#so anyway i put up some lights at work today

[dokyumms]

omg the mingyu fic is so good!!🩷🩷 Can you do sleepy Hoshi (because new cb!!) or Vernon? 🙈🙈 Your writing is amazing

duvet

pairings: hoshi x 14thmember!reader

genre: fluff

word count: 635

cw: none

a/n: thank you so much anon! this turned out way longer than i expected... i just decided to do another 14th member reader bc that's what i did for the mingyu one. it doesn't play that much of a role tho tbh. ALSO sorry about my inconsistent formatting; i'm still experimenting with it, but i will land on something soon. hope you enjoy this regardless (๑>◡<๑)

"i'm home～" you sing-song as enter you and hoshi's shared apartment. you don't really expect an answer, taking off your shoes and heading straight to the kitchen for a post work out snack. hoshi has been undoubtly busier than ever, preparing for a comeback just days after a tour- who decided this dumb schedule? like hell, you haven't even recovered from the last 15 aju nices. anyway, because of it, he started coming home later, so your evening routine has just been snacking, showering, waiting for hoshi to come home, falling asleep while waiting for him, and then waking up to him carrying you to your room. today, sadly, seems to be no different.

it isn't until you're practically in the fridge when you realize the kitchen light had already been on when you walked in. paranoid, you call out, "anyone home?"- no answer.

there's no way- did someone break in? you text hoshi: hey babe, did you forget to turn off the kitchen light before you left? pocketing your phone when he doesn't reply, you decide it was probably just you who forgot, still picking up a pan to protect you while you check every room in the house anyway.

after checking the laundry room, bathroom, pantry, and coat closet, you make your way to your room. you're about to open the door when you hear shuffling. "seriously?" you mutter, ready to take out whoever is in your apartment. swinging open the door, you scan the room. there's no one, well almost no one. you realize- no, it was not some burglar who was in your home- just an innocent little hoshi rustling around in his sleep with a tamtam plushie held to his chest.

you sigh in relief, putting the pan somewhere and walking toward the bed. "since when did he come home?" you ask yourself. inspecting him closely, you realize that hoshi really does look cute with tamtam. naturally, you pull out your phone to take a picture, snapping a photo before realizing your flash had automatically turned on. hoshi's brows furrow at the sudden light and he slowly blinks his eyes open. "y/n?" he murmurs while rubbing his eyes. "sorry hosh, my flash just turned on." you explain, smiling sheepishly before leaning down to give him a kiss on his head. you watch his eyes form small crescents in response before he tugs at your shirt, "come here,"

"babe, i haven't even showered-" you try to argue, but hoshi is already throwing tamtam across the room and pulling you into the bed. "just for five minutes," he whispers, draping his leg across your body. hoshi is always more cuddly than usual when he's tired like this, always koala-latching onto you. you don't even try to fight back, relishing in his warmth as he litters your face in small pecks. "i didn't expect you to be home early," you say. "me too, but i guess all my hard work has paid off. don't need to learn any new choreo." he opens his eyes again, lifting his head a little and looks at the pan you left on a nearby chair. "why's there a pan?" you don't respond, just giggling softly before opting to distract him with a kiss.

it's a slow, almost sensual kiss, neither of you having the energy for a full on make out session. he hugs his arms around your waist as you bring your hands to his neck in muscle memory. when you both part, he leans his forehead against yours, smiling softly. you love seeing hoshi like this: barefaced, cheeks a little flushes, and lips tugged into that adorable grin. he pulls you closer to him, nuzzling his head into your neck as he slowly begins to fall asleep again. you could really never get enough of this.

[iphoenixrising]

Hi! I just wanted to send you a message, firstly to wish you a happy new year! And secondly just to say that you’ve been providing incredible and free works of art for nearly a decade (probably longer, but it’s been nearly a decade since I first followed you!!) and I just wanted to thank you from the bottom of my heart for all the tireless work you’ve put in. I hope writing has been as much of a joy for you as reading has been for us! Wishing you a wonderful 2025 :))

Hi babe.

Ah, thank-you for the loves! It's so amazing to think you've been with me that long, you know? There's many of the fandom peeps that text me or send me messages that have literally been there since the first Tim Drake fic went out. My daughter was still a baby back then and she's in sixth grade now and is almost as tall as I am tbh. Crazy how much time has passed.

And, you know, the years I haven't been writing much because ah work and other interests as I finally spread out my fanfic wings to devour content rather than create, I still come back here and be amazed at the amount of fics and ficlets and stories and half-baked headcannons people are still finding and enjoying today. In the shitshow the US has become in the last year, it's a welcome feeling to know some of the depressed and down-trodden can find some kind of comfort in ass-kicking vigilantes, Doctors with hobbies, Omegas that can only run from what they need for so long, the real feeling of Welcome Home, the owfucks and attitudes and steamy accents, the birds that can only go forward - never back, the absolute slimy creep Ra's can turn out at the most inopportune moments, the array of named concussions to make them seem a little less bad, infinite cups of coffee and Grape Zestis, the cliffhangers that might never get finished, and a plethora of other things hidden in the dark niches of this blog.

Hopefully, someday I'll go back for my MA in Creative Writing and get out of Tech to do this, or a version of this, in real life. But, until I do, I might as well share just a bit of the next installment of the TimDick (maybe TimDickJay...?) Sentinel/Guide au, right?

Hm, why not? You can check it below the cut ;)

After turning down any attempt of his Sentinel to contact him (i.e. actually duck and dodging said stalkery behavior he is intimately familiar with), it all comes down to the basics less than a month after the disastrous discovery in a hotel room right after he'd played Wayne Enterprises CEO with the likes of Lex Luthor–

who will always and forever be King of the Douche Canoes, seriously

– the breakout at Black Gate is the most all hands on deck that's happened in Gotham in the last year.

Since several members of the Rogue Gallery teamed up to set the explosives, well, every Bat is expected to set-up in Gotham, and Red Robin, for as much as he's stayed the fuck out of their business in the last year, finds himself already in the city for a few meetings with Lucius about next quarter when the night sky outside Wayne Towers lights up with the very familiar symbol.

"Dammit," he breathes out, pretty much aware he could just ignore it. Considering Nightwing, the Red Hood, Batgirl, Black Bat, Robin, and B were all in the city tonight anyway.

(What's one more body between the people of Gotham and the baddies? Well, depends on the body, doesn't it?)

Lucius gives the usual suffering sigh he gives Brucie Wayne when the other mask falls away and leaves the vigilante behind.

"I guess we can pick this up tomorrow," the head of R&D tells him idly, scrolling through text alerts on his phone while Tim visibly reins himself back in to the new line of motherboards going into their medical cradles for military aid.

Tim just stays quiet for once because even though Lucius and Tam both know the big secrets, it's still not something they talk about unless a thorough sweep for bugs has happened in the last thirty minutes.

(Ninjas suck sometimes. #facts)

"It's fine. We still have a few more things we can cross off the list–" Tim starts, jaw tight when he turns away from the familiar symbol, when some things still fucking sting even though he's been doing his level-best to move the fuck forward.

Lucius hums at him and holds out his phone with a tight smile.

The quick update on Gotham's Track the Crime Spree app shows him exactly what's going down, and his truly epic facepalm is the loudest thing in the office.

**

The Batcomm he hacked is on mute, voices in his ear to keep up with the criminals spilling out of Blackgate and swarming the city. Not to mention some of the classics had a hand in making it happen.

The initial plan changes when the Bats start calling dibs on bad guys, throwing out their locations, heading toward the more-than-usual amount of mayhem.

He doesn't throw in on the convo, instead starts picking off the small fries that just happened to be more concerned with escaping and hiding than doing a fair amount of damage the second they hit Gotham proper.

(Really noobs)

He's running through alleyways, easy, fast, and furious to take down the low-level escapees with quick double zip ties for wrists and ankles, not even really working up a sweat.

He leaves the big times to the official night crew, deals with the small fries and enjoys the burn in his thighs as he runs.

Batgirl spots him, yelling out something before he's off again, not interested in some kind of reunion.

(And her low level shields make his back teeth ache with how vulnerable she is, how much she needs someone to strengthen them for her, how he could do it without working too hard... Dammit, the Guide in him is drawn to her with those pesky instincts he's been trying to get under control.)

His first big bad of the night comes in the form of–

Condiment King.

And just. 

This guy.

He really wishes he had the time to enjoy witty banter and a long, drawn-out fight with some heavy hits. Anything to stop him from the low-level buzz on the edge of his shields he knows is Nightwing. He zip ties Buddy Sandler to a light pole and his backpack of condiments to another, he gets one good one before it’s time to move on. 

“Well, I relish the win, but you and the rest are going back to jail. See ya next crime.”

Then he’s off, shooting a grapple, taking off into the night.

Mortimer Kadaver was already kidnapping a victim, and he gets a satisfying crunch when he breaks the guys nose after a look at the torture implements in the back seat of the stolen sedan. The citizen takes off without a look back, completely ignoring him to wait for the police.

He jumps on another stolen car, riding a few blocks at breakneck speed before he punches out the driver’s side window and steers the car himself.

(It’s fun when the low-level thugs don’t know what’s going on. “How are you not driving?!” “Tell the hand in the window to give me the wheel back!”)

He doesn’t get thrown when brains kicks in and the driving thug slams on the brakes, but it’s a close thing.

Instead, he’s trying not to smile when they tumble out the other side of the car on unsteady legs. It’s an easy KO when the city is literally going to shit over the comm in his ear.

Things get real when O calls everyone in on the West side where the bigger, badder B is apparently ready for a round 2 of the “break Batman’s back” challenge.

(It’s the worst possible time for that guy. The flash of memory, of being Dick’s Robin for the short stint, of working with him while Bruce had to train his body again to take on the mantle after Jean Paul had to admit defeat. The best times, the most painful memories. All of it swirling in his chest with the buzzing on the edge of his senses getting sharper, cutting into his shields. All the bullshit stories about True Pairs and here he is, tempting the bond with things like proximity and ass kicking.)

He hits the top of the water tower to check out the sitch, trying to stay out of sight, out of the way of the main family doing their things while Bane is hepped up on venom and swatting at Robin and Black Bat like flies.

No one has to say it while calling out strategy, but it’s a pretty obvious distraction play. Keep the Bats busy while the bulk of baddies get ghost. It’s classic Bane, really.

Since the venom is highly flammable and there’s a lot of vigilantes he doesn’t want to face, he does the next best thing - makes a plan.

It easy to drive KG Beast and the Baffler right up his grill without ever being seen by the Bats as the three big baddies smack into one another on the down swing of some stunning blows. 

A combination of smoke pellets, knockout gas, and bo to the back of the head puts them out for the count in a move even he didn’t think was crazy enough to work.

Slam dunk. It’s buy two and get one free day.

Even better, Black B and Rob were back far enough to miss him through the smoke even though his rebound was a top notch move even for a season vigilante.

Which is why it sucks when Polka-Dot Man actually gets the drop on him because honestly, that guy. He does deliver a stunning back kick to put the B-lister down, but it does make him see double for an important enough second.

“Daw, takin’ alla the fun outta my night, Pretender,” the Red Hood drawls from a rooftop above him, the glint off shiny .45s too bright in his spotty vision. “Nice a’ ya ta actually show the fuck up fer once.”

“Honestly,” he banters back while the woozy sensation fades to a low grade headache, “how many asses in spandex does one city need?”

He gets a chuckle rather than a bullet to the head, so that is most certainly a win.

The drawback of gaining attention of the Red Hood, however, is the lack of duck and dodge that really is part of his new pseud.

Hood literally throws him over a shoulder and dives off the Wallstone Apartments while Red is still reeling from the blow, bellowing out when a meaty arm clamps on the back of his kicking legs in a very subtle warning.

“Leggo!”

“My ass. Stop yer squirming, fucker.”

“How about we compromise. Let me go and you can kick someone else’s ass?”

“Nice try. Like I dunno who yer really running from?”

“I’m fighting crime, not running you asshole!”

“Sure, sure. Ya know what they say. De Nile ain’t just a river in Egypt.”

“I don’t even live here anymore!”

“Oh? Can’t wait ta tell B ya just said that, Timmer.”

“I’m not his responsibility, didn’t you get the memo?”

Wind in his hair over the bad section of bail bondsmen and sleazy villain insurance. The plan forms while Red Hood arches his back to throw them both high in the air before the second grapple *zings* and latches on.

“I said th’ same thing at one time. Ya already know bout that shit, an’ how B didn’t give one fuck ‘bout what I hadda say.”

“The difference is you’re actually part of the fucking family, Jason!”

“Mmhm. Keep onnit, Replacement. M’comm is gettin’ alla this, n’ ya know it.”

“So what? No one’s bothered giving a crap  so far!”

Did he get hit with a truth serum or is this just the concussion talking? 

(R - Randal, Randal the concussion is awful and he should really stop this messy truth shit no one needs to hear.)

“Come off’n it, Timmy. Like ya don’t already know B gotcha tracked within an incha yer life? Think he just gonna let the smart one run off wi’ Shiva fer fuck’s sake?”

Even with Randal being a pain in the ass, Red has a terrifying moment of panic. They know. They all know.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure, sure. Tell that ta Dickie why dontcha? I ain’t seen ‘in that pissed off inna hot minute.”

“He already knows-“

“Does he really now? Why don’tcha tell ole’ Jace all ‘bout it, hm?”

His voice through the synths sounds very not inviting.

“Randall is a fucker and he needs to lay off,” which has Hood laughing even if he doesn’t know what Red means by any of it.

They land it with a jolt — right in the middle of a brawl.

Which is just about the speed he really needs right now anyway.

Black Bat swings by with a screaming escapee dangling from one hand by his ankle while she smiles under the stitched-up mask and gives him a happy wave. The comm in his ear hasn’t fallen out so he knows the others are spaced out, corralling the others with the help of GCPD.

So, the fight is on a little more than he originally thought.

But still, the burn feels better than the low-grade concussion and the pulsing heat of Sentinels (of his Sentinel), close by. He knows Jason’s shields are fractured, held together by pure stubborn will. He knows Steph is a few blocks down, whooping it up with her shields scarily open for her senses to reach far enough out to track stragglers. B is held together the best of them all, but Dami is developing his senses now and his control is sporadic at best.

Punching the shit out of thugs takes some of the weight off the knowledge, doesn’t completely distract him from his own instincts, but distracts his brain just enough.

Leg sweeps, palm to the nose, kick to the back of the knees, a spinning whirlwind of ass kicking, back-to-back with Hood, spit blood when he takes a hit, clench his teeth when he feels the strain on Nightwing close enough to make his skin burn with it.

His chest is heaving by the time the groaning pile of bodies is down for the count and the red and blue is lighting up the night on their way. He scrambles for a grapple gun while Black B and Hood are finishing up the zip ties. But when he points it the way he wants to go, his finger won’t squeeze the trigger.

“Clean-up’s goin’ all right,” Hood reports, nudging his shoulder with the hand still holding the .45. “Lookin’ like B’s gotch some a’ th’ bomb residue ‘case ya wanna get in on that, nerd.”

“Like you’re much better,” Red rasps out, grapple in his lowered hand trembling, the pounding in his head worse than any concussion.

He knows what this is, the only thing it can be.

“Mmhm. ‘Least I don’t need a fuckin’ engraved invitation ta come back ta the Cave.”

Red’s head whips around, the whiteouts on the mask narrow in a who the fuck are you talking to? kind of way.

Hood crosses his arms over his massive chest because the guy knows when he’s feeding someone a line.

Welp, since everyone already knows apparently.

Right in front of the helmet, Red Robin shoves the grapple back in his belt and deactivates the right gauntlet with his left hand. The helmet cocks to the side in question, but Red moves with fluid grace and speed, even with Randall riding his cape, and slaps his palm on the only bare skin available, on the side of the Red Hood’s neck.

His instincts jump immediately and reach out to the dangerous cracks and crumbles in the Red Hood’s shields, the painful red throbbing of shields crumbling.

He might hear a noise out of the synths, might imagine it because what does Jason Todd owe him really?

But it’s easy, just like putting together the pieces of evidence from a crime scene. The fractured plates protecting Hood are hot to work with, a sharp sting across his brain pan (something that could be from the Pit or be just natural Jason Todd, zombie Sentinel extrodinaire), eases down with the pieces coming together, strengthening, forming a stronger metaphysical shield to give Jason a measure of peace from his own overwhelming senses. It’s a  the relief of relaxing a clenched fist after the fight.

The reason Sentinels need Guides.

(Well, there’s more to it than just that, isn’t there? And Red’s brain can’t help but flinch back to those dreams, to a voice in his ear and hands on him — Guide mapping, his dream Sentinel whispered against skin.)

Red doesn’t manage to stop Hood from sinking to his knees in the aftermath, downed criminals, things on fire, GCPD almost on top them, and Black B nearly vibrating out of her mask next to them, hands hovering and afraid to touch.

Instead, he feels the reverberation of that deep noise coming straight out of the Red Hood’s chest. The relief under the constructed shield thick between them while they stand in the middle of the street.

That growling purr is almost enough, almost enough, to stop him from turning on his heel.

But the gloved hand snags the hem of his cape stops him in his tracks. his eyes blow wide behind the whiteouts and he sees a second of Hood's emblem before his literal savior, Cass, snaps him up and throws him over her shoulder before she takes off.

The night takes a turn for a "what the fuck?" when he and Black B take a few pauses to double team some of the baddies when the Red Hood loses them close to Robinson Park.

Things got more dicey when N spots them taking out Joyful Noise before the sonic blaster destroys yet another pointless sculpture. The comms erupt in a whole lot more noise in the shit show his "duck and cover crime fighting" night has devolved into.

(He's not going to focus on how his head is just a little sore instead of Randall being a right pain in the ass, isn't going to think about the implications here. He can't focus and keep moving through the baddies if he has a sane moment to wonder if it was that easy because he also...Jason-)

They manage to evade the Bats (mostly), ignoring the cajoling and usual back-and-forth once they realize Red Robin is part of crime time.

Cass does him an absolutely solid, driving them to his other, other underground bunker, letting him hang his head against her back while the air hitting them reeks of smoke, burning plastic, and gasoline. He doesn't get the underlying tinge of metal, blood, and fear -- that was from Jason's head while those shields were coming together nicely.

(When he's a full continent away, he'll have him moment of panic, but until then, Cass is totally not addressing the very obvious elephant in the bunker.)

She stays for post-patrol snacks, producing a family-sized box of Cheez-Its and some Alfred sandwiches that are somehow still cold.

They do the usual throwing off sweaty top layers, domino and mask, stare at two episodes of The Office with Zestis from the mini-fridge in the corner.

One-handed signs while they chew, hit a quick patch up job, and the night is finally over.

Cass checks the Batchat to make sure everyone made it out of the city after one hell of a night and gives no reply to the questions about Tim, much to everyone’s dismay.

The next shift of GCPD is coming on, so the city is secured for another day. She produces a backpack and changes into soft leggins, runners, and a hoodie he's pretty sure is Bruce's.

Tim does a good job on her knuckles, and she gives him a kiss on the forehead, makes him promise to stay away from screens and not to sleep for a few hours yet.

After she takes off, he breathes out a long, breath, collapses on the overstuffed couch a minute before going to the lower levels, thinking about catching up on paperwork before he's got to meet with Lucius again. A nice shower, some coffee, and he could do some work, take an actual moment --

("True Pairs, an honest Sentinel and Guide relationship, can include sharing such effects of injuries.")

He shakes the thought out, rolls his neck, and picks up his discarded utility belt, trying to find as many things to divert his attention to as possible.

The door to his lower levels slides silently open under his fingerprint and an intensive alphanumeric code, but some premonition sends a familiar chill down his spine, the vestiges of the old Robin instincts.

[captainjonnitkessler]

Listen. Listen to me. This is important. Some day, the institute you work at might decide to renovate a building, or construct a new one. And when the architect comes to show you the designs, he will show you lighting packages. You will see pictures of sleek, streamlined, energy-efficient lighting fixtures. The architect will tell you that the standard 2x2 ceiling lights are boring, clinical, impersonal. He will tell you that you need the fancy and expensive lighting fixtures to make yourselves look cool and future-focused.

THE ARCHITECT IS LYING TO YOU. LISTEN TO ME. HE'S LYING.

He will sell you elegance and grace. What you will *receive* is a bunch of plastic shit that falls apart while it's being put up, comes mislabeled and missing parts, isn't replaceable if a light fails, and will make your electricians hate you so so so much. There is NOTHING wrong with the 2x2 lights. Stop trying to reinvent the mousetrap and NEVER trust an architect.

[icewindandboringhorror]

I made a few new wax seal stamps out of clay (like the ones I did for my worldbuilding stuff forever ago), this time just of random symbols that I thought might look good done in the style of painting over the raised part of the wax or etc. :0c Some of them aren't carved deep enough to really show up that well, but overall they worked okay for being clay lol

[orcelito]

Honestly why am I fucking Like This

[phagodyke]

not that this means anything to anyone but v4 (yellow) I'm rly proud of finally fucking getting at the gym today its taken me 3 visits over the last 3 weeks to nail it. woof......

[citizen-zero]

WIBTA for taking advantage of my boss’ possible manic episode?

I know this already sounds bad but hear me out.

So I (30M) am the sole employee of this guy (62M) who’s honestly just a miserable boss and an even more miserable person. It sucks so bad working for him—the pay is horrendous, he’s verbally abusive, and the working conditions are awful (in the winter I literally have to stay bundled up the whole work day because he refuses to put the heat on in the office). He wouldn’t even give me holidays off if it wasn’t for the fact that there’s basically nothing to do those days because everywhere else is closed. I’m almost positive he unironically thinks poor people should die if they can’t work. His nephew (aka his only living relative and just the nicest guy) came by yesterday to invite him to Christmas dinner and he told him he’d see him in hell.

I cannot stress this enough—it’s BAD. I’d quit, but it’s been hard finding a better job and I’ve got four kids at home, including one with special needs.

Anyway, so here’s where I’m wondering if I’d be the asshole. Today was Christmas Day and he showed up at my house out of nowhere (huge red flag, I know). At first I thought he’d forgotten I had the day off and he was here to chew me out, which was worrying enough, but then his whole demeanor changed and he was super happy and excited and talking about how he was going to raise my salary. He even mentioned possibly making me a partner in the firm.

Now if that was it, I’d feel a little weird about the suddenness of it but it’d be fine. I’m not going to complain about having more money to feed my family. But then he started talking about how he wanted to pay our mortgage off. He talked about wanting to pay for our son to get the very expensive medical care that’s probably going to save his life. He mentioned at one point that he was going to be donating a huge amount of money to charity too—I knew he was rich but it staggered me. All this from a guy who doesn’t (didn’t?) even want to turn on the heat or the lights because it costs too much money.

It was such a sudden and drastic change that happened very literally overnight and now I’m kind of concerned he’s having a manic episode or something. I really, really want to accept his sudden generosity (I probably will; my wife is all for it and thinks he owes it to us), and I would love to believe that he’s truly had a sudden change of heart (an actual Christmas miracle lol) but I’m just worried about the possible consequences of accepting huge financial gifts like this from someone who I believe might be experiencing some kind of break from reality. Even if there’s nothing legally wrong with it, I’m worried about the ethics of it.

TLDR, my asshole boss might be in the middle of a mental breakdown. WIBTA if I accepted his offer to pay off my mortgage and my son’s medical expenses?

[illdothehotvoice]

You ever do the thing you've been putting off and then youre mad at yourself for putting it off cause it took like 2 hours at most???

[sukunasweetheart]

Sukuna, a middle aged man jaded by the harsh realities of his life. He steps outside for a smoke nearby a convenience store, completely bored out of his mind.

A lady is handing out flyers nearby, although nobody is bothering to look her way, including sukuna himself.

You approach the man who's getting irritated by the lighter that refuses to work in his hand.

"Hello there, sir. Would you be interested in taking up classes for arts and craft?" You offer the cute flyer up.

Sukuna scoffs. Is she serious?

"No thanks."

"Are you sure? You look like you could use a bit more colour in your life."

He's too exhausted at this point to get angry at a random woman on the street.

"...You're not too far off, i suppose," sukuna mutters, still trying to get the spark to stay on his lighter. "Even so, I'm not interested in the likes of arts and craft. Do i look like a child to you?"

You withdraw your offer of your flyer, and inspect him for a moment.

"Arts and craft can be enjoyed by anyone, regardless of age. But moving past that... you seem a bit down. If you'd like to confide in a stranger for a night, I'm happy to listen."

What a strange, persistent woman. Sukuna gives up on his lighter, and takes out the unlit cigarette in his mouth to think back for a moment. One thing does come to mind.

"I'm not feeling down. But i remembered something, now that i think about it..." he confesses, feeling weirdly compelled to tell you about it.

"Today is supposed to be my birthday."

Birthdays have never been special to him. Nobody celebrated his birth as a child, and in turn, he's never paid attention to the birthdays of others.

"Oh, happy birthday. Are you doing anything special for yourself today?"

"No. I've never cared for birthdays. And I'm getting too old for that anyway."

"Well, that won't do... Hold on for a second."

Puzzled, sukuna looks back at you but you've already gone inside the convenience store. Whatever you're up to now, couldn't possibly be more enticing than getting in a proper smoke right now. Sukuna begins to zone out.

He only snaps out of it when something mildly cold grazes past his cheek, leaving a ticklish and moist sensation on his skin as it disappears upon impact.

Bubbles. Bubbles are flying past him, and floating away into the sky.

For a moment, he gets mesmerised by the swirl of colours that are harboured in each one. Even just from the light of this dingy street, they fly up while holding a multitude of different colours inside them. Time seems to slow for a split second, and he doesn't understand why.

His gaze follows the trail to identify it's source. And unsurprisingly, it's you, standing behind him. You blow a couple more out, and then grin at him childishly. He finally looks at your face properly for the first time.

"Birthday bubbles. For the birthday man," you chuckle sheepishly, knowing that you probably look a bit silly right now. You put the bubble wand back into the small bottle of the soapy mixture, and screw it tightly.

"Here, you can have it. Next time you're feeling a bit antsy, why don't you try blowing some yourself? They're pretty, aren't they?"

You also hand him a different small item.

"And i also threw in a little something else, while i was at it."

He looks down, and sees that it's a new lighter. He slowly pulls his hand out of his pocket to take both of them from your hands.

"I hope you get to do something more special next year. Birthdays are supposed to be joyful, after all," you comment.

"Thanks for putting up with my nosiness. Farewell."

And then you leave him after a quick wave.

Sukuna stares wordlessly as you walk off, wondering what to name this ticklish feeling rising in the pit of his stomach.

The small bottle in his palm reminds him of a moment in his childhood. Kids in the park bragging about their bubble wands that were gifted to them. the laughs that resounded as they all ran off to catch the fragile spheres as they blew away in the wind. The tiny feelings of envy in his heart.

The item he tucks away into his pocket is the lighter. And when nobody is watching, he blows a couple more bubbles into the night sky.

-

Every time he passes by that convenience store, the thought of you comes to his mind. A flashback of your smile in the back of his mind. Every so often, he comes to this particular store. Despite having closer options, he comes to this specific one.

At times, sukuna regrets not taking one of the flyers that you were handing out. He wouldn't have had to mope around a convenience store in hopes of running into you again.

Today is a rainy day, and this calls for a hot piping cup of instant ramen. He doesn't usually enjoy convenience store food, but he wants a reason to stay around inside for a bit longer.

He needs to wait five minutes for the noodles to soften. In this time, he stares out the glass frame of the store, and watches the various rows of people walking past with their umbrellas opened.

There appears to be one anomaly in the crowd, however. Running without shelter from the rain, clutching her bag as if it contains something important in there. Sukuna realises that it's you.

Forgetting about his instant ramen, sukuna grabs his umbrella and dashes out the door.

You're mildly panicking about being stuck behind the red light at the zebra crossing without anything to save you from the rain, but the sensation of the droplets hitting your body come to a stop all too suddenly.

You look up, and there's a black umbrella sheltering you, big and strong looking. You spin around and recognise the stranger with pink hair and sharp eyes. Seemingly out of breath.

He signals to the light that has now turned green behind you, and ushers you forward to cross the road before you can say anything to him.

Now safely on the other side of the road, you begin to converse with him.

"It's you! Hello. Thank you for sheltering me. How have you been?"

"... So-so. Nothing's changed since the last time we met."

"I see. You look better than last time, though." You get the feeling that his eyes have a little more light in them.

Sukuna doesn't really get what you mean, but he moves on.

"What’s in your bag that's so important for you to be protecting it like that?" He asks, effectively changing the topic.

"Oh, this? I literally just bought some brand new origami paper... i can't risk getting them wet and unusable. The children would be disappointed."

"Origami, huh? How original."

"Hey! That's not all... there's a lot of options i offer them. They voted on origami this time."

"You got a lot of people signed up?"

"Not really... but I'm sure it'll start picking up soon. Slowly, one at a time."

You smile up at him hopefully.

"...is the offer still open?"

You cock your head to the side slightly, confused. Sukuna grits his teeth, feeling a little bashful about having to ask more specifically.

"You know. Lessons for grown adults."

"Oh! Of course, anytime! Would you like to come sign up today?"

"Do you offer one-on-one sessions too?"

"Yes, I do."

"Alright. Let’s go."

Sukuna can't fathom the words that are coming out of his own mouth. But fuck it, what's the worst that could happen? You've somehow intriged him, and he can't think of a better way to approach you.

