretched hole.

At the sixth minute, you realise you are a lost cause—Seonghwa licking and grazing his fingertips against your wet clit while Yunho has his cock balls deep in you, hitting deep fucking spots in your cunt.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck”, you cry out, your eyes screwed shut, barely processing Yunho’s kisses down your neck as he stuffs you full once more. Seonghwa pulls back, licking your cream off his lips before they pull into a smirk, then making sure he overstimulates and sends your whole body into an orbit with his fingers on your clit. Stars scatter and burst into your eyelids, you barely were able to keep them open when your cum spurts out of you, alongside your cries about feeling so fucking good while you screamed both of Yunho's and Seonghwa’s names, diluting the cum from Yunho who fills you up warm seconds after.

Both men watch you unravel in complete awe and adoration. They should have done this sooner if they knew your cunt would be this fucking good.

“Six minutes and fifteen seconds”, Seonghwa brings up your phone with a smile. “You did fare pretty well, Angel.”

He lifts you off Yunho’s cock, his cum trickling past your trembling inner thighs, and Yunho groans from the sensitivity, giving his wet cock a couple of pumps. You were not in any position to complain, not when your body is barely recovering from your high, because you’re on your stomach, facing Yunho’s thick cock, your eyes rolling back once more when you feel Seonghwa’s cock stretching you open once more. Your face buried in the sheets, your fist digging into the fabric, your ass automatically lifting to accommodate Seonghwa.

“Fuck. You’re still so fucking tight, Angel. Were you waiting for me to fuck you next? You’re just begging for me to fuck Yunho’s cum out of you, aren’t you?”

You could only muster a weak whine of Seonghwa’s name before Yunho’s cock gently taps on your cheek. You look up at Yunho, your eyes completely glazed out, realising your mouth suddenly feeling very empty.

As Seonghwa slides his cock out of you, your phone suddenly lights up, the vibration catching both boys’ attention. Yunho glances over and cocks an eyebrow when he sees the caller ID flash across the screen. He looks over at Seonghwa who catches his eye, then nods to his older friend to pick up the call. Seonghwa reaches over, even as he’s still fucking his cock in you, and slides answer.

“Hey.”

“Hello? Seonghwa Hyung? Isn’t this y/n’s phone?”

Seonghwa glances down at you, ass still bouncing off his fat cock while taking Yunho’s cock in your mouth, your body twitching from time to time on top trying to fit Yunho in your mouth.

“Y/n’s not available right now. She’s a little…preoccupied.”

There’s a pause for a moment.

“O-oh. ‘Cause I was meaning to talk to her about the ex-girlfriend thing and-“

“H-Hwa”, you whimper, feeling your brain short-circuiting every time his hips snap against yours, feeling your brain up with nothing but just cock. Seonghwa returns your look with nothing less than affection before he bothers to focus back on his friend’s endless amount of excuses for acting like a piece of shit.

“You don’t need to anymore, dude.”

“What? Wait I don’t-“

Seonghwa smirks into the phone. “She’s not interested anymore—Ah fuck, that’s it Angel.”

“What the fuck is going on there?!”

Seonghwa only chuckles in reply, hitting the loudspeaker for Yunho to reply him, “Don’t worry about y/n, she’s well taken care of. Better than however the fuck you did, that’s for sure.” Yunho strokes your jaw, encouraging you to fit more of him in your mouth, biting back a curse when look up at him with doe eyes, spit and precum just coating his cock every time you bob your head.

“We definitely need a little talk when we see you. Until then, maybe learn to fuck better”, Seonghwa adds, before disconnecting the line, ignoring the sudden myriad of messages barging and spamming your inbox from said male. Well, you were busy.

Seonghwa’s attention snaps back to you once more when he feels your cunt squeeze around him, and the way your pussy is just endlessly creaming on his cock is just driving Seonghwa closer to his high, partnered with the obscene sounds bouncing off the walls he knew his fraternity brother definitely heard.

“That’s a good fucking girl. You’re doing so well for me. Fuck. I’m gonna cum. So fucking close, Angel”, Seonghwa hisses, his thrusts becoming more erratic, cock mindlessly hitting deeper spots of your poor cunt before he feels you completely let go and cum right on his cock as well, his warm cum filling up your cunt.

Yunho isn’t faring any better, his eyes are glazed out at the way your throat is closing around his cock every time he slips it in, and when your eyes roll back with your mouth covering the entirety of his cock, clenching him again at the back of your throat, Yunho can’t help but cum down your tight pretty throat with a strangled groan, along with praises of you taking his cock like his good little girl, and how you’re taking all of his cum so well, which only makes your mind buzz with pleasure on top of both of your holes being filled up.

Yunho jerks back slightly on instinct from the overstimulation, before his hands cup your jaw to assist you pull out. Cum dribbles down the corner of your lips from your futile attempt to swallow it all, but Yunho simply grabs a handful of tissues for you to spit in should you need to. Then his lips press onto your forehead, his voice like honey in your ears as he praises you for taking him and Seonghwa.

Seonghwa on the other hand, had pulled out of you, swallowing hard as his cum mixed with Yunho’s seeps past your folds, dripping onto his half hard cock. Seonghwa thinks he could go another round, but not now. The thought of ruining your pussy over and over again is definitely the most enticing to him, but he makes mental note to delete and block the twat’s number on your phone while you go wash up.

