#not to be a homosexual in the tags but i need her to slap me

[eloiscbridgerton]

random eloise bridgerton: 58/?

[ellieputellas]

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

[anamoon63]

Bold the Facts

Thanks to my friends @nocturnalazure and @wannabecatwriter for tagging me!

Noctie suggested that I did this for Kelly, so here are the bolded facts about her. 🥰

Kelly Randall

[ PERSONAL]

$ Financial: wealthy / moderate / poor / in poverty

✚ Medical: fit / moderate / sickly / disabled / disadvantaged / non applicable

✪ Class or Caste: upper / middle / working / unsure / other

✔ Education: qualified / unqualified / studying / other (college dropout) / high school dropout

✖ Criminal Record: yes, for major crimes / yes, for minor crimes / no / has committed crimes, but not caught yet / yes, but charges were dismissed

[ FAMILY]

◒ Children: had a child or children / has no children / wants children

(Kelly doesn’t want children for now)

◑ Relationship with Family: close with sibling(s) / not close with sibling(s) / has no siblings / sibling(s) is deceased

◔ Affiliation: orphaned / adopted / disowned / raised by birth parents / not aplicable

(Her mother died when she was born, raised by her father but he died when she was a teen, she has lived on her own since)

[ TRAITS + TENDENCIES]

♦ extroverted / introverted / in between

♦ disorganized / organized / in between

♦ close minded / open-minded / in between

♦ calm / anxious / in between

♦ disagreeable / agreeable / in between (sometimes, with certain people)

♦ cautious / reckless / in between

♦ patient / impatient / in between

♦ outspoken / reserved / in between

♦ leader / follower / in between

(She’s a natural leader, but she would follow Dale to hell if she had to.)

♦ empathetic / vicious bastard / in between (Lol)

♦ optimistic / pessimistic / in between (Mostly)

♦ traditional / modern / in between

(She was raised in a traditional family, but she follows her own values)

♦ hard-working / lazy / in between

(Mostly because she’s very ambitious)

♦ cultured / uncultured / in between / unknown

♦ loyal / disloyal / unknown

(Loyal to Dale of course, but also to herself)

♦ faithful / unfaithful / unknown (So far)

[ BELIEFS]

★ Faith: monotheist / polytheist / atheist / agnostic (I guess?)

☆ Belief in Ghosts or Spirits: yes / no / don’t know / don’t care

✮ Belief in an Afterlife: yes / no / don’t know / don’t care

✯ Belief in Reincarnation: yes / no / don’t know / don’t care

❃ Belief in Aliens: yes / no / don’t know / don’t care

✧ Religious: orthodox / liberal / in between / not religious

❀ Philosophical: yes / no (Kelly is rather emotional)

[ SEXUALITY & ROMANTIC INCLINATION ]

❤ Sexuality: heterosexual / homosexual / bisexual / asexual / pansexual

❥ Sex: sex repulsed / sex neutral / sex favorable / naive and clueless

♥ Romance: romance repulsed / romance neutral / romance favorable / naive and clueless / romance suspicious

(Yes, both, because Kelly is very jealous, lol. Don’t know if that’s what romance suspicious meant).

❣ Sexually: adventurous / experienced / naive / inexperienced / curious 😉

⚧ Potential Sexual Partners: male / female / agender / other / none / all

⚧ Potential Romantic Partners: male / female / agender / other / none / all

[ ABILITIES ]

☠ Combat Skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none

(I mean, she's good at slapping, also she’s really good with verbal sparring) 😄

≡ Literacy Skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none

✍ Artistic Skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none

✂ Technical Skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none

(Just "good" because Kelly isn't very good at studying, nor does she have great technical skills).

[ HABITS ]

☕ Drinking Alcohol: never / special occasions / sometimes / frequently / alcoholic

☁ Smoking: tried it / trying to quit / quit / never / rarely / sometimes / frequently / chain-smoker

(Getting worse and worse, learned the habit from Dale)

✿ Recreational Drugs: never / special occasions / sometimes / frequently / addict

(At least until now)

✌ Medicinal Drugs: never / no longer needs medication / some medication needed / frequently / to excess

☻ Unhealthy Food: never / special occasions / sometimes / frequently / binge eater

(She’s a model, but she finds it very hard to keep a diet)

$ Splurge Spending: never / sometimes / frequently / shopaholic

(Kelly loves shopping but she’s mostly frugal because of the hardships of her childhood)

♣ Gambling: never / rarely / sometimes / frequently / compulsive gambler

(She doesn’t like chance; she likes financial security and control)

And that's all about my gorgeous Kelly, I hope I did this correctly. Sorry for the picture spam, I just couldn't resist, lol.

Thank you again @nocturnalazure for making me revisit my The Cho Brothers gameplay. Such endearing memories! Planning to take it up soon. 💖

I'm tagging @beresimsdreamworld @dandylion240 @depictingdrew @edyavtostopom @echoweaver @marianetbarbara @satureja13 @serenasims @happy-lemon @simsdastra @dariaendzhyel and @nectar-cellar

If you already did this, please feel free to ignore me, or, if you feel like it, just point me to your Bold the Facts posts. 😊

[pookiecowpoke]

Some Algernon and bill, delicate and the rough. They just go perfect together ngl ٩(•̤̀ᵕ•̤́๑) make it spicccyyy

Pairing: Marion “Bill” Williamson/Algernon Wasp

Fandom: Red Dead Redemption II

Tags: Canon Divergence, Table Sex, Rough Sex, Sex as a way to cope (Kind of), Cream Pie, Dirty Talk, Possessive Behavior, Brief: period typical homosexual slur.

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2900

Comments: Honestly, when my boyfriend suggested this pairing I was fully on board from the beginning. I think Bill would totally go for Algernon. I mean come on, twinky high-class guy who is a little vain but also humble in a way, mixed with bear Williamson who has possession/jealousy issues and is a dumbass? It’s perfection. *chef kiss* I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I do! And thank you Crispies for the ask!

“Oh, Bill! She left me for a postman! A postman!” 

A grunt huffed from Bill’s chest as the Algernon slammed into him, his arms weakly wrapping around his shoulders. Bill was frozen, feeling the artist’s wet tears melt into his stained blue flannel. He wasn’t quite sure how to comfort the artist, but he also wasn’t complaining about being in close proximity to him. Bill inhaled deeply smelling the orchids and herbal tea on Algernon’s suit.

He had felt an attraction for the interesting curvy man the first time he had seen him at the Mayor’s party. He had spent weeks trying to woo him by traversing the swamps looking for his stupid flowers and feathers. Always leaving with a flirty pick up line that made the Algernon chuckle. God, his chuckle was so tantalizing. 

Now was his chance to strike. Sure, he should feel guilty for attacking when the man was obviously not in a sane frame of thought, but Bill wasn’t known for his mercy or compassion. 

“Naw, Algernon, you don’t need some Contessa or Countess, whoever she is.” Bill wrapped his strong arms around Algernon, suffocating him to his constantly sweating chest, efficiently trapping him there.

“But I loved her.” Algernon wailed pathetically and sniffled against Bill’s collarbone. God, if that whiny tone didn’t make Bill’s cock and balls ache. He rubbed a calloused hand down Algernon’s blue jacket, smearing hints of swamp grime over the pristine color. 

“Well, obviously she ain’t good enough for you if she didn’t see what an amazing feller you are.” He rolled his eyes at the lie; Bill couldn't be happier that she had left him. Bill mumbled, his hand tracing down over the curve of Algernon’s back to rest at the mound of his accentuated ass. 

Algernon leaned back, his moustache unkempt and eyes bloodshot. “If it was a prince I could get over it but-” A sob racked his throat and he buried his face in Bill’s shoulder again. 

Bill chewed on the inside of his cheek as he creeped a hand down to cup Algernon’s ass, feeling the flesh squish under his thick calloused fingers. Algernon’s crying died down to a soft sniffle and an awkward silence filled the room. It almost made Bill back away. Almost. 

“You know what cheers me up when I’m sad, Algernon?” Bill asked, his other hand curling around Algernon’s hip, pressing into the material of his corset. “I like to lay with pretty boys and make them moan.” He whispered into Algernon’s ear. 

Bill tensed waiting for Algernon to slap him, maybe even run to call the nearest police officer to expose him. But Algernon did none of those things. He very calmly pulled his head from Bill’s shoulder and gave him a puzzled look. “You’re an invert?” 

A wince formed on Bill’s face and he felt his ears redden from embarrassment. “Got a problem with that?” Bill shot back defensively. 

Algernon reeled from the tone shift, before bringing his hands up to press against Bill’s chest. His fingers gently rubbed the soft fabric of his flannel before tilting his head. “No, I don’t rightfully believe I do, Bill.” He said softly, his eyes still red from crying. 

A courage built up inside of Bill’s body at the knowledge that Algernon was at least a little bit on the homosexual side. Not that it wasn't completely obvious with how the man dressed, talked and even walked. A rumbling laugh bubbled out of Bill’s mouth as he swiftly slid both hands down to cup under Algernon’s rear before lifting him up with ease. 

Algernon yelped and wrapped his legs around Bill’s midsection and snatched the opened collar of Bill’s flannel. With a snort Bill disposed Algernon on top of the tea table, knocking over the empty tray used for biscuits. Bill slapped his hands against the table on either side of Algernon leaning in toward his face. He felt like a wolf cornering a timid rabbit, and he loved it.

“When I’m done with you, you won’t even remember that countess bitch.” Bill huffed and reached up to throw his hat off somewhere in the distance. Algernon let out a surprised gasp when Bill leaned in to pepper kisses and bites along his jaw down to his puffy neck tie. “If you don’t want me to rip off your fancy clothes, I suggest you take them off, Algernon.” 

“So lewd, Bill,” Algernon breathed out while reaching up to deftly loosen his tie and set it on the table beside him. His fingers danced down to unbutton his jacket, opening it to reveal a corset.  Algernon let the jacket fall off his shoulders, biting his lower lip in uncertainty. He unbuttoned the top of his shirt letting the material open to show his chest. The corset was cinched up giving Algernon’s waist a deliciously curved shape that made Bill want to drool. His pecs bulged out of the top and hips swelled out of the bottom. His hands found their place over the shapely mounds mumbling about them being the best rack he’d ever seen. Algernon was a god sent to walk on the human plane. 

And Algernon was all his for the taking.

His delicate hands reached up, running through Bill’s thick beard before pulling him for a sweet kiss. Bill melted, his thoughts going blank as he shut his eyes. One of his hands trailed down to Algernon’s lower thigh, urging it up to wrap around his hip, while the other felt its way into the curve of his waist. 

Algernon tilted his head and parted his lips letting Bill’s tongue dive into his mouth. Notes of honey and mint swirled over Bill’s taste buds as Algernon’s tongue passed over them. Pressing his growing erection into Algernon’s groin, Bill groaned into the kiss and plucked Algernon’s monocle off of his face. He pulled back to gasp for air, chuckling as Algernon’s pale face turned a bright pink. “You won’t need this.”

“And these, my my..” Bill rumbled and rubbed one of his rough thumb pads over the pert nipples peeking out from the unbuttoned shirt. They were heavenly soft and the skin was such a gentle pink, that Bill had a desire to bite them until they were a violent red. Algernon moaned softly, his back arching and making their groins rub together. 

 “B-Bill, t-those are sensitive,” Algernon wheezed as Bill licked his lips. 

“Good. Even more proof you need a man to put ya in your place.” Bill huffed and leaned down, his scratchy beard brushing over them before he latched on to one and rolled the bud between his teeth. Algernon wailed and wove his fingers through Bill’s hair tugging encouragingly on the thick locks. 

God, it felt good to reduce a man of such beauty to a mess. 

Bill laved his tongue over the nipple before turning his attention to its twin. He gave it a sharp bite before soothing it over with a sloppy kiss. His hands massaged Algernon’s hips and felt over the details of the blue and gold corset. Algernon’s small delicate noises spurred Bill on, giving the hardened buds attention until the pink color had changed to a beating red. 

Pulling back in satisfaction, Bill looked at Algernon’s face to judge how he was holding up. Algernon’s head was tilted back, his eyes squinted shut and mouth hanging open like he was experiencing the most pleasure he had ever felt. Smirking in pride, Bill stood upright, skimming his hands up and down Algernon’s pant legs as he rolled his hips. 

  “Ya think if I fucked you hard enough I could pop that corset of yours off?” Bill gripped the material of Algernon’s pants and pulled it down enough to unbutton the fly. Algernon sputtered as if he was trying to tell Bill something, but froze as Bill yanked his pants down. “Oh.”

Algernon didn’t wear a union suit under his outfit, no, no, Bill was greeted with a set of laced undergarments bulging from the artist’s erection. “Well, ain’t that a pleasant surprise.” 

“It’s too hot to wear a union suit! And they are so dreadful!” Algernon defended only for Bill to shrug and roughly cup his laced groin. 

“Sounds to me like you just like being a petite dame.” His thumbs hooked into the fabric that cut into Algernon’s hips, sliding it down until his cock punched out. “It suits you though. Never seen a day's work in your life, makes sense you’d want to wear this and get bred by a real man.” Bill snickered and tossed Algernon’s undergarments over his shoulder to join his hat on the floor. 

“Bill…” Algernon whined, cock twitching and leaking a bead of precum. “I’m usually not so vulgar, but I need you to fuck me right now.” 

“As if you had a say in it, Princess.” Bill snorted and grabbed Algernon’s legs pulling them up to rest against his chest, forcing him to lay back against the table. Calloused hands roughly grabbed at the flesh of Algernon’s thighs as Bill pushed his clothed bulge against Algernon’s ass. His dick flexed wanting so badly to be buried in Algernon’s sweet body. 

“Do- do you have slick? I-I haven’t done this in a while.” Algernon’s voice was breathless, his fingers coming up to play with his tits. 

“In a while? Who else have you laid down for? Of course I know what the fuck I’m doin’.” Bill grumbled, reaching to one of the pouches on his gun belt. He pulled out a tube of gun oil and slathered the oil onto his fingers before reaching between them to circle Algernon’s entrance. 

His middle finger pushed in without hesitation making Algernon’s moan. Bill worked quickly to add another finger, curling them to rub against the node of nerves. Algernon nearly screamed, his body spasming and eyes screwing shut. “Oh good heavens, Bill. I said I want you to fuck me already, please.” He demanded and dropped one of his legs down to pull Bill closer. 

“Shit, I didn’t realize how much of a whore you were.” Bill withdrew his fingers, giving his ass a quick slap making Algernon yelp. Bill made quick work of unbuckling his gun belt and unbuttoning his pants, his uncut dick emerged from a forest of thick black hair, aching for action. Bill wiped the oil on his hand onto his dick before putting just a little more oil on the shaft. Pulling back the foreskin, Bill bumped the head against Algernon’s pucker. “Ready prissy bitch?”

“Yes, how many times do I have to tell you- AH!” Algernon’s attitude dissolved instantly into a groan as Bill shoved half of his cock in without warning. Bill huffed and tilted his head back. Damn was Algernon tight and warm, his body constricting around Bill like a vice. 

Bill rubbed up and down Algernon’s leg soothingly before he grasped his hip in a punishing grip and pulled out only to force the rest of his length in. Pain radiated through Algernon’s body but he whined in bliss anyway, with his manicured fingernails scraping along the table top. 

After wiping the sweat from his brow, Bill reached down to massage his own balls, giving them a squeeze that made his dick twitch. “I’m going to fuck the life out of you.” Bill snarled, pulling his hand away from his balls to wrap a hand around Algernon’s pink cock. “You’re not allowed to cum until I say, got that?” Bill’s thumb swiped over the head to collect some precum before bringing it to his lips to taste. 

“Ngh- we’ll see if you can even get me to cum.” Algernon gave a weak smile, his pupils blown out and eyes half lit. Bill chuckled darkly and locked both hands onto Algernon’s hips, planting his boots firmly on the ground. 

“We’ll see for sure.” 

Just as Bill pulled his hips back to push back in, the door to the greenhouse opened. “Mr. Wasp? Are you here?” 

Bill gave Algernon the most wicked look and slowly pushed into him, letting his cock spear his insides. Algernon panicked, about to sit up before he went limp, his head lolling to the side and hand coming up to muffle a moan.  Bill leaned down, forcing the leg on his shoulder to press into Algernon’s midsection. “Better say something before they come all the way in.” Bill whispered harshly with the most devilish smirk he could muster.

Algernon gulped and grabbed Bill’s flannel, trying to clear his throat. “S-sorry! I’m closed at the moment! Come back l-AH-ter.” 

“Are you okay, Mr. Wasp?” The customer called and started to walk towards them. 

With an exaggerated eye roll, Bill thrusted his hips and barked over his shoulder. “Ya got sawdust in yer ears?! The man said he was closed,” he quietly snickered and looked down at their joined bodies. “Well, his legs definitely ain’t.”  