You chatter his ears off along the way, and he nods along while his shoulder gets wet from the way he leans his umbrella closer to your side.

[razrbladekiss]

CRAVE | Joel Miller

SUMMARY: there’s only one thing that joel craves, and it isn’t the mental fucking torture of an overly stubborn twenty-something teasing him ‘til he’s blue in the face. and balls.

PAIRING: dbf!joel miller x afab!reader. legal unspecified age gap.

WARNINGS: MINORS DNI, 18+ CONTENT BELOW THE CUT. alcohol consumption. pervy old man joel. reader’s dad (i’ve named him sorrrry) is there before joel gets pervy. some religious themes and also descriptions of religion in a negative light (this is MY experience with christianity, if you do not agree then please don’t read), no explicit smut but descriptions of what joel wants to do to youuuu so: mentions of piv, cock-riding, oral f!receiving, choking if you squint, dirty talk asf, joel being cocky which leads to his cock being sad and alone. reader is cunty. not proof-read ‘cus, once again, i’m a lazy bitch and i don’t have time for that. enjoy. 🫶🏻

An end to craving is an end to suffering.

Today’s last stream of sunlight fulgurates through the branches of your father’s prized Texas Ash, hitting perfectly the dime-sized crucifix situated comfortably between two pert tits sheathed in sheer black cotton.

Joel tries not to stare, but it’s impossible. He’s been watching you all fucking night. Every time you get up, he’s been glued to your ass. Whenever you lean over, Joel can’t seem to pry his eyes away from your cleavage. The more he’s been drinking, the more brazen he’s been with his stolen glances.

When your father rambles about some work-related spiel—and you’re sitting so innocently across the way—he can’t help affixing his eyes to the swell of your breasts. Wondering what it’d be like to touch, and grope, and suck on them.

Your mother was right about him. For all of the years that she knew Joel while your parents were together, she’d always say that he was trouble. A good-for-nothing, splenetic, perverted old-man who was but a bad influence. And you never noticed, never cared. You always thought that he was a great friend, and a stand-up guy.

Until today. Until you saw him scrutinizing your form—in front of your dad—you had a lot more respect for Joel. But now you realize that your mother was right. He is a perv. But—fuck—do you love that.

You’re not sure what you enjoy more—disrespecting your insane Catholic mother, or knowing that Joel is undressing you with his eyes—but you can’t help yourself feeding into his fantasy.

“Daddy?” Your father hums, not entirely bothered by the fact that you’ve just interrupted his conversation. He smiles. “Do you want another beer?”

“Please, hon.” He hands you his empty bottle, mumbling something about how he was going to get himself one and that you don’t need to. But you insist.

The blanket over your thighs is being discarded, hiking your dress up with it. Joel gets a glimpse of your lace panties that he likes to imagine you wore just for him, and shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

Bare, supple skin is on display as you get up from the deck chair. You turn to him with a prurient twinkle in your eye, and ask if he wants a drink too. “Yeah, another won’t hurt. I’m already pretty—“ he hiccups, “pretty far gone, anyway.”

Dad laughs while you saunter to the cooler and make a big show of bending over, completely unaware of the way Joel is trying to conjure up a plan to get you alone tonight. But then…

“Same ‘ere, bud.” He laughs before he’s nodding toward Joel. “Stay the night, if ‘ya wanna. I mean, you’re in no fit state to drive—none of us are—and I got a spare bedroom.”

His nose scrunches up, as if to decline, before you’re turning around with two unopened beers and a small bottle of wine. Your hand wraps around the neck almost romantically, leaving very little to his imagination.

“Yeah, you might as well stay, Miller.” You put down the beers on the table, still holding firmly the Merlot. “I’m stayin’. I got nowhere to be in the mornin’, and dad bought breakfast stuff.”

Two brown eyes are latched to each of yours, and you feel beads of perspiration roll through the valley of your breasts. Despite the evening cooling down, you’re stifling beneath his unyielding gaze.

“Alright, I’ll stay.” Joel concedes. He takes his can and cracks it open, lifting it up to cheers your father. “S’long as you’re makin’ me breakfast, Gary.”

Dad salutes and you smile, sinking into the purple cushion with a satisfied hum. You ogle Joel, biting fiercely the skin of your bottom lip. And it doesn’t go unnoticed.

Joel swigs his beer—letting your dad drunkenly ramble—and doesn’t take his eyes off of you. Wondering how he’s going to make you pay for torturing him like this.

But this hadn’t been your intention when Joel showed up to watch the Cowboys v Browns game this afternoon. In fact, him staying past nine o’clock was completely unintentional and if it weren’t for your dad pumping him full of Coors and Old Milwaukee, he’d be fast asleep at this very moment.

He supposes that he doesn’t mind, being here. Especially because he’s buzzed—still able to speak and think coherently, which is surprising—and gets to spend some rare time with you. Even if it is with your dad.

You watch them converse—the way that friends do—admiring how patient Joel is with him despite him being a little bit too inebriated for his own good. He’s the kind of friend that your old man needs; understanding, forbearing. And it baffles you that they’ve not known one another for longer than seven years, but surmise that they’d definitely be best friends in every other timeline because they just work so well.

But it’s the thought of them being friends—brothers—that urges feelings of unease. Trepidation. Gary’ll have a cow if he finds out the way that his so called buddy has been making googly eyes at his little girl’s titties for the last eight hours.

Joel senses the shift in attitude—you’re not teasing him now—and turns the topic of conversation to you. Dad doesn’t mind, though. Never minds talking to—or about—his kid.

“What made you stay in with us oldies tonight, huh?”

Wine is being swiveled around the glass before you take it back in one swig. A grimace flits over your features, but they both catch it.

“Didn’t feel like hittin’ the bars.” Candidly, you say. It’s refreshing. “Can’t be dealin’ with pervy old men tryna touch me.”

Less refreshing.

Joel’s blood runs cold, and you smirk. He swallows thickly the liquid acrimony bubbling from the chasms of his throat. He wants to screw that stupid grin off of your face—stuff his cock straight between those plush lips and throat fuck you ‘til you’re crying and gasping for air.

He just nods instead of saying anything.

“I’ll kill anyone that touches you.” Dad says, not sensing Joel’s sudden frigid state. “Seriously. ‘Specially if it’s an old fuckin’ degenerate asshole—“

“Alright, Gary.” You halt the hate train, pouring the last few dregs of wine into your glass. “No need to get all protective. No old coot is comin’ anywhere near me.”

You look directly at Joel when you say; “old men can’t do what guys my age can, anyway.”

Dad grimaces. Joel scoffs. You can’t help smiling, feeling very proud of yourself.

“Y’know, you’re still my kid? And hearing this shit is nasty.” Your father tells you around a burp, and realizes that this might be the time to call it a night.

He’s never been able to handle his alcohol, especially after being married to your psychotic beer-loathing, hymn-signing, prayer-group-leading, holier-than-though moronic fucking mother.

He lets himself get too drunk too fast, now. Ever since she went back to Kansas—which was totally code for I fucked the priest and got extradited from the church—he’s really let his hair down, and you’d be lying if you said this version of your old man wasn’t the very best. Because he’s living his life the way that he wants to, now.

It’s nice.

“It might be nasty, but ‘least you don’t have to worry about me bringing home a man your age. Or even worse; older.”

Gary gets to his feet—knees clicking and cracking as he does so—and nods. “‘Spose that’s true, kid.”

Joel. Is. So. Fucking. Pissed.

As you say your goodnights—and put on a few lights so that your dad doesn’t trip over his own feet—Joel is mentally counting down the minutes until he gets you alone on this damn patio. He’s determined to make you regret the few little comments that you’ve made tonight.

“Don’t stay up too late. Y’know how cranky ‘ya get with no sleep.” Dad reminds you. “You too, Miller.”

You hum your response, lifting your empty glass and indicating that you’ll be retiring to your room soon, too.

“Night dad.”

“Night, pumpkin.” He turns to Joel. “Make sure she ain’t up too late.”

He nods and shifts his gaze to you, eyes darkening. “Yessir. I’ll put her to sleep.”

Your father grunts and slides the patio door to close. Leaving his daughter and best friend alone together might be the biggest mistake that he’s ever going to make.

Joel watches him intently behind the glass door, heeding him stumble across the tile. He might be about to rearrange your guts, but he at least wants to be courteous.

Your legs squeeze together, for the only sound you hear is the reverberation of Joel’s I’ll put her to sleep in that sexy, beer-slick tone.

He sees it.

“She makin’ ‘ya squirm?”

You blink at him. “I beg your pardon?”

“Your pussy.” Joel—as candid as ever—elaborates. “Is she flutterin’ ‘cus ‘a me?”

The fallout of a chemical bomb would be much more appealing than having to look Joel in the eye after such a lewd statement.

“Don’t worry if so. I have that effect on the ladies.”

“Makin’ yourself sound like a slut, Miller.” Coolly, you respond. Your hand is reaching for a can of beer, twining fingertips around the base while another pulls the tab.

Two eyes screw shut when a spritz of alcohol is flushing over your face, neck and chest. Droplets of Bud trickle between those perfect tits that Joel’s eyes have almost burned fucking holes into; forcing even the horniest man on planet earth to render himself utterly speechless.

You trail a finger through the valley of your breasts, collecting the sticky liquid before you’re putting it straight into your mouth; sucking it clean. Your eyes are locked on Joel’s.

“What? Cat got your tongue?”

Slowly, he shakes his head. The sight before him is truly one to behold; his friend’s sweet daughter with her fingers between her tits out in the patio. Nobody’d ever believe him if he told them this. Joel probably wouldn’t even fucking believe himself.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t ’ya?” Is what he says in response. He’s quick witted, you’ll give him that. “My tongue stuck in your pretty little pussy—“

Heat flashes over you.

“You’re fucking vile.”

“Ain’t that the way it’s meant’a be?” He lurches forward, and your eyes travel to the small opening of his shirt’s midsection that highlights perfectly the fact that he hasn’t a base layer beneath the flannel.

You see a small patch of hair; brown, and gray and seems a little fuzzy. It’s a sudden reminder that this man is a smidge too old for you. But you can’t find it in yourself to care very much.

“Don’t think so.” Trying to out-douche him, you respond. Joel’s thick fingers are twined together, hands resting over the peaks of his knees. “Think youre meant’a have some kinda respect for me. Y’know, as my dad’s buddy, ‘n all.”

Joel snorts a laugh.

“I’d have respect for ‘ya, but the way that peachy fuckin’ ass was in the air when ‘ya bent over the cooler tells me that daddy’s ’lil girl is more of a slut than me.”

Your jaw rolls. Reaction: gauged.

He inches nearer to you; slimy grin plastered across rough, rugged features. “Only pullin’ your leg, hon. I know you’re no slut. Too much of a prissy bitch—“

“Oh, really?” Irked, you spit.

Joel nods. Pushing at your buttons has never been much of a difficult feat. It’s something that he quite enjoys, actually.

“Mhm, yeah.” The man is leaning backwards in his chair, now. Arms folded behind his head; hands pressed against his dark curls. “Gonna have to prove that you ain’t like your mama.”

Your blood boils. And then it runs cold.

“Don’t gotta prove shit to you.” You defend. Very defensively.

“No, that’s right. Don’t gotta do nothin’, kiddo.”

You see the outline of his dick as it stiffens within the confines of his dark, navy-denim jeans. He’s actually getting off on this.

“Unless you want to—“

“Nah, I’m good.” You’re leaning back, now, lifting your legs to sit criss cross applesauce. The barely-covering-your-crotch sheer fabric of your thong catches his eye; a glint of something wicked flickers through them as he clears his throat.

If you’re playing the long game, then so is he. He can out-stubborn anybody.

“So I’ve heard.” He jabs, insinuating that you’re a prude. Again. “Can prove ‘em all wrong, if ‘ya wanna.”

It’s killing him, this. It’s torture. But he’s strong. Ish.

You shake your head, reaching for your almost-empty can of beer. You’re taking another long pull, making a dramatic show of tilting your head back and puffing out your chest as you do so. His lips purse.

“I’m good.” You tell him again with a syrupy smile. “Rather we just talk. Y’know—be civilized, ‘n all.”

His arms are moving to the sides of his deck chair, now. Joel’s tongue runs along his bottom lip. He gives a quick bob of his head.

“Yeah, we can talk.” His eyes zone in on your pussy; the engorged wet patch situated on the part of fabric that kind-of clothes your cunt. His mouth waters. “But what’ll we talk about, baby girl?”

Another surge of pleasure oozes out from between your thighs, turning what was once a purple thong into a jet-black one. Joel doesn’t mind, though. The sight is sweet; it’s prurient, in some sick way.

“Hm.” You pretend to think, all the while spreading your legs a little bit more. He sees perfectly the outline of your folds as fabric hugs and highlights the inner workings of your beautiful anatomy. “Why don’t we start with what you’re thinkin’ about, Mr. Miller?”

A weakness of his, that is. You referring to him as Mr. Miller has always gotten him hot. It’s innocent, almost. It’s like that’d been engrained into your brain by the god-fearing fruit-loop that brought you up, and you can’t quit saying it in these situations.

“Oh, doll. Not sure you’ll wanna hear what I’m thinkin’ of.” His tone is rough, now. Like 180 grit sandpaper against the wooden walls inside of your fucking brain. You hum.

Mentally, Joel’s cock is spearing open the tight hole between your legs; making you scream his name. He’s thrusting his prick up into your cervix while you ride him like he’s the last cowboy on earth, desperate to feel a kind of pleasure that no man your age could ever bestow upon you.

In his head, he’s picturing your crucifix dangling in his face while you’re pleasuring yourself on his length; glistening with sweat, and cum, and Sierra Nevada. Howling at his girth, speechless at the size of him.

He wants nothing more than to wrap a hand around the base of your throat and fuck you into next week; feeling damp walls contract and seize around his cock—

“No.” You snap him back to reality; halting his train of thought. “No, you can tell me. I’m a big girl, I can take it.”

Oh, I’m fuckin’ sure she can.

“Fine.” He clears his throat. “Just thinkin’ of stufin’ that warm ‘lil cunt with my big ‘ol cock, ‘s’all.”

“Oh, is that all?” Your tone is teasing.

Joel does not like to be teased.

“If you’d shut your fuckin’ mouth, I’d be able to finish.”

In a moment of pure, unapologetic submission, you nod. The skin of your bottom lip is getting fucking gnawed at by your teeth in an attempt to conceal a moan.

It works. Kind of.

“What was I sayin’…” He strives to recall his last few words; and then he remembers. “Oh, yeah. Stretchin’ out that cute pussy ‘a yours.”

That cute pussy ‘a yours, is twitching. Fuck that, it’s pulsating.

“And you’re so sure of that? You being able to stretch me out, I mean.”

“Dead sure, angel face.” He quips. “I know for a damn fact that you’d be havin’ trouble takin’ my fat cock all in one go; be cryin’ for everyone to hear.”

Through long, thick lashes, you stare at him.

“You’d be seein’ stars; and not just the ones above us right now.”

You look up to the sky and hope to alleviate some of the mental pain being bestowed upon you right now. Which is entirely your own doing, of course.

Joel shifts in his seat so that he’s a little bit more sunken, able to heed clearly the sickly sweetness blanketing the chair you’re on.

“I’ll eat your pussy, too.”

Your attention is snapped back down to Joel, now. Your brows raise.

“Suck your soul right out from between your legs.”

“Oh, Joel.” You moan, a little. He lets his eyes shut for a brief moment, only to open them again to find you taking off your panties.

It’s like Christmas fucking day, this.

“I’d love for you to take me right here; fill me up on one ‘a the sunloungers.” You’re getting off your chair, and Joel’s heart is starting to pound within the chasms of his chest.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

You’re walking toward him; thong in hand. Fingers wreathed through soaked purple cotton.

“Can’t think of anything that’ll bring me more pleasure than you fuckin’ me ‘til I’m crying. Or gasping for air.”

“You ‘n me both, beautiful.”

You smile. You give Joel your underwear, before you’re running your fingers through his hair and he’s letting a hand glide up the meat of your thigh and beneath your skirt.

“Just a shame, ain’t it.”

“What’s a shame, sugar?”

The feeling of his fingertips—calloused and covered in rough skin—is almost orgasmic. But you’re stronger than what he is. So you pull yourself away from his hold, and begin to feel an unwavering sense of need. You shirk it, though.

You’re leaning into him now, breasts pressed against his shoulder, lips touching the shell of his ear. Goosebumps prickle over his neck and you assume that they’re making their way down south, too.

“Huh?” He says to get your attention, for you still haven’t answered. “What’s a shame?”

Fingertips trace over broad shoulders enveloped in soft, warm flannel. You’re leaning closer; hot breath on his skin. Your lips part to whisper:

“If daddy ever found out about this, he’d kill ‘ya.”

“Baby—“

You’re taking the panties from his hand, and tucking them into the breast pocket of his shirt. Fighting a blush—feeling very proud of yourself—your face remains straight.

You tap at his chest and walk away, but not before throwing a “night, Miller” over your shoulder.

Joel looks down at the ground, presently wallowing in some sort of self-pity. But then remembers the visible effect that his words had—and the way he looked at—you, and he can’t fight the stupid fucking grin pushing its way onto his face.

He might’ve just experienced blue-balls at his big age, but to see you submit to his gaze was absolutely worth it.

He just hopes you’ll never tell a soul about his dirty-talk. He has a reputation to uphold, these days.

[ellieputellas]

healing process | alexia putellas x reader

You headed to Barcelona for a gap year, hoping to heal from a messy breakup. What you didn’t expect was to find yourself entangled in an even more complicated romance with the captivating, 30-year-old footballer who lived just down the hall. | wc: 21k+

tags: age gap, collegestudent!reader, mostly angst, some smut, next-door neighbors, fluff in the start, drama,

contains: femme!reader, unrealistic football season schedule, strap r!receiving, fingering r!receiving, dirty talk, drunk sex, cunnilingus r!receiving+a!receiving, toxic situationship, love triangle (kinda but not really), cursing, use of pet names, might have some errors and typos

masterlist ♡ please reblog this fic if you enjoyed it! please do not repost this anywhere else!

⋆˙⟡♡ After suffering a rough break-up with your high school sweetheart and ex-girlfriend of 6 years, you decided that what you needed most was a gap year in a foreign country. So, you packed your essentials and booked a one-way ticket to Barcelona.

⋆˙⟡♡ You lived with your rich aunt who worked as a doctor in Barcelona. She kindly agreed to give you lodging, three meals a day, and the occasional pocket money in exchange for helping her keep the house tidy and walking the dogs, which wasn't much work for you anyway.

⋆˙⟡♡ "Warm day out," You said to your aunt's golden retriever, Ruby. "Let's make the most of it and find me a new girlfriend." You figured that today was a good idea to get dolled up, wear a sundress, and just pass by the nearby university with the cutest dog in the world. Ruby would catch the attention of all the cute college girls and then, you'd reel them in with a few eyelash bats.

That would be the perfect way of getting a meet cute. You thought to yourself.

⋆˙⟡♡ You got dressed, putting on a teasingly short white sundress and a pair of ballet flats. You brushed your hair and applied a bit of make-up. You were determined to get that meet-cute and find someone to help you forget about your girlfriend.

The easiest way getting over an ex was getting under someone, your best friend always said. You always rolled your eyes at her but now, you couldn't help but feel that she might have been right. 

Cause here you were in one of the most beautiful cities in the world and all you could think about was your stupid ex. You needed to do something about it and quick.

⋆˙⟡♡ You put on Ruby's leash and cheerfully walked out of your aunt's apartment unit, determined to be all cutesy until a girl approaches you.

It seemed Ruby had the same idea, because as soon as you stepped into the hallway, she spotted a tiny Pomeranian across the hallway, and that was all it took. Without warning, Ruby darted toward the dog, pulling you forward as you tried to hold on to the leash. Before you could even process, you were flat on your face.

You yelped as you fell, the sound catching the attention of the tiny dog’s owner. You winced as your body slammed into the floor, feeling pained by the impact. But, nothing was more painful than the embarrassment that followed. 

“Ui, guapa, estàs bé?” The voice called out, the sound of rushing footsteps getting closer. “Aquest gos teu és fort, eh?”

You groaned as you tried to push yourself up, but both dogs had already zeroed in on you, sniffing your head as you attempted to sit up. This definitely isn't romance movie, meet-cute material.

As you finally settled on your butt, trying to regain your composure, the other girl chuckled, saying something in a language you couldn’t quite place. You looked up, and everything around you seemed to blur.

She was, without question, the most beautiful woman you’d ever seen.

Her blonde hair framed her face perfectly, and her sun-kissed skin accentuated her cheekbones. Her eyes were a warm hazel that seemed to glimmer in the soft light. You blinked, stunned by how gorgeous she looked.

“Uh, I don’t speak, um…” You stammered, struggling to find words in the face of such beauty. You could feel your face warm up.

She chuckled, her smile practically glowing. “You must’ve hit your head, yeah?”

You snapped back into reality and laughed awkwardly. “Oh, yeah, uh, I fell.” You winced internally. Why was I telling her that? She literally witnessed it all play out.

The girl laughed too, her voice light and warm. "Hmm," She bit her lip. Unbeknownst to you, she was also checking you out, glancing at your eyes and lips. And the sundress... she always loved seeing girls in short sundresses. "Why don't you come over and I'll help you ice that head, yeah?"

You just nodded stupidly cause even if you were still filled with embarrassment, there was no way you were passing up the opportunity to get to know this gorgeous Blonde.

⋆˙⟡♡ Alexia helped you up, holding your arm as she guided you towards her place. You felt intimidated by her strong presence. She just seemed like the kind of person who seemed so sure of themselves. Even the way she said her own name when she introduced herself was so sexy. It didn't take you long to be enamored by her. In fact, all it took was the walk from where you fell to her door.

⋆˙⟡♡ As soon as you stepped inside her home, you got an immediate sense of who Alexia was. She guided you to the living room, and as you sat down, you couldn’t help but notice the details of the space —the warmth of the interiors, the photos framed on the walls, the trophies displayed proudly, the personal touches in every corner. It was clear that she was someone with impeccable taste and a meticulous eye for detail.

"Trophies?" You asked as you settled down on the couch with Ruby who was too distracted sniffing the pomeranian's butt.

Alexia responded as her expression lightened up. "Ah, yes, I am a footballer."

You nodded and hummed, impressed. "Like, for fun?"

Alexia chuckled as she got behind her kitchen counter, wrapping some ice cubes in a kitchen towel. "Yes, for fun..." She answered. "And for work. I play professionally."

"Oh," You responded, mildly embarrassed that you didn't recognize her. "Sorry, I don't watch much soccer."

Alexia settled next to you on the couch, leaning in to gently place the ice against your head, on the nonexistent bump. (She had no clue you didn't actually hit your head and was just too shy and intimidated to correct her when she thought you did.)

“Here?” she asked, her voice soft as she pressed the ice towel on your forehead.

You nodded, biting your lip as she leaned closer. She was so close you could feel the warmth of her body, the gentle touch of her hand, and smell the subtle scent of her perfume. It made your pulse quicken, and you tried not to let your thoughts wander.

“Hmm,” she hummed, locking eyes with you as she tried to make conversation. “You're American, yes?"

“Yeah… is it obvious?” you blushed, feeling suddenly self-conscious by the fact that she was suddenly getting to know you.

She chuckled. “Well, first, you called it soccer and not football. And… you don’t speak Catalan or Spanish.” She responded as she brushed away the stray hairs sticking to your forehead. "The accent too, of course. It's cute."

You felt your cheeks flush even more. She was so observant, and you couldn’t help but feel a little shy under her gaze. 

She leaned back a little, giving you some space as she continued, “So, what is an American girl like you doing in Barcelona?"

You hesitated for a moment before answering. “Oh, I'm taking a gap year… from college.” You said, hesitating to mention the whole thing with your ex. "Stress from school and stuff, y'know how it is."

She raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Hmm, still in school." She mused, under her breath. "And how old are you?”

“Uh… 22,” you stammered, suddenly nervous.

Alexia hummed thoughtfully, her lips curling into a small smile. “So young,” she muttered under her breath. “Too young, actually.”

You blinked, unsure if you heard that right. You couldn't help but jump to conclusions. Pretty older women should never make statements like that, you thought to yourself as you grew even more flustered. “What do you mean?”

Alexia grinned slyly. “I just mean... I’m old enough to know better than to wear a short sundress with just a pair of lacey pink panties underneath while walking a gigantic dog.” She recounted with a chuckle.

You grew tomato red, realizing just how embarrassing her first impression of you was. You felt the warmth spread across your cheeks and then to your body. You wished the floor would have swallowed you whole.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry you had to see that." You stammered, tripping over your own words.

She chuckled. "Why sorry?" 

Your heart skipped a beat as she said it with a barely detectable mischievous glint in her eyes. You blinked in shock. "Uh, uhm, just cause... public indecency?"

Alexia laughed. "You're funny." She leaned in close again to continue icing your head. "Is the ice helping or not at all?"

You bit your lip as you gazed at her raised arms, the tattoo on the underside of it, the muscles. As she moved closer to you, the more you got a whiff of her intoxicating scent and the more you get to see the beautiful details of her face.

"Oh, it's helping a lot."

⋆˙⟡♡ Ever since you met Alexia and learned that she lived just across the hall from your aunt, you found yourself walking Ruby more often than ever. What started as a casual routine soon turned into an excuse to see her, which was successful since you always ended up running into her.

⋆˙⟡♡ “Since you’re always walking Ruby, we should go together. It would be good for Nala to have a friend.” Alexia said as you were heading back to your apartment on one of the times you coincidentally bumped into her. “I should give you my number so you can text me whenever you and Ruby are out.” “Oh, sure, sure.” You said trying to play it cool when you were really geeking out on the inside. You handed over your phone to Alexia who typed her number into your phone.

She bit her lip as she returned it. “Text me as soon as you get home so I can save your number, okay?” She smiled at you. “See you soon, guapa.”

⋆˙⟡♡ Naturally, you texted Alexia every day that you would be walking Ruby. Initially, you were afraid your crush on her would be so obvious but even if it was, Alexia didn’t seem to mind as she never missed a day with you.

⋆˙⟡♡ When you passed by cute cafés during your dog walks, she'd insist on buying you a drink while chatting you up about college life or whatever was piquing your interest that day. It was rare that she talked about herself, which you found hard to believe considering that she had so many achievements.

⋆˙⟡♡ The daily walks weren’t enough for you. You had to see her more but you were afraid that she’d view you as some kid who always begged to hang out. So, you tried to be a bit more subtle by trying to bump into her every chance you got. ⋆˙⟡♡ There wasn't a single dirty sock in your aunt's apartment since you went to the laundromat every chance you got just to bump into Alexia. And when you did, she was always courteous and proper. She never let you carry your own bag of laundry up to your floor even when you insisted you could handle it. She always paid for your laundry too. Even when you would try to tell her that your aunt left you more than enough money for errands, she’d laugh and say something along the lines of “just pocket it and let me pay” or “it’s just a few euros, no big deal.”

⋆˙⟡♡ A couple of times, you joined her for her grocery run to the supermarket when all you really needed was a singular tube of toothpaste or a small bag of tomatoes. She’d tell you all the best ingredients to buy for certain dishes, even if you’ve told her multiple times all you knew how to cook were box mix pancakes and fried rice. And without failure, she would invite you over to her house after your grocery trip to show you how to cook a certain dish but all you’d do is admire how graciously she worked in the kitchen

⋆˙⟡♡ Each and every single time you were together, Alexia was always friendly, polite — always keeping a careful distance. But somehow, in every encounter, there was that one fleeting touch, one single moment, one look that just left you completely hooked.

Some days, it would be her hand lingering a moment too long on the small of your back or the side of your waist or sometimes even on your thigh, just long enough to send a shiver down your spine. Other times, it was the microglances—the quick, almost imperceptible glances she would steal toward your lips before quickly looking away. Occasionally, there were comments about your age, your looks, how she loved being around you — innocent enough on the surface, but with an undertone that made you question her intentions in saying them. 

If you weren’t paying attention, you would have missed it entirely. But you always were. Every word she said, every glance, every touch was amplified and engraved in your mind. With Alexia, you were no longer just present—you were consumed. And you couldn’t get enough.

⋆˙⟡♡ Alexia had insisted you stay for a dinner and movie after you helped her unpack the groceries on her latest supermarket run, which you excitedly agreed to.

After dinner, you both settled onto the couch. She mentioned that a teammate had recommended the movie, but neither of you had any clue what it was about. 

Soon enough, you realized it was a horror movie—a genre you weren’t exactly thrilled about, especially with how easily you jumped at every little thing. But you two were already invested in the story to change it to something else. 

⋆˙⟡♡ Alexia quickly regretted trusting Patri's recommendation blindly. This definitely wasn’t the vibe she’d intended, but she decided to make the most of it.

Noticing your shivers, she glanced over. “Cold?”

You nodded, and she laughed softly, heading to her bedroom to grab a comforter. She set it over both of you, creating a cozy little nest on the couch.

As the suspense built, you found yourself sinking deeper into the blanket, resisting the urge to cover your eyes as things got scarier. Alexia chuckled, nudging you. “You’re such a baby,” she teased.

“This doesn’t scare you?” you asked, wide-eyed.

She shrugged. "No, not really, I get shocked sometimes but it's nothing too intense for me." She smiled at you. "And I guess, this is too scary for a little kid like you, huh?"