The exhaustion is slowly kicking into your body, considering you’ve never been fucked this good, but Yunho insists to wash you up before you rest in either one of their rooms, which you don’t put up much of a fight against, considering the state of you right now.

Yunho, slightly displeased that Seonghwa insisted on snuggling on his bed as well, the three of you sharing Yunho’s bed, with you in the middle. As Seonghwa combs through your hair with his fingers, you suddenly remember the phone call.

You look up to both of them and ask, “Who called just now?” Evidently, you were so deep into your pleasure that who called didn’t even register in your mind, the faint memory of the dull vibration of your phone being the only thing you recall.

Yunho and Seonghwa exchange glances before their eyes shoot back to you. Yunho forces a smile and Seonghwa continues to stroke your head, slowly lulling you into an exhausted slumber.

“No one important. Someone we can thank for being able to compensate you, darling”, are the last words you barely process before you fall asleep in their arms.

1K notes · View notes

dilf-docs · 15 days ago

Text

I'm Happy Where The Devils Are

dbf!joel miller x younger!reader

summary: something something about forbidden things; you never learn, not until the heart you gave returns to you in shreds, bleeding out of love. what's left when you've given all of your heaven away? hell.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (but this time it's sad not hot or both idk), smut, p. in v., virgin!reader, (forced??) creampie, fingering, riding, oral (f. receiving), corruption kink, reader has no daddy issues ++her dad is lovely nor mommy issues like me but a secret third thing, ANGST IN CAPITAL, situationship™, jumping very late to this trend or series IDK hope someone still lurks around this neighbourhood, joel has no kids and is unmarried cause i need him to be BITTER, in short this is very AU canon divergence at max coded

word count: 7,629 words

side note: IF U SAW IT POSTED BEFORE NO U DIDN'T IT WAS A HONEST MISTAKE (clicked publish instead of save draft) OKAY i just searched thru my top 2024 songs by spotify for some inspo and well!!!!!! my yet to be dilf RM's (or joon as i, his wife, loves to call him endearingly) song called heaven popped up! those are the vibes if u wanna give it a listen (PLS DO OKAY HE RANKED TOP KOREAN ALBUM THIS YEAR AND I SEE I'M GETTING OFF THE HOOK BUT HE DESERVES IT RAHH I LOVE HIM SO MUCH) and yk i said it's got the miller vibe going on: ANGST™ okay stopping my rambling and letting y'all enjoy (or suffer, idk anymore: as u see, i have a thing for sad complicated old man and suffering myself, because i could've choose any other idea but here goes user dilf-docs the angst whore choosing to suffer again lolz)

It was winter when he first touched you.

Joel Miller: a name you've learned to pronounce like it was spoken on a different language that only you knew.

You've known him for years, a familiar face that stands in corners and only laughs when spoken to, begrundingly, like it's rather a favor than something of his amusement. A guy who would drop by your house until you learned his name like he'd learn the games you'd force him to play. A friend of your dad, who moved back to town and has haunted your house since he stepped a foot inside, tainting the walls with his pine phantom.

Joel's a face you've seen age as much as he's seen you grow out of your pigtails and child-like wonder: and perhaps that's why it's wrong.

It is all so wrong: the way your gaze lingers a bit too long over his tired and bitter expresion, looking for those flickers of softeness that appear when your dad calls him. Old friend, filled with affection, and Joel can't deny the only man who hasn't left his side a smile that he hopes is enough to express what he can't; he's not good with words.

It is all so wrong: how the sheets stick to your body while you scream his name, the sound drowning against your pillow, your body leaking with the secret of an unspoken desire that gets harder to hide with each passing day.

But you can't help it: one day the feelings started to blossom and the admiration left for the crush to harvest until it fully bloomed in your chest. Its petals have asfixiated you ever since.

On winter, you returned to town, like a vice. You always came back for the holidays, a silver of hope that shouldn't exist. You felt it in the air, impregnated with a heartbreak so cutting, it was hard to remember when the winter carried the happiness it should've; all that's left was the cold, harsh feeling.

"Y/n!" your dad embraces your body on a hug as warm as a fireplace, "you're home"

He passes you around the people over, because that's how he always is: joyful, the house full with guests that don't stop at family, but feel as close as those of blood. She came! he loudly yet proudly announces your homecoming, adding small sprinkles of how's college and how smart his little girl is (a nickname he can't let go of, not caring if you were ten then and now just above twenty), not caring if your face is as red as christmas easters.

"You have to stop, dad" you plead with annoyance, but a small smile betrays you, "no one wants to hear how I'm top of my class again, for the millionth time"

"Well, it's my house" he jokes, "so they better get used to it" he then looks around the room, as if he's forgetting something, "ah, someone I must bore with your stories is missing..."

He talks to some more people around and you have to plaster a smile and salute faces you can't recognize, but as on cue, the door flings open, some people near the entrance greeting a face you've yet to see and recognize. Your father gets there first, the smile that spreads across his face making your stomach tie in knots.

"Joel's here!" he delivers with excitement, unaware of how your polite smile falters.

"Joel's here" you repeat, grief laced within your words. Grief of what? You don't know, but you do know a part of you dies the more you look at Joel Miller the way you're not supposed to.

"Come say hi" your father insists, happy in his ignorance, despite your paced walk and stiff demeanor.

And walking your way is him, the man who owns your heart without knowing.

His hair is still as soft as ever, more tints of grey sprinkled through it. Your fingers itch to trace it, so you keep your fists closed until the red nails dig into the tight white flesh. He has more wrinkles, pronounced when his brows furrow at the sight of you.