“Bill, don’t be so rud-ngh!” Algernon clenched his jaw shut as the outlaw rolled his hips slowly, making his dick drag and pull on his insides. After the customer left with an indignant huff, Algernon grabbed Bill’s cheeks and kissed him sloppily on the mouth. His composure had crumbled leaving a touch-starved wanton man in its wake. 

Bill curled his tongue on the inside of Algernon’s mouth, flicking it against his as their teeth clacked together. One of Bill’s hands cradled Algernon’s thigh to his chest while the other wove around the thigh locked over his hip. “I can’t wait to pump my load into ya, have ya dripping for days afterward.”

Algernon nodded absently, his face flushed and mouth parted. His lips were already turning a bruised color from the kissing, which made Bill’s balls ache and cock pulse. Spurred by how blissed out Algernon was, Bill started a rhythmic pace. His dick sliding in smoothly and ending with a buck of his hips before pulling out sharply. Algernon’s back curved beautifully as his arms flung above his head to grip the edge of the table. 

Each jerk of Bill’s hips made Algernon gasp and his tits bounce. Bill watched through half lidded eyes before the pressure in his groin became too much, and he increased the speed at which he entered Algernon. This pulled a more strangled noise from the artist and his leg tightened around Bill. 

“Oh-oh Bill it’s so good- hmmm! M-More, please!” Algernon had tears welling in his eyes. 

“Tell me ya want it. You want my filthy cock buried in ya. No one else’s, just mine.” Bill snarled while humping into Algernon like a dog. The table rocked loudly against the floor as Bill waited for a response out of the moaning mess under him. He felt ready to burst, and from the way Algernon’s cock dripped precum down the shaft and his inner walls tightened up, Bill guessed he was close as well. “I’m waitin’, bitch.” 

Bill swatted a hand over one of Algernon’s soft round tits, making the upper class man whine. “Oh fuck! Please Bill I want you to cum in me. Please, please! You’re the only one!” 

“Yessss, good slut.” Bill moaned, pistoling his hips in and out, frothing the precum and gun oil in Algernon’s channel. Euphoria hit, making his head swim and chest heave as the thought of finally having Algernon tipped him over. With two thrusts that made Algernon’s teeth clack together, Bill came. A low groan rumbled out of his chest, some spit flying between his clenched teeth, but Bill didn’t stop thrusting until his balls stopped aching. 

Bill didn’t realize he had collapsed on top of Algernon until the smaller man slurred that he was flexible but his leg couldn’t hold that position for long. Bill pushed himself off the warm body, nearly stumbling as he looked at the mess on Algernon. He had cum over his own corset and drool ran down his cheek. “Goddamn, I gotta say you look better as a needy whore covered in cum rather than an uptight city bitch.”

As his flaccid cock pulled out of Algernon’s winking hole, Bill watched it intensely. Cum dripped down onto the floor creating a puddle under the table. Bill licked his lips and smeared his dirty cock head over the gaping hole he carved before he grabbed Algernon’s puff tie to wipe his dick off and tuck it away. 

After throwing the tie away, Bill planted a few sweet kisses from Algernon’s chest up to his neck. “How does my Princess feel now? Hmm? Liked being fucked by a big man? Told ya you didn’t need that Contessa whore.” Bill’s voice was rough and his chest still heaved as he tried to catch his breath.

Bill swept a stray hair out of Algernon’s face and picked up his monocle, smearing the glass with his finger tips. He placed it on Algernon’s face making the disheveled artist chuckle and mumble a ‘thank you’.

“How about we get you cleaned up? I could use a drink right about now.” Bill suggested while holding his hand out for Algernon to take. 

“I can brew some tea, just let me get my balance back.” Algernon hummed while taking Bill’s hand and sitting upright. Bill almost groaned in disgust. Tea was not his idea of a drink.

[ijustwant2write]

The Tomboy-Shelby Family x Shelby!Sister!Reader

(GIF credit to @mutlulugumhayallerim​)

Masterlist

Prompt List

Tags: @jenepleurepasbaby​ @amirahiddleston​ @bloodorangemoonlight​ @haphazardhufflepuff​ @mzcrazy2​

Requested by anonymous: ‘Hi!! I was wondering if you could do one where the reader is a major tomboy and the youngest Shelby and people start to bully her because she never acts like a girl and she comes home crying and everyone comforts her and next time she goes out the boys stand up for her? Thank you!!!’

Characters: Thomas Shelby x Shelby!Sister!Reader (siblings), Arthur Shelby x Shelby!Sister!Reader (siblings), John Shelby x Shelby!Sister!Reader (siblings), Finn Shelby x Shelby!Sister!Reader (siblings), Ada Shelby x Shelby!Sister!Reader (siblings), Polly Gray x Shelby!Sister!Reader (aunt)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Swearing, homophobia, bullying, crying, fluff

                                         *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Woman tutted as she watched past, instantly whispering to each other once she was out of earshot. Men would take a double glance, frowning at the woman’s attire, shaking their heads as they thought about what kind of body was hidden beneath those clothes. (Y/N) never took any notice, knowing that she stood out from the other girls. 

Besides being a Shelby, she was known for not wearing the usual attire a woman of their time would wear. Although she was mostly spotted in suits (falling in love with them after her aunt Pol had showed up in one), (Y/N) surprised those around her by slipping on a dress sometimes, but that was an extremely rare occasion. (Y/N) liked covering up, she wasn’t ashamed of her body, it was just that this was comfier; and leering men wouldn’t ogle at her, she wouldn’t give them the chance. And round Small Heath, there were plenty of people like that.

“That’s a new one (Y/N).” Ada noticed (Y/N) in a new suit as she spotted her across the street.

(Y/N) looked up and down the road before crossing, smiling at her sister and nephew.“Indeed it is. Got a bonus on a job Tommy gave me, thought I would treat myself. Alright Karl?"

The young boy nodded, about to say something when his mother interrupted him.

“A job?!” Ada exclaimed.“Why did Tommy send you?”

“Because I’m perfectly capable. Finn’s starting to take on more jobs, and he’s only a year older than me.”

She huffed, rolling her eyes.“You’re too cocky for your own good. Speaking of the other baby in the family, have you sorted out Finn's birthday present?"

(Y/N) ignored her sister's comment."I have actually! So you are going to be there tomorrow night, at the Garrison?"

"Yes, why do you sound surprised?"

(Y/N) shrugged."Just heard you and Tommy arguing the other day."

"Oh, that was Tommy being an idiot."

"So nothing out of the ordinary?"

Ada laughed."Nope."

"I'm not allowed to go." Karl huffed.

"What?" (Y/N) acted surprised."Why not? It won't be a party if you're not there?"

Ada sighed."Don't encourage him."

"And with that being said, I need to head off. See you tomorrow night Ada, bye Karl!"

She winked at them as she walked away, cheekily smiling to herself when she saw her sister's disgruntled face. She was glad that she wasn't a parent yet, it looked far too stressful.

The day of her brother's birthday had arrived. (Y/N) still lived with her aunt, but left the house early that morning to visit Finn in his new flat. It wasn't the most glamorous place, you would be surprised to find out a Shelby was living in such a place; nevertheless, he was still lucky to have a place of his own. With his presents in her arms, she passed women coming back from a night of working the corner, a few homeless man, and those leaving for work, but she kept a smile on her face. Finn wasn't expecting her, and she knew she was way too excited for his birthday.

Walking down the hall, she was almost at his door when she heard the woman she just passed by mumble something. (Y/N) would have ignored it if the woman didn't continue staring at her.

"Can I help you?" (Y/N) boldly said. She was never afraid to call out someone.

This woman was older, she must have been around Polly's age. She looked away, sighing before speaking."I just don't understand you people."

"'You people'?"

"Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about. You women, if I should even call you that...women that enjoy the company of other women."

"Are you calling me a homosexual?"

"It's pretty obvious isn't it?"

"Do you know who you're talking to?"

"Look, I was minding my own business-"

"But you weren't, were you? You decided to make a comment about me under your breath instead of keeping it in your little head."

She scoffed."Oh, there's that attitude, not surprising whatsoever."

"Fuck off you old bat." (Y/N) knocked on Finn's door, praying that he would answer soon.

"Hope you're not seeing some young man, wouldn't want to disappoint him."

"Didn't I already tell you to fuck off?"

Just as she finished her sentence, Finn opened the door, looking confused as to why his sister was there and what was going on. He leaned against the door frame as the woman walked away, glancing down to see (Y/N)'s scowling face.

"Bringing trouble into my neighbourhood?" Finn mumbled, rubbing his eyes from tiredness.

"No, your neighbours are just twats. Anyway, happy birthday!" she exclaimed the last part of her sentence, shoving the presents into his hands.

He stumbled back into his flat, managing to shut the door after (Y/N) let herself in.“Uh, thanks. What are you doing here?”

“Coming to wish my brother a happy birthday?” she sarcastically replied, disappearing into the kitchen before returning with a bottle of whiskey.“And to make sure he starts the day off right!”

“You’ve definitely started to pick up on Tommy’s bad habits.”

Although she was having a good time with Finn, (Y/N) couldn’t stop thinking about the comments made about her. Of course it wasn’t the first time, but she noticed more and more people openly staring or saying something. It was confusing to her as people new who she was, they knew what family she was apart of; she could get them beaten up or even killed. So where had the confidence come from? And why were they even saying anything in the first place? However she wasn’t going to let that show, and she certainly wouldn’t let it effect Finn’s birthday, especially since they were enjoying drinking at such an early hour.

Finn had a suspicion that they would end up in the Garrison that evening, even if there wasn’t an actual party being thrown. He let his sister take him out to a nice restaurant, buy him more presents (though he didn’t mind that when they turned up at the suit shop she frequently visited, they knew how to tailor), and he pretended he didn’t notice there was an edge to her that day. He had seen how easily she flipped her emotions off, though he had also seen the anger and hurt as he opened the door. (Y/N) was a tough Shelby, she would feel belittled if he tried to help her, despite his brotherly instinct desperate to take over.

(Y/N) was awful at acting casual as they approached the Garrison. Finn bluntly told her that he knew people would be waiting for him inside, she profusely denied that, her mouth hurting from trying to suppress a grin. Theatrically opening the doors (that was due to how drunk she already was), Finn flinched as everyone inside cheered, screaming ‘happy birthday’. It was mostly drunk punters who were probably promised free drinks if they acted like they cared, but that didn’t matter to Finn. His brothers, sisters, in-laws, aunt and friends were there. He was handed a glass of whiskey from John, a hard slap on the back following. 

“See?” (Y/N) slurred from beside him.“I told you there was a surprise!”

“(Y/N), you told me there wasn’t a surprise.” he reminded her, feeling lighter but he wasn’t at the same level as (Y/N).

She pouted as she thought.“Oh. Well, cheers!”

(Y/N) concentrated on Finn, gripping onto her glass and keeping her focus on the story he was telling, not the group of people clearly talking about her. There were men and women squeezing into a booth, not so subtly pointing, glaring and chatting away about how she looked and acted. (Y/N) was leaning against the bar just as any other man would, hand in a trouser pocket with the other holding her beer. Apparently it was most entertaining to gossip about her.

“Excuse me?” one of the girls had approached her when she was alone.

(Y/N) sighed, looking down into her drink.“Yes?”

“We were just wondering why you dress like that?”

(Y/N) frowned, a tiny part of her hoping they were being serious.“What?” 

“We just don’t know how you could wear something like that? Have you not seen some of the beautiful dresses out there? Seriously, a suit does nothing for your figure.”

(Y/N) scoffed, slamming her drink down on the bar.“And what if I don’t want to show my figure?”

“You should.”

“Why?”

“It might be the only thing going for you if you don’t change how you hold yourself.”

“I suggest you go sit back down.” (Y/N) sneered as she began to turn away when some men started hollering.

“Don’t bother the gentleman!”

“The lad is just trying to enjoy a drink!”

“Sorry mate, women am I right?”

They all found themselves hilarious, erupting into laughter as the girls returned. People around them would glance back and forth, waiting for the show to start; what would the Shelby’s do about this? Instead, (Y/N) couldn’t find the strength to stay there and ignore it, storming out of the pub and down the street. Her breath was shaky as she sobbed, unable to hold it in. Her hands fumbled with the keys to the house, slamming the door shut and heading to where the alcohol was kept. She groaned when she didn’t find whiskey, settling for gin and collapsing into the arm chair. As if it were water, (Y/N) drank away, cheeks soaked with tears, wiping her nose with the back of her jacket sleeve, ugly noises escaping her as she let it all out. It was only now that she felt how much emotion she had been building up and holding in; now that she was crying, it was all too overwhelming.

“(Y/N)?” Polly called out as the front door opened.

Polly quickly headed towards the sounds of crying, sympathetically sighing when she saw her niece in such a state. Taking away the gin, she knelt down to eye level with the girl, lifting her face by the chin to make sure she was listening. Tommy and John followed, standing back as they let Polly take the lead. 

“What happened?” she demanded to know, though her tone was soft.

“I just don’t understand.” (Y/N) loudly whined.“Why are people so hateful? They don’t have to fucking say anything!”

Alright, alright,“ Polly calmed her,“they disrespected you?”

“Yes! They even came up to me and made a scene, and there was some old bitch from this morning. Why do people hate the way I dress?! How does it effect them?! IT’S NONE OF THEIR BUSINESS!” she screamed the last part.

“(Y/N),” Tommy said,“what other people think, it doesn’t fucking matter. But if it upsets you this much, you need to tell us.”

“Yeah, we need to give them a reminder about who their talking to.” John smirked.

“You don’t hate the way I dress, do you?” (Y/N) asked much more quietly.

“Of course not. You’re our (Y/N).” Polly reassured her.“You’re (Y/N) Shelby, you do whatever the fuck you want. You’re royalty here.”

“(Y/N), we’re going to walk back in there like nothing happened, because it didn’t. It was just a bunch of drunk twats running their mouths.” Tommy said.

John chuckled.“And you know what we’ll do if they start anything else.”

(Y/N) felt nervous as they headed back to the Garrison. Her brothers and aunt walked in before her, and she heard the atmosphere die down as people realised they had returned. (Y/N) expected the noise level to rise once they got their drinks, until she saw Arthur standing up on a chair.

“Oi! All of you listen up!” he shouted, everyone going silent and looking at him.“This ‘ere,” he pointed to (Y/N),“is my baby sister. I fucking love her! And if any of you disrespect her in any way, you will be banned from this pub! Not only that, but you will be hunted down by the Peaky Blinders, and you don’t want to know what we do to people who go against our family!”

(Y/N) smiled at her eldest brother, knowing that he was drunk too, but Arthur still meant every word. Once the tension left, the music and chatter became loud again. He clumsily got down, slinging an arm around her shoulders.

“How was that?”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.” (Y/N) giggled.

“It was all true, we all love you. Don’t give a fuck what you wear.”

“Thank you, I’ve got the best family ever.”

“Too fuckin’ right.”