You pouted at her teasing. "Hey! You don't get to tease me when you made me watch a scary movie."

She chuckled, putting her hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay, no more teasing." She said. "If you're that scared, why don't you snuggle up here? I promise I don't bite."

You bit your lip and felt your heart beat faster. You nodded and scooted closer to her. Alexia put her arm around you as you rested your head on her chest.

There was a warmth to it, a sense of comfort that felt almost… domestic. Sitting there, wrapped in her arms after a casual evening of groceries and a shared meal, you felt the faint illusion of something more — something almost relationship-like.

Alexia never made any deliberate and overt actions to show you that she was interested in you in that manner but the fact that you two were hanging out basically every day, doing all these domestic errands, and now, cuddling... you couldn't help but delude yourself that maybe there could be something there. It had to mean something.

A few moments later, Alexia broke the silence. “Cariño, you still awake?” The endearment made your heart skip a beat. She's used it on you a few times before but without failure, it always made you flush.

You blinked and looked up at her, taking note of the proximity between the two of you. Her eyes were soft and warm as they looked back at you. "Yeah, I'm just comfy.” You hummed, comfortably. “Being near you helped me be less scared honestly.”

Alexia chuckled. You rested your head on her chest again and she started brushing your hair with her fingertips. It was so easy to get lost in how good it felt, but a small voice in the back of your mind warned that maybe this closeness meant nothing to her. Maybe she was like this with all her friends.

"You know you remind me of my teammate, Jana." Alexia suddenly said in the middle of the movie. "She's also around your age and whenever we watched scary movies, she'd cling on to me exactly like this."

It felt like confirmation of your own worries. You hummed in response, not sure what to say. Great, so I guess she is like this with all her friends.

"You should meet her. You'd get along. She's sweet." She continued.

You nodded. "Does she hang out here a lot?" You asked, trying to sound unaffected by the thought of someone else spending this much time with this woman you were crushing hard on.

"Yes, but more so when she was newer to the team." Alexia shared. "She's practically like my little sister so I felt like I had to take care of her. I'd always have her and my other younger teammates hang out here and watch movies during our downtimes. Sometimes, I feel like I raised them."

You just nodded again. You didn't know what was worse – your initial thought that maybe Alexia was interested in someone else or the fact that she was comparing you to someone she thought of as her little sister.

⋆˙⟡♡ “Had to take a late shift at the hospital. I’ll be home in the morning,” read the text from your aunt. You bit your lip, feeling a pang of unease at the thought of being alone in her big apartment all night after watching a scary movie.

Sure, Ruby would be there, but that dog was more of a scaredy cat than you were. If anything, she’d probably push you toward a demon just to save herself.

"You good?" Alexia asked as she noticed you still staring at your phone.

"Yeah, my aunt took another shift at the hospital so I'd be all alone at the apartment." Being home alone after watching Daniel Radcliffe get tormented by some vengeful ghost in a house all by himself was not exactly ideal.

Alexia raised an eyebrow. “Oh, you won’t be alone.” Her eyes sparkled mischievously. “You’ll be with the woman in black.”

“Alexia!” You playfully smacked her as she laughed. “Don’t joke like that—I’m actually terrified.”

“I’m just teasing,” she said with a smile, her tone softening. “But I won’t let you stay there alone, of course. Spend the night here. I’ll lend you something to wear.”

⋆˙⟡♡ You loved having Alexia's name on you. You took a glance at yourself wearing the old, red jersey you picked out from her cabinet. She told you that the jersey wasn’t exactly the most comfortable thing to sleep in but you insisted. What other chance would you get to snuggle up in a football superstar’s jersey.

"I still cannot believe you played for your country in the World Cup," You shared out loud. "When you first told me you played soccer, I genuinely thought you meant like casually or like not to that level."

Alexia chuckled, towel-drying her hair after coming out of the shower. “Didn’t want to brag, but… yes, I’ve represented the country,” she replied with a modest grin.

After finishing up, she climbed into bed and raised an eyebrow at you. “Are you planning to spend all night admiring yourself in my kit?” she teased, watching you look at yourself in the mirror.

You chuckled and made your way to her bed. You crawled under the covers and settled with a good distance between you and Alexia. She must have noticed because she commented. "Why are you so far? Are you leaving room for the woman in black?"

You grabbed a pillow and playfully smacked her. “Alexia, don’t make jokes about that! I’m still freaked out from that movie.”

“Alright, alright, no more ghost jokes,” she laughed. “But come closer; I don’t want you rolling off the bed.”

You bit your lip as you scooted toward her, feeling the warmth of her body beside you. Turning onto your side, you found yourself facing her, and she mirrored you, her eyes soft.

"Will I ever get to watch you play?" You asked in a soft voice.

Alexia nodded. "Of course, once the season starts, I'll have a ticket for you in every game." She smiled. "When are you leaving Barcelona again?"

You hummed in thought. "Well, since I plan to re-enroll in the next year, I have to be home before September next year."

Alexia nodded. "Well, that just means you get to watch me play a lot of games before you go home." She smiled warmly at you. "I would love to see you there in the crowd in a Barcelona jersey. You'd be so cute in blaugrana."

You blushed and smiled at the thought of it. "Is it okay if I don't know a thing about football?"

Alexia chuckled. “All you need to know is how to yell my name.” Her voice was laced with drowsiness. "I'd just love to have you there cheering for me. Promise that you'll cheer for me?"

You blushed, her words sending a thrill through you. "Of course, Alexia. I'll be the loudest one in the crowd." You promised.

Alexia smiled at your words as her eyes grew heavy.

You wanted so badly to tell her how much she made you feel—how the smallest gestures, the small teasing comments, and the way she looked at you left you craving more. You wanted to tell her how much you liked spending time with her and being around her. And, god, the thought of being this close to her in bed…

But you held back. Despite how sweet and attentive Alexia was, she never made her intentions clear. Was she spending time with you because she liked you, or did she just see you as a little sister figure? You couldn’t tell and you weren't willing to risk anything just yet.

Soon, Alexia's eyes began to flutter with drowsiness, and she drifted off to sleep. Your heart pounded, an ache in your chest as you resisted the urge to reach out and trace her face with your fingertips. But you stopped yourself, thinking it would be too intimate, too personal.

All you could do was watch her until sleep claimed you too.

⋆˙⟡♡ "So, tell me which girl in this damn apartment building are you playing hooky with?" Your aunt teasingly berated you over dinner. It's been a while since your aunt and you had dinner together with all the time she was spending working at the hospital and all that time you were spending with Alexia.

Your eyes widened. "Why would you think that?"

Your aunt hummed. "Well, cause just over a month ago, you spent most of the time whining to me about your fugly ex but now, you're doing the laundry every fucking day. You're walking Ruby so much that she's grown gigantic calf muscles. You’re running errands like a woman possessed, picking up random things from the supermarket.” She recounted. "Plus, the fact that you're doing all these errands in short sundresses and with blush and mascara..."

You immediately blushed, not expecting her to be so perceptive. “Why would you automatically assume I’m flirting with someone? I just… made a friend.” You said. It wasn’t exactly a lie. As much as you crush on Alexia, you never really made a move… and neither did she.

Your aunt hummed with satisfaction, clearly delighted by your reaction. “Well, tell me about your friend then! I’m not your mom—I won’t lecture you, but I am rooting for you. In fact, I’m all for hearing about your sex life!”

You threw your head back in laughter, amused by your aunt’s frankness. She joined you, but her curiosity didn’t seem to waver.

“I swear, I’m not interested in anyone like that." You tried to brush it off casually, but your aunt’s sharp eyes didn’t miss a thing. “I’m just learning a lot about the city with this lady from our building. She took me to some cafés and bakeries nearby. I can pick up some of these lovely croissants for you if you’d like.”

Your aunt hummed and raised an eyebrow, ignoring your lame attempt at deflecting the topic. "Well, I just gotta tell you that there are crazy folks living in this complex and I just want to make sure you're not falling for some rich wackjob."

You rolled your eyes in amusement. "Yeah, yeah, I'm pretty sure you're the only crazy, rich person here, Auntie.” You joked back at her.

She feigned offense, dramatically clutching her chest. “Absolutely not! These people make me look sane. Like, Alvaro down the hall? He has a creepy puppet collection worth thousands of euros! And that lady in apartment 309? Apparently, she nearly went to jail because she tried to, uh, cut off her husband’s—well, you get the picture.”

Your aunt went on and on listing down the quirks of the people who lived in your building. 

Some of them were a tad weird but not really anything of concern. ("I heard that British girl one floor down is an esthetician and she bedazzles your genitals after she waxes it.") 

Some... well, you just felt your aunt was making up to make you laugh. ("Some guy who lives here once made an offer in the elevator to sniff my feet in exchange for a thousand euros.")

You had a good laugh until a familiar name popped up. "Don't let me get started with that famous football girl on our floor, Alexia or Alexis or whatever. She and her fiancé used to fight so much. Literally, they'd even take it out on each other at the hallway — just yelling and throwing stuff. At some point, someone even called the police."

Your heart stopped. "The police?"

"Well, not the police but like... the building manager, which is basically the same thing to me." She shrugged at her own exaggeration. "I guess they made up or completely split up cause I don't hear fighting down the hall anymore. Either way, thank god."

You nodded, trying to keep your composure. You knew Alexia had past relationships but you didn't know about her being previously engaged; she never liked talking too much about herself, especially her past relationships.

But you couldn’t imagine the Alexia you spent so much time with being involved in a toxic relationship like that. She was always so calm and level-headed. Surely, it must have just been a mistake. Still, a nervous flutter settled in your stomach. 

⋆˙⟡♡ You woke up in the middle of the night to Ruby pawing at you insistently. Blinking, still groggy from sleep, you muttered, "What is it, girl?"

She let out a low whining sound, the same sound she made when she had to poo. You cursed under your breath as you realized you forgot to take her out today for her daily potty.

Your aunt previously told you that the peckish dog only peed and hated pooping in litter boxes. Even when you tried to coax her into it, she refused, so every day, you would take her outside for a poop.

You never usually missed it since she would just do it during your walks with Alexia and Nala. But since Alexia has been busy for a while and couldn't see you, you had no energy to get out of bed.

It's only been a few days since you last saw Alexia yet you were already missing her badly. It also upset you that she didn't even give a reason for her sudden absence, just a curt text telling you she'd be too busy to hang out.

But, being upset over a neighbor's unavailability was no excuse to miss taking Ruby out on her daily poo.

"I'm so sorry, Ruby." You said as you sleepily fumbled out of bed. Throwing on a hoodie, you leashed her up, grabbed the potty pick up kit and headed to the hallway. "Let's go on a quick walk."

The second you stepped out, you heard laughter echoing down the hall. You rubbed your eyes as you looked over to the source of the sound. That's when you saw Alexia stumbling to her door, wearing a fitted, backless black dress, arm-in-arm with a taller girl with dark hair whose arms were covered in tattoos. They were swaying, giggling, obviously drunk.

You couldn't recognize the girl Alexia was with but to be fair, Alexia never talked much about her friends or her dating history. But from what you could observe right now, it was obvious that there was something between the two.

You cursed under your breath as you saw them drunkenly stumble towards Alexia's door. You considered going back inside your aunt's place but just as you tried to, Ruby let out a small bark, as if to tell you to hurry up.

"Alright, alright," You whispered to the demanding dog as you made your way to the elevator —too close to Alexia’s apartment for comfort.

Despite your best attempts at stealth, Ruby was too big and enthusiastic to go unnoticed.

“Espera, espera,” Alexia’s voice rang out as she noticed you, her lips curving into a smile. “¿Ets tu, guapa?”

You could tell from the volume and slur of her voice that she had way too much to drink. You shyly waved but didn't say anything. You prayed the elevator would come faster. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw how close this tall girl was to Alexia, her arm lingering around Alexia’s waist. There was an ease between them, a familiarity that made your stomach twist.

Alexia called out to you one last time, gesturing for you to come over, but you just pointed to Ruby as an excuse and mouthed, “Can’t.” She let out an exaggerated sigh, rolling her eyes before turning back to her door.

Just as she was about the enter her apartment, you heard the tattooed girl ask Alexia who you were. “¿Y esa chica, quién es?”

"Ah, just some clingy kid who hangs around..." Her voice trailed off as the two entered the apartment but it was all you had to hear.

You really were just some kid to her. 

⋆˙⟡♡ You were upset about the whole encounter you had with drunken Alexia for about a week. You shifted your whole errand schedule to avoid her. You started walking Ruby late at night. You did your laundry very early in the morning, too early for anyone to actually get up and wash their clothes. Whenever she texted you, you'd ignore it or give her a curt response, telling her you were too busy or feeling unwell. You basically wanted to avoid Alexia at all costs.

⋆˙⟡♡   On the other hand, your best friend from back home was spam-texting you, pestering you about updating her with your "new, exciting life in Barcelona."

Sadly, you had nothing to update her on. 

What would you even say? Oh, it's great, just started yearning for some thirty-year-old who lives down the hall who might be hooking up with some hot, tall, tattooed vixen who I could never amount to... so now, I'm avoiding her cause I don't want my feelings hurt. So, yeah it's been great!

You didn't want to come back home with stories about how you flew all the way to Barcelona just to be upset over another girl. So, you decided that you've had enough of bedrotting with Ruby all day. You were going out to have fun on a Friday night.

You tried to rewind your mindset to just before you met Alexia — determined to forget a girl by finding another girl to mess around with.

You put on a black leather bralette with a very short skort that showed a sliver of your butt cheeks. You went all out with the make-up and hair. You were determined to get laid tonight... or at the very least, find someone to kiss.

⋆˙⟡♡  That night, you found yourself at a packed lesbian bar. The place was already buzzing when you walked in, but you didn’t mind—it only meant more eyes on you.

You didn’t even need to drink to feel the rush of confidence. The playful glances from the other women were enough to make you feel like the center of attention. You could tell they were eyeing you, sizing you up, and enjoying the sight of a fresh, hot girl in the crowd.

What you didn’t know was that as soon as you made your way to the counter, several girls were already trying to figure out the best way to approach you and offer to buy you a drink.

But it was one girl who beat them to it. She was a brunette with lightly tanned skin, defined eyebrows, and a smile that was radiant and inviting. As soon you approached the counter, she slid in before you, leaning in with that playful, confident grin. “¿Te puedo invitar a un trago?”

You couldn’t help but blush, a sly smile tugging at your lips as you looked her up and down. She was taller than you and wore a casual outfit—just a simple white shirt and pants, but she pulled it off effortlessly. “Did you just ask me in Catalan to buy me a drink?”

The brunette chuckled and shook her head, quickly understanding that you were a foreigner. "Spanish, actually." She extended her hand to introduce herself. "Patri."

You smiled back at the girl and shook her hand. "I'll take that drink, Patri."

⋆˙⟡♡ A few drinks later, you were laughing louder than you intended at all the jokes Patri made, and finding every excuse to touch her whenever you spoke. You were getting more and more tipsy, but you didn’t mind it—this was exactly what you wanted. Tonight was about fun, and you were determined to get what you came for.

“Why is every girl in Barcelona a soccer player?” you asked, laughing a little too loudly when she casually mentioned she played football.

Patri just chuckled, clearly amused by your question. “Football is huge here. A lot of people play it for fun, like, recreationally…” she said, playing it humble. “But I actually play professionally for a decent club."

You raised an eyebrow, your fingers lightly grazing her upper arm as you spoke. “Then I must be lucky to have such a famous football player buying me drinks.”

Tugging at Patri's ego seemed to work because she inched towards you and put a hand on your waist. "Yeah?" The footballer asked.

You batted your eyelashes and bit your lip as you nodded. "Yeah..." You intentionally averted your gaze to her lips, silently daring her to make the first move.

Patri didn’t need any more encouragement. She stepped closer, leaning in to close the gap between you, her lips almost on yours.

“Ey, Patri!”

A groan escaped Patri’s lips as she pulled back, her eyes apologizing before she turned toward the sound of the voice. You turned as well, curiosity piquing when you saw who was interrupting your moment... only to be met by the sight of Alexia.  ⋆˙⟡♡ You should have figured it out yourself that Patri and Alexia were teammates but you were too focused on the goal of flirting that it didn’t even cross your mind. If only you knew, you would have picked any other girl to flirt with.

⋆˙⟡♡ Patri introduced you to her teammates who had just arrived — Mapi, Ingrid, Kika, and of course... Alexia Putellas. They all greeted you warmly, save for Alexia who had a stoic look on her face. She didn't react, didn't make it known to her teammates that she already knew you. She just stayed silent, her jaw clenched.

You got to know all of them. They were all very welcoming and they all seemed proud of Patri for bagging you.  At one point, you caught Mapi whispering to Patri something in Spanish but all you could catch was the part when she said something about how pretty you were. Ingrid also complimented you a lot, even touching the details of your leather outfit. It was an ego boost, for sure, getting all these famous footballers to gush about you.

The entire time, Alexia stood silently, either averting your gaze or ordering more drinks. You decided that if she wasn't going to address you, you weren't going to address her. Two could play at that game.

⋆˙⟡♡ You enjoyed being with Patri — her firm body dancing against yours, the heat of her presence, the way she made you laugh and smile effortlessly. She was hot, confident, and didn't shy away from showing her attraction to you. It was easy to get lost in the moment with her, the music pulsing around you, her hands on your hips as you danced together.

But what turned you on the most was the fact that Alexia was watching you the entire time. From the corner of your eye, you could see her—standing by the bar, drink in hand, watching you with a gaze that was far too intense to be accidental. ⋆˙⟡♡ As the night wore on and the alcohol took hold, Alexia stopped pretending she wasn't watching, her eyes locked on you the entire time you danced with Patri, not caring for any more subtlety. It was intimidating but it also felt like a challenge, as if testing you as to how far you’d go while she was watching.

⋆˙⟡♡ The contrast of it all was so electrifying — Patri's impossible closeness with her body pressed against yours and her hands wandering all over your body, and Alexia standing several feet away from you with eyes that never departed you. 

You had been avoiding her gaze the entire night. It just felt too intense for you to handle but after another tequila shot that Patri so gladly poured down your mouth, you finally gained the courage to lock eyes with her as you pressed your backside against Patri's front, grinding seductively. 

Alexia's stare was firm and unmoving; it was almost unreadable. Anger? Disbelief? Annoyance? Disgust? You had no fucking clue. Her eyes narrowed at you two as Patri spun you around and held you closer to her, practically exchanging breaths. Alexia downed her whiskey as she rolled her eyes, turning around towards the counter to order another.

⋆˙⟡♡ "I just need to have you," Patri whispered drunken sweet nothings into your ears as her hands got busy, mostly gripping your waist and hips.

The two of you had made way to a more private corner where you two could be more intimate and apart from the rowdy dance floor. 

Patri pressed a kiss on the side of your jaw. It was firm enough for you to react but gentle enough to let you know she was testing out the waters. Seeing your reaction, Patri smirked and cursed under her breath as she saw your eyes fluttering under her touch.

⋆˙⟡♡ Alexia watched it all unfold. The alcohol was making her more irritable than she normally was. As soon as she saw Patri plant her lips on you, she felt the jealousy rush through her body. No fucking way, she thought. No fucking way Patri gets to kiss her before I do.

Before you two could proceed any further, Alexia put down her glass and stomped her way to you, not giving a fuck about the people she was bumping and pushing away as she did.

When she got to you, she didn't hesitate. She grabbed your arm and pulled you away from Patri without bothering to say a single word to either of you. Your drunken state couldn't process what was happening immediately. 

"What the fuck?" It was all you could say. You turned desperately to look at Patri who looked just as dumbfounded as you. You tried to halt but Alexia's grip was so strong that even when you tried to stop, she was able to drag your weight.

⋆˙⟡♡ You finally stopped where Alexia's car was parked and you frowned. "I'm not getting in with you, Alexia! You're drunk!" You said in almost a shout. "And I can't drive for shit so we're not going anywhere! I'm going back to Patr—"

Suddenly, Alexia's lips came crashing onto yours, shutting you up. She pressed your body against the cool surface of her car. Her hand made its way to your waist as she kissed you desperately, thirstily. 

It didn't take long for you to reciprocate with your hands snaking to the side of her neck, kissing her as if you wanted to completely devour her. You moaned as you felt Alexia's tongue enter your mouth and as her hand lowered from your waist to your ass. Whatever apprehension or complaint you had from being pulled away from Patri was gone. This kiss was something you've been wanting, craving, needing for weeks

Alexia ended the kiss as abruptly as she started it. She kept one hand on her vehicle and the other on your waist as she pulled away slightly — her eyes piercing yours with an intensely hungry stare. 

"Get in the car." She ordered in a deep, raspy voice and you had no choice but to say yes.

⋆˙⟡♡ You spent the first few minutes silent. You didn't know what to say. You wanted to feel frustrated about her pulling you away from Patri, who had been genuinely nice and accommodating. You wanted to shout at her and tell her off for drunk driving. You just had so much going through your mind that it was becoming static.

"You've been avoiding me," She broke the silence. "Don't try to deny it because I know you have."

You stayed quiet, trying to find a retort but all your mind could fixate on was the fact that she was driving right now. "You're drunk driving."

"Who gives a fuck? We live ten minutes away." She groaned and rolled her eyes. You could see her knuckles turn white as she gripped the wheels tighter with frustration. "See? That's our fucking building complex. You happy?"

You huffed, startled by the out-of-character outburst from the older woman. Alexia was usually so level-headed and calm. You never once saw her this frustrated. Suddenly, you remembered your aunt's short anecdote about Alexia and her fiancé fighting.

Maybe this was that version of Alexia.

⋆˙⟡♡ "Are you just going to keep ignoring me?" Alexia hissed out as you two made your way from the basement parking lot to the apartment elevator.

You stayed silent. Alexia groaned in frustration as she ran a hand through her blonde hair. You were starting to sober up now, not by much but enough to tell that Alexia was absolutely wasted. You could smell the heavy scent of smokey whiskey linger on her breath.

In frustration, once you two got in the elevator, Alexia cornered you. She looked down on you, towering over you. "Do I have to corner you every time I want to talk to you, huh?"

You rolled your eyes. "Why would you wanna talk to me? We're not friends."

Alexia's demeanor went from angry to disappointed. "Then what was all that hanging out everyday about? All that pretending you have to immediately go wash two pairs of pants just so you could be with me and do laundry? Cuddling up to me on the couch? Was that nothing?" She asked with a voice laced with frustration.

You bit your lip and looked down, feeling partly ashamed and upset she had caught up with what you were doing. You knew you were being obvious with making up excuses to see her but you thought that Alexia never seemed to mind... well, until you heard what she said about you that night.

Alexia sighed. Seeing you suddenly get upset just softened her. She put her arms down and instead, gently reached out to you to put a lock of hair behind your ear. The same hand cupped the side of your face. "Look at me."

You slowly and carefully looked up to the taller girl. In this proximity, all you could focus on were the tiny beautiful details on her face — her subtle smile lines around her eyes, the small freckles on her face, the golden specks in her eyes. You wanted to give in so bad but you just felt it was unfair of her to be demanding you explain to her why you've been avoiding her when she hasn't exactly been clear about how she felt about you.

“Please tell me, cariño.” She said in a hushed voice. “Why don’t you want to be around me anymore?”

"Why does it matter that I've been avoiding you?" You muttered in frustration. "I'm just some clingy kid to you, aren't I?"

As if on cue, the doors to the elevator opened to your floor. You gently pushed Alexia aside and walked away. You were barely a step out of the elevator when Alexia grabbed you. She spun you around and her lips were on you again.

Your fists were balled up, ready to protest and push her away. You wanted to demand she be honest with you; you wanted to know why she was being all nice and close to her when you were alone together but calling you "a clingy kid" around some other hot girl.

But your body wanted Alexia more than you wanted clarity. And so, your fists unclenched, your body fell limp in her arms, your mouth parted to allow her to deepen her kiss... and you completely gave in.

⋆˙⟡♡ It felt like Alexia and you were playing a game of who can keep their mouth on the other as you undressed.

You continued to make out as you messily and brashly entered her apartment. She basically slapped the walls blindly to turn on the light switches and just dropped her car keys on the floor. She didn't give a fuck. Alexia was selfish with your kisses and didn't want anything else to take her attention from the way you were kissing her.

But this slow stumbling to her bedroom was not her taste and it was distracting to her. So naturally, the blonde girl put her arms on the back of your legs before lifting you up to carry to her bedroom.

You didn't want to lose this game either. You continued to kiss her as you wrapped your legs around her, holding on to her tightly.

She gently laid you down on her bed before taking off her top, revealing her bare chest. She was so attractive and you wanted to feel every inch of her skin under your fingertips. You bit your lip as you desperately kicked off your shoes before pulling her again towards you, wanting more.

"Fuck, I've wanted to do this for so long." She muttered in between kisses as she pulled your leather skort off. You couldn't get a response out as you were too overstimulated by everything that was happening but the desperation behind your kisses could easily be felt by the older woman without you having to say anything.

Alexia's hands gracefully unzipped your bralette top and shrugged it off your body. She cursed under her breath as she gazed at your breasts, taking them in her hands.

"Fuck, been fantasizing about these perfect tits since I met you." She hummed before taking an erect nipple into her mouth, sucking and licking on it. You moaned out loud and bucked your hips as she continued to pleasure your chest with her mouth.

Alexia held your hips down before pressing two digits against your soaked underwear. She hummed in delight. "Since when was this?"

"Huh?"

She smirked. "I meant, who made you this wet tonight? Me or Patri?"

Apparently, you took too long to answer because she violently pressed two fingers against your soaking, clothed cunt.

"F-fuck, Alexia." You exclaimed as you felt her rub slow but firm circles around your clit. You arched your hips again, desperately wanting to be touched more by Alexia. "I want you inside, please."

Alexia hushed you, keeping a steady yet painfully slow pace. "You think I'd give it away to you so easily after you ignore me and then basically dryhump one of my closest friends in front of me, huh?"

You whimpered, feeling desperate. "Alexia, please, please."

She smirked at the sight of you squirming underneath her, begging to be filled by her. "Then answer me." She ordered.

You felt her press harder, making you moan out again. "Alexia, you did. You made me this wet. Alexia, please." You blubbered out in a pathetic string of desperation. "It was all you. Only you.”

Alexia smiled and leaned into your ear. "Good girl."

With a swift motion, Alexia pushed your panties to the side and began firmly massaging circles against your wet clit. You moaned out loud, feeling yourself warm up in pleasure.

As Alexia quickened her pace and as her mouth found its way back to your hardened nipples, you felt yourself getting close to an orgasm but it felt so unsatisfying without being filled by her. You moaned out. "Alexia, I need you inside please."

You clenched around nothing as Alexia continued to rub against you. You felt your frustration grow. "Alexia, inside please." You whimpered, writhing underneath her.

"Shh, you're so impatient." Alexia scolded. "But since you look so desperate for it..."

Alexia pulled your panties off effortlessly before she let her fingers sink deep into you. You gasped at the sudden thrust of her fingers inside you. She smirked, watching your eyes roll to the back of your head in pleasure. You shut your eyes as you gyrated your hips against her slow-thrusting fingers. You cursed out loud, feeling Alexia carefully curl her fingers to test out your sensitive spots. Her fingers were much longer than yours were and she was making you feel more pleasure than you could ever feel all alone.

Alexia started picking up the pace, thrusting her fingers in and out of you. She cursed when you started moaning out loud and felt your fingers tighten around her two digits. She started to thrust faster, then harder, and now she was curling her fingers with every inward thrust.

She loved watching you undo under her touch. She loved your moans, the feeling of you clenched around her fingers, the way your face contorted in pleasure, the way your boobs bounced with her every thrust... you were a sensory delight to her.

"Alexia, oh my fuck..." You exclaimed as you felt her pound her fingers against you. The sound of your slick and your heavy breathing filled the room as Alexia steadily fucked you to the point of not being able to think about anything else but the feeling of her fingers inside you.

Alexia leaned next to your face and planted small kisses in between catching her breath. "I've wanted to fuck this tight pussy since I saw you." She said against your ear. "You looked so cute in that sundress."

You moaned again, gripping Alexia's bare back. "Alexia, faster, please."

Alexia pressed a kiss against your jaw before opening her mouth to leave sloppy kisses on your neck that you were sure would leave marks in the morning. She picked up the pace even more, making you shout out her name as you felt the pleasure ripple throughout your body. 

"Fuck, I'm so close." You moaned out. "Oh my god."

"Scream my name, cariño." She whispered with heavy pants. 

Then, you felt your orgasm rip through you, leaving you shaking under her. "Alexia!" You shouted out as you let yourself arch your back in the intense pleasure.

Alexia let you ride out your orgasm before slowly pulling out her fingers. She smiled at you warmly before using her thumb to part your lips open. As you did, she stuck her two wet fingers down your mouth. "Suck me dry, cariño."

You enthusiastically sucked on her fingers, making sure to lick and suck all of your cum off of it. The entire time, you made eye contact with Alexia who was biting her lip and cursing under her breath. 

The sight of you taking her long fingers in your warm mouth was making her wet. And, god, the wet sloppy sounds paired with the sensation of your mouth wrapped around them… She cursed under her breath before she pulled her fingers out. You looked at her confused as she made her way to her cabinet, rummaging for something in one of the drawers.

That's when she pulled out a large, transparent dildo attached to a harness. You bit your lip as you watched Alexia put it on her bare body.