"I know she's grown a lot, but I hope you still recognize her" your dad says with affection, "isn't she beautiful, my y/n? Grown into a whole lady"

Your heart hammers against your chest as Joel looks you up and down, but there is no emotion across his face.

"It's only been a year, but sure, she has" as stoic as ever, but it's enough to make your nerves wreck. You can't believe how much a simple stare and a few words can get to you.

But you were always like this: weak. Back then, at kindergarten grounds, when making a friend seemed the hardest task. Now, at university, when you wonder if something is wrong with you that always makes you the last option to choose.

Maybe that's why Joel, a man so strong in appearance and character, never liked you: that all those memories were a dream, and he just did it as an extension of his affection for your dad.

You'll never forget that dinner last year, on these same days, when for the first time, both your parents left you alone with Joel, their guest for the night. There was a storm outside, and it was almost funny how the brash wind against the window mimicked your steady heart. You didn't know he was coming, but when you did, you put on your best dress on purpose and dusted a makeup palette a friend gave you, yet he didn't even look your way.

"Do you hate me, Joel?" you asked in a whispered breathe, the cold silence as answer.

It's contradictory, really: your love grows where his hate does. More like hate, it's a disregard so cruel, you can't help but wonder if there's something wrong with you, making you attached to an older man that only seems to have apathy for you. Because one thing is attraction, but other is the deep adoration where you'd die if he were to ask you.

It's your fault, really, for turning his life into folklore. You still remember sitting on your father's lap as he talked your ear off, full of stories that Joel, always by his side, would quietly laugh, the fireplace casting shadow over a man who seemed to overpower the darkness that now is palpable on his gaze. He'd said your dad was making him greater than he really was, pinching your cheeks as he called you sugar, reasoning you were so sweet.

But since last year, something shifted: he started avoiding you, like he resented you.

And you never understood why. So every season you've searched in his eyes for a sign, anything, that can make you go back to that speacial relationship you had, missing him like a little kid. It's been a year, and you feel, if possible, more at loss than before.

Back to now, it's almost midnight, and most of the guests have gone already. You've tried to look cool in the eyes of those who are still there, conversation flowing easily through your eggnog-tinted tongue, yet you know it's all pretend.

"Excuse me" you can't take it anymore, the air suffocating you in anxiousness.

"Where are you going?" questions your mom, stopping you in your tracks before going up the stairs.

You turn around and feign a smile, "Up to my room"

"Are you okay?" your dad asks with worry.

"Yeah, just tired" you lie with ease, and the miles you've driven back it up.

"If you need anything, just tell" she says.

When you fall against the mattress, all the weight settles in. You close your eyes and count to ten, breathing in and breathing out.

The door creaks, so you get up as you open your eyes. "Dad" you start, knowing he's all about giving you talks, "Not now, please-"

"M' not y'r daddy"

You shiver despite the closed windows.

"Joel!" you jump, straightening yourself, "did dad send you?"

He doesn't respond, looking at you through brown warm eyes that reveal nothing. The pit in your stomach grows along awkward silence.

"It's cold outside, isn't it?" you attempt to make conversation, hating the silence. But you fail: he's still here, and regardless of his indifference, he doesn't leave.

Maybe it's the bit of alcohol from before, but you're standing over until you get close to his resting figure against the doorframe, the darkness of your room leaving his face, now barely lit by the light outside in the hallway. Joel's so close you can hear his breathing, and it surprises you the way it drags like a cigarette.

You feel confident for the first time, defiant even, tired of it all, like if it was his fault you loved him. You're sick of him viewing you like a naive kid who knows no better.

"Joel, why are you here?"

The lavender gets under his nose, his skin on fire. He looks at you again, but this time, the brown in his eyes darkens.

"Joel...?" you ask on a shaky breath.

Before you can register, there's warmth against your cheek. His fingers graze your face with an unspoken yearning on his fingertips, as he gently grabs your chin.

Your breath hitches, hand traveling to feel his on your face, to see if it's real and not a dream.

"Joel, what are you doing?"

He backs up, like your touch burns. And then looks at you, as if you're a stone on his shoe: just like all those boys back at the city, who have rejected you. You feel small, like crying.

"M' sorry" and walks out of your room, his scent up your nose. His limping figure walks down the hallway that now looks longer. You don't realize how long you've stared until you hear your father ask downstairs where was he.

It's like he was never there.

It was spring when he first kissed you.

It's funny how you still came back home after such disastrous holidays.

Joel stayed for the rest of the holidays, including Christmas and New Years, and when he hugged you in the living room full of guests, you had to pretend his fingers hadn't hold you differently before. You both lied your way out, and when you left, for the first time, you felt relieved, which is why it took some convincing from your father to make you return for spring.

"You couldn't miss this" he insists, "it's the best time to visit the cabin"

And you have to agree: a small cabin by the lake that your parents bought when they first moved in to town, a place you spent most of your childhood. Your father taught you how to fish there, and ever since, even as you moved away for college, you came back to do so, a tradition kept intact despite the years.

Your mom looks at you from the rear view mirror. "He wouldn't stop talking about it, afraid you wouldn't join us this year" your dad hushes her, embarrased, "oh! Don't act like you didn't"

Truth is, you'd still come: you miss the green tickling your bare feet, the cold water, and the sun kissing your skin as you lay outside. It's a lie you don't wait all year to leave the cold city and embrace the blooming spring.