[reidsmissmatchedsocks]

sexuality headcanons for the bau!!

hotch - this man screams bisexual to me and i dont even know why. he just gives off the vibe. i feel like he has a preference for women but still very much loves men. emily was the first person he came out to (gideon had known but he found out on accident when hotch forgot to change the pronouns while talking abt an ex) since he knew he could trust her with that sort of thing after she came out to the team. shortly after haley died he decided he was tired of hiding this part of himself and came out to the rest of the bau, starting w rossi and then telling reid, morgan, garcia and jj at the same time. they were all very supportive and garcia gave him a little bi pride flag for his desk :)

emily - gayest bitch in the whole show. this woman takes wlw simping to a whole new level w the yearning shes been doing for jj for the last decade. she came out to the team very randomly while they were out at a bar. she slapped her hand on the table and said loudly, “id just like u all to know im a homosexual” and then walked out. everyone was kinda dumbfounded at first but obviously very supportive and happy she felt comfortable enough to tell them. she goes to pride every year and owns a lot of lesbian pride flags. morgan always laughs at her and teases her whenever he sees her obviously checking out someone and is happy he has someone to comfortably talk to abt girls. she gives the guys dating advice claiming shes “the master of dating women” even tho it took her over ten years to build up the courage to ask out jj. rossi finds this fact very funny

garcia - this woman is pan and u cannot tell me otherwise. fuck gender she loves everyone and is only interested in a persons amazing personality (since she prides herself on her ability to judge character) and how willing they are to flirt in public and how much they enjoy pda. garcia never really felt the need to come out assuming everyone just knew already but after emily came out she decided to keep a set of pride flags in her office and she has a pan flag on one of the walls plus an array of different pan themed things. one day rossi asked what the flag was for and she went in detail explaining different sexualities, flags and the significance. she finds the history super interesting and loves going to pride. she also wheres a little pan pride button on her shirts everyday because she thinks it looks nice :D

morgan - bisexual man. do i have to say any more? he never really came out but after seeing him flirt w enough guys while they were out everyone got the point. has a mini pride flag on his desk he got from garcia and a matching flag pin he wears on his shirts most days. he goes to pride w garcia and spencer every year

rossi - unlabled!! hes mostly had relationships w women but that doesnt mean exclusively. he likes men sometimes and has had relationships w them in the past but hes not quite sure which label fits him and thats okay!! hes never specifically stated his preference or sexuality to any of the others but they wouldnt be surprised if he got a bf, moreso surprised he got into a relationship at all

reid - biromantic demisexual!!! it took reid a long time to figure himself out, getting bullied a lot through school w various slurs thrown at him every day not helping. once he was in college he started to realize his attraction to both men and women and it scared him. he also felt like he was wrong for not wanting hookups or flings, he couldn’t understand the appeal. he pushed away a lot of his feelings, too scared of judgement from other people. that changed when he got to the bau tho, he had a family who loved and. supported him and he started to realize maybe it wasnt just him who felt this way. he ended up opening up to garcia after finding out shes pan and she lets him no they love him no matter what and theres nothing wrong w him. she helps him explore labels until he figures out which ones fit and gives him advice on coming out. he comes out to morgan first, hotch soon after, then emily, jj and rossi. they all are super supportive and loving ofc and reassure him that nothing can change their feelings towards him. theyre family.

jj - jj is bisexual!! she is obviously in love w emily but she also was in love w will for a long time. she never came out to the team officially but they all knew and she kept small bi pride things around her office. shes generally less of a gay mess than the rest of them but she definitely has her moments. she goes to pride every couple years w emily and sometimes hotch if they can convince him to tag along. she figured it out at a young age and never rlly doubted her feelings, just being happy w herself. she loves herself and her identity

[ffamranxii]

Hello! Here from Ao3 :) (@bokashi is my side blog)

As mentioned in a comment on your iwaoi story, which ships do you see as legitimately being canon? (a link for the silly geese who haven't read it yet)

For me, I honestly think bokuaka could be canon (we just need the confirmation </3). But for like iwaoi (I get really intense friendship vibes, but like so unabashedly proud and happy to be friends with the other person in canon) or kuroken (maybe like a heather situation, where one of them is in love, but the other isn't; but also, they really teeter on the edge for me) or other ships (I could go on forever), it's a bit more up in the air for me. I indulge and thoroughly enjoy all ship content, but I try to separate the two worlds of fandom and canon too.

I also think it's really easy to enjoy shipping. They're fictional men (thinking manga timeskip here), so it's kind of hard to self-ship (for me), but I want them to be happy in the romance department. Plus, when there are so few women and non-binary people in the show, naturally that shipping is gonna happen between *the bois*. (Although, based on all of the content we get, even with women, I'd still ship them all with their teammates.)

So yeah, I'm really curious about your thoughts on this jumbled mess about shipping and canon vs fanon, etc! Really enjoying your content, thanks for replying to my comments! :)

Hiiiii! Ffamran is a sideblog too, I followed bokashi on my hiatused chibimonkey main.

So tbh, given Japan’s general stance on homosexuality *side eye intensifies* I’d have to say regretfully nobody could be legitimately canon except Tanaka/Kiyoko the token heteroship. HOWEVER, some mangaka (looking at you, CLAMP and Yamaguchi Tsubasa!) dgaf about heteronorms and have written gorgeous and CANON LGBTQ+ characters, so it’s within the realm of possibility that Furudate-sensei intended some of her characters to be gay and maybe her editor or the magazine said “uh, fuck no?” because, I mean, have you READ the manga? Some of it’s pretty fucking gay.

My top 5 ships are the ones I could most likely see being canon: daisuga, iwaoi, kuroken, asanoya, and bokuaka. I’d also add kagehina to that. The evidence is just THERE.

Daichi and Suga are VERY close. They’re always shown together, were introduced together, have been referred to by Furudate-sensei as Karasuno’s parents, Daichi talks Suga up a ton, Suga is very physical with Daichi especially, etc etc. In one panel of the manga, Suga is literally slapping Daichi’s ass. (Under the #ffamran reads manga tag.) Like what? But they’re also the least in your face on this list.

Asanoya is just... a lot of what daisuga is but more obvious. Also introduced as a duo, usually around each other, physical, etc. Noya ONLY sets for Asahi (though once in the anime he set for Tanaka) - that’s HUGE. He learned to do this crazy fucking technique all to better ASAHI. He refuses to play without Asahi. At the very least, Noya is bisexual and has a thing for Asahi. PLUS they travel the GODDAMN WORLD together at the end of the manga.

Iwaoi might as well be official. There’s the whole Iwaizumi milk bread thing (like SERIOUSLY, how much more do you NEED?), the nicknames/name-calling/teasing, the constant touching, the complete trust and connection. Oikawa relies overtly on Iwa, and Iwa is constantly checking on and reassuring him. These two blatantly love each other.

Kuroken is another where at least one of them has a thing for the other. Kuroo is SMITTEN with Kenma. He’s constantly taking care of him, checking on him, monitoring his comfort. When he, Kai, and Yaku are discussing Kenma, Kuroo’s face is just so in LOVE with this fucking boy. Kenma is up in the air - he’s not as expressive as Kuroo, or as emotional. He keeps his feelings firmly inside. But I’d say it’s safe to assume he cares very deeply for Kuroo and loves him, and it’s a 50/50 toss up if it’s romantic love.

Bokuaka. Bro. At first I was gonna say “ehhhhh, it’s probably wishful thinking on our part,” but then I remembered: Akaashi decided to attend Fukurodani SOLELY because he saw Bokuto play. Bokuto honed the fuck in on him the day they met and basically staked his claim. These two embody the love at first sight trope and they are comfortably settled in a serious relationship. Why else does Akaashi know him so well, and vice versa? Akaashi made and MEMORIZED a list of Bokuto’s weaknesses, and knows exactly how to get him out of every slump, and Bokuto is intrinsically aware of when Akaashi’s at his limit, and pushes past his own weaknesses to support him at that time. Out of everyone, these two are the most likely to have started their relationship before the manga.

Kagehina. I watched the first episode (I saw the anime before I read the manga) and I distinctly remember my overall impression was “these two are gonna fuck, aren’t they?” They’re dumb. They’re SO fucking dumb, and I respect Furudate-sensei SO MUCH for making both her protagonists stupid as fuck. These two would be a vicious slow burn. They don’t get together during the manga. They’re too busy competing with each other. Their flirting is competition. They’re SO into each other beyond a normal friendly rivalry but they both think it’s just a friendly rivalry because they’re SO DUMB.

Honorable mention to Tsukiyama, because while these two are easy to write off as just good friends, there are very subtle hints that they may be more than, the biggest being Tsukki’s distaste if anyone but Yamaguchi calling him Tsukki (and Yamaguchi hates when other people say it too) and their “tough love” type of support for each other. They seem to be a very private couple, if they were intended as such.

Also: Yachi. Yachi is CLEARLY a lesbian.

It could also be argued that Ushiten was hinted at being canon, since Tendou clearly loves Ushiwaka. It’s not a ship I like but I very easily see why it’s a popular ship. I think I posted about it before somewhere, but the tl;dr of it is Tendou is ALL OVER Ushiwaka. Supports him 1000% in the face of anyone and everyone, clings to him (not physically, but like... emotionally?) at school, and just everything he does is FOR Ushiwaka. Like, did Ushiwaka even have friends before Tendou started talking to him? And Ushiwaka softens around Tendou, becomes more human and likeable. He doesn’t act that way around anyone else. They might just be the bromance to end all bromances, or one of them has a crush, or maybe they do love each other - their relationship is ambiguous in that regard. But I will add: Ushiwaka did fly all the way to France to see Tendou, and I don’t see anyone else (except Asanoya) making worldwide trips for each other.

[msjr0119]

Forgive me

A mini series, includes suicide and abuse.

Based on true events but using TRR characters who are owned by Pixelberry.

Using usual tags let me know if you want to be removed...

@annekebbphotography @burnsoslow @drakesensworld @ladyangel70 @kingliam2019 @bbrandy2002 @butindeed @bascmve01 @drakewalker04 @pedudley @captain-kingliamsqueen @duchessemersynwalker @insideamirage @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @kozabaji @texaskitten30 @ibldw-main @kimmiedoo5 @nikkis1983 @dangerouseggseagleartisan @gnatbrain @walker7519 @lodberg @cmestrella @hopefulmoonobject @addictedtodrakefanfic @angi15h @liamxs-world @rafasgirl23415 @notoriouscs @yukinagato2012

****

Liam Rhys the Crown prince of Cordonia, had hesitantly agreed to his friends plans about visiting New York for his bachelor party. His brother, the former Crown Prince had recently moved to New York but Liam hadn’t kept in touch with him. They were close as children, but since his abdication they became more like strangers. Leo returned to Cordonia as and when he liked. Walking around the city, Liam thought about his brother; wondering what he was doing, wondering if he was married, had kids, had a job. Wondering if he was happy living the life he could do. If his paths crossed with his older brother he could quite easily throttle the playboy who thought more about his dick than his royal responsibilities.

Drake Walker had chosen quite possibly the most run down dive bar he could find to start the nights events off.

“Welcome to the states, your highness. Nothing beats alcohol and greasy food...”

Liam sighed, he didn’t even want to be here- he didn’t even want to be the Prince anymore. Walking through the doors, this really was a dive bar- it was empty and quiet. The bar stools looked as if they would potentially snap if you lent on it, covered in dust.

“Where’s the music?” Exclaimed Max feeling disappointed- he loved music and to dance. This place felt like they were in a morgue.

“Forget the music! Waiter!” Drake clicked his fingers. The waiter ambled up towards the men forcing a fake smile.

“Yes Sir. What can I get ya?” Daniel asked politely, whilst checking his watch. Hoping they wouldn’t be indecisive regarding their order.

“Four deluxe burgers and a bottle of whiskey.”

“Yes sir, my colleague will bring your drinks shortly as I have finished my shift.”

*****

The men looked over at the waiting staff, the waiter that had taken their original order was just leaving- he kissed a girl on the cheek before he left. The four men’s eyes all fixated on the beautiful goddess stood in front of them.

Turning around with a bottle of whiskey and four tumbles- Riley locked eyes with the four men. No it can’t be. Gulping, as if she had seen a ghost- she failed to realise that the items had slipped out of her hands. Her feet covered in a whiskey residue.

“So what’s your family and closest friends like? Will I ever meet them?”

“I’d rather you not meet them. They are a bunch of misfits. A bunch of hypocrites too apart from Li my kid brother. He’s the kindest man alive and will be the perfect king for our country. He’s loyal too. He has these sparkly baby blues that will swoon anyone.”

“So do you. Although you’re a flirt. I don’t think he’s like that is he?”

“Deep down I think he probably is. But he is an expert using his stoic expressions. If you ever met him you’ll understand. You’d probably fall in love with him too.” Riley laughed, she does fall in love easily but she wasn’t ready to commit to anyone in this situation.

“What about your friends then? I’ve heard about all your family now.”

“Well there’s Liam’s best friend, Drake Walker. He’s a miserable bastard- always sulking, whiskey in hand, he’s handsome don’t get me wrong. But he’s not the type admit feelings. He’s had a tough life.”

“Miserable bastard- I think you’re overreacting?”

“No I’m not. He will stand in the corner of the room at events people watching. I just think he needs to let his hair down and get laid. Then there’s Lord Maxwell...”

“A snooty Lord?”

“No, he’s quite the opposite. He’s a kid at heart- hyper at times. He’s cute in a way. Puppy dog eyes all the time- he’s the spare heir and constantly gets criticised but honestly Ri, he is the most kind hearted person I know. He’s friendly and outgoing - everyone instantly loves him. Then there’s Tariq...”

“Is he a snooty Lord? Come on, there’s got to be some snob in your friend ship group.”

“Oh yes! He’s a snob all right. I avoided him at all costs. You’d recognise him walking down the street- he pays an extortionate price for clothes and shoes. He’s worse than women. He will only order expensive food and wine.”

******

“Riley! Clean it up now!” Her manager snapped at her- making her jump and come out of her trance.

The men heard the glass smash and immediately stared at the waitress who looked shocked. Liam stood up, walking towards her- he bent down and helped her pick up the glass.

“Are you okay... miss?”

“Er, Riley. I’ll get you guys another bottle of whiskey. I’ll pay- it’s on the house.”

“No need. I can afford to buy them both.” Of course you can- shit it really is them. Tears began to form in her eyes, returning to the bar- watching the four men she realised Leo’s descriptions were true. How could she tell them the truth? The tragic accident that occurred three months ago. Her heart was breaking once more.

“I’ll be right back Liam.” Liam looked at her confused as to how she knew his name, as she turned her back on him. Returning to the table- he provided a bewildered expression and remained silent.

“Please tell me you’re not falling for the waitress?”

“Drake... she knew my name. She said Liam. How does she know my name?”

“Er she probably overheard us... the nosey bitch.”

Liam nodded, still not believing she overheard them- the distance between them and the bar was too far.

“I’m so sorry for the delay, here are your drinks. Your food will shortly be here.”

“Thank you, Riley. How do you know my name?”

Shit. It slipped out of my mouth

“She’s a crown chaser Liam - obviously.” Drake snapped, assuming she knew about cordonia.

“Obviously I am Drake Walker. You’re an arsehole! I’m surprised you’re not hiding in the corner sulking.”

Maxwell burst out laughing uncontrollably, confused at how she described Drake to a t but it was funny seeing Drake’s eyebrows raise.

“How would you describe me then?” Maxwell smiles, giddy wondering how the friendly stranger would describe him.

“The spare heir Lord Maxwell. Friendly, outgoing- a kid at heart. And Lord Tariq you’re just a snob. Now we’ve done the introductions I better return to work. Enjoy your night gentlemen.”

“This is crazy! She knows all about us.” Drake stated, his jaw still agape with the rude attitude the waitress had towards him.

Liam stood up from the table- he wondered how she knew this information. If she had researched Cordonia- she wouldn’t be able to describe their personalities.

“Can we talk?”

“Sure. You’ll have to follow me around though.”

“So how do you know us all? I’m intrigued.”

“I don’t know any of you. But we had a mutual friend.”

Had? I don’t know anyone in New York apart from....

“Who?” Liam questioned hoping that it was his ignorant brother.

“Leo.” Riley managed to say his name, her chin trembling ever so slightly.

“That explains it. How is my brother? Have you spoken to him recently? I haven’t heard from him in over three months.” Liam snarled in a sarcastic manner.

“Liam, come and sit with me. I’ll get you a drink- you’ll need it.”

Walking back over to the bar, the other men watched the interaction- assuming Liam was trying to ‘pull’ the waitress. Riley handed him a scotch, holding his hand- her eyes began to water.

“So... Erm...” Riley bit her lip. Not knowing how this conversation was going to elaborate.

“Did you know the real reasoning behind Leo’s abdication?”

“Of course. He said he wanted to find love and not have the crowns responsibilities.”

“The truth is....He found love. And... your father found out. He was furious. Erm. Oh god Liam. I don’t know how to tell you.”

“Just fucking tell me Riley!” The other three men overhead Liam unexpectedly swear and shout at the stranger. It was out of character for the Prince. They all stormed over to the bar. Riley began crying uncontrollably, Drake had never seen Liam make a woman cry before- usually they would kiss him, especially if they knew his true identity.

“Leo.. I was married to him. We have a son.”

“So why was my father furious? Because you had a child out of wedlock? He abdicated so what did it matter? I have a nephew?”

“Yes, he’s called Lucas- he’s 1 next Saturday. Our marriage was a sham. Liam- he abdicated because he was homosexual. He found love with a man- I was the fake part of his life. Your father knew about me and Lucas but found out the truth on an impromptu trip here. Leo... he ... he couldn’t take living a lie anymore. Your father and Regina disowned him. Constantine told him ‘you are not my son, you never will be’ before slapping him across the face. Three months ago....Leo took his own life.”

[gold-from-straw]

Divergence - ch5

Sorry this is late!! I had a shite weekend! This chapter includes Erik being super protective and angry and angsty... TW for hints of past suicidal ideation at the very end. I hope you enjoy though!!

Read from the beginning on AO3 if you prefer!

They gathered together in one of the living rooms, all eyes on the three Charleses (Charlesen? What plural could possibly work here?) together on the couch. Raven in particular couldn’t stop staring at the two newcomers.

“Where do you think they came from, Professor?” Alex asked.

“Hopefully Hank will be able to answer that,” Charles said, forcing a smile.

Hank pushed his glasses up on his nose and peered down at the readout on his device. “It’s fascinating, they both seem to have slightly different isotopic balances. Almost like they’ve come from different universes.”

Sean shook his head. “Woah. Time travelling from a different universe, man.”

“I should be able to work out a way to send them back soon enough,” said Hank, smiling up at the Charlesen, who all nodded sagely.

“Send them back?” demanded Erik. “Why on Earth would you do that?”

The room was silent for a moment. Hank cleared his throat. “Well, they are children. They’ve got to be sent back to their parents.”