Your eyes finally got the chance to admire her more this time. You looked at her muscular figure, her long legs, her firm ass, and of course, her abs. You've never seen someone with abs as glorious as hers before. You wanted to moan out loud at just the sight of her. She was hotter naked than you ever imagined. 

"Checking me out, cariño?" She teased as she adjusted the harness. 

You bit your lip and nodded. She chuckled, feeling elated by the fact that she could see you get wet again just with the sight of her naked body. 

"Well, you can do that on your knees, no?" She asked.

⋆˙⟡♡ Watching you suck her fingers wasn't enough for Alexia, she wanted to watch you take her entire strap in your mouth. She wanted to see you struggle to take its entire length.

"Open wide, pretty." She said in a low voice as she took her thumb again to part your mouth. The sight of you kneeling in front of her with wide, pleading eyes paired with an angle where she could perfectly see your tits... it just made her want to fuck it with being gentle and take your head and use your mouth to fuck her strap with.

But she still tried to be gentle with you. Letting you take in the tip between your lips before gently pushing your head towards her to take in the entire length. You almost gagged at one point but you quickly adjusted to having her length in your mouth. 

When you took in the entire length, Alexia moaned out loud at the sight. "Fuck, suck me off, cariño."

You obeyed and started slowly moving your head as you sucked. You looked up at the older woman who had her bottom lip tucked between her teeth as she held your head steady. “Yeah, just like that.” She grunted out. “You look so pretty taking me in like that.” The silicone stifled your moan when you finally got a whiff of her alluring musk. You couldn't see under the harness but you were sure Alexia was dripping wet herself.

Alexia grew impatient. “Cariño, tap my leg if it hurts, yeah?" She warned you and you just nodded.

She smirked before firmly grabbing onto your head as she began slowly thrusting into your mouth. When you felt the strap hit the back of your throat, you gagged and felt tears form in your eyes, making Alexia even wetter at the sight of it. "You look so cute, cariño." She grunted out breathlessly.

The base of the dildo was hitting Alexia's clit every time she thrust into your mouth, driving her close to an orgasm. It felt so good watching you suck her strap off while feeling it all on her clit. She moaned as she kept thrusting your head against the entire length, wanting to feel more of the sensation.

She moaned out in a low voice and threw her head back. The sight of her — with her eyes shut and her muscles clenched — as she used your mouth to fuck herself left you dripping on to Alexia's bedroom floor. Finally, you felt Alexia tense up before finally cumming. 

"Good job, baby." She said before guiding your mouth open to take the dildo out, a string of saliva forming from your mouth to the silicone member. She bent down to your height and captured your lips in a kiss. "You did so well. You took me in your mouth so well."

Her compliments filled you with so much warmth. You continued to kiss her, wrapping your arm around her neck. Effortlessly, Alexia lifted you up again and laid you down on the bed. 

She planted a gentle kiss on the side of your head before whispering. "Think you can handle my strap inside of you?"

You didn't even have to think twice about it.

⋆˙⟡♡ Alexia never was an impatient lover in bed but everything about you made her feral, wanting to fuck you fast and hard just so she can watch you unravel before her over and over again.

Something about the way you orgasmed was addicting for her to watch. She loved watching your body clench, your mouth open wide in pleasure as you moan and whimper and scream her name. It was addicting for her.

Despite that, she still wanted to focus on your pleasure instead of fulfilling her own desires of seeing you cum several times — one after the other — under her.

She watched your pussy slowly take in her entire length as she slowly pushed it inside. It didn't take long until she thrust the entire length inside you, the strap disappearing from her sight. She cursed under her breath as you wriggled and whimpered underneath her as you felt her huge strap completely split you open. She bit her lip as she slowly began to thrust in and out of you.

You were exactly as she fantasized in bed — obedient, submissive, and loud. And god, you were so gorgeous when you were being fucked. She leaned in again to capture your swollen lips into a short kiss before she focused again on fucking you with her strap.

Your moans and whimpers were a symphony to her ears. She felt like she could cum just hearing you absolutely get wrecked by her.

You couldn't control the volume of your voice. Alexia was extremely skilled in bed. Her thrusts were fast and hard but incredibly precise, pressing against your sensitive spot with every push she did inside you. There was too much pleasure rippling through your body to give a fuck about the neighbor's hearing.

And you just couldn't stop moaning out her name. It felt so good in your mouth to say it over and over again. 

"Yeah, keep moaning out for me, cariño," Alexia said as she picked up the pace of her thrusts. 

You felt a tad of pain as she became rougher with her thrusts but it was a good kind of pain. Alexia grunted as she held on to your waist with her hands. 

It didn't take long until your pussy was clenching around her strap and you were practically shaking as your orgasm built up for the second time that night.

"You're all mine," Alexia slurred out in between heavy breathing. "This pussy is only mine."

You moaned out in agreement. "Yes, Alexia, yours. I'm yours."

With one strong thrust, you came undone. You screamed out her name again for the nth time before falling limp underneath her. Alexia pulled out and gave you a kiss. 

You couldn't find the energy or brain power to speak. So, you just held Alexia close, your heavy breathing synchronizing with each other. You sighed.

You just knew then and there that you've fallen hard for Alexia Putellas.

⋆˙⟡♡ You woke up to an empty bed, blinking a few times as the soreness in your body set in. You groaned, stretching, and only then did you realize you were still naked. Flushing, you glanced around, noticing Alexia must be in the kitchen from the faint sounds of cooking.

Quickly, you found your underwear on the floor and pulled it on, then grabbed one of Alexia’s football shirts from her closet to slip into.

With a soft smile, you tiptoed over to her and wrapped your arms around her waist from behind. “Good morning,” you murmured.

She chuckled, “Careful, cariño. Sneak up on me like that, and I’ll cut my finger instead of this tomato.”

You hummed, ignoring her and just hugging her tighter. "Breakfast?" 

She laughed. "I think someone enjoyed last night way too much to realize it's already noon." She smiled. "This is already lunch."

You blushed and let go of Alexia, getting out of the way of her cooking. You sat down on the counter and watched her do her thing in the kitchen. She looked like she already got up and took a bath as she was wearing new clothes.

"You took a bath without me?" You jokingly asked with feigned disappointment and a pout.

Alexia smirked. "Sorry, I couldn't stand the thought of waking you up when you looked so pretty sleeping naked in my bed. I'll be sure to invite you to join me next time." She glanced at you again, realizing you were wearing another one of her older Barça shirts. "Hmm, you seem to like wearing my kits, huh?"

You smiled. "Love your name on me."

Alexia's lips curled into a smile before giving you a peck on the lips. "You can have it. I just love seeing it on you," She set down the cooking supplies and leaned in to give you a deeper kiss. "But I love seeing me inside you more."

You playfully smacked her arm. She continued to cook as you picked on the leftover tomatoes on the cutting board to snack on them. 

You hummed playfully. "So, Ale..." You started.

"Hmm?" She replied, focusing on cooking.

"So... last night you said you thought about fucking me when you first saw me..." You brought up with a playful smirk.

Alexia chuckled. "Your turn to tease me, huh?"

"I'm just asking." 

"Well, of course, I did..." She responded. "Couldn't stop thinking of your little lace undies."

You blushed, recalling how you fell on your face and exposed yourself to her. "Hey, you're teasing me now again."

She laughed, stirring the sauce. “You’re just easy and fun to tease.” As she finished, she dished up two plates of pasta, setting them on the table.

"Hmm, then what was all that 'you're so young' and 'you remind me of my little sister figure' talk about." You brought it up, casually.

Alexia hummed as she placed a healthy portion of food on two plates. She placed it on the dining table, contemplating your question. She finally headed up to you, taking your hand and leading you to the dining table.

As she sat, she took a deep breath. "Well... I didn't want to scare you off just in case you weren't into me." She said. "And... I guess I was trying to remind myself that you were — I mean, you are — too young for me."

You hummed, giving her a reassuring smile. “Our age gap isn’t that big, you know. I’m an adult.” You reassured her and partly, yourself. 

She smiled gently but shrugged. “I know, but we’re in different stages of our lives, you know? It made me hesitate.” She explained. 

You nodded, feeling her words sink in. After a pause, you asked. “And with that tattooed girl… why’d you call me a ‘clingy little kid’ that night?”

Alexia’s face grew serious. “That was just a dumb mistake." She said, pausing to use a paper towel to wipe her mouth. "I was drunk, and I was with my ex—I hadn’t seen her in a long time. I didn’t think about how it would make you feel if you heard it."

“Oh… was that your ex-fiancée?” You asked cautiously.

Alexia shook her head. “No, no, my ex-fiancée and I would never hang out." She chuckled. "That was Jenni. We’re good friends and we were just catching up after not seeing each other for long... but yeah… I was stupid. I shouldn’t have said that.”

You nodded slowly, a lot of questions swirling in your mind—questions about her past, what last night meant, if your age still bothered her. But you decided to let it go, not wanting to ruin the moment. 

⋆˙⟡♡ "You ghosted me for a month and now, you're telling me that you're dating a pro soccer player?" Your best friend Ashley shouted over FaceTime. "Are you nuts?!" 

You hushed her as you stood from your bed to shut the door. "My aunt is right outside my room."

"Who cares? She's cool and probably would be gushing with me right now if she knew!" Ashley exclaimed. 

You chuckled. "Just shhh. I haven't told anyone about Alexia cause we aren't really dating."

Ash's face fell in shock. "Huh? Then what are you doing?"

You sighed before going on to tell her the whole story — the day you fell in front of her, the grocery runs, the night you saw her with Jenni, the night at the club, and of course, last night when you slept together. Ash was practically exclaiming and shouting every other minute in shock and excitement.

"Okay, okay, girl, I just looked her up and hot damn, you're telling me you slept with THAT?" Ash pointed her phone camera to her MacBook screen which displayed a photo of Alexia celebrating in her sports bra during a football match. 

You chuckled. "Oh... Ash, her abs... they were so firm and hot up close. I felt like I was going crazy."

The two of you geeked over how hot Alexia was for a few minutes before calming down. Ashley sighed. "But babe, like, I want you to be careful still cause like... she hasn't really said that she likes you yet, right?"

You blinked and thought about it and realized Ashley seemed to be right. She did say she wanted you and she did say you were "all hers" in bed and that she thought about you sexually from the moment you met... but there were no explicit mentions of her feelings.

"Hmm, yeah, I could read from your expression that she hasn't..." Ash commented. "I know she's sweet and fun but just be cautious, okay? I can't afford to lose my best friend to another gap year cause of another heartbreak." She joked.

You chuckled weakly. "No, no, I mean, I'm taking it slow. I'm not that invested yet." You lied. You were pretty much all in with Alexia at this point.

Ashley nodded. "Okay, that's good. Just enjoy having fun with your older woman but just be careful. Okay, babes?"

You sighed and nodded. "Yeah, of course."

Ash hummed and stayed silent for a beat before asking, "So... about this Patri girl, I just googled her too, and wow..." 

You chuckled and continued bantering with Ashley, trying to push your insecurities to the back of your head. 

⋆˙⟡♡ You woke up to your phone ringing. You blinked your eyes open and took a glance at the phone. "Hmmm," You groaned out before answering. "Yeah?"

It was Alexia.

"Cariño, come over, please." Her voice was low and sultry. You hummed into the phone mic, sleepily. Alexia chuckled at the sound of it. "Aw, did I wake you up, my love? I'm so sorry."

"Hmm, yeah. Is everything okay?" You mumbled out.

She had a short chuckle. "I just need to taste you, cariño. I need you so bad." Her voice came out in a needy, low tone that made your insides churn.

You took a deep breath and blinked the remaining sleepiness away. "Okay, I'll just get dressed up." You said with a yawn. "I'm still in my pajamas."

"No, baby, I'm undressing you anyway. Just come over, cariño." She begged. You smiled at the sound of her voice; she sounded so desperate and needy.

"Okay, got it." You chuckled.

⋆˙⟡♡ Alexia wasn't lying because as soon as you entered her apartment, your clothes were practically off your body and on the floor.

Alexia had pinned you against the front door, too impatient to even take you to her bedroom. You watched the blonde woman kneel in front of you as she pressed her mouth on your core, licking and flicking her tongue against the most sensitive part of your clit.

You grabbed her head and rocked your hips against her mouth, making Alexia hum in pleasure. She spread her tongue flat against your wetness, taking it all in before focusing again on your clit.

"Fuck, I could do this everyday." You muttered out.

⋆˙⟡♡ And you did do it... almost every day.

It could be early in the morning, in the middle of the day, or even late at night. Alexia would text you and you always found your way to her bed... or her couch, or her floor, her shower, her kitchen counter, her table. You two fucked so much that you felt like you were losing brain cells with how she left you so mind-fucked every time.

⋆˙⟡♡ On more than one occasion, you wanted to bring up your feelings for Alexia and how you wanted more than just sex out of your relationship but you always chickened out.

You figured you could talk about it some other time.

⋆˙⟡♡ Yet, the opportunity never really arose. Whenever you two were together, nothing seemed to leave your lips except her name and a string of incoherent moans. It was fun and exciting but sometimes, it also left you feeling insecure about your place in her life.

⋆˙⟡♡ "Look who's back home at 5 in the morning," Your aunt jokingly tutted her tongue as she watched you enter the apartment in clothes you borrowed from Alexia. You thanked heavens you didn't wear one of her kits with her name on it or else, you would have been figured out. "And is it safe to assume you didn't come from the grocery with that heavy cream I asked to buy you two days ago?"

You blushed as you saw your aunt judging you as she sipped her morning coffee. "Hi, Aunty..." You said softly. "I can go get that later once the supermarket opens. I'm sorry I totally forgot about it."

She shook her head. "How did you go from doing all the errands like a maniac to doing none of it?" She joked. "See, I don't mind that you're running around with some girl... clearly, it's making you happy."

You bit your lip and tucked a hair behind your ear. She continued, "Just make sure you're doing errands like you agreed to, or else I'm shipping you back to your momma."

You nodded. "Sorry, auntie."

⋆˙⟡♡ "Come over, cariño 😚" The message notification popped up on the top of your screen as you were reading the list of things your aunt wanted you to pick up from the grocery.

You sighed and texted Alexia, telling her you had to do some errands. You smirked as you read her reply. "Okay, I'll drive you there only if you agree to ride my face later."

You rolled your eyes and chuckled.

⋆˙⟡♡ Alexia had her hand on your thigh as she drove to the nearby supermarket, gently feeling your skin as she moved it up and down your thigh.

"Alexia, if you keep doing that, we won't end up getting the groceries." You said as you held her hand steady on your thigh. She smirked at you and said, "I'm fine with that."

You chuckled and ignored her.

⋆˙⟡♡ Alexia couldn't get her hands off of you. She'd have her hands on your waist as you tried to get stuff from the shelves. She would kiss you on the cheek randomly. Even as you were pushing the cart, she would have her body pressed behind you, resting her head on your shoulder as you pushed the cart together.

Thankfully, there weren't many people but the people who were there were taking notice of how clingy and affectionate Alexia was being.

"Cariño, you smell so good. I wanna smell you all over and put my face against your..." Alexia whispered in your ear as she rested her head on your shoulder. You playfully elbowed her and swatted her away.

"Ale, people can hear you." You said with an eye roll.

She hummed as she pressed her lips against your ear. "Baby, I just want you so bad. I don't care if anyone hears about how much I want to..."

"Alexia?" A voice from the far end of the aisle called. Alexia practically jumped away from you as soon as you two heard the voice. You turned your attention to the tall, blonde girl at the end of the aisle.

Alexia cursed under her breath but raised her hand to greet the girl who came walking towards you. "Frido, hey." Alexia greeted, straightening herself up. "What's up?"

The tall girl hugged Alexia and then turned her attention to you. "And who is this pretty girl you're with, Alexia?" She smiled at you before turning to Alexia with raised eyebrows.

Alexia looked at you with a panicked expression before turning back to Frido. "Oh, she's my neighbor. I gave her a ride to the grocery." She explained before changing the topic. "And who are you here with?"

Alexia and the taller girl, who you inferred was a teammate, started chatting a bit more but all you could think about was how Alexia introduced you

⋆˙⟡♡ After you loaded her car with groceries, you immediately headed to the passenger seat and slammed the door behind you.

Alexia had taken notice of your change in demeanor. She entered the car and looked at you with a confused look. "Why are you mad?"

You hummed and ignored her. She sighed and began driving. She tried to put a hand on your thigh but you swatted her away, which seemed to piss her off.

"What's your problem?" She snapped.

"I don't know, maybe neighbors just don't touch each other's thighs like that." You retorted, annoyed.

Alexia groaned. "Don't tell me you're mad at me because of that."

"Why wouldn't I be mad, Alexia?" You responded with a raised voice. "You and I have been fucking for weeks. We cuddle. We have dinner. We kiss and fuck and spend so much time together. Not to mention that before all that, we were already practically together all the time... and I'm just your neighbor?"

Alexia's eyebrows furrowed together. "I don't see the big deal. Frido's my co-worker and I just don't feel like airing out my sex life randomly to people I work with."

You groaned. "Don't you get it? You don't need to tell people we're fucking. You can just say we're dating, seeing each other... I don't know. Even just calling me your friend is better than being called your neighbor."

Alexia clenched her jaw and shook her head in disbelief. "This is the problem with dating younger girls..." She muttered under her breath.

This just drove you over the edge. "What does my age have to do with this?" You shouted as you glared at her. "Last time I checked, you were the one who said our age difference didn't matter to you."

Alexia groaned. "You're just being so immature. Why does it matter so much what I said to Frido? She's just my co-worker. Of course, if some other girl came over to flirt with me, I'd say I'm seeing someone already. That's when the distinction matters."

"How would you react if someone I knew from school came over and I just called you my neighbor?" You retorted.

"I wouldn't give a fuck," She responded. "Cause I'm mature enough to know it doesn't matter."

You snapped. "Well, maybe that's cause you don't actually care about me." You could feel your voice crack as you said it but you stopped yourself from getting emotional.

Alexia groaned and grew more exasperated. "See? This is your problem. I don't air out my personal business and suddenly you think I don't care about you..."

"Well, do you, Alexia?" You stared at her, with tears threatening to fall from your eyes. "All you ever want to do now is fuck. You don't ever tell me how you feel about me. You never even mentioned once that you liked me... and I can't recall the last time you complimented me in a way that wasn't about my body or looks. You might care but not enough."

Alexia groaned but tried to compose her thoughts before responding to you, not wanting to frustrate you even more. "Obviously, I like you but I just..." She trailed off. "I don't know if I'm ready for what you want."

You looked at the older woman with an incredulous look. You were at a loss for words. You felt a tear fall but you just wiped it off and shook your head, dryly chuckling.

She parked the car and took a deep breath. "Cariño, just because I'm not ready to commit yet... doesn't mean I don't care or like you." She explained patiently as she turned to look at you. "I just... think what we have now is good. Please, can we just calm down?"

You stayed silent, waiting for her to tell you she liked you more than just physically or to tell her you mattered to her. You didn't know exactly what you wanted to hear but you just wanted reassurance that you weren't just some secret fuck buddy to her.

Alexia groaned exasperatedly at your silence before unbuckling her seatbelt and leaning towards you, grabbing your face to kiss you. But instead of kissing her, you put a hand on her shoulder to stop her.

"Goodbye, Alexia." And with that, you left.

⋆˙⟡♡ After your frustrating exchange with Alexia, you demanded your groceries and insisted on carrying them up yourself, not wanting to talk to her for a while. 

So, with two arms loaded with grocery bags, you clumsily stormed into the apartment, causing a couple of things to fall out of the bag. You groaned exasperatedly. "Fuck this shit."

"Guess the coupon didn't work out at the supermarket, huh?" You nearly jumped at the voice. You turned to see your aunt sitting on the couch, sipping coffee. 

You sighed deeply, not answering as you were still distraught over the realization that after all this time, Alexia never returned your feelings. You doubted yourself, thinking maybe you were immature and childish for reacting like that but you couldn't help but be overwhelmed with insecurities. 

Your aunt took note of your gloomy demeanor as she stood up from the couch to help you out with the groceries. "Darling, are you alright?" She said as she took the bags from you.

You looked up at your aunt and just shook your head. She immediately put the bags down on the nearby counter and took you in for a hug.

⋆˙⟡♡ As you unloaded your groceries with your aunt, you also decided it was time to let her know about what was going on. She was always the cool aunt, growing up. She was never judgmental or preachy; she often said something like "How could I be judgemental when I was way worse than you when I was a kid?" So, you figured that if there was anyone you could go to for advice, it would be her.

You kept the details vague though, not totally willing to disclose the fact that the girl you were seeing was Alexia. You just said you met an older woman while walking Ruby and you two hit it off. You recounted all the memories of you two hanging out, doing groceries, walking, or even just doing laundry.

"It felt domestic, at some point." You told your aunt. "It felt like we were dating even if we hadn't hinted that we liked each other. It felt even more intimate than when I was with my ex, y'know. It really felt... I don't know, close to her."

Your aunt nodded, understandingly. She continued to listen as you told her about running into Jenni and what Alexia said. Then, you told her about the nightclub incident, keeping details and identities vague. "And while I was dancing with the girl I met at the counter, she suddenly grabbed me and pulled me away and dragged me out of the club."

Your aunt's eyes widened. "She did what?!" She exclaimed, almost comically loud. You chuckled and continued, "Yeah, and I got really mad at her for it but then she suddenly kissed me."

You continued telling your aunt about the kiss and how you finally got to admit your attraction for each other. Then, you told her how started spending your time together in a more intimate manner, completely leaving behind the cutesy domestic aspect you've grown accustomed to.

You cringed a bit, talking to your aunt about your sex life but she didn't seem that bothered. "So, you went from playing house together to just fucking each other's brains out, got it." Your aunt said, making you chuckle.

You then tell her the reason as to why you were alone and angrily hauling paper bags full of grocery. She nodded along, seeming to be in deep thought. When you finished telling her your story, you sighed. 

"So, yeah... I just got so annoyed by the whole 'neighbor' comment, the fact that she said I was immature because of my age, and how she didn't even bother to clarify that she liked me beyond the physical aspect. There was no reassurance that I could mean more to her than just someone to have fun with." You explained. "And when we argued, it felt like she knew exactly what my insecurities were with our relationship — well, situationship — and just had to pick at those."

Your aunt nodded, understandingly. "If it was just the grocery thing with her co-worker, I would have said you were acting immature too but I get that it was all the other factors together that just made you snap." She sympathized. 

You nodded. "Yeah, I think I would have calmed down if she didn't make the comment about my age. It just felt like a pick at my deepest insecurity with our relationship, that I'm too young and immature for her... and the fact that she didn't want to commit or even just reassure me about us."

You sighed deeply. "It just made me feel so unsure of myself, which I was already feeling ever since we made our relationship mostly physical."

Your aunt sighed. "Well, if you ask me, I think it's better she showed you her intentions now than later, right?" You nodded in response.

"So, just rest a few days, and assess your feelings. Don't shut her out completely," Your aunt said. "I think you should give her a chance without her knowing that you're giving her a chance, if that makes sense. Just wait a couple days and if she reaches out to you and apologizes and tells you that she values you as a person, and possibly, a future partner, then go for it."

You sighed, thankful for your aunt's advice. You took her in for a hug, feeling comfort with the fact that you could really run to her with your problems. 

Your aunt patted your back. "I'm sure you'd figure it out. Besides, I feel like she'd cool off in just a few days and apologize. Athletes just tend to have a reactive temper, I guess."

You froze at her comment. "But I never told you..."

She chuckled. "Well, your reaction just told me now."

⋆˙⟡♡ That very night, Alexia texted you just as you were about to get in bed. 

"Cariño, come over." You rolled your eyes, knowing exactly what this text meant and you weren't exactly in the mood to fuck and forget about it.

Another text. "Let's make up, please. I miss you." 

"Cariño, are you still mad?" 

"I'll make it up to you pls."

You sighed, not a single text about talking it out or apologizing for how she acted. You put your phone on silent and just decided you'd reply once she texts you for more than a booty call.

⋆˙⟡♡ You were on your early morning run with Ruby when your phone started ringing. You rolled your eyes at the caller ID. It was Alexia.

As soon as the rings stopped, you got a text. "Come over, Cariño." 

You rolled your eyes again. Is this the only phrase she's capable of? What happened to "hey" or "i'm sorry"? 

As if reading your mind, you get another text. "I'm sorry."

You hummed in satisfaction but figured that you still needed a bit more time to think it out and consider your emotions. You didn't want to talk it out while you weren't ready.

⋆˙⟡♡ Late at night, you considered messaging Alexia that you two should talk but you still felt a bit of uneasiness and uncertainty with it. Plus, you felt that if you went to Alexia at this time of night, she'd get the wrong message. 

⋆˙⟡♡ But apparently, even if you headed to Alexia's apartment now, you wouldn't find her there anyway.

You squinted at the Instagram story that the nearby lesbian club posted and saw a familiar figure in the background of one of the videos. You swore it was Alexia.

So, you did some digital investigating. Since Alexia was never the type to post on social media. You looked through Patri's Instagram story. Nothing. You went to Mapi's Instagram. Nothing. It was only on Ingrid's account that you found something of interest.

It was just a video of Ingrid with her arm around Mapi as they sang along to a song you weren't familiar with but in the background, you could see Alexia chatting up a shorter brunette girl.

You figured you might be overreacting but you couldn't help but feel jealous and annoyed. You were here, mulling over your relationship while she was out partying and maybe flirting with other girls.

The rational thing was to consider maybe it was just another night out with teammates, enjoying the break from football. But a part of you just felt annoyed and jealous. 

I'll sleep it off, you thought. If she messages tomorrow, whatever it is, I'll reply that we should talk then. No use in delaying it anymore.

⋆˙⟡♡ Tomorrow came and there was no message. You pouted and went about your errands. 

Afternoon, nothing. Dinner time, nothing.

You practically stalked the entire Barça team but most of them didn't post anything aside from Ingrid who just posted a couple more photos with Mapi and another with Alexia. Nothing too incriminating.

Still, you couldn't help but get annoyed that she gave up trying to reach out to you.

⋆˙⟡♡ The next day came, and then the next, and the next, and no message from the blonde Catalan.

You felt like you were reverting to your "bed rotting and mopping around with Ruby" routine as the days passed. You wanted to talk to Alexia so bad and you wanted to kiss her and hold her but you just knew deep inside, that it would be better if she made the first move in having a conversation about your relationship.

You sighed as you tapped through Instagram stories again, having nothing better to do. You paused when you reached Patri's Instagram story. 

After that night at the club, you haven't exactly reached out to her considering your situation with Alexia but... Patri was always at the back of your mind.

You hesitated, pausing to consider. Would it be messy to hit up Alexia's teammate after everything we've done?

You bit your lip. Well, Alexia and I never dated and as far as anyone is concerned, there's nothing between us. No one, except maybe Frido, has a clue that we're romantic. 

You corrected yourself. Romantic? Am I insane? There was nothing actually romantic about it. It was purely physical, especially towards the end. 

You sighed. I just want someone who wants to date me and invest in me romantically. Is that too much to ask?

Your night flashed back to the club with Patri. While you didn't get the chance to talk much, she seemed attentive and interested in everything you were saying. Plus, she was also incredibly attractive. It wouldn't hurt to give it a shot.

But the thought of Alexia lingered. You knew that it might be unfair to her — how you never talked it out with her while sliding into her teammate's DMs. It could really hurt her.

...But then again, she never really made the effort to talk it out anyway. And, if you were keeping count, she hurt you first. You take a deep breath. 

Fuck it. Alexia's not my girlfriend. I can do whatever the fuck I want.

⋆˙⟡♡ You didn't expect Patri to respond until the next day since you were certain she had a bunch of other DMs from fans.

But it didn't even take half an hour for her to reply, already talking about where she'd take you out on a date. You smiled, grateful that she was willing to still date you even after what happened.

⋆˙⟡♡ Patri took you to a tapas place. Even if you were the one who asked her out, she insisted that she pick you up; she even brought you a delicate bouquet of pink and white flowers. 

She was basically everything a girl could ask for, opening doors for you and letting you sit first, being polite and attentive to you

It didn't hurt that her playful flirtatiousness from the club was still intact. When she met you at the lobby, she gave you a whistle, reacting favorably to the tight dress you were wearing. She also seemed to love guiding you by putting a hand behind your back or your waist. You felt it was a good balance of being polite and being subtly flirty and sensual. 

⋆˙⟡♡ As you were eating and drinking, Patri finally brought up the single thing you didn't want to talk about at all.

"Okay, so I've got to ask." She furrowed her eyebrows. "Why did Alexia drag you out of the club that night? I was confused cause I didn't even see you two talk before that and she was suddenly dragging you away from me. I asked Mapi about it but she said she was too busy cuddling up with Ingrid to pay attention to anything else."

You sighed. You knew this question was inevitable but you still hated having to talk about it. "Alexia is actually my neighbor." You responded.

Patri nodded and chuckled, still visibly confused. "Okay? And?"

You chuckled back. "Well, we hung out sometimes and she told me that I reminded her of your younger teammate, Jana..." You continued. You weren't exactly lying but you did feel like you were circumventing the truth. "So, I guess she was protective of me somehow? I don't know..."

Patri nodded. "Hmm, did she tell you anything about me?"

You shook your head. "Uh, no... she was pretty drunk so I don't think she was thinking straight that night."

Patri paused and took a swig of her sangria. For a moment, you thought she'd seen through your lie version of the story. 