"I wouldn't miss it for anything, dad" you lay against the car's door, closing your eyes as you smile. He doesn't say anything, yet with the way your mom giggles, you know he probably got teary or something―your sappy old man.

The car stops, the cabin in front of you. You feel like crying, so many memories flooding you. Alright, you're being sappy just like your dad, but it's been a hard semester and you missed your family.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you something" he says as you get out. The small denim short rides up as you stretch, your legs numb from the trip.

"Yeah?"

A car honks from behind. You jump, loosing balance as you trip. "Ow!" you land on the grass, embarrasingly so.

"C'mere" you look up, the sun blinding his face. "Lemme help ya', sugar"

The nickname feels like a slap to your face, so you stay there stupid, body stiff as you raise up, Joel's face flooding your field of vision.

"That's what I forgot to tell you" your dad laughs, "or who"

You're not laughing. Joel Miller is here and it's ruines your trip.

"Well, you should've" you took his hand just for the show, because you know your mom is observant. If there was an electric rush, you must've imagined it, just as the way his hands fall to his sides, twitching.

Over the next couple of days, you try to ignore him as much as you can, pretending your spring hasn't changed: fishing, laying down, sun and baths.

"Hey"

Your sun glasses rest on your nose as you raise from your spot, laying on a towel on the grass as you sunbathe.

"What'd want, Joel?" your tone is icy, contrasting the warmer climate.

"M' going to the lake" he mumbles, then stays silent. It's almost as if he's waiting for you to answer.

"Okay?" you lay down again, "have fun"

"Y'r dad said you'd teach me" he raises a fishing row.

You groan in annoyance, getting up from your spot, "why doesn't he do it?"

"Said y'r the best" then coughs, "besides, I think him and your momma needed some time alone..."

You walk past, shoulder brushing against his. You've never been this childish before, but your anger fuels your emotions: rage when you see him and remember how the warm of his touch turned cold in seconds.

You arrive at the small dock, sitting on the rather hot wood. You don't flinch, trying to prove nothing. Joel sits next to you and makes a face at the burning sensation.

"What?" you mock, venom dripping from your tone, "can't handle some heat?"

He just scoffs, passing the row to you with a little more force than necessary.

Your petty revenge is splashing his shirt, damping the cotton with the lake's water.

"I'm sorry" you apologize, feigning an innocent tone, "wanted to freshen up"

"Thought ya could handle the heat" Joel grumbles.

Then he curses under his breath, taking the shirt off and tossing it to the side.

You take in now shirtless body, admiring the strong muscles, broad shoulders and sturdy back. He sits next to you, his belly pushing just above the seam of his shorts. You recoil, almost as if heat radiated off his body, your cheeks burning. Your hands tremble as you hold the row, and it takes every strength of you to not succumb to the dangerous view; it's all too tempting.

"Y'r gonna teach me or what?" he breaks your train of thoughts, his voice so low, as if you were a little animal he was trying not to scare off, "just gonna stare? Ain't y'r daddy taught ya some manners?"

A current shoots through your body and looses itself in the middle of your legs.

You divert your gaze, ashamed. "Don't know what you're talking about"

"Liar" but it's so soft, it sounds more like an observation than an accusation.

"Drop it, Joel" you focus on the water but you know your mind is elsewhere.

"Sugar..."

You feel like throwing up. Why after ignoring you is he calling you like he used to? When he was your favorite person in the world and you were his. He used to hold you close, but now acts like your touch is poisoned. Joel confuses you too much; he's got you feeling like screaming at the sky.

"I said drop it, Joel" you seethe, "you may be old, but you're not deaf"

"And you may be young" his fingers remove the glasses from your face, your wary eyes in exhibit, "but y'r too bold"

They stay there, on your face, his rough fingertips touching your soft sun-kissed skin.

You don't know why you do it, but you do.

You get up, your legs on his face. Until then, you don't realize how close you two were.

"I'm not bold, Joel" you whisper, "I'm scared"

And then you jump.

The world reduces to a blur, body as light as a feather. The sensation of falling is familiar and you don't know why.

It's barely a second, like a blink.

The cold water hitting your body brings you back to reality.

You can't see, it's all dark. But you feel free: you may be underwater, but over him.

You feel like you got the upper hand, but then the water starts moving and a huge splash next to you makes you look back.

Joel jumped too.

"What are you doing?!" you shout.

What are you doing to me? What do you want from me? What will you do to me?

"Takin' a splash" he answers, like it's obvious.

"You know what I meant" your tone is rather spiteful.

"And you had'a teach me" he's again in front of you, barely inches away, "so I guess we're both dissapointed we didn't get what we wanted"

There's water dripping from his hair, falling to his face. Water drops adorn his eyelashes, warm eyes deeper than ever, and you feel like drowning even as your body floats.

"And what do you want?" you challenge, the question implying only so much.

His lips clash into yours, hungry like a wolf. Your hands immediately grip his neck for support as his tongue forcefully gets inside of you, water droplets filling your taste buds. You gasp for air, all of your body pressed against his.

"That answer y'r question?" tone defiant, as if he's also a player on this game that's just started.

You just don't know yet how much you've got to loose.

It was summer when he became yours.

You'd never anticipated coming back home as much as now.