“So they can be treated like that?” Erik gestured sharply at teenage Charles’ face. “No. Absolutely not.”

“Erik,” said Charles softly, looking up at him.

Why didn’t you tell me? Erik asked, directly into Charles’ mind. You let me mock you for growing up here when you had to endure… this!

“Really, Erik?” Charles said aloud, glaring at him. “You expect me to bother you, of all people, with the… the insignificant hurts of my childhood?”

Erik huffed and gestured to the teenager’s face again. “You call this insignificant?”

Charles turned to his younger self, his brow crinkling up in distress. “No, I…! Oh, I’m sorry, I never...” He sighed and closed his eyes, biting his lip.

“It’s OK,” said young Charles softly.

“No… no, it’s not,” said Charles, cupping the boy’s cheek and looking at the mess of his face. “It’s not OK at all.” He huffed something like a laugh. “It’s… easier to be compassionate with you than with myself. I’m sorry.”

“I’m with Erik here,” said Sean, and Erik raised his eyebrows in surprise. “But if you two stay, we’re gonna have to think of new names for all of you. I’ve been calling you Baby Charles and Young Charles in my head and it’s not working out for me.”

Erik rolled his eyes, but everyone else laughed, clinging to anything to relieve the tension. “And what are you calling me, dare I ask?” Charles said.

“Professor,” replied Sean promptly.

Charles laughed again. “Well, I’m fine with that.”

“I’m not calling you Professor,” Erik said. The others laughed once more, and Erik let them, but he was serious. He wasn’t happy about calling either of the children Charles either, not when that name had come to mean the only good part of the world to him, encompassing frustration and debate, admiration and the deepest, yearning love.

He heard the slight gasp and looked up to see the teenager staring at him, wide eyed and pink cheeked.

Shit. Obviously Charles developed his morals a little older than that.

The boy hunched slightly, and Charles - Erik’s Charles (even if he never truly would be Erik’s…) took the boy’s hand with a worried glance.

“N-nothing,” the boy said, then gulped and flushed again as he realised he’d answered a telepathic question out loud. He looked around at the roomful of people. “Uh, I don’t mind being called Francis. It’s my - our - middle name.”

“Can I be Arthur?” asked the smallest Charles, jumping up and down in his seat. “Like in the Sword in the Stone, he--” Then he froze, and looked around warily. “That is… if I’m allowed?” He hunched his shoulders. “I suppose I wouldn’t be a very good king, not like Arthur.”

“You’d be an amazing King Arthur,” said Raven firmly. Her voice sounded strangled.

Little Charles - Arthur - sat up straight again and beamed at her. Charles smiled down at him fondly, and Erik looked away from him before he started projecting his emotions to anyone else. He cleared his throat and caught Francis’ eye. “Come on,” he said, jerking his head to the side. “I’ll teach you to throw a punch.”

“Erik, no!” Charles cried. “He’s only a boy!”

“A boy who’s having the crap beaten out of him on a regular basis, by the look of it,” Erik said. He started walking out, and Charles scrambled to catch him.

“Erik, please. Look, if he is going to be staying here, he won’t have to worry about Kurt, so you don’t need to--”

“There’s more than one bastard in the world,” Erik said. He stopped suddenly and glared down at Charles, trying to forget that he wanted nothing more than to gather this impossible, beautiful man up, with his ridiculous hair and stupid hidden hurts, and fold him close. Pretend Erik could be soft for him. Lovable.

He swallowed it all down. “You know, at a certain point, pacifism isn’t a moral stance, Charles. It’s just a word a battered boy uses to fool himself into thinking he’s got a choice. Turning the other cheek doesn’t count if someone’s holding your face.”

Charles looked broken for an instant before his face closed off. Immediately, Erik regretted all of it. “Charles,” he said, reaching for him, but Charles pushed past.

And there, right behind him, cowering close to the wall, was Francis.

“Did you hear all of that?”

Francis’ eyes darted here and there, but he nodded once, sharply.

Erik sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He could feel Francis’ distress rolling off him in waves, and for a moment he seriously considered walking away, letting someone more qualified than him find the boy and fix the mess he’d made. “Come on,” he said at last. “I promised you a lesson.”

Francis hesitated, then trotted after Erik. In the gym, he turned to the boy and strapped a pair of knuckle gloves on his hands. “Right. Let’s see you throw a punch.” He gestured to the nearest punch bag.

Francis glanced up at him, took a couple of shallow breaths, then swung wildly at the bag, his floppy brown hair falling over his scrunched up eyes.

“Hurts, hmm?” Erik said, raising an eyebrow.

Francis hunched slightly. “N-no, sir.”

“The way you just hit the bag, I’m amazed you haven’t broken a thumb. Here.” He pulled Francis’ glove back off. “Bend your knuckles one, then two, then put your thumb on the outside. No, not there, those big knuckles are the part you hit with. Down across the second knuckles, that’s it.” He held Francis’ wrist and slapped the flat of his fist. “Remember that, yes?”

“One, two, three,” said Francis, opening and closing his hand.

Erik replaced the glove and held out his hand, forming a fist as he’d just shown the boy. “Remember - one, two, three. No more loose fists. Now, try again.”

Francis punched the bag. “Good,” said Erik. “Again. And again. Again.”

Francis threw punch after punch at the bag, until his hair was lying lank and sweaty against his forehead. “We’ll leave it there for today,” Erik said, unwrapping Francis’ gloves again. The boy sagged in relief, and Erik chuckled. “Go get a drink and a shower.”

Francis turned to the door, then hesitated. “Do you really feel that way about him? About us, I suppose?”

Erik gritted his teeth and looked at Francis. Why couldn’t he just let it go? Francis hunched again. “Sorry, sorry, I’ll just…”

“Just him,” Erik said gruffly. “You’re from a different world. You’re not him. And more than that, you’re sixteen, you’re a child. Whatever you overhear of my feelings for him, they’re no threat to you.” He frowned. “Or him, of course, but--”

“I didn’t think that! I just…” he swallowed and wrung the blazer in his hands. “I was just… is he? Homosexual?”

“I don’t--”

“Because I think I…” Francis sniffed and looked down, then visibly steeled himself. “I think… there’s a boy in my school and I--”

Erik groaned. He was not made for these kinds of conversations! “I don’t know, Francis, you’d have to ask him.”

“But what if… what if we’re different? That way? What if I’m just a… a freak, and he’s disgusted by me - or what if he’s ashamed of the way I think - the way he was?”

Erik put both hands on Francis’ shoulders. “No, Charles is nothing like that. He would never make you feel that way.”

Francis bit his lip and his chin wobbled. Erik sighed. “If you like, I’ll have a word with him first. Let him know how much it means to you, that he accepts you?”

Francis shook his head violently. “Then he’ll know… he might be sick of me because I’m so pathetic and needy… and--”

“Hey, hey!” Erik squeezed his shoulders, embarrassment and exasperation with the conversation fading away to concern. “You’re none of those things, you hear me? Now, would you say those things - or even think them - about your younger self? About Arthur?”

Francis shook his head, tears sliding down his cheeks. Erik tugged him into a hug. “Then you have nothing to worry about from Charles. You won’t have changed that much in ten years.”

He held Francis as he wept quietly, and wondered if the same could be said of him. If his sixteen-year-old self would recognise him, or if he’d be terrified of him. If he’d be proud of all he’d achieved, or still wish he’d died in the camps.

I have a permanent tag list for this, if you’d like to be added please let me know! Otherwise I just add people who interacted with the last chapter! Thank you <3 @insertmeaningfulusername, @mathmusicreading, @colonelsebbiemoran, @ethanstcoulson, @gerec, @kungpao-giffy, @mnemo-ink, @writing-with-melon, @melonreblogsstories, @these-maginot-lines, @unluvablemisfit, @fullmetalcarer, @lyricfulloflight, @marveltrashblog, @ketchavies-thoorrrr666, @ketch-em-all, @cheeseplatypusandiceskates, @threecheer, @like-a-never-ending-rainstorm, @princ3ss-of-the-m00n, @kernezelda, @thepaintingsafake, @askprofessorx, @kaeden4, @akasanata, @st4rprinc3ss, @suriya-12, @thechaoticwave

[hptruefan-cheekytorah]

Nano-vember | The Glue

Part XIX

Tag List: @drarryruinedme7 @keyflight790 @cassiaratheslytherpuff @dewitty1 @hdanalyst @moose-1967 @slytherin-queen07 @maltters

Thank you to the very wonderful @keyflight790 for Beta Reading this story! ❤️❤️

If anyone else would like to be tagged for updates please let me know!

The Glue Masterlist

~*~

“Really, darling, I think you might be going soft.”

“Fuck you, Pans,” Draco snapped and sunk deeper in to her soft cream leather couch, relishing in the extravagance and the comfort.

He hated going to his parents for longer than a couple hours. Always forced to endure conversations with the poshest connections Lucius Malfoy could muster up after his fall from societies approving eye.

Which was to say, those connections were far lower than Lucius had ever deigned to associate with before. It was amusing to say the least, watching his father biting his tongue every few moments, when his guests made social blunders like elbows on the table or bringing up topics one ought not talk about in polite company. Though, Draco didn't like the topics his father always seemed to enjoy most: marriage, Pureblood traditions and, of course, as a slap in the face to Draco, the blasphemy of public homosexuality.

So when he finally escaped Sunday afternoon with Pansy, he sighed in utter relief. That is, until she proved to be not much better company.

“No, really, Draco. You and Potter; all this cuddling and sweet words. It makes me want to upchuck my lunch.”

“You’re just jealous that you don’t get regular sex.”

“Oh, regular sex isn’t the issue. My partners just can’t seem to make up their minds.”

“Partners?”

Pansy cackled. She thrummed her long pointed nails on her leather skirt, but she worried her bottom lip, the only sign she was unsure, or insecure. Draco could see the dark shadows under her eyes and sadness in the dark of her irises.

“I’ve been sleeping with a couple quite regularly for the past six months. Or I was until a month ago. She told me privately, the last time, that she thinks she might be falling in love with me and he just about broke a blood vessel when I told him. I couldn’t not,” She sighed and pulled at the hem of her skirt. “I wasn’t supposed to get invested in their marriage. Really I should call the entire thing off.”

“And he doesn’t feel the same?”

“Darling, this man is so in love with his wife,” Pansy rolled her eyes. “It would be painful, if I didn’t almost understand.”

“Right, almost,” Draco mocked and then he grinned. “You couldn’t possibly get it, you’d have to have real feelings to understand that.”

“Precisely,” She smiled, though Draco could see it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “And I don’t. I would never let myself blur the lines of casual sex. Completely not my style. That’s for plebians and underagers.”

Draco slid his arm around her shoulders and pulled her face into the crook of his neck. She trembled in his arms and he smoothed her hair. She was hurting, he could tell, and all he wanted to do was make it better but he couldn’t. This was something she’d have to figure out on her own.

“What harm could there be in-”

“I think he would leave her, and her marriage, their kids, their families; all of that means more to her than what could be with me.” Pansy sniffed and quickly wiped her cheeks as she pulled away and rose to her feet. “Besides, I’m not confident I could share her with someone, if I couldn’t be with them in the same way.”

Draco followed her into her kitchenette just to the left of her sitting room. She began rummaging through her cupboards for cups and tea bags, and flicked her wand at the kettle. Soon she had two steaming cups of aromatic Earl Grey in their hands as they sat around the bar counter behind the sink. The counters were white and grey marble, striking against the light grey modern walls and the black muggle appliances in her kitchen.

“How would that even work, anyways. She couldn’t have two partners, what was she thinking telling you? This woman sounds like a selfish cow to me.”

“Draco,” Pansy said in a warning tone. “She is the farthest thing from that. And whoever told you that, and I can very much guess who, was completely and utterly wrong. You can be with as many or as few partners as you and everyone involved is comfortable with. I think it would be selfish of her husband to threaten divorce but he’s about as hot headed as I am and I might do the same thing.”

“You wouldn’t.”

She smiled sadly. “You’re right, I wouldn’t. But if I didn’t want to share I would figure out how to make the situation better, or I would walk away. I wouldn’t hold it over her head, I’d just be honest about what I was comfortable with.”

“I-” Draco paused. “I want Neville Longbottom.”

“Of course you do, darling. It’s horribly obvious.”

“Harry does too.”

“Then what’s stopping you?”

“I don’t want to just have casual sex. I don’t know what exactly I do want, but It’s not..”

“This?” She asked pointing to herself and her tears stained cheeks.

“You need to talk to them, whoever they are,” Draco said sternly. “They would both be fools to let you go. They might even already know that. Did you tell her how you felt?”

Pansy played with her fingers and looked away.

“Listen here, you god awful wench, you can’t sit there and tell me to act when you are sitting here like a pup with its tail between its legs.”

Pansy chuckled and pushed Draco’s shoulder playfully. Their cups drained, and their bellies warm, Pansy dragged Draco back into the sitting room and rested her head on his shoulder as they watched the fireplace crackle and burn.

“Salazar, help us, we have quite the thing for attractive Gryffindors.” Pansy grinned.

“Who-”

“I cannot say, love,” Pansy said softly. “When I can, you’ll be the first to know.”

NEXT

[lipstickbisous]

familiar figure┃c.m.b

i am in such a fluffy mood and i wouldn’t really consider this fluff but it’s cute...? also i have completely swerved now whoops.

summary; corbyn can’t help but fall a little bit in love with the girl who continuously yells out her opinion that no one seems to care about at a college party. 

 warnings? you might not agree with the political opinions stated in here so don’t come for me, swearing

request? nope, again lol

tags? @coolkidcorbyn @technolilly @gracenadinelimelight @splendidseavey @poutybrock @fallingforbesson @seaveyssparkle @boredombesson

the only time corbyn besson enjoyed parties was when he was six years old and they were birthday parties. whether they were his, or his sibling’s, or his friends, it didn’t matter because either way he was invited and he got free cake.

unfortunately for him, college did not work that way.

just because corbyn was friends with someone didn’t mean he was instantly invited to their party. and, much to his dismay, there was no cake. 

he knew only a few people at the party. and he couldn’t say that he was close friends with them, so for the majority of the time, he awkwardly stood with those people and did his best to remain in their conversations.

he began to feel bad. he had put so much thought and effort into his outfit for that night. he had been overthinking everything, only for him to arrive and to be that one guy who stands in a corner.

and then he had a drink.

and suddenly, he was mr. popular. he held multiple contests with other people and remained undefeated. 

the next day, everybody seemed to know his name. everybody wanted to talk to him, to sit next to him in class. multiple girls asked for his number - it was great. corbyn was now a popular person, and it was all because of one thing.

 “you coming tonight, besson?” corbyn heard his friend ask him. his eyes left the figure of the girl who sat to his left, quietly writing notes. 

you.

he shrugged. “i don’t know, jo,” jonah’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. corbyn never missed a party. he lived to hear the crowd cheering his name. then, jonah’s eyes trailed to whatever corbyn was looking at. 

her. 

“bro,” he smiled, laughing as he snapped his fingers in front of corbyn’s eyes. it brought the blonde out of his trance, but he pushed his friend’s hands out of his way. “stop staring, that’s not gonna do shit for you.”

corbyn slapped jonah’s chest. “shut up, man.” he sighed as he sat back in his seat and opened up his textbook. 

“she’ll be there, ya know,” corbyn heard daniel’s voice speak from behind him. the brunette took a seat next to corbyn. the blonde groaned as his friend purposely blocked his view of the girl. 

“really?” corbyn asked, not believing one word his friends said.

jonah nodded. “she’s friends with christina.” he winked. 

corbyn hit his chest again, this time with his textbook. “stop it.” he groaned. “i don’t talk to her anymore, i told you.”

jonah rolled his eyes and changed the subject. he looked over to his youngest friend with a bright smile. “so,” he smirked, folding his arms. “is jack going to be there tonight as well?”

daniel blushed. his cheeks turned a deep shade of red as a small smile started to spread from his lips. he shrugged while opening up his laptop. “i don’t know,” he bit his lip. “maybe.”

corbyn felt weird.

this party wasn’t like the others. yes, it was fun, it was loud, it was crazy, there were drinks. but he felt unusually uncomfortable. he was with his friends, he was around the same people. he’d heard all of the music before, tasted all of the alcohol.

it was because he was waiting for you.

well, he wasn’t waiting. he was looking for you. he couldn’t help but think of you for the rest of the day. he hadn’t heard your voice but he was sure that it was beautiful. he liked how your hair fell into your face while you took notes, even though it was up in a bun, and you would gently brush it behind your ear.

you seemed like such a gentle, shy, and beautiful person. he wanted to know you.

corbyn was currently trying to find his friends. he’d managed to enter the house with both daniel and jonah at his side, but he’d figured out that jonah had ditched him to hang out with zach. the blonde found both of them in the living room talking to two girls.

he wasn’t sure where daniel was. there were only three places in the house that the brunette could possibly be: 

1. the kitchen, getting a drink 2. the bathroom, vomiting his brains out 3. a bedroom, doing things corbyn didn’t want to think of

corbyn sighed. he couldn’t find his friend anywhere. until he heard that familiar giggle a few feet behind him. 