Patri sighed. "I still think what she did was so random but... I guess, it might be because she doesn't trust me enough in the relationship department." She chuckled.

Patri briefly explained that she once dated another younger teammate and it ultimately ended up sour when Patri grew bored of the relationship and broke up with the girl, leaving the younger player distraught. It affected the team dynamic for a while but she said it didn't take them long to recover from it. 

"I figured that maybe that could be the reason." Patri nodded, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "She didn't reply to me when I asked but I mean, Alexia barely checks her phone so..." She laughed.

You took a deep sigh of relief. She didn't figure you out; she seemed more concerned about the fact that Alexia might have warned you that she wasn't ideal dating material. "Yeah, I guess that's it... she was drunk and we didn't exactly talk about it after." Again, you weren't exactly lying when you said that.

Patri nodded. "But I hope you don't let that change the way you see me. I swear, that whole thing was just blown out of proportion. I wasn't being mean to her; I just try to be honest with the people I date." She explained with a shrug. "I mean, what's the point of lying?"

You felt a lump form in your throat but just forced a smile, nodding.

⋆˙⟡♡ In the next week, you spent more time with Patri, having lunches or going for random café runs. When you were apart, you were still texting each other stupid memes and TikToks or just chatting about everything under the sun.

It was fun being around her. She was so funny and easy-going. It felt like dating a friend. But the best part of it was that, even if you just started dating, she was very forward about how she felt about you.

⋆˙⟡♡   You went on a random afternoon date to a cute gelato place you passed by once on one of your walks with Ruby. You briefly mentioned it to Patri in a passing conversation but she remembered and took you there the next day. 

You hummed in delight when you tasted the pistachio ice cream. "Oh, this is so good." You exclaimed. She smiled at you and looked at you with soft, admiring eyes.

You blinked. "What?"

"Nothing," She chuckled. "I just... like spending my time with you. I think I really like you..."

You smiled back. "I like spending time with you too."

She paused to eat a spoonful of ice cream. "Who knew that the hot girl I was grinding on from the bar would have me acting all nervous to tell her that I like her?" She joked. 

You laughed and shook your head at her silly statement. With Patri, everything seemed easy. No doubts or second thoughts. She was always quick to remind you she liked you, not leaving any room for questioning.

Yet, deep inside, you could still feel yourself yearning for Alexia. Your relationship might have been tumultuous and uncertain but she made you feel things. Everything felt fiery and passionate and overwhelming... and you just craved for that intensity again.

⋆˙⟡♡ "Okay, do you want pizza or something else?" You asked Patri as you lay on her couch, scrolling through food options on the Deliveroo app. 

Patri lifted your feet up and sat down, placing them on her lap. She rubbed your feet as she contemplated her options. "Hmm, are you on the menu?" 

You chuckled and playfully pushed her with your foot. "You're so gross, Patri." 

She continued rubbing your feet. You realized that you have been seeing Patri for almost two weeks already and you still haven't done anything beyond kissing. You reasoned out to yourself that it may be because you two usually spent your time outside her place but you knew deep inside, something else was holding you back.

"Hmm," Patri hummed loudly. 

"Yes, Miss Guijarro? Is there a problem?" You asked, looking away from your phone to give her an eyebrow raise.  

She shook her head. "Nothing... you just didn't answer the question..."

You smiled in amusement. "I did... I said you were gross." You retorted. Patri pouted and gave you a disappointed face which you just laughed at. You rolled your eyes. "Hmm... ask me again after dinner."

Patri practically beamed. "Okay, just order whatever pizza then. I don't want to delay dinner any further." She joked.

You chuckled at her silliness. "So, what movie did you say we should watch again?"

"I was going to recommend that we watch this horror movie, The Woman in Black, but I don't think that will set the mood I want to set." Patri chuckled. You nodded, recalling the movie and how Alexia mentioned that it was recommended by a teammate. 

Of course, it was Patri. She did say she loved horror movies.

You nodded. "Let's just watch something else. I hate horror movies." And being reminded of Alexia.

She chuckled. "Yeah, okay, my teammates didn't like it too. Pina and Jana practically hated me when I made them watch it when they came over." She recalled before turning to you to smile. "You really should meet them. They're fun. You'd love them."

You just nodded along, feeling hesitant. You didn't know if it was a good idea meeting any more of their teammates, scared that maybe Alexia had mentioned something to someone and word would get out about this whole complex situation.

So, you changed the topic. "Okay, got us a large pizza with some soda. That good?"

⋆˙⟡♡ You and Patri were going out on another date at a new club near her place. It started off well. You tried some unique cocktails and got to chatting about your college life and Patri's own experience back when she was still studying.

Two drinks down and you were already starting to feel tipsy but you figured that was no problem. After all, you were with Patri who was responsible enough to take care of you if you did end up wasted.

In the middle of your conversation, Patri paused to check her phone. "Oh, by the way, I hope you don't mind but I told Jana that she should come over. She's in the area and she said before that she wanted to meet you."

Your heart dropped. "What?"

"Jana, my teammate." Patri clarified, speaking in a higher volume as the music had gotten a bit louder. "She's really fun so no worries."

You blinked, feeling a bit anxious. "You told her about me? She's going here?" 

Patri looked confused. "Yeah? She's my friend. Don't you want to meet her?"

You sighed and started to overthink. You felt like it was irrational to feel this nervous about meeting her teammate.

You didn't want to admit it but deep down, you knew that if you met Patri's friends and teammates, it would solidify to them that you were Patri's girl. 

The fact that Mapi and Ingrid already saw you two flirting back in the club didn't help. Now, a bunch of other people in her team knew about you. Soon, it would be solidified to everyone that you were Patri's... and somehow, you didn't want that. 

Because that meant you were erasing your chance with Alexia. What if, at the end of it all, you decided to choose Alexia? Then, it would just seem like you were a slut or that you used Patri.

But you did use Patri. You used her to forget about Alexia.

The nagging voice in your head repeated over and over, making you feel overwhelmed with the gnawing feeling of guilt. 

"Do you not want to meet my friends?" Patri asked again, bringing your attention back to her.

"I- I just..." You started getting frustrated, not with her but with yourself. "I don't think I want to do that right now."

She looked at you confused. "Why?"

You shook your head. "I don't know. I just... why would you tell them about me?" You asked in a raised tone. It was sinking into you just how rude you sounded; you could have made up some excuse about wanting to spend time alone. But you just had to be too emotional and now, it was too late to take your words back.

The calm expression on Patri's face turned to that of disbelief. "Am I not supposed to tell my friends about the girl I'm dating?"

You sighed. You knew she was in the right. In any other normal scenario, it wouldn't be such a big deal to introduce your date to a friend.  But, you just couldn't rationalize to yourself why you felt so annoyed and anxious about it. "I just... I'm not ready for this Patri. I'm sorry."

Patri tried chasing after you but you waved her off. You were too overwhelmed with emotions and thoughts you could never explain to her. 

⋆˙⟡♡ The combination of alcohol, anxiety, and guilt had left you shedding tears inside the taxi cab on the way to your apartment.

You liked Patri. You really liked her a lot.

But... with Alexia, it was different. She made you feel like your heart was doing flip-flops. She made you feel so warm from the inside. You don't think anything can replace the feeling of being with Alexia. She was... something else.

You loved the way she took care of you — cooking you meals, carrying everything for you, making you feel good. You loved her kisses, her touch. You loved how she looked at you; you couldn't put into words how Alexia Putellas' gaze could make someone feel. 

It hurt admitting all of this to yourself because you knew Alexia never felt the same about you.

⋆˙⟡♡ After the grocery incident, Alexia felt annoyed and angry at you for blowing up the way you did. She felt like it was such an overreaction to what she said. 

But most of all, she hated how you questioned her feelings for you. After all the casual dates, the daily walks with your dogs, the grocery or laundry runs, the nights spent cuddling, the breakfasts she'd thanklessly prepar for you as you slept soundly in her bed just cause you mentioned you loved waking up to the smell of pancakes... she felt it was overlooked. 

She did like you. She liked you a lot, more than anyone she's ever messed around with. But she wasn't ready for a relationship with you, or anyone at all. She just never desired that ever again.

Not after Olga left her.

She didn't know if she could ever recover from another heartbreak like that. She didn't know if she had enough strength left in her to handle another failed relationship.

⋆˙⟡♡ When Olga left Alexia, she felt like she could never be with someone like that again. She hated the rollercoaster of a relationship; she felt like she'd grown too tired of it already.

She usually settled for meaningless hook-ups, the occasional one-night stand. She was content knowing that that was the closest thing to intimacy she would get ever again.

⋆˙⟡♡ That was until you came along with your sundresses, your clumsiness, your sunny demeanor. She found it hilarious how you would find so many ways to be around her. It was becoming blatantly obvious you had a crush on her.

⋆˙⟡♡ Sure, she first thought of you as just someone she could hook up with; the physical attraction was there from the start. But you were so... innocent, oblivious to her touches and comments, her advances. She figured that maybe you weren't really into her like that, maybe you just loved being around her.

⋆˙⟡♡ So, she let it play out. You'd go on your morning walks, share a coffee at a café, go to the grocery, do the laundry... she enjoyed it a lot until she realized she might be developing feelings again for someone who might not like her like that. 

⋆˙⟡♡ And so she decided to slowly detach herself from you, not seeing you for a few days.

The only problem with trying to detach physically was that she never considered how you still managed to linger in her brain. She couldn't get you out of her head. You were in everything she saw. 

Making a cup of coffee? Oh, this was the brand of oat milk you liked. Doing laundry? Oh, this was the top you thought was cute on her. Even Nala was all out of sorts, possibly also missing Ruby. 

⋆˙⟡♡ So, she tried other things.

She called up her ex, Jenni, who happened to be in town for drinks and perhaps, some good old fun. It worked for a while. Jenni always knew how to get your mind off of things

But then, just before she entered her apartment that night, she saw you, looking so cute in your pajamas with sleepy eyes and Ruby by your side.

And suddenly, you were imprinted on her mind again. 

⋆˙⟡♡ Even when she was waking up to a debilitating hangover, all she could think about was if she was going to see you again that day.

She dreaded the thought of seeing you, knowing it would only remind her that she was growing attached to your presence. Yet, strangely, she also craved your presence. She missed walking your dogs together. She missed seeing you in your cute dresses, how you'd blush when she called you pretty.

She knew that she was risking getting further attached to you if she did spend more time with you but not being around you was so much worse than that.

⋆˙⟡♡ So, she walked Nala that afternoon during the time you'd usually take Ruby out for her poo time. But you weren't there. 

She'd go to the laundromat several times with just a couple shirts in hand, hoping to see you fussing with things that shrunk in the dryer. Again, nothing.

She'd send you a text about something dumb like the supermarket near you stocking up on your favorite oat milk but it was left on delivered.

She was getting frustrated. She did start the whole avoiding thing but the way you did it was so unsubtle, especially after she figured out that you were taking Ruby on walks at ungodly hours of the day. It was blatantly obvious you were avoiding her.

It was a sign for her to erase any thought of pursuing you, whether it be for some casual fun or something more. She felt you were so immature to be avoiding her like this, and she didn't have the energy to deal with that.

⋆˙⟡♡ When Mapi sent an invitation to the team group chat for a night out at Manuelas, Alexia was the first to say yes.

She figured she might as well get drunk and get laid that weekend, instead of staying at home wondering when the 22-year-old down the hallway would come out of her apartment to walk her dog. She felt so juvenile and naive thinking about shit like that.

She knew that going to a club, surrounded by hot girls would be enough to forget about you.

⋆˙⟡♡ But as soon she entered the club with her teammates, she saw you.

You were unbelievably close to some girl with her back turned on Alexia. She grew angry at the thought of you flirting with someone else. She grew even more frustrated when Mapi leaned over to whisper, "Looks like Patri already found her meal for tonight."

She was basically gritting her teeth at that point.

⋆˙⟡♡ She hated how you touched Patri's arm with unspoken intentions and hated how she could hear you laugh from two meters away at Patri's corny jokes. She hated how you barely acknowledged her even when she approached you, not even a single smile or nod. 

⋆˙⟡♡ She couldn't help herself that night. She spent several weeks trying to give you all these hints and advances just for you to reciprocate none of it. But here you were, grinding against her teammate who you barely even knew.

Soon, the alcohol in her system had taken over and the only agenda on her mind that night was you.

⋆˙⟡♡ One night with you was enough to drive Alexia feral. There was something about you that was addicting, something that drove her insane. 

She's slept with a lot of beautiful girls, and girls who were amazing in bed. But nothing compared to you.

⋆˙⟡♡ She had to have a taste of you every day, sometimes even more than just once a day.

She was a woman captivated. Even when you weren't around, all she could think about was pleasuring you and what she'd do to you as soon as you were around.

⋆˙⟡♡ One night, you were heavily making out on her bed.

She was slowly grinding her knee against your core, gearing up to take control again. But this time, you pulled away. "Alexia, can I make you feel good this time?" You looked at her with wide eyes.

She smiled at you. "Cariño, I already feel good just watching you." She tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. She planted a kiss against your temple. "Come on, just lay back down; I'll take care of you."

You pouted at her with puppy eyes. Her weakness. "Please? I can't promise that I'll be as good as you but I can try." You pleaded.

She chuckled. "No one is as good as me, cariño." She sighed, pausing to give you a kiss. "But if you insist."

You were overly excited, spreading her legs clumsily before diving in. She hummed as she felt your tongue press against her, lapping her entire core in such a careful and calculating manner.

Once you were more comfortable and familiar with her, you wrapped your mouth around her clit, sucking like she did with you. Alexia let out a soft moan, which was enough encouragement that you were doing well. 

Alexia stifled her moans as you continued to eat her out, alternating between sucking and licking. She grabbed onto your head, grinding on you as you continued to eat her out.

She moaned out your name as she felt the pleasure fill her entire body. As soon as she was wet enough, you inserted two fingers inside, steadily thrusting as you kept a quick and consistent pattern of licking around her clit.

Just with a few thrusts, she could feel her orgasm approaching. And as she came, she moaned out loud. "Uh, cariño, I love y—" 

She stopped herself from saying it, eyes wide at the realization. She looked down at you but you were still pressed between her legs, not hearing her little slip-up.

She bit her lip, feeling like she was approaching dangerous territory with you and her feelings again. She told herself that it was just the pleasure, the sudden rush of emotions that made her almost say it but she knew that wasn't the truth.

⋆˙⟡♡ From then on, she kept your interactions short and casual. No more extra frills. She'd hit you up whenever she wanted some fun or stress relief but she'd leave it to that.

You didn't go on any more dog walks or errand runs. She didn't want to do anything that reminded her of anything soft or romantic. She decided that she was going to limit it to just the physical.

⋆˙⟡♡ Naturally, it didn't take long until you were demanding for her to tell you how she felt.

She cursed, thinking she should have been more limiting about it. Why did she have to go with you to the grocery that day? If she hadn't, maybe she wouldn't be forced to contemplate her emotions on the spot.

⋆˙⟡♡ Of course, she liked you. She liked you more than she would have liked to. But, she knew that you were young and all that commitment stuff mattered to you and she just couldn't promise you that. 

⋆˙⟡♡ She didn't know how to make it right with you without having to lie to you by giving you some false sense of commitment.  She figured you would have moved on from it soon enough and you'd be back to spending your days all over each other again.

⋆˙⟡♡ But you didn't respond to her texts. You didn't answer her calls. You shut her out completely. It left her annoyed and mildly... upset.

"She's just another fuck buddy," She told herself on several occasions. "You'd find someone else soon."

⋆˙⟡♡ But she didn't. Every girl she talked to was boring. No one even remotely attracted her anymore, not even physically. Even when she went to her usual lesbian club, there was absolutely no one that caught her eye.

That's when she knew she was in trouble.

⋆˙⟡♡ Alexia still didn't want to confront her own emotions.

If she wasn't going to fuck her way around to forgetting you, she figured she would pour her time into friendship, as corny as it sounded.

She'd hang out a lot in Mapi and Ingrid's place but being the third wheel just reminded her of you again. She'd prepare dinner for her younger teammates and it would be a good distraction until they made the same stupid Tiktok references you made and played the same songs you listened to. It just felt so impossible to run away from the thought of you.

⋆˙⟡♡ Jana was helping Alexia wash the dishes after a spontaneous dinner at Alexia's home. Jana always had a fifth sense when it came to her teammates, and she could sense that Alexia needed company. 

"So, how've you been, Ale?" She asked, cautiously. "You seem different from your usual self.

Alexia hummed. "Just bored," She responded. "Wish football season would start soon so I won't be stuck alone at home all the time. And you? How's Jill?"

"She's great. She's coming over here this weekend to visit me and her friend from the Netherlands who is on Erasmus here." Jana beamed. "Her friend is pretty cute, Ale. We should set you up."

Alexia chuckled and shook her head. "If she's on Erasmus, that means she's way too young for me." She laughed. 

Jana frowned. "I mean, she's a bit younger than you but the age gap isn't that bad. It's just like Jill and me." She hummed at the thought of her girlfriend. "22 and 30... not that big an age gap, in my opinion."

Alexia sighed deeply. Great, another reminder of her.

"Think about it, Ale, it would be so cute. We can even invite Patri and her new girl!" Jana exclaimed, enthusiastically. "It would be my first time doing a triple date."

Alexia nodded and just continued washing the pot she used. "I didn't know Patri was dating anyone," Alexia commented. 

"Yeah, I stalked her girlfriend on Instagram and she's really pretty. I think they suit each other really well." Jana beamed as she absentmindedly continued to wipe on the same plate she'd been wiping for a while. "Just like I think this Dutch girl would suit you..."

Alexia shook her head in amusement and took the plate from Jana's hands. "Let's focus on the dishes for now." She joked, absolutely not interested in dating another college girl.

Jana's phone buzzed and she gasped. "Oh, Ale, we should go out tonight! Patri's at the new trendy bar with her girl." She exclaimed, looking at the text she got. "Ooh, I've been wanting this strawberry cocktail there."

Alexia pondered for a moment. She hasn't exactly hung out or talked to Patri since the club incident but she figured that if Patri had a new girlfriend, it would be water under the bridge for them. "Hmm, how far is it from here?"

"Let me check," Jana paused before gasping again.

"Wait, aw, look how cute they are! They're so adorable together." She gushed before showing her phone to Alexia. "Look, Ale. Isn't her girlfriend so pretty?"

Alexia nearly crushed the wine glass in her hand when she saw a selfie of you and Patri with your faces so close together. She blinked a couple times before setting down the wine glass and trying to retain composure.

Jana still noticed Alexia's weird reaction. "Why are you quiet? Don't you think she's such a massive babe?" She gushed, scrolling through the other photos Patri sent. "Patri's so lucky."

Alexia rubbed her face and sighed. "I just didn't know Patri was dating my neighbor." She said, trying to make her stunned reaction appear more natural.

Jana widened her eyes. "What a small world, oh my god! All the more reason we should go out tonight." She smiled. "I can even invite Pina since I think she's around the area too."

Alexia shook her head. "Nah, I'm good." She responded. "I forgot that I have a dental cleaning in the morning and I have to wake up early."

Jana pouted but didn't want to force Alexia. "Okay, I'll just tell them you send your best wishes." 

Yeah, best wishes. 

⋆˙⟡♡ As soon as Jana headed out, Alexia opened another bottle of wine. She didn't know how else to cope with learning that you had moved on so quick and started dating her friend.

Here she was, going crazy trying to forget about you while you were cozying up to her friend and teammate. And the fact that all her teammates probably knew about it before she did... it was unbearable.

This was what she wanted to avoid all along — the same destructive feeling she had when she ended things with her fiancée. But this time, you two never even dated. You only saw each other for a couple months and yet, she was completely distraught.

She chuckled dryly to herself, thinking about what her younger teammates would often joke about when talking about their own relationships. "That two-week-long lesbian situationship will send you to therapy." 

She always laughed it off, chalking it up to kids being dramatic. She never would have thought she'd be going through it too at her age. She finished the bottle and decided it wasn't enough; she had to have more to drink but there was nothing left in her apartment.

She sighed, thinking maybe it was time to cool it with the drinking. But she knew it would be easier to drown out her emotions with more alcohol.

⋆˙⟡♡ You wiped your remaining tears as you entered the apartment building.

Fortunately, the cab driver didn’t catch your answer when he asked where you wanted to go, giving you extra time to cry as he initially drove to the wrong location. (Not that you could blame him—you were an American with no Spanish or Catalan skills, and your sniffling and tears likely didn’t help either.)

You straightened your dress up and tried to brush your hair with your fingertips. You didn't want your aunt to see you distraught again. One more breakdown over a girl and you were certain she was going to have you checked with one of her psych friends. 

And, you just felt pathetic having all of these feelings. You were so done with the tears, the frustration, the regret. It was more than you could handle. 

At least, I'm home now. I'm going to leave behind all the tears with that poor cab driver and genuinely, get my shit together. 

⋆˙⟡♡ But much to your dismay, once the elevator doors opened, you saw Alexia. 

You hated the cruelty of fate, forcing you to face each other again while you just cried your heart out about her in a cab. 

You kept your head low and considered just waiting for a different elevator. But Alexia laughed dryly and asked. "You're not getting in?"

You wanted to retort with a "and you're not getting out?" but you decided against it, knowing your voice would crack and give away the fact that you just bawled.

So, against better judgment, you got into an elevator with Alexia.

⋆˙⟡♡ Alexia couldn't quite see your face; all she knew was that you'd come home from a night out with Patri. She clicked her tongue, glancing at you before rolling her eyes.

"Not gonna press the button?" 

When you didn’t respond, she hit the button for your floor herself, stealing glances as she did. She wanted to curse out loud. She could barely see your face since you hovered close to the elevator door, and turned away from her—but the way your dress hugged your body stirred a familiar annoyance. How could you look that good, dressed up like that, for anyone but her?

"So, you're with Patri now, huh?" 

You stayed silent. Of course, word had gotten out to her that you were seeing her teammate. You were stupid for thinking lesbians wouldn't tell their friends about the girl they're seeing.

Alexia scoffed, pressing a tongue against the side of her cheek in annoyance. "So, you sleep with me... then you sleep with Patri... you got a Barça checklist I don't know about?"

Her words stung your chest. It felt like she was implying that you were a slut or that you were just interested in her or Patri because they were famous. 

"I didn't sleep with Patri..." You muttered out weakly. 

Alexia chuckled. "What? Scared she won't make you feel good as I did?" She taunted, feeling her step closer to your back.

This time, you felt tears fall down as she instigated you. You could tell she was drunk by the way she was slurring her words, maybe even more drunk than you were but you couldn't ever find a world where you would speak as harshly to her as she was to you.

"Huh, can't even answer." Alexia hummed. 

But it didn't take long for her to hear small sniffles. She furrowed her eyebrows before gently walking towards you to take a look at your face. You quickly pushed her away, not wanting her to see you this vulnerable again. The elevator doors opened and you walked out but she quickly grabbed you. 

She spun you around and her face softened at the sight of you crying. You tried again to swat her away. "Alexia, leave me alone." You croaked out.

She didn't let you go, keeping both hands on either side of you. "Hey, hey, what happened?" Her voice was more calm now. "Did Patri hurt you? What did she do? Why are you crying?"

You pushed her away again with more force, making her step back away from you. "Fuck, Patri didn't hurt me, Alexia! You did!" You said with a raised voice. "This is all your fault! So, you don't get to talk to me like that after you fucked everything up. Just... leave me alone."

Alexia reached out to hold your hand, keeping you from walking away. "I'm sorry." She said it sincerely. She hesitated for a while before wiping away the tears from your face.

She used both of her hands to cup your face. "Cariño, please don't cry anymore. I'm sorry... I'm sorry I hurt you." Her voice was soft.

You looked down at your shoes as Alexia continued to wipe away the tears on your cheeks. 

"I'm really sorry." She began apologizing again. "I should have talked to you about how I felt. I should have been more open about my past and why I was so scared to commit. Instead, I made you doubt that I ever liked you and that was wrong for me."

You gently removed Alexia's hands from your face and wiped the tears off yourself. "It's not just that, okay?" You said with a soft yet pointed tone.

"Tell me and I'll make it up to you." Alexia moved closer, putting a hand on your waist. 

You shrugged her away. "I just... I'm having it really good with Patri. She's funny and pretty; she's really a catch. And, she makes me laugh so much but she's also really nice to me. Like, attentive and sweet." You rambled on, still tipsy and incoherent from the alcohol in your system. "She's so good to me, Alexia. And I want to love her so bad. I want to be in a relationship with her and commit to someone who reassures me about their feelings so often that I wouldn't have time to question it."

Alexia stayed silent, knowing there was more left to be said.

You sniffled. "But all I want is you. I can't love anyone while you're there, at the back of my mind." You confessed, feeling your voice crack. "Even when you made me feel like shit, I wanted you. I still wanted to be in your arms and kiss you."

You wiped the tears that were running down your face. "It's unfair to someone as kind as Patri for me to be there with her but still be thinking about how much I want you... and that's all on you." You exclaimed, blaming her. "If only you were honest about all of this — even if you didn't like me — I'd get the chance to move on and I wouldn't be stuck thinking about you anymore."

Alexia stepped in to hold you in an embrace. She hushed you, brushing your hair and patting your head to comfort you. "I'm sorry, cariño." She whispered. "If I could redo it, I would."

"I was just... frightened by how I felt." She continued. "I didn't ever heal completely from my past relationship and it just left me scared of ever committing again. And, you came along and... you made me feel all the things."

You stood there, sniffling against Alexia's chest as she held you. "I just felt like accepting the fact that I was falling in love with you would be accepting the chance that you'd break my heart." Alexia sighed in shudders, feeling tears well up in her eyes as well. 

She looked down at you and you looked up at her, locking your eyes together. "I'm not making excuses. I just want you to know... I can change it all now. I can make it all better." Alexia whispered.

She leaned in closer. "I want to try again with you." She closed the space between you, taking your lips into hers gently. "Let me try again."

You breathed, averting your gaze away from her again. You couldn't decide on what to do but how could you think clearly now when all of your thoughts were becoming static noise. 

You wanted to give in, to try again with Alexia. After all, she was what you craved all along. But something inside you felt that that would be the wrong decision.

"I think I need to think about it." You looked up at her. "If we wanted to try and actually pursue something, we need to be serious about it. It would be the mature thing for me to do."

Alexia nodded and gave you a bittersweet smile. "Can always trust you to do that." She smiled before gently touching your face again. "Just give me one more kiss, just a kiss good night?"

You sighed before you nodded, letting her hold your waist in her hands. You locked eyes, taking in the moment and the proximity you had with each other. Then, your eyes both fluttered shut and you were kissing again. 

It felt good but it felt so different this time.

It felt like a goodbye.

⋆˙⟡♡ You woke up to your Aunt knocking on your bedroom door. "I made breakfast." She called out to you.

You blinked your eyes open and immediately felt the heaviness of your eyelids. You could instantly tell they were puffy from all the crying. You sighed and headed out to the dining room to have a meal.

"Damn, you look like some bees stung your eyes." Your aunt commented, making light of it. "You run into a beehive?"

No, just ran into a blonde footballer.

"Rough night," It was all you could say. 

Your aunt squeezed your shoulder. "We don't have to talk about it, if you don't want to. Don't worry." She said. "But if you want to... you know I'm just here."

⋆˙⟡♡ You were cleaning the dishes from breakfast when you heard the doorbell.

"I'll get it." Your aunt called out, signaling for you to keep doing the dishes. As soon as she opened the door, she cooed. "Ooh, quines flores més boniques! És para mi?"

Your aunt continued to talk to the person at the door as you washed the plates. When she shut the door, you turned to see who it was and were shocked to see your aunt holding a bouquet of various white flowers. 

Before you could even react, your aunt was reading the tag that came with it. "Huh, guess I got the wrong footballer in mind..." She commented.

You hurriedly set down the plates and ran to your aunt to grab the note from her and prevent her from reading any more of it. She just chuckled. 

It was from Patri. "I'm sorry for last night. I shouldn't have rushed our relationship. I'll give you space if you need it but I'm here for you always. -Patri"

You bit your lip, feeling the guilt in your heart grow tenfold. Patri was never in the wrong. Any girl would tell their friends about someone they've been seeing for weeks. You knew it was your fault and that she didn't get the treatment she deserved.

Yet she was the one sending you flowers. She was just too good for you.

⋆˙⟡♡ You were in bed, scrolling through Patri's Instagram and contemplating whether or not you should message. But what would you even say? I'm sorry. I'm in love with your teammate?

You wished you were honest from the start... or that you could just take it all back. Never come to Barcelona. Never experience this pain and guilt. Never meet Alexia. 

You put the phone down and decided to make yourself some tea to calm your nerves. Your aunt was in the living room, watching old clips from a Barcelona game. "That's the girl you're seeing, right?" She asked, pointing at Patri.

"Auntyyy," You groaned. "Why are you watching that?"

"I... wanna support my local club, y'know." She said with a shrug. "Can you make me a cup as well?"

You nodded, trying to ignore the screen that showed both Patri and Alexia; it was the last thing you needed. 

⋆˙⟡♡ Later on, there was another knock on the door. Your aunt offered to get it, pausing the video. 

You turned around curiously as you heard her chuckle. "Two in one day. Guess I should open up a flower shop." Your aunt commented, jokingly. "So... what can I help you with, neighbor?" 

"Is she home?" You heard that familiar voice. It was Alexia. You couldn't see her but you knew it was her. "I... got these for her."