The lingering feeling of his scruffy beard against yours, back pressed against the walls of the shed at midnight while he devoured your lips in a hungry kiss has stayed with you since you left the cabin, trapped in the salt air. Now you're coming back for more, butterflies in the low of your belly as you remember his words:

"When y'get back, I'll have ya' a surprise"

You park at your house, searching for the keys under the rug, but they aren't there. You knock to no answer, so you call your dad and mom, only for both of the calls to go directly to voicemail. Yes, you came a day earlier than planned, but your parents are always home the week you arrive, so something must be going on.

Before you worry, a voice behind you says:

"Ain't nobody inside. Y'r folks went out"

It's Joel, looking as good as the last day you saw him. Just to taste him again, you were complaint on every single of his requirements, one being no contact. He claimed he didn't want to distract you back at college, and you didn't ask any more questions, afraid you'd press a wrong button and loose what felt like a dream.

"Really?" you walk out of your porch to where he is, resisting the urge to kiss him in the middle of your neighbourhood's street.

"Hmh" he nods, "said they ain't comin' back soon"

"They told you so?" you question, "why do I feel you had something to do with it?"

"Ain't do shit" he crosses his arms, the t-shirt sleeves making his arm muscles more prominent. He then coughs, "just recommended y'r dad a nice restaurant outside town. Maybe they'll be later than night, traffic is kinda packed at late"

You smile, "Joel?"

He doesn't look at you, "yes?"

You fail to suppress a giggle, "did you just get rid of my parents?"

"No" he answers, stern. "Now" he looks around, all doors closed, "why don't 'cha come inside? Sun is hittin' hard"

He's a terrible liar.

As soon as you enter his house, you can't believe you've never been there before, visits usually in your house.

It's exactly what you expected: a simple and sober decoration that hides a welcoming feeling somewhere. There's something else you notice: the lack of pictures.

"Make yourself comfortable" he says, coughing, looking akward all of a sudden. You want to laugh and coo his now insecure demeanor, shy in your present. If he seemed sure before, he doesn't anymore. "I''ll get ya' some water"

"Joel?" your voice comes out low, equalling a purr. His cock twitches in his pants at the way you call him.

"Yes?" he swallows, adam's apple bobbing.

"I hope you didn't bring me into your house just for a glass" then you sit on the couch, the small short you're wearing riding up your thighs. "Besides, I'm not thirsty"

He doesn't move, almost as if he's lost the ability to react; in a trance.

"What do you want?" voice deep, like he'd give you anything you ask.

"Have you forgot already, old man?" you quip. "You promised me something" even if your voice is steady, your fingers tremble when you start un-buttoning your shirt, "and I'm waiting for it"

If he could drool like a dog, he would. He slowly gets closer to you, until he's towering over your sitting figure.

"Ya' think it's funny tempting me like that, sugar? Playing with an old fuck as me like that?"

You whimper, resolve melting quickly. "N-no" you feel ashamed, hand ready to button yourself again until his hand grabs yours, stopping you from doing so.

"I'm sorry, sugar" he raises your body swiftly, making you stand up. "Actions have consequences, and I'm gonna teach ya' some"

When his lips land on yours, you feel you've reached heaven again. His mouth easily know your roads, traveling to every spot he can to deepen the kiss. He eats you out like he's starved, sweat starting to pool in your foreheads. He grabs you by the waist, pulling your closer if possible, your chest clashing against his pecs. His heart hammers against you, and that's all you hear aside your raggedy breaths and famished clashing. You grab his hair again, feeling the soft texture under your fingers. Joel moans against your lips when you bite his, something a friend told you to do, and it's proven to work.

"Where'd you learn that, huh?" you taste like strawberries, the proof on his now coated shiny lips and your disheveled gloss. His grip turns stronger, "thought ya' were innocent, little vixen"

"I still am" you avoid his gaze, and even if his hold falters, when you look again into his eyes, there's a flame burning in them. "But I want you to have it, Joel"

"Sugar-" starts, condescending.

"Don't" you immediatly cut him off. "I'm an adult, I know what I want"

"I just want ya' to be sure" but his cock is already hard, "don't want ya' to regret it"

"I could never regret you, Joel" you whisper.

He picks up your body, that despite the years, is still as strong as ever. He goes up the stairs, looking at you so lovingly, you feel like anything is possible.

Maybe this is how it feels like.

He softly drops you onto the mattress, that dips under your weight. You place yourself against the bed head, and when Joel gets in, it creaks.

"I'm gonna make ya' feel so good, sugar. I promise" he slurs, "Now be a good girl and open up for me"

Your part your legs, and he's taking down your shorts until your lingerine is exposed. With wandering fingers, he traces your inner thights, delighted at the way you squirm under his touch. He then travels to your pussy, the clothe the only thing separating him from your bare cunt.

"Has anyone eat ya' down here before?" he can smell your arousal, seeing the wet spot in the middle of your panties. He's salivating at the fresh meal. You deny, embarrased, but he seems content at that, "those dumb college boys haven't treated you right? Then lemme show y'how a real man's supposed to eat ya'"

He strips you off your panties, landing somewhere on the floor. You shudder at the sudden breeze on your bare core.

"Already drippin' for me?" he softly laughs, "we ain't even started"

He dives down, the rough of his facial hair sending tickles through your body. He gives a small lick at first, as if testing. When you let out a small moan, he feels invencible. He keeps the ministrations going, more cute sounds escaping your lips. He wants to hear more of them, addicted to the sound, heat pooling when he remembers he's the one causing them.

"Liking it, sugar?" he stops to ask, his voice provoking more vibrations that hit your core in a pleasant way.