“jack,” he heard a light voice whisper. “stop.”

corbyn turned around to see daniel pushed up against a wall, the curly-haired boy standing in between his legs and holding him up. the two boys had their lips locked together.

“that’s gross,” the blonde whispered. he sighed and built up the strength to walk to his friend. “daniel?” he asked sternly.

daniel’s blue eyes widened when he heard his name. he gently pushed jack’s lips off of his and smiled. “hey, bub,” his cheeks blushed as jack continued to hold his waist. “what’s up?”

“where’s that girl?”

“oooh,” daniel mocked him like he was in second grade. “someone has a crush, eh?”

“shut up, man,” corbyn said, annoyed. he was annoyed with how his friends were being complete jerks. in all honesty, they weren’t being jerks at all, corbyn was just being sour. 

daniel rolled his eyes. “attitude,” he said. the brunette began to rub jack’s forearms as he spoke. “she’s with christina downstairs. in the kitchen.”

“thank you,” corbyn said, immediately running away from the two boys once he had his answer. “jesus christ, wasn’t so fucking hard.”

he searched for you. he roamed around the living room, the kitchen, the dining room, everywhere. he couldn’t find you. and he knew he’d be able to find you because you had an unforgettable face. 

he started to look for christina. as much as he didn’t want to talk to his ex that night, he’d do it if it meant he’d find you.

there she was.

the girl he used to call his. she still had her brown hair, her pretty skin. they didn’t end on bad terms, corbyn was thankful, but it was just awkward between the two. awkward to the point where they both pretended like the other one didn’t exist.

he cleared his throat as he stood behind christina. “um, chris?” he gently tapped her shoulder. her eyes were bright as she turned around until she noticed it was the familiar blonde. 

“um,” she said, gulping. she smiled uncomfortably. “hey...corbyn.”

“i had a question,” corbyn said a little quietly. he had no idea why he was suddenly so timid and shy, but it’s because he noticed your familiar figure standing next to christina. 

“what was that?” christina yelled over the loud music. she still cared for the besson boy and wished him only happiness. but corbyn still didn’t know if she’d be okay with him asking her friend out.

corbyn began to speak again, but he interrupted once he heard the yelling of the host of the party. “what do we want?” he heard him yell.

“we want more!” the crowd yelled back. corbyn winced at the sudden change in volume. he took a good look at you.

you were completely different. you had your hair in a high ponytail and he got a chance to see how long it really was. you didn’t have very much makeup on, like before, but the makeup that you did have on was dramatic and perfect. 

you looked like a bad-ass.

and corbyn wanted to know you even more.

“what do we want?” the host yelled again.

“we want more!”

but then, corbyn heard you yell. “equal pay for every woman!” he smiled as christina playfully hit your shoulder. 

this continued. and corbyn loved it. there weren’t very many people of his age that he knew was politically active. “what do we want?”

“education for young girls!”

“the acceptance of homosexuals!”

“gun violence to be controlled!”

“our fucking privacy!”

he stood against the wall, a few feet behind you, watching you in awe. you seemed so strong and so powerful. “(y/n), stop it!” christina laughed, you laughing with her. corbyn could hear it perfectly.

you had a very nice laugh. and a very nice smile. 

usually, corbyn was fast. he was quick. he had fast reflexes. so imagine the blank look he had on his face when you turned around to meet his gaze. his blue eyes froze on you, he screamed at himself to look away but he couldn’t. 

“what are you looking at, besson?” you asked with a smile.

a bad-ass. corbyn thought.

“i need to know her.”

[ladyimaginarium]

A couple of important things to point out:

Although the majority of my muses are either cis male or cis female, there are some muses who identify as agender, demiboy/demigirl, genderfluid, genderqueer, Two Spirit or simply don’t have a sex, so please don’t OOCly misgender them! Your muse can if it’s something they’d do - be it intentionally or accidentally ICly but I’ll always tag said post with tw; misgendering but don't be surprised if said muses respond to this negatively!

All of my characters, unless stated otherwise, are HIGHLY in tune with their ethnicity/culture/religion/etc. This is especially the case for my characters of color i.e Clementine, James Fairbanks, Louis, Aasim, etc. so please be aware of that and don’t be surprised if they mention something of their culture or religion or their pride in being a part of said ethnicity or culture or wearing their traditional clothing!

PLEASE DON’T IGNORE MY ORIGINAL CHARACTERS IN FAVOR OF MY CANON MUSES! I’ve worked really hard on all of them and I’d highly appreciate it if they’d get some loving too! I want them to be loved just as much as my canon muses!

James Fairbanks identifies as Two Spirit. For those of you who don’t know, the term “Two Spirit” is a term used by indigenous North Americans to describe themselves in their Native communities who fulfilled a traditional third or fourth gender ( or other gender variant ) sacred ceremonial role in their cultures - it is not the same thing as being LGBTQIA+, homosexual, bisexual, transgender, nonbinary, intersex, etc as these are all non-Native, Western terms. It is not a modern, self-chosen term of personal sexual or gender identity, but is a sacred, spiritual and ceremonial role that is recognized and confirmed by the Elders of the Two Spirit's ceremonial community. The term is strictly exclusive to indigenous Native Americans so if your muse isn’t Native American, don’t use it for your muse!

This is a multimuse blog, so whenever you send in a meme, please make sure to hint to the muse that meme is thought for. You can either put muse’s name at the start (for ex: [Momoka] or [Clementine]) or include the name of the character inside the ask (for ex: “Hey, Haruka” X said). I'm really tired of having people liking my starter calls and sending things in my inbox and never specifying who it's for. Yes, I'll pick a character randomly if that's the case but don't go around saying "I don't know how to reply!!" Just because you didn't specify.

I’m not going to bother with a million poorly slapped together ships for the sake of the muses involved “being cute” together. Ships will need to be plotted, yes, even canon ships. My muses are not going to like yours without special circumstances and an extra push from me. I’m genuinely tired of having to hold up a ship myself where I'm the one doing everything.

Some of my characters are hypersexual while others are sex repulsed due to certain backstories - please respect that. In addition, some of my more flirtatious characters can try to flirt or seduce yours but this doesn't mean I'm forcing a ship on you, it's just simply who they are as characters.

Erica is pretty much a doormat and in an emotionless state with just how much she’s been abused growing up to the point where she obeys her abusive, manipulative and cruel master’s wishes in order to receive even an ounce of his affection. I do not support this in the slightest.

Your muse can make fun of any of my muse's disabilities - physical or mental - all they want if it's something that they'd do but DO NOT BE AN ABLEIST FUCK TO THEM OOCLY!

Romance isn't everything. Just because we don't romantically ship our characters doesn't mean we can't interact. There are plenty of other relationships our muses can have ie platonic, friendships ( genuine or toxic ), partners-in-crime, allies, familial relationships ( biological or adopted ), sibling relationships, parent-child relationships, friends with benefits, exes, rivals, enemies, mentor-disciple relationships, master-apprentice relationships, guardian-guarded relationships, pen pals/internet friends ( for modern day muses ), classmates, co-workers, roommates, business partners, spy-infiltrated relationships, manipulator-manipulated, indifferent, acquaintances, master-slave/servant, deity-worshipper and a lot more!

Some muses and fandoms will be added and removed at my leisure - you’ll all know when that happens when I make an announcement.

Most of my muses are open to shipping and are multiship but there are certain muses that are NOT open to shipping due to them being taken, are aromantic ( feeling little to no romantic attraction ), are lithromantic ( muses who do not want their romantic feelings to be reciprocated ), quoriomantic ( muses who disidentifies with the concept of romance and finds it make little to no sense ), too old or too young, or said muse is single ship. With that said, most of my muses, unless stated otherwise, are single, but there can be alternate universes where said muses can have a romantic relationship with another muse. 

DO NOT FAVOR MY WHITE CHARACTERS OVER MY NON-WHITE CHARACTERS.

Some of my characters are religious in various faiths ie Christianity, Buddhism, Shintoism, Taoism, Hellenic Polytheism, Egyptian Polytheism, Vodou, animism, shamanism, paganism and traditional tribal faiths, while others are agnostic or atheists or questioning. Others practice witchcraft and occultism either in their own faiths or as eclectic witches. Keep this in mind!

I won't be tagging blood or gore anymore unless if it's excessive because the majority of the fandoms I portray have both of those.

As stated in a previous post on my Clementine blog, I’ll be removing some of my ships that never went anywhere or that became inactive or I simply don’t interact with anymore, and this will also extend to Toka's blog as well, but this will also extend to mains as well due to inactivity by over two months. Please don’t take it personally if your main/our ship gets taken off, ( honestly you shouldn’t feel offended ) it’s simply to clean up my mains and blog and make them organized.

 I care so deeply about my threads and partners that I enjoy keyboard smashing about them, so I just ask that people are equally as invested in them as I am and that I’m not some new trophy to a collection. If I feel like you are bored, annoyed, or “done” with my muse, but are too chicken to tell me, (or can’t decide what you want from me/my muse) I will just leave you be, and not tag posts or respond to things anymore. It’s simple; I am not one to play games and use muses as speaking devices for my displeasure, nor will I stick around if my muse isn’t wanted anymore. You can’t just “bookmark” or “reserve” ships for “later” either. Not interacting for weeks to months is not normal. So mixed-signal games don’t work with me anymore. Instead of causing OOC drama, I will simply bow out and wait for you to make the next adult move. I won’t chase you around if you are secretly waiting for me to do everything and read your minds. So if you can’t make the decision to end something, I will be the one to do it. My muses are no one’s “filler” ship or trophy. This is not first come, first serve. MY MUSES ARE NOT JUST SHIPPING FODDER.

  I am not going to be offended by you writing a character that has flaws, negative personality traits, prejudices and or general pitfalls in personality or mentality as long as you, the mun, do not agree with or support them.

I am not your therapist, I am not your scratching post, I am not your lifeline, and I am not responsible for your personal issues. Constant guilt tripping and playing the victim doesn't work on me anymore.

“Squicks” are the equivalent of “ew I don’t ever want to read or touch that subject again” while “triggers” cause all out severe panic attacks, mental breakdowns and the like - please note the difference.

I’m really close to gaining 100 followers - 20 more approximately - so when that happens, I’ll make a giveaway post and four winners will be randomly selected and be given a prize of their choosing!

I love you all lots, more than you can ever imagine, never forget that!

[ohfrickfanfic]

Blasphemy Part 2

Part 1

Pairings: Josh xTyler

Warnings/Tags: spitting, spanking, orgasm denial, homophobia, religious guilt, coming out

Hope you guys enjoy this. I’m sorry it took forever but I hope you find it worth the wait. Also the idea for the game played in this was taken from an Episode of Mortfied on Netflix and was how the girl came out in real life and i thought it would work perfectly fo this.

“Josh, we’re gonna be late,” Tyler says with a raspy voice, popping his head up and rubbing at his throat.

“Yeah, well, suck faster then,” Josh quips, pushing Tyler’s head back down between his kneeling legs on the bed.

Tyler — who’s propped up on his elbows with his ass in the air— does as he’s told, returning Josh to his mouth and picking up the pace. He does his best to keep eye contact with Josh in the awkward position: eyes straining to meet Josh’s gaze through his lashes as he bobs over his length.

With one hand firmly on the back on the back of Tyler’s head, Josh bucks his hips, fucking into his mouth. His other hand cradles the side of Tyler’s face, occasionally giving him a quick slap when he feels himself slip against the inside of his cheek, earning a gurgled groan from Tyler.

Pushing Tyler’s head further down, he slides his other hand from his cheek to the front of his neck, feeling from the outside as his cock plunges down his throat.

“Uhhh f-uck,” Josh moans, throwing his head back and continuing to push down on Tyler’s head until his perfect lips press harshly against his smooth, groomed pubic bone. “Always such a good little slut for me,” he praises as Tyler chokes, spit sputtering from the corners of his mouth, his eyes red and cheeks streaked with tears.

With his middle and pointer finger, Josh collects some of the saliva pooling from Tyler’s lips, slicking them up. Then, trailing the heel of his palm down over Tyler’s back to where his ass is perked up, he slips his fingers between his cheeks, spreading the wetness over his tightly puckered hole. Deciding he needs more lubrication, Josh hollows his cheeks working up more saliva. Leaning forward over Tyler’s body, he forcefully spits onto his ass. Tyler moans as the wet warmth slides between his cheeks; he loves the way it makes him feel owned and used.

Running his fingers through the wetness, Josh immediately pushes two fingers into Tyler and begins working them in and out, causing him to push back against his hand and moan around his cock. The vibrations quickly bring Josh to the edge of release.

“Mmmm, God, that mouth Ty... I’m gonna cum.” And with that, Josh shoots his warm load directly down Tyler’s throat, holding his head in place until he’s empty. When he’s sure he’s got out every last drop, he plucks his fingers from Tyler and yanks him up by his throat to his knees. He pulls him in for a quick kiss, tasting himself on his lips before shoving him away as Tyler gasps for air like a fish out of water. “Now go get dressed,” he orders, reaching for his shirt nearby.

After a few moments of coughing and sputtering, Tyler successfully inhales and clears his throat, wiping at his mouth before speaking, “What the hell, Josh? You’re not even gonna finish me off?!” he asks, looking down and motioning to his painfully hard and neglected cock.

“Nope. We’re gonna be late,” Josh mocks with a smirk, as he buttons his shirt.

“You’re an ass.”

“Oh, shut up. You know you love it,” Josh teases.

Tyler smiles to himself; he knows Josh is right. Orgasm denial — it’s just another one of the many new kinks Josh has unearthed in Tyler over the last few weeks of sexual discovery.

As much as he craves release now, he knows his orgasm will be all the more powerful later on if Josh makes him wait for it.

The two boys quickly finish getting dressed in Josh’s dorm before heading to church, where they’re already ten minutes late for their position as counselors for this weekend’s youth retreat. Luckily, the church is right down the street from the school, and with Josh’s terrifying driving, they make it to the church is just under three minutes.

“There you two are,” the pastor says when the boys finally enter the church. “I was starting to get worried. The kids should be arriving shortly.”

“We’re so sorry we’re late, Pastor. Tyler’s car wouldn’t start this morning. I tried to jump it for him, but no luck, so I gave him a ride,” Josh lies.

“It’s okay, I’m just glad you're both here; we‘ve got a busy day today,” the pastor says, “Thank you for helping out, Tyler, Josh, and making sure he got here. I’m proud of the progress you’ve made. I’ve noticed a big change in your attitude these past few weeks and I know Tyler here,” he pauses, placing his hand on Tyler’s shoulder, “is to thank for that. But I’ve also noticed Tyler seems a lot happier. He was always a bit of a loner, so I’m grateful he found a friend in you.” he states, looking to Josh. “I have to admit, that first day when I drove back past the church after running my errands and saw the lights still on, I was worried you two were up to no good. But when I saw what a great job you both did cleaning up, I was very pleased… although I’m still not sure what happened to that bottle of wine.”

“I’m sorry, that was me. I accidentally knocked over the bottle and spilled it all over the chair while I was trying to cork it back up,” Josh lies again. “Tyler quickly cleaned it up before it had a chance to drip down and stain the carpet. Luckily, the chair’s already red,” he lets out a small laugh.

“Oh, okay, that explains it,” the pastor says with a small laugh. “And that answers my other question too. I was wondering why that chair was all wet.”

The boys fight back a laugh as they exchange a quick look, their cheeks blushing at the memories of that day. Tyler feels thankful — yet guilty — that the pastor bought Josh’s lies. He doubts the pastor would still be proud of them if he knew the real reason they were late, or what really happened to the wine and the chair.

****************************

A short time later, the kids begin to arrive. After getting everyone all checked in for attendance, Tyler and Josh lead a group of teens to the rec room gymnasium for Tyler’s least favorite part of the youth retreat — the ‘Cross the Line’ game. From what’s been said to Tyler, it’s designed to begin the weekend with a fresh start by confronting and admitting to your sins amongst your peers, but to Tyler, it always felt like an invasion of privacy —- especially the last question, which he always lies on.

Most of the prompts are just basic, to see who has been following or breaking the Ten Commandments and such. “Cross the Line if you ever used God’s name in vain.” “Cross the line if you disobeyed your mother and father” Simple stuff really. A few kids cross the line, admitting to their sin and then return to the other side before the next prompt. Some kids cross the line multiple times throughout the game, and some hardly, or not at all. Tyler — and this year Josh — also take part in the game. It gives the kids a sense of security seeing their mentors have also made mistakes, and that no one is perfect. But it’s this last prompt that always makes Tyler feel uneasy.

“Cross the line if you’ve even taken part in homosexual thoughts or acts”.