You bit your lip, not knowing what to do. Your aunt looked over to you. Seeing the worried expression on your face, she turned back to Alexia. "I can tell her to call you later if she wants to."

"Thank you. Please tell her to call me whenever." Alexia's voice sounded disappointed. "And that I'm sorry."

As soon as your aunt closed the door, you saw that she was carrying another bouquet. This time, it was a large bouquet of peach and pink peonies. 

Your aunt looked at you with an incredulous look on her face. "Now, I think we need to talk."

⋆˙⟡♡ You and your aunt sat side-by-side on the living room couch with both bouquets on the coffee table in front of you and the TV still on pause with the Barça clips.

"Well, if you ask me, I like the peonies better." You aunt commented after a long moment of silence, still trying to bring some humor to the ridiculous situation you were in. "Did it come with a note?"

You shook your head. "Is that a sign or symbol of something? Are these a metaphor for something I'm missing?" You said, overthinking again.

"I think it's a sign for you to get your shit together," Your aunt said with a sigh. "Cause how is it that you've got two footballers sending you apology flowers in a day. What did they do?"

You shook your head and rested your head in your hands. "It's actually mostly my fault..." You said, muffling your own words with your hands as you felt yourself getting teary-eyed again. "I just feel so stupid."

Your aunt comforted you by rubbing your back. "It can't be that bad, darling. We'll talk it out and we'll find a way for it to get better."

⋆˙⟡♡ But it was that bad. 

You felt yourself wince and grow more and more annoyed with yourself as you recounted the events in detail. Your aunt was trying her best to be comforting but you could tell from her expression that even she was finding it all hard to believe. 

"And so, I just feel like I made a huge mistake." You sniffled as you finished telling her the entirety of what happened. "I didn't mean to lead Patri on. I genuinely felt like I would have moved on and actually be with her but Alexia..."

You looked at your aunt, who nodded understandably. "That's because your heart already chose her, " she shrugged. It sounds corny, but it happens. Once your heart claims someone, you can't easily force them out of there and replace them with someone else." 

You wiped the tears on your face. "I just feel so clueless and stupid right now because I put myself in a lose-lose situation."

Your aunt furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. "And why is that?"

"Because if I choose Patri, I would feel guilty because I know Alexia will always be on my mind and that I'll always still have those feelings for her and that's just unfair and wrong to Patri." You explained, sniffling. "And I love Alexia, even more than I have ever loved my ex who I dated for years... but I don't think I can trust myself to be vulnerable with her anymore. And I think I would always feel distrustful of her intentions."

Your aunt nodded, pausing for a moment. "But you do know those aren't the only choices, right?"

You looked at her to continue. She sighed, "You're looking at a false dichotomy. It's not going to be Alexia or Patri. It doesn't even have to end up with you choosing a relationship to pursue right now." She paused. "It could just be you choosing to heal... which is what you initially came here to do."

You nodded, taking in her words.

"You know how when you get a wound and it's barely healed but you pick at it and it just gets worse?" Your aunt tried to explain "That's what's happening now. You came here to heal from your ex-girlfriend and you barely let the wound heal before putting yourself in the same situation that gave you the wound in the first place. Do you get me?"

You nodded, feeling a bit lost with her vaguely medical analogy. "Yeah, kinda."

She sighed. "What I'm trying to say is... you can't keep running back to the same situations that hurt you and expect different results." She said as she rubbed your back. "And, you were right for coming here in the first place. You can't heal where you were hurt so it was smart of you to take yourself out of that place and distance yourself to give yourself time to actually heal."

"But... now, it's happening again. You're hurting here." She looked at you with pity. "And you can't expect yourself to heal from a past wound and this new wound while you're in a place that just keeps making you want to pick at the scabs each time they form."

Your aunt chuckled. "I feel like I've had this exact conversation with a nine-year-old kid who kept picking his knee scabs from falling over his bike..." She said, lightening up the situation. "But seriously, I stand by it. I don't think you can fully heal while you're here."

You paused. You knew she was right. If you stayed here, you'd always be tempted to run to Alexia who was literally a few feet away from you.

And, even if you were strong and had self-control, the thought of her just being down the hall would make you wonder all the time about what she was doing. Plus, the likelihood of you two running into each other was also enormous. 

You couldn't stay here and expect to heal. 

"So, should I just go back to the States?" You asked.

Your aunt paused. "If I were you, I wouldn't. Because then, you'd be comfortable in your environment, and you'd be bored and all you would do all day is probably watch Barcelona clips or stalk those two online and you'd keep regretting more." 

"When you first came here, you told me you'd love to travel Europe." She reminded you. "You said you'd want to go see the Eiffel Tower and Pisa and all those corny tourist traps... what's stopping you from doing that?"

You paused to think about it. You did have a decent amount of months left before you had to return to university, and you didn't want to come home and tell everyone that all you did was mope around in your aunt's apartment for an entire year. 

"But what if I still don't heal there? What if I still feel like shit?" You asked your aunt.

"Well, if you ask me, it's better to feel like shit while you're eating a pizza in Rome than feel like shit while taking Ruby out on her daily poop." She joked, still making sense.

You knew she was right. You couldn't waste time here, doing nothing and expecting results. There was no chance that you would stay here and completely move on from the remnants of the pain you felt with your ex and from the fresh wounds you got from your experience with Alexia.

If you wanted to move on, you had to put yourself first and leave Barcelona.

⋆˙⟡♡ You packed a small suitcase with essentials while your aunt helped you book trains and buses.

"Madrid is packed with tourists during this season. Why don't you go to France first then just pass by Madrid on the way back here?" Your aunt said with eyebrows knit together as she looked at your rushed itinerary. 

You chuckled. "To be honest, I don't really care where I go. I just need to be a tourist for now — be on the move and take all the usual tourist photos."

Your aunt hummed. "Then I'm changing all of your plans here cause this isn't a good route." 

You chuckled and allowed her to do it. Soon enough, you had a month of travel ahead of you with the first plane leaving early tomorrow. 

You sighed. You thought it was such an out-of-character thing for you to do — just randomly planned flights and train rides to random cities without any set housing or a clear itinerary yet. But maybe doing things that were out of your comfort zone was what you would need.

⋆˙⟡♡ Your aunt drove you to the airport at 4 am. Before leaving the apartment, your eyes lingered on Alexia's door down the hallway. You felt tempted to run over there and give her one last kiss before bidding your farewell.

But you knew that was just you picking at the scabs again. So, you used every ounce of self-control in your body and dragged yourself away from it. 

Though, you did send Patri a text. You told her you were still experiencing trust issues from a past relationship and that you jumped into dating her without healing. You apologized, making sure she knew that none of it was her fault and that you were genuinely regretful. You also said you would apologize in person but that you had to leave Barcelona urgently.

You were nervous for when she would wake up to that text and for what she would say but you figured that this was for the best.

You hugged your aunt tightly before you headed inside the airport. You wanted to cry, missing Alexia already even when you haven't left the city.

But you had to choose yourself this time. You had to heal.

⋆˙⟡♡ In just three months, you've been to Paris, Monaco, Tuscany, Venice, Munich, and all the other places you've planned (and didn't exactly plan) to go to. 

You did all the touristy stuff. You made several friends in the hostels you stayed in. You tried so much food. You hiked. You missed a flight. You ate bad cheese and blew your guts out in the metro toilet. You basically experienced everything — good and bad — and it was genuinely helping you move on.

⋆˙⟡♡ There were times when you stumbled — liking a photo Alexia posted and quickly taking the like back, sending an Instagram DM only to unsend it before it's fully delivered, basically going through each Barça member's account to see a glimpse of Alexia. 

It was especially worse when football season started and Barcelona was playing so many games. Even when you tried not to watch, you'd stumble into a bar that was showing the game. But soon enough, you learned to block it all out from your head and ignore it.

When you left Barcelona, Patri sent you one long message telling you that she was hurt but she understood where you were coming from and that if ever I needed someone to talk to still, she was there. Though, you never took her offer; you still appreciated the gesture. All you could hope for was that she would move on and find someone more worthy of her time.

On the other hand, you didn't know if Alexia messaged you because you blocked her number as soon as you boarded the plane. It felt naive and childish to do so but it was crucial. You knew you'd end up obsessing over whether or not she'd message you or what she'd say if she did. You didn't want to fixate on that.

Ignorance is bliss, after all.

⋆˙⟡♡ You felt like you were almost fully healed at this point. 

You no longer felt sick when you'd see Alexia play a game on TV. You no longer stalked the Barça team for updates. You were moving on, and it felt good.

But undeniably, there was still something inside you that felt empty. 

In all of your efforts, you figured that throwing out all the regret, pain, and hang-ups inside you was the best way to go about it. And it worked but it did leave you feeling empty and unfulfilled.

It wasn't anything too bothersome but you knew yourself that something was missing that kept you from fully healing.

⋆˙⟡♡ "Come on, we're both tourists here. We might as well make the most out of it." The brunette girl said, trying to get you to go out on a date with her. "What's stopping you from going out with me?"

You smiled at the brunette sitting across from you. The two of you accidentally exchanged suitcases and had to contact each other's mobile from the bag tags to switch them back. 

So, you met at a café near your hostel and you were shocked to learn that the owner of the luggage you accidentally got was this attractive brunette girl with a confident smirk and intimidating aura. 

"Isn't this already a date, Lena? We're in a quaint coffee shop in Italy, getting to know each other." You asked her. "If that's not enough, let's have another coffee then - on me - then we can go our separate ways and have a cute story to tell our friends. You can embellish it with more cutesy details; I don't mind."

"All we did was exchange suitcases and chat about how hassle that trip was." The German girl rolled her eyes. "The fact that you and I have the exact same luggage, were on the exact same trip going here, and exchanged suitcases accidentally..." She paused for dramatic effect.

"That's just the recipe for the most perfect meet-cute. It's fate." She reasoned out.

You laughed at her. It was undeniable that she was charming and funny and very good-looking, and the fact that she was trying so hard to ask you out was flattering. But you weren't really in the mood to date now. If anything, it was the last thing on your mind. "I've had enough meet-cutes in my life to know it isn't all that."

"Sure, a gorgeous girl like you would have experienced it so much already but that shit rarely happens to me so it must mean something." Lena reasoned out, making you laugh again. "What? Are you straight or something?"

You laughed. "God, no." You shook your head. "I just... came from a bad breakup, followed by two simultaneous situationships that had me running all over Europe just to get over it. So, I'm just averse to romance for the time being."

Lena's eyes sparkled with curiosity. She felt amused by your blatant honesty. "Tell me what happened then."

You shook your head. "Too long of a story. Besides, I don't kiss and tell." You shrugged. 

Lena huffed and rubbed her chin in thought as she crossed her arms, purposely doing so to accentuate her biceps. You rolled your eyes at the ridiculous attempt. "So, your exes must be hot, huh?"

You laughed. "Does that matter?"

"Well, I would give up pursuing you if you said they were hotter than me. That just means I've got no chance." She said.

You chuckled. "Well, then yeah. They're hotter."

She feigned defeat but paused. "Would it change your answer if I tell you I'm a pro football player?"

Your mouth dropped. What is with me and attracting soccer players? Was I a soccer ball in my past life for me to attract these women?

"That would just make your chances worse actually," You said with an incredulous look. "Way worse."

Lena sighed deeply. "Guess I've gotta go to that Juventus-Barcelona game myself." She said, trying to bait you.

You paused. You haven't kept yourself updated with the games Barcelona was playing. You knew it would have been counterintuitive for you to do so. So, it naturally came as a shock to you that they were playing in the exact same city you were in.

"Barcelona? Femeni?" You asked cautiously.

She nodded. "Yeah, my friend plays for Juventus and she invited me to watch." She took note of your expression. "You a fan of Barça?"

You hummed, not exactly responding. "And that game is when?"

"Tonight," Lena responded with a smirk. "Why? Did I just convince you to go on a date?

You laughed and rolled your eyes. Lena just laughed it off. "So, you are a fan."

"Yes, well, not really..." You answered vaguely, unsure of how to respond. "Kinda, I don't know."

She rolled her eyes. "Let me guess, you're one of those girls who saw those Tiktok edits of Alexia running around without her shirt on and so now, you're a fan." She joked.

You bit your lip at the mention of Alexia. It felt weird knowing that some stranger was talking to you about her without knowing that one of the reasons why you were in Italy was that you were trying to move on from her. 

Lena chuckled, assuming she was correct. "Well, I've got an extra ticket if you want to go... and I wouldn't mind if you cheered for Alexia the entire game."

What Lena said triggered a memory... of you and Alexia on the first night that you slept over at her place. 

You remembered how you cautiously watched her drift to sleep, talking about watching a game of hers when she said, "Promise that you'll cheer for me?"

And you made that promise. 

You didn't think much of it then. You were clueless as to what would transpire after that night. But, the fact was that you did promise her that.

You rationalized with yourself that she wouldn't have remembered and that that shit didn't matter anymore. But, it was just funny how this opportunity to see her again — in Turin of all places — was falling straight to your lap. It felt like a chance to fulfill that promise.

Maybe this was what you had to do now. If you changed your mind and ended up hurting from the sight of her again, you still had a month and a half to go to hop to more random cities and forget about her again. 

It wasn't a bad idea.

"I can just buy the ticket from you." You offered the German girl to which she laughed incredulously. "I think I've got enough cash in my wallet right now."

She smiled. "No, it's yours. I have no one else to go with anyway." She shrugged. "Can't believe I'm bagging a date thanks to Alexia Putellas."

⋆˙⟡♡ Your heart was skipping a million beats per second as you arrived, and it wasn't just because you were the only one in a Barcelona shirt on the Juventus side.

"Lewandowski fan too, huh?" Lena commented as she looked at the name on the back of your kit. 

You shook your head. "Not really, I just bought the only Barça shirt available from a stall near my hostel." You said as you scratched your neck. "It's kinda itchy actually."

Lena chuckled. "If you want a Barcelona jersey, I can ask my friend to exchange kits with Alexia and I can give it to you." She beamed, still thinking you were just some fan. "But that would mean another date with me." 

You rolled your eyes. "Again, this is not a date." You corrected. And I already have one of Alexia's kits back at my aunt's house in Barcelona, you thought silently to yourself.

She frowned. "God, your ex must be top-tier if you're still not folding to my charm right now." She joked. 

"Yeah, I actually dated Alexia Putellas." You responded in a jestful manner, looking at her straight in the face. Lena just laughed it off, clueless to the fact that you weren't lying. 

⋆˙⟡♡ The game was going to start soon and you were getting incredibly anxious. You were going to see Alexia after months of no contact. It felt like you were having an out-of-body experience.

Soon, it was time for the players to march in. Your seats were premium which meant that you were right at the player's tunnel — the first people to see them all enter.

Promise that you'll cheer for me?

The memory echoed in your head over and over again in the past hour. You felt a pang in your heart. There was a part of you that felt guilty for leaving Alexia without a single goodbye.

But you figured this was your way of making it up to her — by fulfilling that promise.

As soon as the players walked out with their mascots, you stood up and started to cheer her name. You felt like a shrill fangirl and you could feel the eyes on you from all the Juventus fans on your side but you didn't care all too much. You were keeping that promise.

"Alexia! Alexia!" You cheered, jumping on your feet. 

Pretty soon, the blonde took notice of the loud cheering that came from the Juventus side, ready to flash her beautiful, charming smile at a brave fan but when she saw you in that crowd, her face fell.

Alexia felt like she was actually dreaming when she saw you, wearing the previous season's kit as you screamed her name, locking eyes with her. (And were you beside Bayern player, Lena Oberdorf?)  

It genuinely looked like one of the several dreams she had of you in the past month; it felt hard to believe that you were here and that she was awake.

You stopped cheering and just flashed a genuine smile at her as you waved at her. Soon, a smile grew on her face again; her entire face lit up as she realized that it was all real and that you were really there, cheering for her. She tried to walk towards you but hesitated, possibly remembering that she had a game to play.

"Go, go!" You mouthed at her and gestured for her to go along and play already. You felt a few tears fall from your eyes which you quickly wiped away. Alexia just nodded as you gestured for her to go on, motivated to give her best now that she knew you were watching.

You had no idea why you were suddenly tearing up. It must have been the overwhelming emotions or the sense of fulfillment of keeping your promise to her that you would cheer her name. You weren't sure what it was exactly; all you knew was that it was all tears of joy.

Alexia smiled at you one more time and kept her eyes on you for as long as she could. You smiled back, unable to stop the tears now. 

As she ran off to the pitch, still turning her head back occasionally to see if you were really there, you screamed. "Go Alexia!" 

She gave you one last look and a smile before the game started. And finally, you felt that emptiness inside you get filled.

You were finally healed.

a/n: hope you guys liked it! if you did, please reblog and leave me your thoughts. (but please be nice... i am a fragile creature.) anyway, thank you for patiently waiting for this! i only did one read through it so there may be some errors which i'll just edit later on lol!

[lovelivision]

LET'S SUMMON A DEMON.ᐟ

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: kamo choso/reader

𝐖𝐂: 17k

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: when summoning a demon is successful, you suddenly find your life turned upside down. both you and the demon getting more than you bargained for in the other.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ only, smut, swearing, mentions/depictions of reader being stalked, mentions/depictions of the supernatural, light blood warning, cunnilingus, fingering, p in v sex, creampie, f!reader, she/her pronouns used, virgin!reader, choso probably ooc (demon)

This wasn’t a good idea hours ago and it’s certainly not a good idea now. Your friend rocked up earlier today, rambling about how she’s had a fantastic idea to summon a demon and bind it to do your bidding. Muttering something about needing revenge against one of her coworkers for always eating her lunch.

At the time, you had looked her square in the eyes and said, “You cannot be serious.”

“I am,” her eyes had sparkled and her mouth was curled up in an overly excited smile, “Don’t tell me you’re scared?” She was goading you and you knew it.

It’s fair to be scared though, you think anyways. You haven’t told her – or anyone for that matter – but you have a predilection towards the supernatural that you tend to keep to yourself. So, you very much believe and you very much were scared.

By the way she was talking about it, you could see she wasn’t completely serious, not believing that you’d actually successfully summon a demon. You however, well, you weren’t convinced it would work but only because you have no idea where she had gotten the summoning spell from, otherwise you one-hundred percent believe it’s possible to summon something otherworldly.

In the back of your mind, you thought it possible and if it was, you seriously doubt she’ll be able to contain the thing. So no, you did not summon a demon with her, at least… not at first. You had denied to, vehemently in fact, but the girl is good at one thing and it’s convincing you to follow through on horrible ideas.

She is the one common denominator in all your questionable actions and it doesn’t help that she’s obsessed with the occult and witchcraft and ghosts and just about every other ‘spooky’ thing you can think of. How many times did you see or feel something and have to pretend you didn’t? You lost count a long time ago.

Things are attracted to you, so you stay away, or at least you pretend you don’t see them, it makes your life easier. Telling her would just result in her curiosity piquing and possibly putting you at risk and you’re certainly not going to tell her of your ‘ability’ or unfortunate circumstance, not today… or ever.

Despite your better judgement and despite her history of having bad ideas, you’re sat across from each other on your living room floor. Floorboards marked with some kind of summoning circle drawn in a red paint pen she had brought with her. A little bowl is sitting in the centre of it, what looks like miscellaneous herbs and paper sitting in it.

“This is stupid,” you grumble at her, looking at all the candles she’s set up and lit, far too many in your opinion.

“Shush,” her tone is sharp, “I’m trying to focus,” she’s squinting down at the old looking book she has sat in her lap.

It’s actually really old looking, “Where did you get that?”

Groaning, she looks through her lashes at you, “Seriously, be quiet, do you want this to work or not?”

Tone dead when you immediately reply, “Not.”

“Sceptic,” she rolls her eyes.

Scoffing, you accuse, “You don’t even think it will work.”

“Ah, But I hope it will,” a smile is present on her lips again.

It’s quiet after that, unsettling so, but her sudden words are even more unsettling. Murmuring some kind of incantation, the words send a shiver down your spine, a bad feeling settling in the pit of your stomach.

The lights in your apartment are off but they flicker on for a second before going back off, you don’t like this at all. You don’t think she feels it but you do, the air is charged and all your hairs are standing on end.

Her words don’t stop though, eyes focused on the words in front of her, the feeling inside you keeps increasing. Like it’s pitching higher and higher, it’s making you feel high-strung. When she reaches the end of the page, it all drops at once. The feeling completely gone from you, like she messed it up at the last second or like there’s more that needs to be done.

Your friends voice shocks you, “Man… the lights flicking on totally had me thinking it would work.” She sounds disappointed.

Trying to sound neutral, you hum at her, “You know it never does…”

She seems completely unaffected, probably not realising just how close she seemed to be to summoning something you probably shouldn’t mess around with. The fact it didn’t work is for the best.

“Whatever, you wanna watch a movie or something now?” She gets up easily, hands patting her thighs as she does.

Warily, you ask, “What kind?”

Shooting you an evil smile, she gleams, “The Exorcist.”

Grabbing a cushion off the couch beside you and chucking it at her, “Oh, fuck off.”

Catching it easily she laughs and tosses it back on the couch before helping you up off the floor. You do watch a movie together but it is not ‘The Exorcist’.

It’s late when she’s shuffling out your apartment door, you’d told her she was welcome to stay but she had said her parents were visiting early tomorrow and didn’t have faith in herself getting there before them if she stayed.

Of course, she didn’t clean up her mess, left everything behind. Almost everything, she remembered to take the book with her. Sighing to yourself, you wander over to the summoning circle. Your curiosity gets the better of you, and crouching down, you reach into the little bowl, wondering just what she had put in there.

Something sharp pricks at your finger and you hiss through your teeth, not expecting it. When you pull back, you’ve accidentally left drops of blood in the bowl and inside the circle itself, what the fuck did she put in there?

Looking at your finger, you can see the little amount you’re still bleeding. Cursing your friend internally, you’re about to get up when the lights in your apartment suddenly go out. All the candles that had long since been extinguished flick back on, that heavy feeling weighs in the air again and you want to run but you’re frozen to your spot.

A cold feeling runs down your spine and the room feels like it’s full of static electricity, your blood growing hot quickly. Your eyes shut for a moment and you hope whatever is happening stops soon, pretend you don’t see it, pretend you don’t see it, you chant to yourself. It’s always worked before; you pretend you can’t see anything and you get left alone.

Though that may not ring true when you’ve literally summoned whatever it is into your apartment of your – almost – own free will. When you open your eyes, it’s hard to see. All the candles having gone out, but a pair of black boots are stood in front of you. You’re still crouching down on your haunches, head tilted down, the boots are throwing you off… do demons wear boots?

Whatever it is, is stoic, unmoving, just standing in front of you and waiting. Attempting to be brave, you pry your eyes up, scaling its body and… it’s… a man? Well, appears to be anyway, it’s– he’s standing there, looking down at you, somewhat impatiently.

His expression doesn’t change, “Do all humans crouch on the floor for this long or are you unique in that aspect?”

You frown at that; you know when you think demon you expect them to be murderous and angry but not… verbally hostile. “I’m scared.”

He squints at you, “Stop it, it’s inconvenient to me.”

“Having a demon in my apartment is inconvenient to me,” you mumble.

His arms cross and he seems genuinely ticked off by your statement, “Oh? Maybe you shouldn’t have summoned me then.”

Finally, you gather yourself enough to shoot up off the floor, standing to your full height, which feels like a poor choice when you realise he still towers over you. It’s not just his height that’s intimidating though, mostly you think it’s just him, his essence, his aura? Energy? You don’t know but he’s what you were feeling, the overwhelming pressure that makes your blood hot.

“Hmm,” he leans forward slightly, getting a closer look at you, “You’re a bit interesting, aren’t you?”

You don’t know what exactly he’s seeing but you don’t like the implication, “No.”

“No?” He doesn’t understand why you’d deny it, to him, it’s fairly obvious that you are different than most humans of today’s age. He leans back out of your space but keeps his eyes trained on you, “So…”

You’re still frightened but he’s not done anything, he’s not moved his two feet from that same spot he first appeared in, “So what?”

Sighing, he groans, “What do you want?” When you don’t speak straight away, he adds, “My interest is fleeting, tell me what you want so I can leave.”

“What I want…?”

“Yes, that’s what the summon was for,” he pinches the bridge of his nose, “Why mess with things you don’t understand?”

Your voice is smaller than you want it to be throughout this whole interaction, “I didn’t mean to summon you…”

He looks down at the summoning circle and all the candles, all signs pointing towards yes, you did mean to summon him.

You rush to explain, albeit poorly, “Okay, I know how it may look like I meant to but I didn’t mean to.”

He raises a brow at you, “This is incredibly annoying; you know that right?”

As you look up at his unamused face, you feel your eyes burn with your question, “Are you going to kill me?”

He grimaces at you, “Kill you? Do you know about how any of this works?”

“Not really, no…” your eyes flick behind him for a second, “…I meant it when I said I didn’t mean to summon you.” As your eyes adjust to the dark, you can take in his appearance more. Dark hair and eyes, pale skin, you regretfully notice that he’s attractive. Though, that’s hardly surprising, wouldn’t you want to be appealing to the people you wish to trick?

His head tilts at you but he stays quiet, he’s hoping you will offer the information yourself, asking you things has been woefully unhelpful so far. Only serving to make you more anxious and confused about what’s happened.

The silence is becoming unbearable to you. It’s the way he’s just staring at you, like he’s interrogating you with his gaze, “My friend wanted to summon you… not me.” You don’t know how much you should tell him.

He clicks his tongue, “So, why am I bound to you and not your friend?”

Bound? He’s bound to you, oh this cannot bode well, “I don’t know?”

Scratching at the back of his neck, his tone is tense, “Just tell me how the summoning happened. What did you do?”

Your hands lift in defence, “Not much at all, honest.”

For the first time since he appeared here, he moves and grabs your wrist, his hand pulling yours close. He inspects your finger, the one with the nick on it, “You bled.”

It’s scary, you’re scared, he’s fast and strong and now you know he can move and was just choosing not to, “Only a little bit… not on purpose.”

Dropping your hand again, he moves back, giving you space, “But you did.”

“Yeah.”

Frowning, he explains, “You’re the one who bled so now I’m bound to you, not your little friend.”

You nod as if this is all common sense, as if summoning a demon is so natural to you, “Oh… I see, okay, well… can you stop… being bound… to me?”

“In short? No.”

You guffaw at him, “What?”

He scrunches his brows, “Did your friend not bother explaining any of it to you?”

“Obviously not,” your answer was unintentionally sharp and you feel bad, since he’s been, well not kind but he’s not hurt you, “Sorry, no… she didn’t… How exactly does it work?”

“The way this particular binding works is – you summon and bind me with blood, which you have done,” he looks down at your pricked finger, “Then, I can’t leave until you ask a favour of me. After I have completed it, I can leave but I will still be bound to you and when you call my name, I’ll be summoned back and I can’t leave until you ask a new favour of me.” His frown settles deep on his features, “Essentially, girl, you have bound me to you forever.”

You’re wide eyed and surprised, who knew binding spells were so… permanent? “Oh… that’s… not nice, sorry…” You purse your lips, “Is there not… a spell to counteract it?”

“No,” he looks down his nose at you, features resetting back to neutral, “You shouldn’t have been able to summon me in the first place, I thought I got rid of all your human books that contained the information.”

Your brain gets a little stuck on ‘human books’, the implication of ‘demon books’ interesting to you and also amusing. He seems very forthcoming but you’re still cautious, “Why tell me all this? Would it not be easier to use underhanded trickery and get me to ask for a menial favour and leave without telling me your name?”

His gaze sharpens at you, “A ‘favour’ has to be specified, I don’t follow your every whim. You have to specify that the favour you’re asking for is the one I am required to follow through on.”

It’s awfully particular, it feels like whoever figured out how to bind him was very careful about how to do so in a way that would benefit them most, “Okay… you know it’s not lost on me that you’ve not mentioned your name.”

“Names have power to demons,” his brow twitches, like he’s annoyed that you’d noticed that, “You’ve not mentioned your name either.”

“You’ve not asked for it,” you shrug, “Human names don’t hold that much significance though.” Not as much as demons, considering you can literally summon him with his.

“You’re not going to give me your name?” He’s taken aback by your unwillingness.

Shaking your head, you say, “Not until you give me yours.”

His brow raises at you, interested, “My name will mean you can summon me freely.”

“I suppose so but I don’t really have any intention of using it like that,” you’re not lying, you don’t even intend on asking a favour, you mean, what the hell are you meant to do with a blood bound demon?

Your only intent is uncovering more information, he’s giving you answers and telling you things freely but he’s also keeping things from you, specific information. You’re not dumb, you’re not going to trust some demon just because he – presently – doesn’t seem to want to bring you any harm.

He challenges, “Ask a favour so I can leave then.”

You’re blunt and straight to the point, “I don’t want any favours from you.” He looks completely annoyed by your answer and you can understand why, “…You’re not going to kill me are you?”

He grits his teeth, “I can’t.”

“You can’t?” You find that unlikely to be the truth.

He speaks slowly, “I am capable of doing so but I can’t.”

“So, which is it? Can or can’t?”

“I can but I won’t,” he rolls his shoulders.

“Why not?”

“You have a lot of questions,” he’s growing tired of answering them, “The bind means I can’t harm you.”

Thinking on it for a second, you consider how to ask your next question, “What about the bind makes it so you could theoretically harm or kill me but also means you can’t?”