"D-don't stop" you plead in the middle of a whine.

He eats you like a madman. Slurping and sloshing sounds bounce off the walls, your hands gripping his greying locks tightly as his face pushes further into your puffy heat, sucking on the sensitive clit. With his filthy mouth, he takes on of the lips on his mouth, robbing a loud groan out of you.

"Your pussy, God" his breath fans against it, "tastes so good, sugar, sweet like you" he licks more, making it get wetter. You didn't know you had that in you, nothing compared to when you tried to touch yourself back at your dorm, too ashamed to try anything else.

He groans against your heat, sending another wave of pleasure through your body.

He then gets up, showing you his thick digits like one shows something new to a baby, "guess what?" you have no idea, and your innocent doe eye'd gaze makes him squirm at the thought of being the first to touch untainted territories (in many ways).

"M' gonna finger you baby, okay? I promise's gonna feel good" Joel assures as he slowly inserts one of his fingers. You arch your back as you felt his fingers in your warm walls. He then puts another, thick fingers in and out of your pussy, your arousal dripping down his wrist. You squirm and whine, thighs shaking at the intensity of the pleasure he was giving you. There's a weird tension happening down there. "J-Joel" you pant, "I feel-"

"Let it go, sugar" he doesn't stop, "I'm here for ya' and y'r sweet cunt"

Liquid soon gushes out. "Fuck" he curses. You shy away and looking everywhere but his eyes.

"Feels good?" you nodded incoherently, "wanna feel even better?"

He gets rid of his pants, the silhoutte hard under his underwear. You gulp, afraid you might not take it.

"Joel..." you call his name, hesitant. Fuck, he's so horny he could care less if he's too big for your first.

"We'll go slow" he leans forward to kiss your forehead, "I know'll take it"

"O-okay" you're still not sure and a bit afraid, but you want him, so you surrender to him.

You feel something heavy go inside your folds. You look down to see his enormous cock sliding in between your tight walls, the skin glistening in your slick,round tip leaking with his precum.

"Tell me" he's soft on you, despite what you're doing, "I'll stop if it hurts"

It does. It burns: how your cunt tries to adapt to his girth, stretching in a painful but delicious feeling.

"N-no" your voice comes out strained, drops of blood falling into the sheets, "keep going"

"Such a greedy thing are ya'?" Joel laughs, truly laughs, the rich sound coming deep from his chest, "what would daddy say?"

"Shut up" you bite, holding onto his shoulders for stability. Please, don't let me fall.

Half way in, he pulls out before diving back in, helping you adjust to his size slowly. Your eyes are trained on the way his cock disappears inside your leaking pussy.

"Should'I keep goin'?" he asks.

"K-keep going" you say softly, and with that, he gently starts inching into you.

"Good girl" he coos.

His cock stretches out your virgin hole perfectly, like it was meant for him. He feels himself melting at the sight of you, something to worry about later. Not now, when your breath hitches as he fills you up. Your cunt fit snug around his length, like you were made for him.

Joel drops his head on your shoulder as he fully entered you, tired, his energy not as much as when he was young. Beads of summer sweat shimmer in your bodies, as not only that but the feeling of your pussy wrapped around his dick make you warm.

Joel takes in a moment to see the mess he's made of you: parted lips, shut eyes, nails digging on his neck. You were deep in pleasure: because of him. His dick twitches at that, and inside of you, it makes you whimper.

"M' gonna start movin', 'kay? Tell me if it's too much"

His weight presses over your body before starting to pull out and push back in. The thrusts start slow, soon picking up a rhytmic pace. Joel grips your hips with his rough big hands, to then start fucking into you.

"Mhm" you whine.

"Mhm, what? Use your words, sugar"

"I-it feels so good, Joel" despite the pain, despite the doubts, the haze is so envolving, he's made of you a moaning mess, drunk in pleasure; the feeling of him inside of you has you seeing stars.

"Y-you feel good too, baby" he pants, your pussy gushing at each thrust. He starts going harder, making you scream.

"Who you belong to, sugar?" his hot breath pours in your ear, "say it"

"You, Joel" you whisper the answer like a sacred oath, "Just you. I'm all yours"

Before you can say anything else, his dick touches a spot within you. Such a sweet spot, that has you moaning and feeling something unlike anything you've experienced before: it washes over you as you clamp down on him. You hear yourself cry, voice barely recognizable. Your vision goes blurry, then mind blank.

Joel groans with your pretty cries of pleasure, watching the way your cunt milks his cock, drooling with your juice.

"Such a nice girl for me, sugar. Did so well" he whispers, and a dark tought crosses his mind. He feels dirty, taking advantage of your age and naivety, your figure still half-gone, "think you want me, all of me?"

You nod, still out of your mind, and before you can process the real meaning of his words, hot stripes of his seed plaster your walls, coating each inch of you. Joel presses his lips into yours to shut your moans, kissing you hard.

"You good?" you can only nod, still in shock, the events dawning over you. "Don't worry, I'll buy ya' a pill before your folks come back"

The sun shines outside; there's still time. You just wonder how much.

It was autumn when he said I love you.

Yellow and orange leaves fall in the roads not taken as you've fallen for Joel.

Ever since summer, you've been waiting for the next time to see him: sleeping with him being the last thought, touching yourself to his voice on your mind, drawing hearts in the bylines of your notes. His figure, first a dream, then a fleeting hope and now a high you need to feel once again, because you can't let go of the way he fucked you, your cries of pleasure, how your walls stretched for him and the way he held you that afternoon and the next nights you escaped your house, crossing the street under the moonlight, hiding as a criminal.