Even though in the years past no one has ever crossed the line for that prompt, he wonders how many pulses on the line have quickened? How many palms are sweating? How many stomachs are churning with guilt? How many feet are itching to cross the line, but are frozen in fear? And how many just want to be free of their secret?

Because he knows he does.

Tyler keeps his eyes aimed down at his shoes in the awkward silence that follows the last prompt, but just as he’s about to wrap up the game and move on to the next activity of the day, he hears the shuffling of hesitant footsteps crossing the line. He looks up to see Jeanie, a young girl just shy of sixteen standing on the other side of the line. Her head is hung low in shame, her strawberry blonde hair veiling most of her face as she tucks her hands into the pockets of her overall shorts.

Panic and guilt rise in Tyler’s throat; he’s not sure what to do or say. He looks over to Josh for assistance, but suddenly it hits him. As if Josh can read his mind, he quickly nods and reaches out for Tyler’s hand. With a brave smile, Tyler accepts Josh's hand and the two make their way over the line.

Gasps ranging from shock, disgust, and surprise fill the gymnasium as the boys settle by Jeanie’s side. Slowly she lifts her head, tucking her hair behind her ear as she turns to look at the boys. Her brows furrow in confusion as her mind tries to grasp what is happening.

‘Why did they cross the line? Are they here to scold me? Support me?” she thinks to herself. ‘Wait, they’re holding hands are they — are they gay?’

Her eyes drift up from the boys joined hands, meeting Tyler’s warm and accepting eyes. He nods with a smile confirming her thoughts.

“We’re here for you,” Tyler says softly to Jeanie, placing a hand on her shoulder before turning forward to address everyone else. “We’re here for all of you. Despite what some might say or think, I truly believe God made each and every one of you the way you were meant to be; God doesn't make mistakes.” He turns to face Josh with a smile, getting lost in his ever-changing hazel/brown eyes.

“Well —” Tyler starts, breaking his stare, “— we still have a lot planned for today so…”

“Mr. Tyler wait!” Mackenzie — another one of the youths from group — shouts before crossing over the line to join him, Josh, and Jeanie.

“Anyone else? You have our support,” Tyler asks before attempting to wrap up the game again.  Quietly, without a word, a third camp-goer — Marcus — crosses the line as well.

Tyler’s heart is full. He can’t believe the beautiful series of chain reactions; how one teen’s bravery gave him and Josh the courage to come out, leading to Mackenzie, and now Marcus coming out as well. It’s the one time he's actually enjoyed this game.

“Alright, listen up. We’re gonna be moving on to some other activities now, and I expect that everyone,” Tyler emphasizes, “is going to be respectful of each other, regardless of how anyone answered any of the prompts in today’s game. Bullying will not be tolerated. Remember Matthew 7:12, ‘do unto others as you would have them do unto you.’

***************************

The rest of the morning proceeds without a hitch until just after noon. Tyler and Josh are preparing the picnic area outdoors for lunch when Dustin — another camp counselor — approaches.

“I’m here to relieve you,” Dustin says. “The pastor would like to have a word with both of you,”

This can’t be good.

****************************

“I assume you both know why I called you in here?” The pastor asks when the boys enter his office.

Their silence says they do.

“Tyler, have a seat; Josh I’m gonna need you to leave.”

“Whatever you wanna say to me, you can say in front of Josh too,” Tyler says, sitting in the chair in front of the pastor’s desk.

“No. Leave, as in he’s no longer welcome here,” the pastor states. “You’re gonna need to find somewhere else to complete your community service, Joshua.”

“Whatever,” Josh huffs, taking the seat next to Tyler.

“I thought I asked you to leave?” the pastor asks rhetorically.

“Yeah, about that…” Josh says, quickly shedding his ‘changed attitude’ and kicking his feet up on the pastor’s desk. “I’m not going anywhere unless God himself comes down and makes me,” Josh retorts, unwilling to leave Tyler’s side.

Ignoring Josh, the pastor turns his attention to Tyler. “I’m so sorry I thought it was a good idea to welcome Josh into our church, and thus allowing this to transpire. I feel partly to blame. But I’m going to get you the best help there is,” he says, handing Tyler a small business card. “He’s the top conversion therapist in the area.”

“Lemme get this right — you think Josh, made me gay?” Tyler starts, fighting back a laugh even though he finds this whole situation less than funny. “And here —” he flicks back the business card, “I’m not interested in ‘praying the gay away’.”

“Tyler, I can’t have this kind of blasphemy going on in my church, I’m —”

“You know what’s funny to me,” Josh cuts him off, “is that this morning you were singing our praises; talking about how proud you were of us and the progress we’ve both made, but now you find out we like dick and that all goes out the window?”

The pastor turns his attention back to Tyler, ignoring Josh’s lewd remarks once again. “As I was saying... I’m willing to cover the cost,” he slides the card back towards Tyler, “but if you don’t take me up on this offer, then I’m sorry, but you can no longer serve here.”

“Then I guess I’ll see myself out,” Tyler says, rising from his chair.

“Tyler!  — Tyler, think this through,” the pastor calls after him. “I’m gonna be short a counselor if you leave; there’s too many kids, we’ll be over ratio.”

“Just pray some of them away,” Tyler quips as he walks towards the exit.

“By the way —” Josh starts as he stands and begins to follow Tyler out. “We drank your precious ‘blood of Christ’ and the chair wasn’t wet with wine it was wet because I made Tyler c —”

“JOSH!” Tyler reprimands, dragging him out the door before he could surely give the pastor a heart attack with that last word.

******************************

Tyler’s barely had time to process what just happened when not even two minutes into the short drive back to campus, his phone rings. It’s his mother.

Tyler answers the phone without even bothering to say hello. He knows news travels fast, and he knows what this must be about.

“Tyler, we need to talk.”

‘Oh wow, didn’t see that coming’ Tyler thinks to himself as he rolls his eyes before responding.

“About what?” he plays dumb.

“I’m pretty sure you know! Come home now!” his mother demands.

“Fine, but I’m not staying. I’m going back to the dorms after we ‘talk’.”

“Just get here!” she snaps before hanging up.

Tyler drops the phone into his lap and hunches forward in the passenger seat, head buried in the crook of his arms, as his fingers nervously twirl at his hair.

“Hey, you alright man? Josh questions, placing a comforting hand on Tyler’s knee as he steers with the other.

“Yeah, just drive to my mom’s.” Tyler chokes out the address while wiping his face on his sleeve.

“Ok — I-I’m sorry, Ty.”

“Not your fault,” Tyler sniffs, trying to regain his composure; sitting up straight and turning his head to face the window so Josh can’t see the tears rolling down his cheeks, despite his best efforts to hold them back.   

Josh can’t comprehend why the sight makes his heart feel like a sinking stone in the abyss of his stomach. Nor does he understand why the sound of every sniffle makes his own throat tighten, unable to swallow the lump that’s taken residence there. Sure, he likes Tyler; he’s his boyfriend after all. But in all Josh’s past relationships, he’s never felt this before. Compassion, empathy — whatever this is, is completely foreign to him. The majority of his prior relationships were based purely on sex.

“Right here,” Tyler says softly, giving his face one final wipe down with his palms as they approach his mother's house. Josh puts the car into park and Tyler starts to exit the vehicle, pausing when he hears Josh undoing his seat belt. “You don’t have to come with me,” Tyler says without turning to look at Josh, still trying to feign he wasn’t crying.

“I want to.”

“Really? Why?” Tyler asks, turning towards Josh, his face red and blotchy.

“I — I care about you,” Josh forces himself to admit.

“You do? Tyler questions, with the faintest of smiles as he shuts the passenger side door.

Josh exits the car and shuts the door, rounding the front of the car to stand by Tyler’s side. “Of course, I do.”

The two boys exchange a small smile as Tyler’s hand nervously grasps Josh’s for comfort, his other hand reaching to press the doorbell, but before he even has a chance to press it his mother flings open the door. “Oh my Heavens, it’s true!” she exclaims, disappearing back inside of the house.

“Yes, it is,” Tyler admits when they find her sitting on the living room couch with the fingertips of her right hand pressed to the bridge of her nose.

“But-but Jenna?”

“We’re just friends, Mom,” Tyler says as he and Josh sit down on the loveseat across from her, Josh still holding his hand for comfort.

“What about that time I caught you in your room, kissing her with your hand up her shirt and forbid you from being in your room alone anymore?”

“Ironically enough, that was the day I came out to Jenna and told her I thought I might be gay. She was just helping me figure myself out.”

“So, you just led me to believe she was your girlfriend this whole time, Tyler?”

“What was I supposed to do, say ‘Don’t worry about it, Mom. I didn’t even like it. I’m gay’? I was embarrassed enough as it was,” Tyler shouts. “Can we be done with this conversation now? I just wanna go back to my dorm. I’ve had a shit day.”

Tyler feels Josh’s grasp tighten, reminding him that he’s here for him. Tyler turns, giving him a quick appreciative smile of thanks before his mother goes off again.

“I would tell you to watch your mouth, but your language is the least of my problems right now!”

“Your problems? Really?” Tyler scoffs. “Explain to me how my sexuality affects you at all.”

“Because I have a homosexual for a son! How is it NOT my problem? I didn’t raise you like this!”

“You’re right, you didn’t raise me like this —” Tyler says, motioning to her distraught state. “You raised me to ‘love thy neighbor’, but apparently that only applies if your neighbor — or in this case, your son — isn’t gay, because then the love just goes right out the window.”

“Tyler, I still love you. You’re my son. I’m not gonna disown you or anything. I just don’t accept your lifestyle choice!”

“Being vegan is a lifestyle choice, being economical is a lifestyle choice, being straight edge is a lifestyle choice. Being gay is not a choice!  You know what is though — being homophobic,” Tyler retorts. “And I can’t accept that you don’t accept me. Come on Josh, let’s go.”

***********************

The ride back to the dorms is a quiet one. Josh wracks his brain for something sympathetic to say to break the silence, but nothing seems quite right — nothing seems good enough, considering Josh feels mostly responsible.

Just when Josh thinks he can’t take another second of quiet, Tyler soft voice breaks the silence. “Do you think I can stay over at your dorm tonight? I know it sounds lame, but I really don’t wanna be alone.”

“You don’t have to be, of course you can stay with me,” Josh says, giving Tyler’s thigh a squeeze.

**********************

As soon as they’re back inside Josh’s dorm, Tyler sinks helplessly onto the edge of the bed, his eyes losing the fight with his tears as they flow over his bottom lid.

“You know what hurts the most?” Tyler chokes out, looking up to Josh as he sits beside Tyler to comfort him. “It’s not anything the pastor said to me, or even my mom. It’s not what anybody thinks about me, it’s those kids. I feel like I abandoned them. They were so brave, and I told them we were there for them and that they had our support, and now we’re just gone. I know you were only there with me temporarily until you finished your community service, but they still would have had me to support them. Who do they have now? Nobody!” Tyler sobs loudly, throwing his arms around Josh.

“They don’t have anybody who understands them like I do.” Tyler words muffle against Josh’s shoulder. “What if they get bullied and I’m not there to stop it? What if they have questions or concerns, and there’s no one to confide in?” he asks rhetorically, peeking his wet eyes up from Josh’s shirt.

“Ty — I-I don’t even know what to say, but I hate seeing you like this,” Josh says, thumbing a tear from Tyler’s cheek. “I can’t help but feel like this is all my fault. I’m so sorry.” He gently palms the back of Tyler’s head, pulling him to his chest. His lips part the sea of brown waves atop his head, planting a firm, comforting kiss to his scalp.

“Other people’s homophobia is not your fault, Josh,” Tyler says, pulling back from Josh’s embrace just enough to look at him.

“It’s just — I didn’t have the right to kiss you that day, and that’s how this all started. If I would have just kept my lips to myself, then your mom wouldn’t be upset with you and you’d still have your position as an altar boy and youth counselor at the church.”

“Yeah, and I’d still be in the closet. As much as this sucks, it feels so good to be free. And you had every right to kiss me that day — please never stop kissing me,” Tyler says, shifting his weight onto his knees and pressing his lips to Josh’s.

“Josh —-” Tyler whines softly, breaking the kiss and cupping Josh’s face. “Make me forget.”

Tyler pulls off his shirt off, scoots his body up the bed and lies on his back, hands above his head, ready for Josh to have his way with him.

Josh crawls over Tyler’s body and connects his mouth to his neck, sucking harshly as he makes his way up the column of flesh. “I think now would be a good time for that spanking,” Josh whispers in Tyler’s ear before pulling his lobe gently between his teeth. “What do you say?”

“Yes, Sir,” Tyler eagerly agrees.

“Good,” Josh says as he climbs off Tyler and makes his way back to the edge of the bed. “Let’s go. Pants down. Over my knee,” Josh orders sternly, patting his lap.

In an instant, Tyler is standing in front of Josh, quickly undoing his belt and shimmying his pants and boxers down just enough to expose his backside. He feels slightly awkward and self-conscious as he positions himself over Josh’s lap, his half hard cock hanging between Josh’s thighs.

“Mmmm, you ready Babyboy?” Josh asks while kneading Tyler’s flesh and softly patting his ass to warm him up.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Safeword,” Josh prompts, before spitting onto one of Tyler’s cheeks to increase the sting of the impact.

“Uhh, fuck — yellow,” Tyler whines at the sensations of Josh’s saliva claiming him.

“I’ve barely touched you yet,” Josh can’t help but chuckle as he spreads the wetness around with this hand. “You’re gonna count for me, okay?” Josh says as he raises a hand.

“Why?” Tyler questions curiously, having never taken part in getting spanked before.

“‘Cause I wanna hear that pretty mouth of yours struggle to form words as I smack your ass,” Josh answers before quickly bringing his hand down with a loud clap against Tyler’s backside.

“Fuck — o-one,” Tyler jumps, caught off guard. Josh spits into his hand this time, then strikes him again. “Mmm, two,” Tyler cries out as Josh raises his hand again, bringing it down in rapid succession. “Three. Shit- ff-four!”

Tyler’s length hardens where it’s resting between Josh’s thighs and Josh takes notice, “You like when I spank you, Babyboy?” he teases, squeezing his thighs together; Tyler’s cock now viced between them.

“Yesss,” Tyler says in a high-pitched whine. “I-I mean, yes, Sir.” he corrects.

“Good,” Josh spits on his ass again, ��‘cause I’m not done with you yet. What do you think, ten total?” he asks, rubbing his saliva into Tyler’s reddened cheeks.

“Yes, Sir. Give me ten,” and with that, Josh’s hand makes contact with his redden flesh again and again, each one harder than the last. “Fiiive,” his eyes begin to prickle with tears. “S-six… sev — shit, seven.”

By eight he’s sobbing.

It’s a good cry — cathartic, one might say; his emotions right on the surface, much like the bruising on his backside. His senses are flooded with so many feelings, more than just the miseries of the day, but good feelings too: happiness, support, camaraderie, and perhaps even — love. He’s high off the release of endorphins, barely able  to feel the physical sting of nine and ten as they echo with a loud ‘crack’ against his skin, but he still counts them through his cries, as instructed.

“You did so good for me,” Josh says, his touch now soft as he soothes Tyler’s raw skin.

Tyler quickly pulls himself up, clawing at Josh’s shirt for leverage and wildly connects their mouths, knocking Josh down on the bed. Tyler kisses him frantically as if his kisses are made of oxygen and Tyler needs them to survive. Josh can taste the salt of Tyler’s tears as they continue to roll down his face.

“You okay?” Josh breaks the kiss to ask.

The neurochemical high of subspace has Tyler feeling free and floaty, and he can’t stop the words that form on his tongue like a truth serum —

“I love you — I love you so much,” Tyler chokes out, cupping the sides of Josh’s face, kissing him desperately.  

“I-I love you too,” Josh’s prior confusing feelings all starting to make sense as the four simple words fall, without thought, from his lips.

Josh wipes the tears from Tyler’s eyes and again their mouths are drawn together like magnets, only the removal of Josh’s shirt briefly affecting their polarity. Using the sides of his feet, Josh manages to push Tyler’s pants and boxers down the rest of the way to his ankles, where Tyler promptly kicks them off. Gently, Josh rolls Tyler off him and onto his back and quickly finishes undressing before settling between his legs.

“Do you need me to —”

“Nah, I should still be good from earlier,” Tyler cuts him off.

“Ok,” Josh reaches into the nightstand for the bottle of lube.

Having never done it in this position before, Tyler watches in awe as Josh slicks himself up, his eyes trained on the way Josh’s eyes flutter as he spreads the lube over the head, and the way his top teeth extend over his bottom lip, pulling it in. Tyler half expects him to tell him to roll over once he’s finished lubing himself up, but is pleasantly surprised when Josh instead says, “Spread your legs for me, baby.”

Tyler happily obliges, and Josh guides himself in with little resistance, hushing Tyler’s whines with his lips and circling tongue. Whines turn to moans as Josh sets a rhythm, rolling his hips in waves that cause Tyler to anchor his fingernails into the flesh of Josh’s freckled back, leaving a trail of crescent moons down his spine.