He sighs like he doesn’t really want to answer you, “We are bound. If you die I die–”

“–So why use the word harm?”

He stops, “What?”

“You said harm not kill,” it’s an interesting distinction, “Do you also take on whatever injury I may get?”

His eyes are intense, paying close attention to you, “Anything other than something of your own doing or natural occurrences I will be aware of… though, I imagine I probably won’t feel it as much as you would.” He cracks his neck, “I could torture you into asking a favour but it would hurt me too, though again, not as much as it would you.”

You’re trying to sort through everything he’s said when he interrupts your thoughts, “You’re getting very caught up on if I’m going to do something to you, if it matters, I wouldn’t want to even if I could.”

That gives you pause, “Why tell me that?”

He waves you off, “You’re very stiff, it’s uncomfortable to look at.”

He answers properly when you ask him things directly… you don’t know if he’s choosing to or if he doesn’t have a choice in the matter. Everything you know about demons are the things that everyone knows, or the things your friend has told you but you don’t exactly trust her sources. In either case you’re unsure if you can even trust any of his answers so far.

Even though you won’t believe his answer fully, you ask anyway, “Have you lied at all?”

Shrugging, he says, “Not so far,” and then he gives you the same question, “Have you?”

“Not intentionally.”

He hums at you, intrigued by your answer.

Against your better judgement, or will really, you’re beginning to relax slightly. His presence is overwhelming but after sitting in it for a bit, it’s not… off putting. It’s not a feeling you’re completely unfamiliar with, the little shadows that follow you have the same static feeling to them, just lesser. You hadn’t ever really considered what they were but you’re wondering now.

“The bind… is very inconvenient to you,” you’re simply making an observation, if he’s been telling the truth – which you’re still not sure on – this situation is incredibly beneficial for whoever binds him and incredibly annoying to him.

“It wasn’t made to be convenient for me, it was made for the express purpose of aiding the person who binds me.”

“…Right…” tilting your head, you look him over a bit more carefully, “…Is that why it’s so extensive?”

Either he wasn’t listening or he’s confused on why you pointed it out, “What?”

“Well, I’ve just noticed there are a lot of rules that make it harder for you to have your freedom after the summoning… so either you’re lying to lure me into a false sense of security or whoever made the rules really didn’t want you to have an easy way out,” you’re getting tired of standing here like this.

He notes, “You really don’t trust me.”

It feels a little silly for him to point that out when he’s a complete stranger and also a demon, so yeah, excuse you for being a little sceptical on whether he’s trustworthy or not.

Instead of being rude, you ask, “Do you trust me?”

He eyes you over, like he’s sizing you up, “Humans are supposed to be incredibly stupid.”

You scratch the back of your neck sheepishly, “Ah, we are.”

He makes a sound like he was about to laugh before coughing to cover it, “You’re perceptive, is what I was trying to say.”

“I suppose I have more reason than most to be cautious but I’m no smarter than the average person,” you shrug.

Clicking his tongue, he changes the topic, “Since you’re coming to understand, ask your favour, I’d like to leave.”

“I told you I don’t want one,” you don’t mean to be rude but it sounds a little harsh when you repeat your earlier sentiments.

He scowls slightly, “I can’t leave if you don’t ask one.”

You counter him, “I don’t even know what I would ask for.”

“Then ask for something mundane,” he’s getting impatient now, tone curt.

“I’m really sorry, demon man, but I still don’t trust you and I’m not even sure there won’t be any pitfalls to asking you for a favour.” There is always a catch.

His scowl deepens at how you refer to him, apparently not liking it, “Usually you would be right but these are different circumstances.”

The lights finally flicker back on and you squint against the sudden change, it wasn’t even all that light in your apartment in the first place but after sitting in the dark for so long, your few lamps feel like you’ve been flash banged.

Huffing, you turn and walk towards your kitchen, turning your back on him might be dumb but it’s also a way to test his word. If he tries anything, then at the very least, you can die knowing you were right.

His steps trail behind you, ignoring him, you continue your walk to the kitchen. Passing your breakfast bar, there is a little creature sitting on top of it and you falter almost imperceptibly. Recovering, you do as you always do and pretend you don’t notice it. They don’t frequently enter your apartment; you’ve never really been sure on why but it’s presence inside took you off guard because of it.

It's mostly shapeless, dark shadows, sometimes they’re rounder, thinner, spikier, they come in all shapes and sizes and sometimes they’re almost cute but they’re a nuisance. When you acknowledge them, they attach to you and cause trouble. Hence, your avoidance of them, it’s almost like acknowledging them gives them power. A fact you learnt the hard way.

Behind you, the demon make a noise of interest, one that irks you, “What?” You question.

“You saw it,” he states.

Turning, you face him, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He only raises a brow at you.

The creatures shape is twitching, reacting to the demon in front of it, not seeming all that fond of him. He reaches his hand out and flicks at it, the shape disintegrating, gone after he’d put his hand through it.

After touching it, he shakes his hand slightly before tucking his arms crossed over his chest, “Why lie?”

Your brows pinch together, he’s caught you in your lie and you’re wondering if it really will do any good in continuing with it. For the first time in your life, you admit to being able to see them, “It’s easier to pretend I can’t see them…”

He sighs, exasperated, like his situation has somehow gotten so much more annoying, “Ignoring them won’t work forever.”

“I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it,” you’ve been fine this long.

Moving to the sink, you wash your hands, wanting to clean the blood off your pricked finger. While wiping your hands dry, you jump when turning and seeing him right in front of you, “Don’t sneak up on me like that, geez,” your heart is hammering in your chest, he’s really quiet.

Ignoring you, he says, “Being bound to you just became even more bothersome so I’m going to tell you some things I left out.”

“I still don’t trust you.” Again, literal demon in front of you.

His face is incredibly serious, tone grim, “You don’t have much of a choice.”

For the first time tonight, you feel more inclined to listen to and believe what he’s saying. It’s not like he’s been light-hearted all night but he’s not been nearly as stern as he was just now. So, you nod at him, asking him wordlessly to continue.

“I can’t lie to you when asked a direct question, I wasn’t going to tell you because it benefit me more if you didn’t know but continuing without your trust is going to be annoying. I don’t need you thinking in the back of your mind that I’m going to kill you.”

He’s standing a little too close to you now, it’s setting you on edge, “Why do you need my trust?”

“You, are a target, those things follow you because of your energy. In short, you have a lot of it and they want it.” He squints at you accusatorily, like it’s your fault or something.

Taking a step back, you lean against the kitchen counter, giving yourself a bit of space from him, “They’re mostly harmless though, if I ignore them.”

“There are scarier things out there than them,” he alone is proof of that.

You’re trying to remain calm and collected, “That’s...”

“Remember, if you die, I die,” it’s almost like he’s trying to keep you calm, keep you on track.

You need to test if you can trust his words, “I’m really sorry,” he looks confused by your sudden apology, “But if you can’t lie to me… then what is your name?”

Oh, he didn’t like that at all, his face contorting in anger, “Choso.”

There’s a slim chance that he’s still lying to you, to get you to trust him but the utterly frustrated expression he’s wearing tells you otherwise.

He’s stepping close to you again, arms either side your form, hands resting on the countertop, keeping you trapped between him and the bench, “If you still don’t trust me after that, this is going to become incredibly difficult for the both of us.”

“I trust you…” As much as you can anyway.

“Had to get bound to someone like you,” he mutters angrily.

You’re a little offended, “Hey, I didn’t exactly want to get stuck with you either.”

Grunting, he pulls back, not paying your words any mind, “You need to be more careful from here on out.”

“I’m always careful,” does he not realise you’ve lived for this long, you’re careful.

He corrects, “More careful.”

“What else could I possibly do to be more careful,” ignoring them is all you really can do, it’s not like flicking them away would work for you.

“For one, stop attempting to summon demons,” his tone makes it feel like you’re being scolded… because you are.

Feeling the need to defend yourself, you murmur, “It was my friends idea…”

With no hesitation, he returns, “Your friend is an idiot.”

“Hey–”

“­–And so are you, for also doing it.”

You don’t like that he has a point, it’s worse that you did it actually, since you know these things are real.

His question feels like it comes out of nowhere, “What else does your friend like doing?”

You doubt he’s suddenly grown an interest in her as a person, “Why?”

Your eyes track him as he moves to the other side of the kitchen and leans again the countertop opposite you, “Because if they’re the kind of idiot to summon demons, they’re probably also doing other stupid things.”

Pursing your lips, you look away from him because he hit the nail on the head, “She likes to go to abandoned buildings, cemeteries… she likes all things… uhm, scary? I guess.”

Tilting his head, he looks you over again, he seems to do that a lot, “Does she not know about you?”

Covering yourself with your arms, you answer, “Easier not to tell her.”

“Idiot.”

“Okay! stop calling me an idiot now, please,” You get it, you’re an idiot, you don’t need this demon telling you that repeatedly.

“Stop going to risky places with her,” he doesn’t apologise, “Puts you at risk.”

“Okay,” it’s easier to just agree, you’re getting tired, it was already late when your friend left.

Abruptly, he announces, “Don’t bother asking a favour, I won’t be leaving for a bit.”

You almost sputter, “What?” You had just about resigned yourself to asking for one so he would leave and you could sleep in peace.

Rephrasing, he says, “There are some things I want to see, so I will be staying for a bit.”

“How am I meant to sleep in my apartment when there is also a demon in it?” You’re so, so tired, why is he so weird. Are all the demons this weird? Or is it just this one?

He is completely unsympathetic to your plight, “Not my problem.”

“You’re not very nice,” you’re not even really sure why you say it, like it would mean anything to him.

He doesn’t even dignify it with a response, just looking at you with an expression that looks almost as tired as you feel.

“Listen, demon man–”

“–You know my name now, use it.”

That catches you off guard, you hadn’t used it in fear of offending him but it seems like you managed to do that anyhow, “Choso…” using his name feels weirdly intimate, “I need to sleep, so you have to go away.”

Gaze even, he says it how he sees it, “I can’t and like I said, I’m not going to. There are some things I’d like to see.”

The most annoying part of what he’s just said is surprisingly the first bit, “What do you mean can’t?”

“I have to be within the general vicinity of where I was summoned or near the person I’m bound to,” he answers cooly, like that isn’t the most inconvenient thing you’ve heard all night.

“What? How am I meant to sleep peacefully? Have people over?” You have a date coming up, what if you wanted to bring them back here?  

He repeats an earlier statement, “Not. My. Problem.” No sympathy from him.

You raise your hands in exasperation, clenching into fists by your head before dropping them and letting the tension go. Trying to calm yourself, “I need to sleep, I’m going to sleep and hope this is some weirdly vivid dream.”

He goes to open his mouth to speak but you cut him off with a single hand raising, “No. We can talk more at an appropriate time, if you’re still here.” You inhale and exhale a deep breath, “Do not come into my room. Stay out here.”

Rolling his eyes at you, he dismisses, “Go to bed.”

Keeping your eyes on him, you squint, sceptical of him as you wander out the kitchen and towards your bedroom. He doesn’t watch you but you know he can tell you’re watching him. When your back hits your bedroom door, you slip inside and shut the door.

How are you meant to get even a little bit of sleep with him out there?

⟢

It’s dark in your room when you open your eyes, only a small amount of light creeping in from behind your closed blinds. You guess you somehow managed to fall asleep, it’s still early in the morning though, so you probably only got a few hours. You have never been more thankful for the weekend than you are right now.

Rolling over, you look at your bedroom door, wondering if that all really happened last night or if you’ve just woken up from a really weird and detailed dream. Flopping onto your back, you stare at the ceiling instead, not sure if you’re ready to face if it was real. You’d stay like this all day but footsteps from outside your room prompt you to get up.

Tentatively, you poke your head out your door, eyeing your living area carefully. A figure is sat on your couch, reading one of your books. It’s Choso, you sigh with the realisation that it was all real, feeling like you’re apart of some sick cosmic joke right about now.

He speaks without looking to you, knowing you’re there, “You read a lot of poorly written books…”

“Excuse me?” How does he manage to insult you in ways you weren’t expecting.

He glances at you quickly before looking back at the book, “I’ve been reading some of your books but your selection is disappointing.”

Your eyes shift over to your bookcase next to your television to see a pile of books sitting in front of it, like he can’t be bothered putting them back properly after he’s deemed them unworthy.

“You’ve made a mess,” your tone weak, exhausted.

His attention is finally off the book as he shifts to face you, arm resting on the back of the couch, “Those ones aren’t worth keeping.”

“I liked them…” Sure, they weren’t all works of art but some of them were cute fantasies filled with action and adventure and romance and… You feel like you might spontaneously combust out of embarrassment because… did this demon read the books containing porn?What a horrific albeit amusing thought.

He raises a brow at you, confused by your sudden change in behaviour. He ignores it though, not really one to care about your comfortability, “Are you ready to talk again?”

“I don’t think anyone would ever be ready for the kind of talk you wish to have,” you’re staring blankly into the distance. There are literally a billion different things on your mind right now and nearly all of them have to do with him.

His eyes track you as you wander over to the book pile he’d made. Crouching down, you begin putting them back into their spots on the shelf.

He hums from behind you, “It’s simple, I need to determine some things about your situation and until I’m satisfied I won’t be going anywhere.”

Groaning, you continue cleaning the books, “You understand how inconvenient that is to me, right?”

“You understand how inconvenient it is to me that my immortal life is tied to a pitiful human, right?” Before you can protest or really add anything to the conversation, he continues, “One, at that, who enjoys meddling with things that wish her harm?”

Ignoring basically all of what he’s just said, you glare at him, “If you’re so intent on staying here then the least you could do is be considerate and leave things as you find them.” Getting up, you approach him and pluck the book from his hands, “Or better yet, not snoop around in things that do not belong to you.”

He waves you off, “Things would go smoother if you would just cooperate.”

You don’t really have a reply so you don’t give him one, choosing instead to walk back to the bookshelf and place the book you took from him on it. This being your reality hasn’t really set in yet, how are you meant to live like this? Glancing back at the demon lounging on your couch, he stares back at you, apparently having been watching you the whole time.

“Ignoring me won’t make me go away,” he says it so matter-of-factly that it pisses you off.

Turning away again, you ignore him… like he’s wrong and it’ll start working. It’s not going to, you know that. It’s been made clear he’s not leaving but you keep hoping he will. Maybe you could blame this all on your lack of sleep. You’re so tired, the rest you got definitely not enough, though you don’t think even a perfect rest would be enough to deal with all this.

His voice cuts through your thoughts, “You said we could talk more at an appropriate hour.”

You groan at him, “You’re a demon, there’s a blood pact, you technically can leave but are now choosing not to and apparently plan on making it damn near impossible for me to live a normal life.”

“I’m not the one who decided it would be a fun evening activity to summon a demon.”

Oh, he’s struck a nerve, “Well it wasn’t mine either!”

“Speaking of, get that book off your friend,” he stretches his limbs, “I don’t know what’ll happen if that binding spell is used again while I’m already stuck to you.”

You snark back at him, “Maybe you’ll go bother them instead.”

Paying no mind to your tone, he answers, “That would be the best-case scenario.”

With the books all back on the shelf, you sigh, “It’s too early for this.”

Disregarding your bad mood, he changes the topic again, “When you go out, keep a mental note of the things you see.”

“That’s so much work,” you’ve put so much time into training your brain to ignore them, doing the opposite would be effort you don’t know if you can be bothered to exert.

It’s his turn to be in a bad mood now, “I don’t care, do it.”

“So bossy…” You mutter under your breath.

“Just do what I ask, you’re being so resistant when this is for your safety,” he’s growing weary of your attitude.

“Yeah but like… I’d probably be fine; I have been for this long.” You shrug at him, “This is about you being worried about dying but you will be fine because I am always fine.”

He stares back at you, apparently lost for words but the look in his eyes says enough. He hates this situation and he hates how blasé you’re being about it.

⟢

It’s been about a month since he first showed up and he still won’t leave even though you gave up and started doing what he asked. Paying attention to the little creatures while also not looking like you’re paying attention to them is difficult and tedious but you’ve done it. Somehow, there seems to be less of them ever since Choso, you don’t know if correlation is equal to causation in this situation but it has to be more than a coincidence.

When you had told Choso about this connection you made he only hummed at you in thought and then walked away to the spare room you graciously allowed him to stay in. He’s so dismissive of you but getting time to yourself without his overwhelming presence is a small relief you allow yourself to feel.

Having him in your home is weird to say the least, he’s not as annoying as a house guest as you initially thought he would be but it’s also strange that he’s just… always here. If he sleeps you’re never around to witness it and he still goes through all your things even though you protest every time you find him doing so. To his credit, you imagine he is incredibly bored so you’re not as mean as you could be.

Tonight is the date you were meant to go on a while ago, you kept postponing it. There’s been too much on your mind to think about dating, even if you wanted to you wouldn’t be able to bring him back to your apartment, not with the demon residing in your guest room.

It’s too late to back out though and you’ve cancelled so many times now, you’d feel bad if you did it again. So, you get ready even though you’re not as excited as you would’ve been a month ago. It really is a shame; he’s a nice person and you feel awful for rescheduling on him so much.

While looking in the mirror by your front door, Choso shows up behind you, watching you fuss over your appearance. His brows pinch at you in confusion, “What are you doing?”

“Getting ready,” you glance at him through the mirror.

He waits a moment like he’s expecting you to say more, “…For?”

Your brow raises at him, “I feel like I’ve told you already.”

Still, you didn’t answer his question. Something that has been growing to annoy him. He sighs at you, “Then remind me.”

Spinning to face him before answering, “I have a date tonight.”

“Hmm… and you’ll be going out… all night?”

The way he phrased it is bizarre to you, cocking your head as you ask, “Is that a problem?”

“It should be fine,” he looks to be in thought, an expression you’re getting used to seeing.

“Is there something you want or can I go now,” you meant it as more of a rhetorical question but he doesn’t seem to take it as one.

“I want to test something before you leave,” he steps closer to you.

You’d take a step back but the wall is right behind you, “And what do you want to test?”

He ignores your question, much to your dismay. He’s stepping closer to you and you feel worried at what he’s about to do, not able to do anything but stand here. As he wraps his arms around you, you brace yourself for something more to happen but nothing does. His hands pull you closer to him, your body flush to his. When you realise he’s not going to do anything to you, you wiggle in his hold.

He leans down to speak into your ear, “Don’t move.”

The words breathed against your skin send a shiver down your spine. “Were you just… in the mood for a cuddle or is there a grand reason behind this?” You’re hoping to offer levity, feeling uncomfortable at the moment.

It’s warm, he’s warm and sturdy, his breath hot against you. Your body temperature is rapidly spiking, your thoughts getting fuzzy the longer he holds you against him.

He pulls back from you, as stoic as ever, “Pay attention to your surroundings tonight.”

It’s not until later into that evening that you realise what he may have done by holding you like that, the shadows that you so often see nowhere near you. His little test lingering in your head the whole time you’re trying to have a nice date, not able to focus on the person in front of you.

Instead, your brain is caught on how it felt when a particular demon held you close and how his breath against your skin made your head spin. This whole ordeal is only going to become more taxing on you, you just know it.

⟢

Days have passed and your mind is still stuck on how Choso had held you, brow twitching every time you find yourself daydreaming about him. He’s the demon in your guest room, not some cute guy at work, you need to get a hold of yourself. You can’t be thinking about him like that… maybe you should just ask for a favour so that he leaves for a bit. That way you’d at least get some space from him, he’s always here and it’s getting harder and harder to ignore how attractive he is.

The sound of your mindless chopping fills your ears, trying to prepare dinner for this evening and getting woefully distracted. A slip of the knife and a pain in your finger reminds you just how distracted you seem to have gotten. Intaking a sharp breath at the cut you’re about to move for the sink only for Choso to be behind you, his unexpected presence startling you.

“How many times have I asked you to not do that,” you scold him, he’s scared you like this too many times to count.

He disregards your admonishment, “You’re bleeding.”

“I’m aware,” you blink at him, “I was going to–”

The words you were about to speak dying in your throat when he grabs your hand, his tongue licking up the trail of blood before lathing over your cut. Careful to watch what he’s doing the whole time, not wanting to hurt you further as he licks up the mess. You can only look back at him dazed, brain feeling like it’s short circuiting. He’s flustered you and you have no idea how to respond to such an action.

“W–why did you do that?”

His gaze flicks to you, mouth pulling back, “To help.”

Before you slap him silly you look at your small wound and see it’s been completely healed. Apparently his tongue possesses some healing properties, and you’d find that really interesting if you weren’t trying really hard to not think about how he looked while licking you.

“You taste good,” he says it easily, like it doesn’t have you melting into a puddle on the floor.

Your mouth gapes at him, lost for words before settling on, “You can’t just go around licking people, Choso.”

“I don’t,” his expression incredulous, finding your accusation baseless despite his actions just now.

Not knowing what else to say, you stand there looking back at him stupidly. The expression he’s making unreadable, clearly nowhere near as affected by his actions as you are. His hand reaches for your chin and tilts your head back to look at you, eyes examining you closely.

“What’s wrong with you,” he asks suddenly.

You don’t understand what he means by that, “What? Nothing?”

“I’ve noticed you’ve been distracted lately, what’s wrong? Has something happened?”

It’d be easy to mistake his questions for concern if you didn’t know any better, but you do, he’s a demon. Something you find yourself having to remember often, he doesn’t care for you, not in a matter that you’d want to be cared for. You don’t even know if he’s capable of it. It feels cruel to be asked questions and given reminders to look out for yourself when the person giving them doesn’t actually care about you but rather himself.

“Choso, please hand me that tea towel,” you pause and his head tilts at you in confusion. Clarifying, you add, “You have to, this is the favour I am asking of you.”

The only tell that you’ve asked properly being his grim expression, wholly unimpressed by this situation. His jaw clenches as his body turns stiffly to grab what you’ve asked for, as if he were trying to hold off on completing the request.

“Why now?” He hisses lowly.

There’s a tug in your heart, already regretting your actions but he can’t stay here with you. Letting your feelings for him grow would be stupid and despite what they say, absence does not make the heart grow fonder. This is logical, this is the smart choice, this is what’s best… so why is it hurting you so much.

Eyes intense and annoyance palpable, a singular request uttered, “Call me back.”

You shake your head at him, having him return so soon would defeat the purpose of what you’re attempting to do.

“You are the most frustrating human by far,” he begrudgingly hands you the tea towel, scowling as he disappears from your apartment.

The breath you let out is large, body folding with it, stuck between feeling relief and regret. Everything is still and your apartment feels emptier than ever. Blankly, you stare at the tea towel in your hand. Its bright and happy pattern feels mocking. This is fine.

Looking back at your bench, the half-chopped vegetables sit on your cutting board. This is fine. This feeling will pass. In a week, or two, this will feel like nothing more than a long and vivid dream. This. Is. Fine.

⟢

It’s beginning to feel like… the damage had already been done. The days go by but you still remember how he looked when you’d come home. His brow relaxing when you’d step through the door, like he was worried about you while you were gone. His patience while he listened to you complain about things he wasn’t even a little bit concerned with. It’s been lonely at home.

Your coworker calling your name reminds you that you’re at work. Shaking your head as if to rid yourself of the memories before turning to them properly, “Sorry. What’s up?”

“Wasn’t that guy in here during your last shift?” Their voice filled with concern.

Glancing over in the direction they’re looking; you see your date from a while back. “Ignore him, he’ll get bored eventually.”

“Okay…” They squint at you, “But actually I think you should tell management about him, just so they know.”

You wave them off, not really concerned. It is a little troubling though, the guy had taken it so well when you initially told him you weren’t interested. Only to do what seems like a complete one-eighty and blow up your phone with messages. Obviously you blocked him and now he’s lightly stalking you. Maybe you’d care more if he ever approached you or if you weren’t busy thinking about Choso but alas he is low on your list of concerns.

At your coworkers intense eye contact you concede, “Fine, I’ll tell them but I doubt they’ll care.”

They put their hand on your shoulder, offering support, “If he tries to come over, tell me and I’ll deal with it instead.”

Placing your hand over theirs, you look deep into their eyes, “I love you.”

Their face twists in disgust as they push you away, “Go do your job.”

You laugh as you shuffle away, despite your joking you’re appreciative of their support. 

⟢

Those little creatures hang around you again, ever since you sent Choso away they’ve been lingering more. It’s somewhat of a bother but you did fine before he showed up and you’re doing fine now. You go through the motions, ignoring them, working, going back to your empty apartment. Your date that you can’t remember the name of keeps hanging out at your job but he gets ignored like the shadowy critters.

Not that you’ve been keeping track but it’s been a little over a month since you last saw Choso. The last thing you remember seeing was his angry face, still, you want to see him again and maybe if you didn’t feel so guilty you’d have called him back by now. Too many times you’ve almost called his name aloud but your feelings haven’t faded and calling him now seems pointless.

Plus, you’re a little concerned about how mad at you he might be. The way you asked your favour was cheap and unexpected so you’re sure he’d have some choice words and a stern look to give you. Though, there is the chance he’d be mad at you for calling him back after all this time, he might be comfortable wherever he is and you calling him might only serve to feed his anger.

Ultimately you’re indecisive on the matter, you could call him back for just a little bit, if he’s angry you’ll send him away again and it’ll all be okay… probably. Mind moving a million miles a minute as you slump back into the couch, you called out of work today, feeling stressed after not sleeping well.

You’re not quite sure what exactly has you feeling this way but you’ve been feeling a lot of unease lately. It’s more than likely everything combined but you’re not ruling out something more sinister. Choso’s words about scarier things being out there nags at you whenever you get a quiet moment to acknowledge his warning.

Your arm drapes over your face, covering your eyes. Inner turmoil getting to you as you grumble, “Stupid demon and his stupid warning, can’t even sleep properly anymore.”

A knock on your door startles you, body shooting straight up. You’re not expecting anyone, all your friends are either at work or would tell you before dropping by. Cautiously, you approach the door, choosing to look into the peephole before even thinking of opening it.

An unpleasant shiver rocks through your body, blood running cold as you see that your unwanted guest is your date from all those weeks ago. You knew he was stalking you but he only ever appeared at work, you’ve never even seen him in your neighbourhood. The fact he shouldn’t know your address meaning he’s followed you home without your knowledge making you feel sick.

Taking a step back, you consider your options. Opening the door is out of the question, pretending to not be home and waiting him out seems to be a good idea but if he’s already been to your job and seen you’re not there then he might not be as willing to believe that. You’re nervous, there’s no way to know how much he knows about you or how long he’s been watching you for. If he’s been waiting for you to leave for work then he’d know you’re still in here.

In your anxiety you bite at your lower lip, worrying it between your teeth when more patient knocks sound at your door. You didn’t really want to have to turn to him but he’s probably the only person that would get to you quickly and put you more at ease.

Fleeing to your bedroom, you keep your hurried footsteps light, not wanting to draw his attention to the sound. You cringe internally at the small squeak your door lets out as you close it as slowly as possible. Giving yourself a moment, you take a deep breath and brace yourself for the probably very angry demon you’re about to summon right to you.  

Just as you’re about to say his name, you falter, wondering if there’s more to it or if it really is as simple as just saying his name. “…Choso.”

You’re on edge immediately, it’s familiar though, distinctively Choso in how your blood warms and your hairs stand on end. It really was as simple as saying his name.

He stands in front of you, frown deeper than you’ve ever seen it, his arms folded over his chest, “You took your sweet time.”

Instantly he has you on the defensive, “I had my reasons.”

His tongue clicks at you, wholly unimpressed, “Care to enlighten me on what they may be?”

Remembering your reason for sending him away, you awkwardly reply, “Not really.”

He sighs at you, clearly annoyed by your answer, “I assume you’ve reconciled with yourself then, since you’ve summoned me back.”

“Well… no–”

There’s a thudding on your door again, more aggressive than the first few times he’d knocked. Clearly growing impatient and probably able to hear your voices. You flinch at the sound, almost forgetting that there was a reason for you calling Choso back.

Choso catches onto your unease quickly, “Who is that?”

“Ah, well… you remember that date I went on? He’s sort of been… lightly stalking me.” You clear your throat, “I felt a little… scared… so I summoned you back.”

“How long has he been stalking you for?”

“Lightly, stalking…” You overcorrect to a decidedly very unamused Choso. “…I noticed not long after you left.” You can’t say you’re really appreciating the ‘told you so’ look he’s got plastered across his features right now. “Him stalking me has nothing to do with you so stop looking at me like that.”

“For a smart girl you’re awfully clueless sometimes,” his hand reaches past you for the door handle, “After I deal with this, you’re telling me why you made me leave.”

A conversation you’d really rather not have, it’s embarrassing to think about admitting to liking the demon you accidentally forced into a blood bind. Even more embarrassing that you had to force him to leave your house because he was driving you insane.

You avoid eye contact with him as he passes by, opting to stay put while he handles the unwanted guest. Having him back brings a kind of security you weren’t even fully aware of having lost, the fact you trust this literal demon with your wellbeing should be more concerning but it only adds to your feelings for him.

While waiting you can hear their muffled voices followed by nothing, an off-putting silence filling the apartment before the door is slammed closed. Cautiously, you stick your head out of your room, looking over to where Choso is standing. His broad back facing you, when he turns to meet your eyes you can’t help but feel guilty.

You leave your room properly and walk over to him, checking over his appearance to make sure he’s fine.

His next words are simple and chilling, “He was possessed.”