But you'd do anything to feel him, his heart beating against your chest like it was yours to bear. You need to see him, so you're doing the most stupid choice of your life.

There's a pause after you knock, and then Joel opens his door.

"Sugar!" he looks surprised, then angry and finally scared. "The fuck you doin' here? Ain't you supposed to come 'til winter?"

"I couldn't wait" you whine in desperation, clinging onto him like a koala. You'd searched for something, anything, that smelled like him back at the city, but even his flannel shirt you'd stolen had started to loose its smell.

He looks around, "do your-"

"No" you pause, "they don't know I'm here"

He curses under his breath, realizing just how much you're deep in this. He's fucked: fucked because he'll comply even if he knows this has to stop.

"I have the keys" you pick the dirt under your nails, a nervous habit of yours, "for the cabin"

Joel remembers last spring, how he ate you inside the walls of the shed, wishing for more. More came the next summer, and now you're hear again, looking at with with that look he hates: like you'd burn the world just to keep him warm.

"How'd you do that?"

"Took them last summer" you reveal your plan all along, "just in case" yet you had already made your mind before leaving town.

"Damn it, sugar" he's speechless, "you're fucking crazy"

You giggle despite the uneasiness creeping up, "just for you, Joel"

He takes you to the cabin on his car, yours already there. And you'd walked to his house? You have indeed, lost your mind.

"What're we supposed to do?" he thinks out loud.

You groan, "I don't know, Joel. But I didn't drive miles just for you to stand there"

He can't lie and say he hasn't thought about you: your lashes, soft when closed; the way his room still smelled like you even after two weeks of your parting, or how the sun seemed to highlight all your perfect spots. He even thinks of you on his bathroom while he grabs his dick, fucking himself to the memorized song of your moans and uneven breaths as he pulled in and out of you.

"Then get inside" he's demanding, and your panties wet at the tone and the voice you missed so much, "it's cold out'ere"

As soon as you close the door, he's grabbing your face with force, that it almost seems like two people fighting, not two who missed each other.

"Joel" you mumble, breathless.

"Missed ya' so much, sugar" he confesses against your lips. A trail of saliva hangs; silver of hope. "It was killin' me"

"I missed you too, Joel" you deepen the kiss, tears threatening to spill from the corner of your eyes. "Couldn't stop thinking about you"

"Yeah?" he sits on the living room's couch, creaking under the sudden weight. "Tell me what that pretty head of yours was thinkin'"

"You" in a heartbeat, and you see his gaze go from dark to something else, lurking behind; you're scared to find out what it is.

Joel motions you to come over. You take your shoes and pants off, siting on his lap.

"Yeah-?" his voice falters, "tell me what"

"How our names sound together, how pretty you are..." you wander. "I also thought about you, all of you, inside of me"

"Watch that filthy mout of yours, sugar" he chastises but there's no anger behind his reprimand, "one summer bouncing on my cock an' y'r already a needy slut"

You whine at his words, rubbing yourself against his tight.

"D-don't" he undoes his belt and jeans, leaving only his underwear. Your desperate fingers pull them down, revealing his already pulsating cock, "don't tease this ole' man and just do the real thing"

He lets you use him, his hips rocking forwards despite his creaking bones, your swollen clit dragging against his pelvis. He sees your face, how you bite your lip as you test your needs, fucking yourself while you ride him. He lets you because: one, he's old and tired, and two, he wants to see you until he's memorized every small detail of your face. He lets you edge yourself close, crying as you feel it coming, but then he plants his feet onto the wooden floor, his boots making a hollow sound that echoes through the walls, the only other sound aside your cries, and thrusts his length up into you.

You yelp at the sudden sensation of his cock inside of you again.

"Think I'd let ya' have it all?" he mocks, "need to fuck y'r pretty pussy too; gotta have it for myself. Would ya' let me?"

You can't deny him anything.

"Yes, Joel" his hands immediatly grab your hips with a pressure so strong, you fear there'll soon be a bruise there. His cock buries fully within you. The air fills with a strong scent, just your moans and his grunts bouncing off the walls, soon warming up from the cold, the crease of his eyebrow pronounced as he realeases, coating your folds with his cum.

"God, sugar" he sounds a bit embarrased, "look at you, makin' me cum so fast"

But he's too enamoured by the sight of you on top of him, still riding him despite his quick orgasm, so he cups your face gently, the beads of sweat on your forehead falling into his hand. He feels more alive than ever, like his life has just started. Oh, he can picture it: coming home to the smell of your food, kissing the absence of the day off your mouth, to then bend you over the counter. He wants so much more, but he knows it can't be, yet, he's far too gone to even think about turning around.

You lift your hips until his cock slips out of you, using your fingers to bring it back. His cum clings to your folds as you sink back down, hips barely lifting you back up before you keep him buried inside of you. He loves watching you slide down his length, slipping in and out of your puffy cunt as his cock softens. It pushes his cum back into your cunt, sticky over your clit as it drips to your thighs.

You did bring a pill this time, so you don't care of the mess his thick flood of cum that dribbles out of you has made on your pussy and his clothes.

"Fuck" you let out, sex-filled mind speaking up. "Don't ever leave me again"

"I won't" he answers hastily, then regrets it. But you don't know that.