Josh breaks the seal of kisses with a heavy exhale. “God, I love you,” he says breathily, gripping Tyler’s face with both hands and planting a kiss to his forehead.

“I love you too, Josh,” Tyler says as he reflects on how far they’ve come over the past few weeks; from enemies and a secret admirer, to Joshua Dun making love to him and telling him how much he loves him. It’s like a dream come true, and his eyes begin to well up again at the thought.

“Don’t start crying on me again,” Josh teases playfully, raking his hands over Tyler’s sides and kissing away the one rogue tear that managed to escape. He begins a descent of tiny kisses down the side of Tyler’s face, and nips along his jaw. Continuing from the center of his chin, he moves his mouth lower over his Adam's apple, enjoying the way it bobs and vibrates with moans against his lips as he trusts. He can feel the wetness of Tyler’s leaking tip against his stomach, and moves his hand to his length, stroking him in time with the movement of his hips.

“Josh!” Tyler cries out, the combination of Josh’s touch and pressure against his prostate bringing him close to the edge.

“Cum for me, Churchboy,” Josh says against Tyler’s lips with a smirk.

And as if Josh’s words hit some magical release button inside of him, the heat in Tyler’s abdomen builds to an intense peak. His body shakes from the overdue pleasure as he pulses in Josh’s hand, his cum fountaining from the tip and spilling over Josh’s knuckles in excess. His vision spots and his mind blanks as his powerful orgasm washes over him taking the stress of the days events with it.

Josh slows his hips, careful not to overstimulate the fragile boy under him as he chases his own release. Any other time Josh would love to completely wreck him, but he knows Tyler’s been through enough today. He buries his face in Tyler’s neck, nuzzling against his tanned skin as he finishes inside him. Their hearts beat against one another's chest, and their lungs take in each other’s exhales as they come down from their highs.

“Guess I like soft sex too,” Tyler laughs out of breath.

“Yeah, me too. Who knew?” Josh chuckles. “So, you might not be able to be an altar boy anymore, but you’ll always be my ‘Churchboy’,” Josh smirks. “Now come on, let’s go put some Arnica cream on that ass. You bruise like a peach.”

[ladywinchester1967]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Grace Drake

Characters: Dean Winchester, Grace Drake (OFC), Kenneth Drake (Grace’s husband), Lula and Sissy (Grace and Kenneth’s hired help), Sam Winchester*, William (Kenneth’s business partner)*

*= mentioned

Warnings: Cheating, SMUT, drinking, smoking, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), mentions of alcoholism, mentions of homosexuality, language, mentions of World War II (nothing too graphic).

A/N: This is the start of a BRAND NEW series; so the tag list for this is wide open. Takes place post-World War II (think late 40′s, going into early 1950′s) so I tried to use some of the slang and language that would have been used in that time period. Each part has themes from the song by Switchfoot of the same name (which I’ve ALWAYS wanted to use in a story!). Per usual; unbeta’d, all mistakes are mine, but the pictures are NOT. I found them on Pinterest and tumblr.

Welcome to the Planet

Welcome to existence

Everyone's here

Everyone's here

Everybody's watching you now

Everybody waits for you now

What happens next?

What happens next?

She shifted and the cold light of day invaded her closed eyelids.

“Mhhhh.” She grunted and opened them up.

She was naked, save for the sheet and the arm that was currently wrapped around her body. She rolled over and saw a pair of shining green eyes and a wide smile looking back at her.

“Morning beautiful.” He said

“No way I look beautiful right now.” She said as she reached out and touched his face.

“You always look beautiful Gracie.” He said and kissed her.

“Mh, I love it when you call me that.” She said sleepily and opened her mouth for another kiss.

He rolled, putting her on her back and making her giggle. He kissed down her neck and to her collar bone and then back up to her ear.

“My sweet,” kiss “sweet,” kiss “Gracie Lou.”

“Deeeeeean!” She whined slapping his bare shoulders and making him laugh.

“You’re gonna have to hit harder than that if you wanna throw me off doll face.” He said, pinning her hands on either side of her head by the wrists.

“Mhhhh, can’t get rid of you easily can I?” She teased as they kissed. She opened her legs and his hardened length ran up her inner thigh as she gasped.

“Nope.” He said as he pushed inside her waiting core. He kissed her again as he buried himself inside of her.

“Dean,” she sighed against his mouth, her nails pressing into his shoulders “Dean, you feel so good inside me.”

“Gracie.” he sighed back as he raked his hands through her hair, wrapping her up into his arms as he pushed into her. She wrapped her legs around him, her heels digging into the backs of his thighs. He thrust up into her, hitting her sweet spot, making her back arch and her nails dig harder into his shoulders. He took his time, slowly thrusting in and out of her, kissing every inch of her body that his mouth could reach until she was a whining mess under him.

“Dean, please!” She begged “Please!”

“What?” He asked playfully “Tell me sweetheart.”

“I wanna come,” she whined, raking her nails down his back “please, please let me come Dean!”

He growled and pushed hard into her, making her cry out. She writhed under him, he seemed to be hitting every nerve in her body until she screamed and came hard. Her clenching around him was exactly what he needed to send him over the edge. With a loud cry, he emptied his load into her, his hips stilling as he supported his weight on his knees and forearms. He gave her one last kiss before rolling off of her, both of them breathing hard. After a few minutes of blissful silence, she rolled to her side and kissed his cheek.

“What time is it?” She asked, rubbing the tip of her nose against his cheek.

Dean checked his watch.

“Ten thirty.” He said

“What?!” She asked

“It’s ten thirty.” He said and showed her the face of his watch.

“FUCK!” She exclaimed and darted out of bed.

“What’s wrong?!” He asked

“I’m supposed to be at bridge club in an hour! Fuck!” She yelled as she gathered her clothes and threw them on.

“Shit!” Dean yelled and got out of bed to help her, tugging on his underwear. She threw on her bra and panties, foregoing her pantyhose for now, and stuffed them into her bag along with her gloves.

“God damn it,” she said “I can’t believe I over slept. Where’s my dress?!”

“Right here.” He said and held it up with two fingers.

“Thank you!” She said gratefully as she stepped into it.

“You sure YOU weren’t the one in the Army with that foul mouth?” He teased

“Father was a Sergeant Major in the Marine Corps remember?” She asked as she pulled the sleeves of her dress up and he flashed recognition across is face.

“Ah, now I remember.” He said

“Zip me please?” She asked and turned her back to him. He did as she requested and planted a kiss between her shoulder blades.

“I’m so sorry,” she said “I’m running around here like a chicken with my head cut off. I'm gonna be late and those bitches will rip me to shreds!”

“It’s okay,” He said as she grabbed her shoes and buckled them “go play bridge and gossip, I’ll talk to you tonight.”

She pinned her hair back as best as she could and gave him a quick kiss.

“You’re the best you know?” She asked him

“Stop flattering me or I won’t let you leave.” He said and wrapped her in a breath stealing kiss. She moaned against his lips.

“I have to go,” she whined between kisses “Lula and Sissy are gonna have a fit when they see me.”

Dean laughed

“Go before Lula threatens to hunt me down. Again.” He teased and opened the door for her, watching as she blew him a kiss over her shoulder and took off down the stairs.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this, Grace thought as she caught the bus back to her house, pretending that she wasn’t wearing the clothes she’d worn the night before. She was supposed to hit the road with her high school sweetheart, Dean Winchester, and drive until they reached the Pacific Ocean. They would set up a dual building where he could practice medicine and she could paint, sketch and teach art classes. That’s what they’d always talked about.

That was before Dean got drafted into World War II. He’d been ripped away from her in the blink of an eye while she helped the local Red Cross with the war effort.

When the dust finally settled, Dean’s brother; Sam, showed her the telegram that bore the sad news. Dean was MIA and believed to be dead. It was a hero’s death, her father had mused. She mourned, for years she mourned for the boy she had loved. The one that listened when she talked, that always told her that her dreams of being a writer and artist weren’t stupid or misguided. The boy who away made her feel pretty, the one who always showered her with love and attention, who understood that she didn’t want to be defined by her marital status or that expected her to pop out as many babies as she could.

The girl she was died along with him, after that, she found it easier to just do as she was told. She dated the boys her parents set her up with. Even accepted the proposal of the man her parents deemed “a good match” for her. Kenneth Drake worked successfully in advertising, he made good money and was nice enough. He didn’t seem too happy when she voiced her opinions on social matters or offered her view on the current ads he was trying to run.

“Darling,” he had said and patted her on the back of the hand “I know you have a lot to say, but women are meant to be seen, not heard.”

She had sighed and resigned to the fact that she was supposed to be decoration. She was supposed to smile, look good when she met the boss and have dinner on the table by five thirty sharp.

That perfect illusion was shattered when Kenneth was admitted to the hospital two years after they were married. She got the call in the middle of the night and rushed to the hospital to be with him.

“Please,” she pleaded with the nurse “I’m looking for Kenneth Drake, he’s my husband!”

“Gracie?” She heard a familiar voice ask. The voice send chills down her spine, only one person on the planet called her Gracie and that person had died years ago. She slowly turned and saw him.

His hair was darker than she remembered, but his eyes, oh lord in heaven, those emerald green eyes. Their striking color hadn’t changed at all. He wore a crisp white lab coat with dark slacks and shoes, across his chest was the name

Dr. D Winchester

“Dean?” She asked

He looked like he had seen a ghost, his face went ashen, his full lips dropped open into a surprise O shape. He briefly shook his head and said to the nurse

“Betty, she’s okay. Let her through.”

The nurse, Betty, nodded and stepped aside as Grace rushed over to Dean.

“Kenneth Drake is your husband?” Dean asked, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. She nodded, a dark curl falling into her eyes.

“Yes, they said they found him in bad shape outside this bar,” she said obviously upset “please Dean, can you tell me anything?”

Dean paused for a second and then nodded

“Have a seat,” he said gently and directed her to a nearby chair “I’ll check it out.”

“Thank you,” She said “thank you so much.”

He gave her a small smile and took off down the hallway.

After some time, Dean returned and sat by her.

“Kenneth suffered a concussion,” he told her “he hit his head on the cement after he collapsed due to alcohol poisoning. They pumped his stomach and gave him some fluids, he’s gonna have a nasty headache and a hell of a hangover, but he’ll be fine.”

She let out a sigh of relief and hugged him.

“Thank you,” She told him, inhaling his familiar scent “Thank you so much Dean.”

He reluctantly wrapped his arms around her, the familiar feel of her hair under his hand filling the dull ache in his chest that he’d learned to live with.

The next day she’d returned to the hospital to check on Kenneth. She headed up to the roof to get some air and found Dean, sitting on a bench. He wore sunglasses and had a lit cigarette in his hand.

“I thought you would be up here.” She called to him.

He turned, startled, but his expression softened when he saw her.

“Gracie!” He called

That was how it started; they’d rekindled their friendship like they’d never been apart. One night, she met Dean for a drink, which turned into multiple drinks, and the truth came out.

“You couldn’t wait for me?” He asked, his eyes glassy.

“Sam told me you were dead Dean, he showed me the telegram.” Grace said, taking a puff from the cigarette she stole from him.

“The Army thought I was dead,” he told her “my unit got captured by the Italians and they kept us as prisoners of war. Then the Allies liberated us and brought us home. Imagine the shock on my mother’s face when I turned up.”

“Why didn’t you?” She asked and trailed off.

“Come looking for you?” He asked and she nodded “I did, your father told me he’d put a bullet in me like the Italians, Germans and Japanese had failed to do if I ever came near you again.”

Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open in shock as she handed back the cigarette to him.

“My God,” she said “my father, always the wordsmith.”

Dean smirked and snubbed out the cigarette.

“So Kenneth seems nice, albeit a raging alcoholic.” Dean said

She shook her head

“He’s docile,” she said “he makes good money, he works hard, he’s nice enough. I guess.”

“But?” Dean asked, downing the last of his drink and asking for another.

She rolled her eyes and took a sip of her drink.

“My husband,” she trailed off and chose her words carefully “bats for the other team.”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up

“Kenneth wears sensible shoes?” Dean asked and she nodded “Sure do know how to pick ‘em Gracie Lou.”

She slapped his arm playfully

“MY PARENTS picked him,” she said “I had no say in the matter.”

“So, where is he now?” Dean asked

She pursed her lips and thought

“At a late meeting,” she said and downed the rest of her drink “with his business partner William.”

“Does he often have late meetings with William?” Dean asked and she nodded.

“Nearly every night,” she said “he comes home for dinner and then leaves at exactly seven thirty.”

“When does he come home?” Dean asked

“Whenever he damn well pleases,” she told him “he's the man of the house. His words, not mine.”

Dean shook his head as the waiter dropped off another round for them.

“I can tell you something?” She asked, leaning into Dean. Her blue eyes were sparkling like they always had, he could smell her perfume and the alcohol on her, which just made her all the more enchanting.

“Of course.” He said

Their eyes met and she bit her lower lip. Not only had their friendship rekindled, so had to sexual tension between them. The last time Grace had sex with a man was Kenneth on her birthday; and even then, it hadn't been anything worth writing home about.

“The last time I had a decent orgasm? Right before you went off to war.” she told him

His eyes went wide

“You’re kidding right?” He asked and she shook her head.

“This is much too serious for me to joke about.” She told him.

Dean reached in his pocket, pulled out his wallet and said

“We’re fixing that. Now.”

“What?!” She asked shocked as he threw some money on the table and grabbed her hand.

“Either I just left a VERY generous tip or a dry cleaning receipt, let’s hurry in case it’s the receipt.” He murmured in her ear and she laughed.

Dean always had the ability to make her laugh, even when she didn’t want to.

He took her to his apartment and as soon as the door was shut behind them he said

“You have to tell me this is okay Gracie, I need to hear you say it.”

It was nice to see all those years away hadn’t changed that part of him. He’s said something similar when she’d lost her virginity to him what seemed like a lifetime ago. She put her purse down and stepped closer to him. Standing in front of her wasn’t the boy she’d fallen in love with. He was a grown and jaded man, but he still had all the love and compassion in him that she’d always cherished about him. She nodded and said

“I want this Dean,” as she reached for him “I want you. Make love to me, please.”

That night had been full of passion and romance unlike anything she’d experienced since she’d slept with him previously. He remembered every place to touch and kiss her that made her toes curl and drawing sounds out of her she wasn’t sure she was capable of making any more.

The next morning her eyes fluttered open and she found Dean asleep beside her.

“Oh thank god.” She said quietly “that wasn’t an elaborate dream.”

She heard Dean chuckle as he opened his eyes.

“Are you okay?” He asked, pushing her hair out of her face. She nodded

“I should feel guilty,” she told him “I should feel ashamed and disgusted.”

“Do you?” He asked, hesitation in his voice.

She smiled and shook her head

“No,” she said “I don’t.”

That was more than a year ago, Grace thought as the bus pulled up at a stop near her house. Since then, she and Dean has carried on discreetly, just as she knew Kenneth and William were. Neither of them mentioned the other’s fling and they kept up appearances. She was there to greet the boss at work functions and host dinners in their home. Though now she did it with a bit more pep in her step.

She rushed into the house, busting through the kitchen door like a bat out of hell and startling both Lula and Sissy, the ladies that helped her in her home.

“Mrs. Grace you look like something that got caught in a drain!” Lula exclaimed and Grace laughed.

“I do look a bit silly don’t I?” Grace asked “Lula, could you make me some coffee while I freshen up?”

“Yes ma’am,” Lula said and nodded to Sissy “help Mrs. Grace outta those clothes so I can get ‘em washed.”

“Yes Lula.” Sissy said and followed Grace up the stairs.

Sissy was Lula’s niece and needed work, Lula had been helping out her family for as long as she could remember and when she started to get on in years, Lula asked tearfully if Grace could help out her niece. Grace’s heart went out to Lula.

“Lula, you know you’re family to us and if your family needs help, this is the least I can do.” Grace had told her and covered Lula’s dark hand with her own pale one “How about this? You bring Sissy on and teach her how you do things? That way when you’re ready to leave, Sissy can take over.”

“You do that for me Mrs. Grace?” Lula asked, her brown eyes wide with shock.

“Lula, if she is anywhere close to as amazing as you are, we’d be happy to have her on.”

Sissy was terribly shy at first, she didn’t even look Grace or Kenneth in the eye for the first few months she worked for them. Slowly though, she’d come around and was a delight to be around.

“Tell Lula I’m sorry this smells like cigarettes.” Grace told Sissy as she turned her back. Sissy unzipped her dress and asked

“Doctor Winchester again?”

Grace gave Sissy a sly smile and Sissy returned it. She threw the evening dress over her arm and Grace headed for the bathroom.

“Sissy, could you find me something to wear for today?” Grace asked

“What do you want to wear Mrs. Grace?” Sissy asked.