Instead, numbness takes over your body, the events of last hours finally draining your body. Sleep settles in, and you nest your head on Joel's sweaty shoulder.

"Lemme take you to bed" you hear his half-drowned voice, carrying your body to the main bedroom.

Joel Miller was always a mystery to you: a man who seemed impossible to break, his world hiding behind a permanent scowl. It felt like his heart was locked, seemingly unbreakable, but where he was rough, his edges had softened for you.

He places you over the bed softly, dipping next to you. Joel's strong arms embrace you, pulling your tired figure closer. His face hides in your neck and his soft belly pushes against the curve of your back, all while he presses a soft kiss to it.

"I think I love you" he murmurs to no one in particular.

But you hear.

It was winter again, when he broke your heart.

Before the holidays, you'd drop by every other weekend. Cancelling plans, waiting for his call. For his grave voice to say Come over, and you'd speed up the brakes with an urgency only he had taught you.

You'd find yourself in the cabin, loosing track of time that rushed like a bottle of wine. Kissing until your mouth was swollen and the only thing that satisfied your hunger was his lips, fucking until sunrise and his bones ached. He'd then offer a tired smile, and you'd sing a soft tune in front of the fireplace while cuddling.

They say home is where the heart is. And it felt like one.

It was during one of those escapades that you showed up with your newest adquisition: a small cursive J just above your thigh, hiding under the plaid of your skirt.

It was your first fight. He shouted at you like he had never before, scolding you like a father would to a naive kid, the hatred you hadn't seen since he touched you that night a year ago, resurfacing.

"We're loosing ourselves" his voice cracked, sounding defeated. But then he'd suck the skin around it until it turned red.

The back and forth became the only thing keeping you alive, the need for his touch as addictive and destructive as a drug.

Which is why Christmas hadn't felt this jolly since being a kid.

You're back, and as you hug your dad and mom, you scour the place for his face: the one you've grown to yearn and love.

Your dad exchanges a glance with your mother and then looks at you weirdly before answering.

"He isn't coming; I thought you knew"

You don't care about the future explanations or the calls of your name, storming off and crossing the street to his place.

"Joel!" you shout, knocking desperately, "open the door!"

When you don't get an answer, you search for the spare key hiding under a pot in the porch. As you make your way inside, you spot Joel sitting in front of the fireplace, his eyes lost in the fire.

"Joel" you softly call his name. At that, he snaps, standing up. His eyes glow with the flames, circling in doubt.

"Sugar?" like he didn't expect you to actually search him on his absence, "what'd doing here?"

"I could ask you the same" you laugh, sardonically. "Don't know how I'll explain running off like that, so thanks, by the way"

"M' sorry"

The words fall heavy in the air, suddenly thick. Something tells you he isn't apologizing exactly for that.

There's something like guilt and fear simmering in his eyes. You think about all those times in the cabin, spring and autumn, and you're reminded of those three words he's said and you haven't. The realization hits you, and you're quick to reach him, grabbing his hand.

"Joel?" you call again. "I- I need to tell you something"

"So do I" but he sounds reluctant, "you go first"

"I don't know what's happening" your lip quivers, eyes glossy. God, he feels terrible, "but I want you to know that I love you"

He gasps, like you've slapped him across the face.

"No" he starts, pushing you away. He lets go of your hand, and the sudden cold hits you.

"I thought I still had time..." his shoulders slump in defeat, "guess I'm wrong"

"What do you mean?" anger and sadness flood your words.

"You can't love me" the words cut through you, and you're sick.

Sick of your rusting wheels that only move when he tells you to. Because that force, the dominance, Joel Miller seems to carry over the rest of the people, doesn't cut as deep as it cuts through you.

It's almost done with a benevolent authority, like he knows of said power and doesn't want to abuse it.

So now he's ordering you to stop loving him, like this year has meant nothing. Nothing.

"Love, funny word" your words carry rage, "do you even know what that means?" you try to hold back the tears in vain, "you don't, yet you say them so freely, like they mean nothing to you" he makes a surprised face, and you savour the pain reflected on his face, alike of yours. "Yes, I heard you, Joel. Y-you made me the happiest girl on the planet, but now I realize you're so full of shit"

You turn around, trying not to see his face, because you know that the more you look at him, the more seconds you add and the harder it would be to erase the memories you'll have to burn.

"Did you ever love me, Joel?" it pains you to whisper out loud.

"I love you, sugar" his voice is horse, like something had cut through it. "That's why I'm doing this"

"Are you, Joel?" you sigh, "if you loved me, wouldn't you want me to stay?"

"This won't end well" it's his answer, trying to reason, "I don't want to hold you back"

Coward. Asshole. Idiot.

Your tone is icy like the storm outside, "but it's already ended"

He's about to speak but you cut him off.

You can only smile. "I've given you everything and you took it. I really thought you were giving me your everything, but I realize now, that I know what you are. You don't need to hide it" he looks at you like it is you who's hurted him the most, "you're hard to love, Joel. But I tried"

He'll regret it. You know and you want to: you want him to feel the empty days blur with one another, that he remembers late at night what you had and he ended, so when he feels alone, the ghost of your free love haunts him with the happy days and sweet taste of your lips. Just then, he'll understand what your year of loving really meant.

You leave his house empty, a knife twisted in your heart. He's the only one who's got the key, and you know it will be long until anyone else can break it open.

But it's okay: if being with Joel was heaven, you'll happily burn in the flames of what's left.

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