Grace shrugged

“Surprise me, I always get compliments on the clothes you pick out.” Grace said and went into the bathroom.

After a shower, pinning her hair up and donning a floral dress, peach sandals, a strand of pearls and matching earrings, Grace did her makeup. Just a little bit of mascara, blush and lipstick to bring out her features. She looked in the mirror and realized Dean had left a hickey on her neck.

“Asshole!” She mumbled to herself and set to work trying to cover it up.

When she was ready, she went down into the kitchen and took a cup of coffee that Lula had waiting for her.

“Did Kenneth come home at all?” Grace asked Lula.

“He was here this morning for breakfast,” Lula said “which you missed.”

Grace hung her head, Lula chastising her wasn’t anything new.

“Sorry Lula.” Grace said and sipped her coffee before shoving a pancake in her mouth.

“MRS. GRACE!” Lula shouted “You eat like your Momma taught you some manners!”

Grace laughed and so did Sissy. “You hush over there and make sure that mantel is dusted.” Lula said to Sissy, who scampered away.

“Did Kenneth tell you where he was going?” Grace asked.

“Playing golf with William,” Lula said as she arranged the tarts on a serving plate just so “said he’d be gone until dinner was ready.”

“That’ll give me plenty of time to get dinner ready,” Grace said “meatloaf and potatoes?”

Lula nodded

“Mister Kenneth likes that.” She said with a grin.

“I'm late, I have to go. I'll see you two when I get home.”

When she arrived, fifteen minutes late, Sue, the hostess for this meeting was not pleased at all.

“Not like you to be late Grace.” She said as Grace stepped through the door.

“I'm so sorry Sue,” Grade said and handed her a bottle of her favorite wine “I lost track of time.”

In spite of her distraction, the rest of the bridge game went off without a hitch.

“Grace, are you wearing a new lipstick or something?” Mary Anne asked as she dealt out another hand.

“No, it’s the same as always, why do you ask?” Grace inquired.

“You seem so,” Mary Anne trailed off “different some how.”

“Glowing almost.” Catherine commented as she took a puff from her cigarette.

“I bet I KNOW what it is.” Louise said, adjusting her glasses “Kenneth DID just get home from a long business trip.”

Grace’s cheeks flushed and the ladies started to giggle.

“Oh, now that makes sense!” Mary Anne said with a grin.

Grace tucked her hair behind her ear and smiled.

“A lady doesn’t kiss and tell.” She said simply and went on playing.

After bridge, Grace made dinner. She made extra so that Sissy and Lula could have some as a thank you for their hard work. Kenneth strolled through the door at precisely five thirty, still wearing his golfing gear.

“Darling,” he greeted Grace with a hug “how were the ladies today?”

“Like hens in a hen house,” she told Kenneth “meatloaf and mashed potatoes tonight. Do you want brandy or whiskey?”

“Whiskey please, my sweet?” He asked, giving her a peck on the cheek.

They ate dinner, chatting about their respective days. Kenneth hadn’t done so well on the golf course and had lost a few dollars to William and their other partner, Jim.

“You’ll get them next week,” Grace said “I’m sure of it.”

Kenneth gave her a smile and took a sip of his drink, his eyes still on her. She looked back at him; he was indeed handsome. He had forget- me-not blue eyes, lush dark hair and a slight boyish grin on his face.

“Grace?” He asked

“Hm?” She answered as she took a sip of her wine.

“When are we going to talk about it?” He asked.

“Talk about what?” She shot back.

“What you’re doing.” He said

She blinked at she stared at him

“Eating my dinner?” She asked.

He shook his head and raked a hand through his hair.

“No, and don’t talk to me like I’m an idiot.” He said

“Kenneth, I wouldn’t-“ she started but he interrupted

“I KNOW okay?” He asked sharply

“About what?!” She shot back, even though she knew exactly what he was getting at.

“You and that doctor!” Kenneth exploded “You’re fucking him behind my back!”

Even though it was true, and she had been for more than a year, she still decided to play dumb.

“What doctor? I’m not fucking-“ she started and he cut her off again.

“YES YOU ARE!” He yelled as he stood “Shirley, the butcher’s wife, saw you with a man that wasn’t me last night!”

Fuming, Grace said

“Kenneth, sit down and we can talk about this calmly.”

“THERE’S NOTHING CALM ABOUT WHAT I HAVE TO SAY!” Kenneth shouted at her “HOW COULD YOU?! HOW COULD YOU FUCKING DO THIS TO ME GRACE?!”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

SOOOOOO?! What do ya’ll think?? Are you excited to see where this goes? Because I’m excited to share it with ya’ll! 

As always, kind feedback is appreciated. Feel free to like and share with your followers. If you’re new, maybe consider following? My boxes are open, so if you want to request something, you are more than welcome to!

The Squad:

@waywardbaby @waywardnerd67 @familybusinesswritingbro @ain-t-bovvered @mrswhozeewhatsis @girlborninstorms @dacleverfox @emoryhemsworth @bobasheebaby @salvachester @myinconnelly1 @mogaruke @imma-winchester-addict @theworldiscolorful @dean-winchesters-bacon @animerose96 @l8nit-l0vr @thewaywardvalkyrie

[moved-to-moothebloo]

Tagged in a fandom tag game

Thank you to @knickkatstuff for tagging me

Rules: Choose any three fandoms (in any order), answer the questions, and tag 10 people you want to get to know better

Fandoms:

Ninjago

Steven Universe

Marvel

The first character you loved:

Zane was my childhood favorite

Pearl

Steve Rogers

Character(s) you never expected to love so much:

Kai was a character that for a while I never cared for that much, but recently he’s turned into one of my favorites

I used to not care about Garnet that much, but then after Jail break and as the seasons progressed I began to love her more and more

I’ve always loved Peter Quill, but over the years I’ve loved him more and more then I ever thought I would

Character(s) you relate to the most:

Morro, cause we’re both human dumpster fires with very low self esteem and need constant attention

It’s kind of funny, cause I relate to both Ruby and Sapphire, but not Garnet. I relate to Ruby in terms of behavior and personality, and Sapphire cause I suffer from anxiety disorders that are similar to Sapphire’s fears and worries about her future vision. Also they’re both homosexual which I am too. That’s about it. (Oh and also Peridot)

Scott Lang cause we both never know what’s going on, we’re both awkward extroverts, we have a really hard time breaking bad habits, and we’re not really super good at anything. And also we both love animals

The character you’d slap:

Sorry I know he’s the fandom fav but I would do anything to bitch slap Lloyd in the face

Either Lapis or Blue Diamond, not sure which.

I love him but Tony cause he just needs to get his shit together

Three favorite characters, in order of preference:

Kai, Morro, then Cole or Nya

It’s really really hard to decide but I guess Jasper, Garnet, and Pearl

Quill, Steve, and Rocket

Characters you liked at first but not anymore:

Zane used to be my favorite but after a while he got progressively more flanderized as the seasons continued

I used to find Lapis a cool mysterious character but now she’s just kind of a jerk and not really in an endearing or sympathetic way

I know a lot of people love this character and that’s fine, he’s not a really bad character by any means, but man T’Challa used to be really cool and now he’s just less interesting then he was before

Three OTPs:

Greenstorm for life. Even though the ship gets so much unnecessary shit, and people have tried to make me not ship it, but it’s still the absolute best to me. I just love the tropes and their personalities working off together, it’s just the best

I have quite a few, but I think Amedot easily takes the cake

Stony was one of the first otps I’ve ever had and I still love it to this day, though I also really love Starmora

For this I will tag: @melissa18999 @americananime26 @ravenroyal21 @bi-tter-swee-t @ninjamelissajulien

[0smooch0-blog]

Blinded by the Light - An Apocalyptiplier Fanfiction (Pt3)

Based on the AU created by @sinnamonstache / @cinnamon-grump, and a lovely anonymous.

Contains: sad/depressing moments, apocalyptic world caused by nuclear explosion, homosexual depictions of real people (full respect towards them; please do not tag them while reblogging/sharing this. Also, keep this out of the main tags), minor blood/gore, sexual/romantic scenes, intense scenes, swearing.

Parts: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

Enjoy

After delivering the bad news to Tyler, we grabbed our bags and took us much food and water as we could carry. Not much was left, but there was enough to last for a few days. I didn't want to think about running out of food and water, ...but I knew that was something we’d have to deal with soon. We also gathered medical supplies, and we even found a few weapons, like a fire axe and some handguns. When we were finally ready to leave, we stood at the entrance anxiously, knowing that what we were about to do was beyond dangerous.

I sighed “C’mon. We should go before it gets dark”. Tyler rubbed his arm, clearly nervous “Why can’t we just stay here..?”. “Tyler, we’re going to run out of food really soon. When that happens, we’ll have to leave anyway. We might as well leave now so we’re used to being outside by the time we need food” I answered confidently, although I was just as tense as him. “Okay... good point. Let’s just go..”.

Without saying anything else, we walked out of the bunker, staying very close to each other. I carried one bag, and Tyler carried the other. I held his right arm with my left arm, and he carried Chica’s leash. Cautiously, Chica trotted alongside him. I glanced at Chica and faintly smiled, realizing that... maybe we could train her to be Tyler’s service dog! That would definitely be interesting, ..but it was something we’d have to think about when this was all over. I focused on survival alone, trying to figure out how we were even going to do this. 

Once we were finally outside, we were relieved to see that it wasn’t a total desolate wasteland. Yeah, most of the plant life was dead, and lots of the buildings and houses were partially, or mostly, destroyed, but it looked like it had some hope. “So, ..um. How does everything look?” Tyler asked with a bit of hesitation. For a split second, I was confused, and I didn’t realize what he meant, but I then instantly remembered that he was blind “O-Oh, right... um” I stuttered, being taken a bit back by the question “It doesn’t look too bad. You can definitely tell that a bomb hit, ..but nothing’s completely destroyed. I guess the bomb dropped pretty far away from us”. Tyler nodded “That’s good. Should we find a place to stay?”. “Yeah, that’d be a good start. Stay close to me”. 

As we continued to walk, Chica and I stayed on high alert, making sure that no one was following us, or no kind of danger was around. Tyler just stayed close to me and firmly held my arm, his eyes aimlessly staring at nothing specific. About 20 minutes later, we finally stumbled upon an abandon house that wasn’t completely ruined. It was a two story home that had a large hole in the roof, and the windows completely shattered. The yard was dead, and the two trees that were on the property were pretty much wilting. It wasn’t the prettiest house, but it was our best option.

For the next 3 days, nothing exciting happened. We stayed inside, mostly bored. To occupy ourselves, we’d play with Chica, or just relax on the couch together and talk. Our phones lost battery charge the second day of being in the bunker, so we couldn’t contact anyone, or entertain ourselves. When each day passed, I just became more and more anxious; I knew the day would come when we’d have to find more food and water outside. Well, that day did eventually come, and when it did, Tyler and I argued if we should go together or not.

“I can’t take you with me, Tyler. I just can’t! You’d be completely defenseless. I...I can’t protect the both of us if a giant monster attacks” I told him sternly, absolutely refusing to take him with me. “But you can’t just go alone! At least take Chica with you, please!” Tyler replied desperately with an upset voice. “No, she should stay with you. You’ll both be safe here; you can protect each other”. 

Tyler huffed in frustration, crossing his arms as he leaned against the couch; Chica was laying next to him panting quietly. I looked at Tyler with great sympathy, knowing that this was all much harder on him than it was on me “Look, I’ll be back as soon as I can. Just please promise me you and Chica will both stay here. ..I...I’d lose it if either of you got hurt”. Tyler’s agitated expression quickly softened, and he sighed “Alright... I promise”. I sighed faintly and leaned down, giving Tyler a quick kiss to the forehead “I’ll be back before you know it” I scratched Chica’s head and also gave her a quick kiss before grabbing one of our bags and an axe. “Just so I don’t barge in and scare you when I get back, I’ll knock on the door one time so you know it’s me”. “Okay... Please hurry back”. “I will. See ya in a bit”.

As I trudged down the road, I thought about what would happen if I came across any threats. I’ve... never killed anything before, and I’ve never used an axe as a weapon. Anxiety surged through me as I thought of the possibility of having to kill an actual person. Maybe this would all end up like the “Fallout” games, where there’s bandits, raiders, and dangerous gangs. I hoped not.

To be honest, I wasn’t really sure of where I was heading. Maybe I could find some fish in a lake somewhere? Or better yet: maybe I could find an abandoned grocery store. I just needed to find edible food and drinkable water, and I needed to do it fast; I didn’t want to leave Tyler alone for too long.

After walking for what seemed to be hours, I froze in place when I heard the sound of a loud rustling. I looked over to my left, immediately discovering that it was just some birds that suddenly flew out of a dead tree, as if they were startled by my presence. I exhaled quietly, being relieved that it was nothing serious.

Then, out of nowhere, a searing pain struck my back, causing me to scream out and fall over. My hands quivered intensely as I shakily propped myself up onto my knees, feeling blood start to run down my sides. I winced in awful pain as I reached my hand back, feeling my torn shirt and bloody wounds. I turned around and frantically moved backwards, seeing that large, mutated, dog-rat thing. It looked like it was the same one from the bunker. It growled viciously as it slowly walked towards me, its teeth baring and its eyes glowing a dangerous red. My breathing was heavy, and I was still shaking from all the shock. Keeping my eyes locked with the monster’s, I repeatedly slapped my hand against the concrete, trying to find the axe that I dropped. My mind was racing---I couldn’t even think straight. The damn thing must’ve slashed its claws against my back, because I was bleeding badly, and the burning pain just wouldn’t subside.

The angry creature hissed and snarled, before raising its foreleg up and swiping its claws across my face. That same searing sensation returned, and in response, I shouted in pain and held my bleeding face, being at least thankful that the monster didn’t scratch out my eyes. 

I finally got over the shock, and quickly stood up, grabbed my axe, and started to run as fast as I could back home. The fear of passing out just motivated me to run faster, and so did the fact that the beast was starting to catch up on me. I was so terrified; I just wanted to run until it gave up, but I knew that would never happen. Knowing I had to do something, I waited for the right time, and when I felt confident enough to do it, I stopped in my tracks, whipped around, and swung the axe at the monster.

Luckily, the blade made a direct hit into the creature’s neck, killing it almost instantly. It fell over, and I just stood there panting heavily with my back slightly arched from the pain. Swallowing the hard lump in my throat, I unsteadily backed away, and then turned around to get back home.

Every step I took just tortured my wounds. I grimaced and whimpered, resisting the urge to fall over. I’ve been through surgery pain, intense emotional pain, and so much more, but this was definitely one of the worst pains I’ve ever felt.

When I finally got back to the house, I walked up to the door, knocked on it once, and then collapsed to the ground. As the world started to darken, the pain gradually faded away.

Tyler sat on the couch waiting for Mark to get back, getting more and more antsy by the second. Chica was laying next to him, her head in his lap. “He’s fine... I just... gotta stop panicking...” Tyler thought worriedly, although he didn’t listen to himself, since he just continued to wait impatiently. He scratched Chica‘s head, feeling comfort in her presence. Soon enough, he decided to just go to sleep, since there was literally nothing else to do.

The blind man laid down on the couch and got comfortable, getting all cozy with Chica. It took a while, but he eventually dozed off into a light sleep, where waking him up would be pretty easy.

Tyler slept for 20 minutes, until he heard a sudden knock on the door. He jolted upwards, getting startled at first, but he quickly smiled when he realized that it was Mark. He carefully moved Chica off of him and stood up from the couch. After taking a quick deep breath, he cautiously walked over to the door and held his hands out, so his hands could feel for the door knob. Tyler opened the door and didn’t see the blurry image of Mark that he was expecting. In fact, there seemed to be no one standing at the door. Confused and a little frightened, Tyler looked around, even though he was blind, and that really made no difference. He was just about to go back inside, when he looked down and saw Mark laying on the ground, unconscious.

Tyler gasped “M-Mark??”. When his love didn’t respond, he began to panic. He kneeled down and wrapped his arms around him, pulling him up and carrying him to the couch after closing the door from behind himself with his foot. Tyler gingerly placed Mark on the cushions, making Chica jump off and down to the floor. When Tyler felt a warm liquid on his hand, he held it up in front of his face, seeing a very blurry red. The smell in the air surrounding Mark’s body confirmed this liquid to be blood. Panicking even more, Tyler very carefully touched all around Mark’s body, trying to feel for wounds while also looking for the color red. He was able to find out that Mark had 3 long scratches that ran down his back diagonally, and his face had 3 scratches that horizontally went from the left side of his face to right below his right eye. Tears coated Tyler’s eyes, knowing that these claw marks would definitely scar up, since they felt so big and deep. He sniffled and wiped his face, standing up and hurrying over to one of their bags, where they kept a Med kit.

Tyler had to stop Mark’s bleeding, as well as bandage up his injuries. Being blind, Tyler had to feel around for everything. He knew his handiwork wouldn't be the best, but he had to do something, or Mark could die from blood loss.