You feel faint, “What?”

“Not in any real sense, those things that follow you simply latched onto him, influencing his behaviour.” There’s a distaste in his tone when referring to the shadows before he continues,  “Probably hoping to use his proximity to you to their advantage, though they’re not all that intelligent which calls into question how they managed it.” He’s looking down at you, expression grim, “Did you forget my warnings? Why did it take you so long to call me back?”

“Well, I obviously couldn’t tell he was being possessed,” you’re feeling an awful lot like he’s victim blaming you right now and you’re not in love with that, “Sometimes men are just scary like that.”

“So, you’d rather be lightly stalked than call me?” He mocks you from earlier.

“Did I say that?” You sigh, tired, “Is he going to be okay?” You’re feeling a sense of responsibility for him, it’s your fault he got possessed and if you had noticed sooner he’d have been normal long before he followed you home.

“He’ll be fine, though he probably won’t remember much of his last month.” His brow raises at you, clearly waiting for some kind of real explanation for the mess you’ve caused.

“Don’t be so crabby,” you walk away from him and flop onto the couch, head resting on the back of it, “It all turned out fine in the end.” Not acknowledging how guilty you feel is far easier than being vulnerable with him right now.

He follows you to the couch, standing resolutely in front of you, “I know you don’t have this much of a disregard for your wellbeing–”

Smirking at him, you try to play everything off, “You’re starting to sound like you were worried about me.”

“Of course I was worried about you,” his words and the ease at which he speaks them catches you off guard, “You’re being inexplicably stupid and your faux ignorance at the gravity of your situation is becoming annoying.”

Okay… ouch. Any warm fuzzy feelings you had are kind of dampened by the harsh slap of reality he just gave you.

“I know things felt a little off but I had no way of knowing if I was just imagining it or not, don’t blame me for acting human.”

“Whether you like it or not, you are not the same as every other human, act like it. Those instincts are there for a reason.” He can see the way you’re getting antsy, uncomfortable with the way he’s scolding you. “Tell me why you had me leave.”

You scrabble at that, “Is that necessary?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” Is this really his priority right now?

“Because I don’t want to be caught off guard like that again and I’d rather fix what’s bothering you now.” He watches you closely, not missing how you only seem to grow more restless.

Turning your head to the side you offer, “If I promise not to do it again, will you let this go?”

“No.”

You stand up at that, trying to make the conversation feel more even, “And why not?”

He speaks very calmly, “I had to wait until you were ready to call on me, wondering the whole time if you were safe and only knowing you hadn’t met an untimely end because I was still alive.” He leans down into your space, brows furrowing at how you turn away from him. His hand grabs your chin and pulls your gaze back to his, “Don’t do that to me again.”

It’s hard to keep eye contact with him, his emotions raging behind his stoic demeanour. Your answer to his question is ambiguous, “I couldn’t have you here.”

He, of course, pushes back on that ambiguity, “Why?”

He’s infuriating you; his insistent pestering is annoying. Fine. If he wants to know so badly, you’ll tell him.

“I couldn’t think clearly with you here…” you’re confessing but it comes across as challenging, a result of your foul mood, “Because I like you and I didn’t want to let myself feel it.” As if he’d be put off by your admission, you cement, “That’s why I couldn’t have you here.”

The only response you get from him is an unreadable grin. An annoying and stupid smile as he continues to hold you still so you can’t even turn away from the maddening expression. It’s almost torture, it feels like some kind of sick and twisted form of punishment. Being in the palm of his hand, emotionally and literally.

“Human emotions aren’t all that complex but all the different reactions and rationales behind them are,” he hums at you, finding this humorous somehow.

“I’m glad you’re thoroughly entertained by my inner turmoil, now either let me make you leave or stop being unnecessarily cruel.”

He lets go of you finally, a small mercy, “I thought you liked me; you’re not really acting like it.”

Thankfully you have the chance to look away from him now, “Don’t push it, Choso. Did you think I’d fall into a puddle because you touched me?”

“No but eye contact seems to embarrass you, maybe if you gazed into my eyes long enough you might.” Pleased grin still settled on his features, it’s the most you’ve seen him emote aside from annoyance.

Your response is to glare at him, directly into his eyes. If looks could kill he’d be dead and buried six feet under. “Make a choice.”

His smile falters, “What?”

“Either stay here or leave.” Those are his only options, having him here will feel unfair to you but it might be more inconvenient to him, you want to at least offer him an out.

He’s genuinely confused, he just got back to you, “Why would I leave?”

You don’t really understand the confusion but spell it out all the same, “…I don’t imagine you love the idea of a human falling for you.”

“Is that what you’re doing? Falling for me?” Oh great, he’s amused again.

You can feel a headache coming on, fingers rubbing at your temples, “Don’t change the topic.”

He shrugs, “I don’t mind.”

You stop, “What?”

He repeats, “I don’t mind.”

“Don’t mind what?” Your hands drop to your sides.

His arms fold over his chest, “Your feelings for me.”

“Why not?”

“They don’t have much to do with me.”

His logic is flawed and he’s pissing you off, he always pisses you off, his feigned indifference is stupid. You keep glaring at him, eyes glinting dangerously. You step closer to him and he doesn’t move away, as sturdy as ever. Leaning up, you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling yourself to him.

You’re hugging him, he wavers for a moment before he’s hesitantly moving his hands to loop around you, hugging you back. Otherwise, he’s completely still, clearly taken off-guard by your sudden affections. You’re careful to make sure your lips just barely graze against his ear, softly admitting to him, “I missed you.”

His fingers dig into your shirt at your voice, you’re getting to him more than you expected to. Pulling back, you’re surprised by the look in his eyes. A lidded and endearing expression that almost has you forgetting the aim of your actions. Resolve weak because you’d really like to kiss him and with how he glances at your lips quickly you think he might let you but he’s a bastard and you’ve not forgotten that.

Patting his chest with your hands you smile, “Welcome home, Choso.”

Removing yourself from his hold you’re met with some resistance but ultimately you’re walking away from him and back into your room. Shutting your door, you’re leaving him alone in your living room. His head fuzzy and thoughts confused on what exactly just happened.

⟢

Having Choso back has been comforting, you’re living a lot more peacefully. Both your stalker and the shadows have left you alone. Going to work hasn’t been as nerve-wracking lately and in that sense it feels like a huge weight has been lifted off your shoulders. But while it’s been calm outside your apartment, inside it is a different story.

Ever since Choso’s return he’s been watching you a lot more closely than before, spending more time around you when you’re home compared to when he was first here. There’s even been a few times you’ve had to stop him from following you to work. More recently he’s taken to staring at you, your peripherals picking up on his unwavering gaze. Sometimes when you realise, it devolves into an argument.

He continues to be steadfast that he’s not staring, nothing’s wrong, and he’s the same as always but his behaviour is clearly stating otherwise. You’re the one who likes him, shouldn’t you be the one acting strangely around him? Overall, it’s not a huge deal it’s just annoying to feel so observed in your own home. If you were meaner, you’d ask him in a way so he’d have to answer honestly but it feels oddly invasive to have someone be honest with you against their will.

You’re just trying to enjoy your evening, watching T.V. and lazing but you can feel his eyes on you. It’s making it hard to get comfortable,so without looking at him you simply say, “Stop it.”

“I’m not doing anything,” he sounds sure, like he’s certain he’s not doing anything to warrant your words.

“Choso…” you pause and turn to look at him, getting a little distracted by how he looks with his hair down. “I can’t get comfortable when you keep staring at me, just watch the show.”

His head drops forward to look at the T.V., clearly unimpressed, “This is boring.”

Ignoring the urge to argue in favour of your favourite show, you retort, “Because staring at me is so interesting.”

Silence. He has nothing to reply with.

Groaning at him, “You’ve been staring at me so much lately, it’s becoming frustrating.”

Reply quick and wrong, “I’m not staring.”

You squint at him accusatorily, “You are a liar.” Growing exasperated, you grumble, “If you have something to ask just ask it.”

“Can I touch you?” He’d almost seem sheepish when asking if he wasn’t so blunt.

There’s an upsetting kind of excitement settling in you when he asks, mostly you’re taken aback though, “What? Why?”

“Because–” He begins to explain but you’re cutting him off before he can.

“–Choso, you understand that I like you right? I like the idea of–” you stop, the sudden quiet awkward before you start again. “The point is – I like you and it’s unfair of you to ask me things like that.”

“Is that a no?”

Thinking on it for a moment, you decide, “It’s not…”

His hand moves for you slowly, as if he’s cautious of the fact you might change your mind. Hand on your cheek gentle, a kind of softness you didn’t think him explicitly capable of. It lingers for a moment, thumb brushing high on your cheek before he drops his hand. Moving lower instead, wrapping around your torso. You’re not completely sure on what you were expecting when he asked if he could touch you but as he pulls you to him and embraces you, you’re certain you weren’t expecting this.

The angle is a little awkward, you’re trying to hug him back as best as you can but it’s uncomfortable and it seems to bother him because he’s quickly tugging you onto his lap. Arms big and firm around you, holding you close. This is a kind of intimacy you’ve not experienced before; it’s making you nervous, you still don’t know what he wants from you, and this did nothing to make it any clearer.

“Calm down,” his words vibrate through his chest.

“I am calm.”

He knows better, “You’re not, I can tell.”

“Ignore it,” you’re embarrassed.

He huffs at you, partway amused, “Fine.”

Then he’s pulling you in closer, his face burying into you, nosing at your neck. The way he inhales your scent has goosebumps breaking out across your skin, almost shameless in his actions. It feels like he’s trying to make you even more nervous, taking your words to ignore you at face value. There’s a sick kind of joy he has to be getting from this, from how your heartbeat speeds up and how your breaths come faster. You almost feel like you’re shaking with nervous energy.

Voice trembling when you ask, “What are you doing?”

His response is to state the obvious, “Embracing you.”

You murmur back at him, “Are you done yet?”

“No.”

How annoying, at least he’s consistent in how easily he frustrates you. His few simple words always managing to get under your skin, its effect on you running deeper than you feel comfortable with.

Instead of trying to understand his motivations any further, you choose to relax into him, allowing yourself to be held. You have a feeling that he’s not sure enough of his own actions to explain them to you, so you’ll settle for being confused but held.

His breath tickles your ear, “You missed me?”

“Hmm?” You take a second to process, “Yeah…”

“Say it.”

His request takes you off guard, you’re pulling back slightly to make eye contact with him. He wants to hear you say it, his eyes imploring yours.

Your hand cradles his face, giving him what he wants, “I missed you.”

“I think…” his gaze flits between your eyes and your lips, “I missed you too.”

A small smile breaks out across your face, “Be careful, you might damage your demon rep if anyone hears you.”

He leans up to you, his lips just shy of yours, almost brushing them when he speaks, “I wouldn’t mind.”

You’re about to say something that would no doubt embarrass you when he’s taking the chance to connect your lips. Heart leaping in your chest at how fully he kisses you, insistent in how he leans up to you more, arms around you and tugging you down into him. There’s a neediness in his movements you didn’t expect him to have for you.

It’s making you dizzy, his kiss, his hands on your back, the desperation from him you weren’t ready for. Like he’s been pent up and the flood gates have opened, barely willing to part for a second to breathe.

It’s a lot, you’ve never been kissed like this, so completely, so desired. It’s hard to think, all thoughts you have muddling together. You need to breathe but every time you try to open your mouth to speak he’s planting another full kiss to your lips.

With your fingers in his hair, you tug on him, he groans as he’s pulled back. Finally, you’re able to draw in the air you needed, chest rising and falling quickly with relief. Choso stays looking at you, his eyes lidded as he watches you breathe. It’s hot in your apartment now, or that might just be you, your skin warm, feeling warmer with how he’s looking at you.

There’s nothing coming to mind, it feels like you should say something, but you’re completely lost for words. He’s rendered you speechless, still feeling a little dizzy as your eyes drop to his lips, glossy and slick from your shared kiss. A small smile spreads across his face, and it prompts you to look up, realising you were staring.

You feel fuzzy when you remember how he’d said he missed you, a dopey grin on your face, “You said you missed me.”

He doesn’t deny it, “I did.”

“You meant it?” You’re already asking your question before he’s even really finished giving his reply.

He pretends to think on it, for no other reason than to tease, “Hmm… Yes. I think so.”

You mutter at him, “Cruel…”

His hand cradles the side of your face, so gentle in how his thumb brushes over your cheek, “Did you?”

“Did I what?” A little lost at his question, too busy registering how it feels when he touches you.

“Mean it when you said you missed me,” The hand on your face trails further down, thumb tugging your lower lip.

Your lips quirk up in a smile, tone playful, “I mean everything I say.”

The look he gives you conveys severe doubt, it comes from experience of dealing with you.

His expression earns an eye roll from you, conceding without him even saying anything, “Okay so maybe not everything but I mean it when I say I missed you.”

Hand trailing even further down, now resting against the side of your neck. He’s probably able to feel your thumping pulse under his fingers, “And the other thing?”

If you tried to guess what he was asking you’d probably know but just to be sure, “What other thing?”

“You said something about liking me,” he’s trying to play it off, a nonchalance he usually possesses nowhere to be found in his words despite his efforts.

“I’m starting to think you just like hearing how much I like you,” crossing your arms, you add, “It’d be cute if it didn’t feel mean.”

“I’m not trying to be mean.”

“You haven’t even told me how you feel about me.”

Choso’s head quirks slightly, “Was the kiss not enough?”

“I don’t know, maybe you kiss everyone else like that too,” your finger jabs at his chest accusatorily.

“Did you just call me a whore?”

“No.” You look away and pout, “I implied it.”

“I’m not a whore.” He seems distracted when he says it.

You squint at him; some doubt there but not serious. You’re not sure you ever considered him a virgin, but you didn’t really consider the opposite either. His hands are still on you, one slipping under your shirt, warm against your bare skin, the distraction in his words a little clearer now when you notice the way he’s been looking at you.

“Can I kiss you again or are you too busy implying I’m a whore?”

“You can’t kiss me again because you didn’t answer my question.”

His brows pull up, “Funny, I don’t remember it being phrased as one.”

Leaning into him, your lips hover over his, so close you’re almost touching. Just as he’s about to close the gap you pull back, “How do you feel about me?”

He sighs when you move away, “Right now?”

If that’s how he wants to play it, fine. “I’m not gonna sit on just anybody’s lap and make out with them.” You make a move to get off of him, not willing to sit so suggestively in the lap of someone who doesn’t even like you.

He stops you from going anywhere, his large hands firm on your hips. “Am I just anybody? I thought you liked me.”

“Right now?” You quirk a brow at him.

“Don’t be petulant.”

“I’m not being petulant, I’m just not willing to debase myself for a demon who doesn’t even like me.”

“I never said I didn’t like you,” he offers like it’s enough, gaze already set on your lips again.

The very lips that are pouting moodily back at him, not entertained by such a small concession. Instead of dignifying him with a further back and forth, you seriously move to get off him. Hands planted on his chest as you throw a cautious glance back at where you’re stepping. When he realises he’s not satisfied you his hands grapple for you, somewhat frantic that you’re leaving the comfortable place he’d had you sat.

Words rushing from him, almost surprising himself with how needy he sounds, “Don’t– don’t leave–”

“–Why not?” It’s sharp, how you cut him off, quickly growing embarrassed at how forward you’ve been.

“Because I like having you close,” he replies obviously, brows pinching slightly. He takes your pause as opportunity to manoeuvre you back into place, arms around you, holding you tight to his chest.

Soft sigh leaving you, annoyed by how endearing you find him. “Choso…”

“I missed you…” His face has found its way to your neck. Breathing in your scent, shiver running down his spine with it, “…Because I like you.” Almost like he can’t stop himself, he licks at your neck, tasting you. A low sound coming from him, “I like you a lot.”

This took a sudden turn from playful to frustrating to dizzying, the air around you is heavy as he licks and nips at your skin. Pulling shaky breaths in when his hand slides under your shirt again, the feeling of his skin on yours hot.

“I–”

Whatever you were about to say is getting cut off, “–Are you gonna let me kiss you now?” His words are spoken between kisses as he trails his lips up to the side of your face.

Without saying anything, you turn your head slightly to the side. Lips meeting his easily, melding together in a soft kiss. He’s careful this time but no less insistent, quickly growing less restrained. Your hands grip his shoulders, fingers pulling at the material of his shirt.

A small noise leaves you when he’s licking into your mouth, the sound seemingly setting Choso off. One of his hands jumps for your face, the other holding your throat. His kisses growing needy. It’s all you can do to try and keep up with him, his lips fervent and messy.

Your fingers thread through his hair, nails lightly scratching his scalp and it’s like he melts into you. Soft moan leaving him you weren’t expecting, your chest stuttering as you stifle down the whine bubbling in you. He sounded so pretty when he moaned, you want to hear it again. Repeating the motion, you nip at his lower lip at the same time, trying to coax it out of him.

Unfortunately, he stuffs down the noise the second time, just barely – his body shudders with it. He uses his hand on your throat to hold you in place, his forehead resting on yours. Huffed breaths shared in the space between you, your eyes are unfocused and glassy, his much the same. You’re trying to calm yourself, worked up and very nearly squirming on top of him.

There’s something you should tell him, especially with how heated this exchange is getting but you can’t seem to get your head on straight long enough to voice yourself. Choso seems to be able to tell that you’re struggling though, his expression amused but no less kiss drunk than you.

Showing mercy, he gives you an opening, “What’s wrong?”

“I just…” This is embarrassing, “I don’t wanna be presumptuous or anything but you should– uhm… I just think you should know…” your skin feels unbelievably hot right now, feeling flushed as you murmur, “…I’m a virgin.”

He hums at you, completely unsurprised at your confession, “I know.” He ignores your sputtering at his simple statement, nose running along your cheek in a soft show of affection.

“What do you mean–” You fight to hide the shiver running down your spine at his gentle touch.

“–Are you telling me this because you want to have sex?” His words are low against your skin, something about him feeling predatory, “Do you want me to take your virginity?”

Choso can’t help but feel greedy, the idea of you letting him – a demon – be your first fills him with a possessiveness he couldn’t explain in a way that wouldn’t have him looking like a huge pervert.

Your voice is shaky as you avoid answering him, “You never answer my questions…”

He huffs a small laugh, having purposefully cut you off so he didn’t have to answer, “Do you really want to know how I know?”

Something about how he looks at you, eyes glinting in the soft light of the room has you questioning if you really want to. “Is the answer going to embarrass me?”

“You?” He makes a soft sound, his thumb smooths over your throat, “Probably, you fluster easily.”

“I don’t fluster easily…” his gaze is setting your skin on fire, “…I just like you is all.”

“So you’ve said,” he mumbles out, leaning in and licking up the length of your throat where his hand just was.

The reaction he gets from you is damn near visceral, a gasp pulling from you at the sudden action. Your brain is rebooting, struggling to form words when he begins nipping at your neck. Anything you were about to say comes in the form of jumbled words and weak moans. A sound he seems to delight in if the curling of his lips against your skin is anything to go by.

“You get distracted easily,” his breath is ticklish against you, “You never answered my question.”

Did he ask a question? You suddenly can’t remember, “What was the question again?”

He laughs at your lapse in memory, “Did you want me to fuck you?”

The choice in phrasing makes you bristle, hating how he’s right that you fluster easily. He’s taking joy in how you pause at his question, obviously having asked so bluntly just to watch you squirm. Choso is patient though, happy to continue leaving marks on your delicate skin while you try to get it together enough to reply. His canines grazing over the patches of skin he’s sucked marks into, the shivers that run through you at it making him smile.

“Y– hah– yeah…” your reply is clumsy and breathy. His lips are off your neck as soon as you answer, his arms hold onto your thighs as he stands. Not expecting to be picked up you let out a refrained squeal and wrap your limbs around him tight. “A warning would’ve been nice,” you chastise him, to which he pays no mind. 

All of Choso’s focus is on getting you to your bedroom, knowing better than trying to fuck you on your couch, not for your first time anyways. And now his head is full of all the times after, will you let him take you on all the surfaces in your home? Will you pick fucking him on your couch over the completely inane show you were watching earlier?

When he reaches your bed, he leans down, aiming to gently lay you on your mattress but you’re still clinging to him. He speaks into your skin, “Trying to put you down.”

“Right…” You smile bashfully and let go, dropping the last inch onto your bed.

He’s crawling over you and moving in to kiss you softly, lips gentle as he holds you. It’s sweet and fleeting, already he’s pulling away from you to pull his shirt off. Leaving himself bare to you, his skin enticing. Only realising the meaning behind this action when his hand is trailing down to your pants, fingers dancing along your waistline. He’d taken his shirt off to ease your nerves about him undressing you.

Little glimpses of how he regards you in his actions, treating you with a kindness you’ve never felt. A concern for how you feel and how he makes you feel, all completely wordless, not feeling the need to explain himself. The fingers at your pants tickle against your skin, his eyes meeting yours and finding that you’re looking at him with borderline hearts in your eyes.

His hand slips past your waist band, tugging your pants down over your hips. You lift your legs to aid in his removal of them, feeling absurdly shy lying in front of him in nothing but a shirt and your underwear.

Palms smooth up your inner thighs, lightly pushing your legs open for him to sit between. His eyes burn into you, making you feel nervous. You try to close your legs but his hands are heavy on you, keeping them open. When you look at him, you can see his skin flushing a very pretty light pink.

“You’re so wet,” he comments, hoping to fluster you more than him.

It works because you’re squirming again, legs struggling fruitlessly against his grip, “Shuddup.”

Mindless hum coming from him as acknowledgement and you doubt it’s because he’s actually heeding your words. More so he’s had another thought and moved on, motives clear when one of his hands moves from your plush thigh and to your panties. Thumb pressing into the wet spot on them, dipping into your cunt only to tease you.

Drawing his thumb up, he presses into your clit, giving pressure against it and not much else. Small whines and stuttered breaths leaving you at his teasing, feeling completely on edge and realising he’s probably not going to stop teasing any time soon. Clearly he gets pleasure from watching you fidget and struggle to keep your noises contained.

He tortuously plays with you over your panties for too long, fingers sweeping from your clit to your hole and back too many times. Your wetness leaking into your underwear the longer he plays with you, the thin material moulding to your pussy. Hips jumping every time his finger trails over your clit, pleasure so muted that you’re growing frustrated with him.

“Choso,” you grumble at him, reaching your limit.

He barely glances at you, still playing with your pussy, “Finally found your voice?”

Bastard… he’d been waiting for you to say something. His patience almost frightening, no hurry in his movements.

“Can you… do more?” This is embarrassing, it’s your first time and he’s teasing you so cruelly, “Please?”

He smiles politely at you, “Of course.”

Bastard…

Finally, after what feels like hours, he’s tugging your panties down your legs. Foreboding smile on his face as he holds them up, thumbing over the crotch of your drenched underwear. At your disgruntled whine he discards them to some corner of your room haphazardly. Feeling so vulnerable, you go to close your legs again, the contrast between his and your state of dress something you’re too conscious of all of a sudden.

“Keep your legs open,” he chastises, hand on your knees and pushing them apart obscenely.

When he shuffles to lean down you startle, “You– you don’t have to do that…”

“You don’t want me too?” His eyebrow quirks at you.

“You won’t get anything out of it…”

He’s a little annoyed that you stopped him for such a stupid reason, “Not what I asked, do you want me to eat your pussy?”

You can’t look at him, face absurdly hot, “…Yes.”

“Worried about stupid things,” he murmurs, moving onto his stomach again. Pulling you closer to his face once he’s in place, “I’m going to enjoy this immensely.”

Stuttered gasp leaving you, he’s not waited anymore, apparently having deprived himself long enough. Maybe it’s his fault for playing with you for so long but he’s grown desperate for this, if you hadn’t let him, his heart might’ve broken. He licks through your cunt, tongue opening up your slit. Small grumbles leaving him as he drinks you down, his arms wrap around your legs and tug you open more, face pushing into you.

You’re a little worried he’s going to suffocate himself, his eagerness staggering. Just as you’re about to say something to him, his tongue is insistently pushing inside your hole. Shocked whines leaving you as he fucks you with it, his nose rubbing into your clit. You’re a twitching mess, already so pathetically close. All his teasing has made everything so much more sensitive, head fuzzy as he laps at your cunt.

One of your hands reaches down and threads through his hair, tugging on him. He doesn’t even flinch, throaty moan leaving him the only evidence that you had actually pulled on him. He’s ravenous and obsessed with how you’re fluttering around his tongue, your small whines and huffed breaths making him dizzy.

Looking down at him you hope to mumble out anything but when you’re met with his glazed over and lidded stare, your heart stumbles in your chest, pussy jumping. He looks drunk on you, his throat bobbing as he slurps down your slick. He’s messy and the sounds filling the room are wet and depraved. With how he’s fucking into you and the look on his face, you can’t tell if this is more for your benefit or his.

Cries of his name leave you, stumbling over the syllables every time his nose presses into your clit just right. Then he’s withdrawing his tongue, sad pitiful noise leaving you at the loss of getting so close. A hand leaves your thigh, single digit probing at your entrance, pushing in so carefully. His eyes locked on how you’re stretching around his finger to accommodate him, he feels like he’s going to start drooling.

Your cunt so warm and tight around his finger, his chest pulling at the thought of opening you up with his cock. The clumsy manner in which you’re calling out to him making him feel sickly fond of you, pressing a light kiss onto your inner thigh.

Unexpectedly, he praises you, “You’re pretty,” murmured low, his eyes racking over your whole form.

The compliment has you shy, it’d be so sweet if your slick wasn’t dripping down his chin. “I– thank you…” you look away from him.

He chuckles at your response, refocusing on your cunt, slowly pumping his finger in and out. Relishing in how you squirm at it, beginning to seriously doubt your ability to take him. Taking his time in opening you up, digit rubbing against your inner walls just to watch your chest stutter and hips twitch.

Not adding a second finger until your whines are pitchy and you’re relaxing around him, stuffing your little cunt full with his two big fingers. The feel of your walls clamping down on them making his dick twitch in his pants. Scissoring his two digits to stretch you open, impatient and mouth watering, he’s leaning down to lick at your pussy again. Tongue slipping in with his fingers just to get a taste of you before slurping at your clit.

You feel full and dizzy, head lolling back as he fucks into you, struggling to close your legs around his body. Free hand still holding you, pushing up to open you even more. Choso’s name leaving you through mumbles, hard to talk around your moans. The way he’s stroking your walls has you seeing stars, his tongue on your clit making your back arch.

It’s so much, not able to decide if you’re trying to roll your hips down into him or if you want to pull away. Not that you’re getting much of a choice anyways, anytime you twitch away he’s growling at you and pulling you right back down to him. The sounds of his fingers fucking into your pussy filling the room, wet slapping that would be embarrassing if you weren’t getting so close.  

The hand in his hair tugging on him again, dark moan leaving him, not stopping for a moment. He can feel how you’re squeezing down on his fingers; he can hear the way you’re skipping breaths, thighs shaking from the build-up. He doesn’t stop, even as you whine and push at him, so sensitive that your impending orgasm feels like too much. He’s not depriving you of this, he’s not depriving himself of this.

With a loud gasp and shocked whine, you’re cumming around his fingers. Almost feels like Choso purrs at how you’re contracting around him, not stopping his movements to help you ride out your high. Eventually pulling his fingers out of you only to grab onto your other thigh and pull you completely open. Mouth on your cunt before you’ve even really registered that he’s made you cum.

He lewdly slurps at your pussy, apparently having been patient about making you cum when this is what he really wanted. You’re sensitive and flinching away from him, soft whimpers leaving you, not even able to try and move away from him with how he’s holding you. The hand you have in his hair pushing at his head weakly.

“Choso– it’s– hah– too much,” your eyes feel wet and your thoughts are foggy.

He groans in disappointment but pulls back all the same, though not before blowing lightly on your clit, smile evil at your twitchy reaction. Showing mercy, he moves his head to rest against your thigh. Teeth nibbling at your skin, tongue lathing over the small marks he’s made. Finally sitting up and resting on his knees, he delights in how ruined you look. Marks he’s left on you from all his kisses on your neck, your thighs, cunt glistening with your cum and his saliva, eyes glazed, lips swollen from his kisses and how you’d been biting at them.

Readjusting, he trails his hands up your sides, pushing your shirt upwards as he goes. His eyes meet yours, checking to make sure you’re okay with his actions. You’re lifting your arms to help him take it off properly, shirt sharing the same fate as you’re other clothes and being banished to the floor.

He can’t help himself, hands groping at your tits, squeezing and pulling at you. Lightly pinching at your nipples just to make you gasp. Leaning down he lays his tongue flat over your nipple, licking at it sloppily. Messy in how he drools onto your sensitive skin, hands still pawing at the fat of your tits.

Distracted by how he’s playing with your naked body, neglecting his throbbing cock. Switching his mouth to your other nipple, teeth dragging over it lightly. His dick leaking into his pants at the shiver he pulls from you.

“Cho–” his name gets caught in your throat at how he pinches at you, back arching up into him.

The small way you called out to him seemingly enough to pull him back to, finally removing his mouth from you in an obscene display. Thin string of spit connecting his mouth to your skin, breaking when his tongue passes over his lower lip. Moving upwards, his face nuzzles into the side of your cheek, leaving soft and wet kisses against you. Fighting the urge to leave even more marks on you, instead resting his mouth next to your ear.

“You doing okay?” His breath is warm but still it sends a pleasant chill down your spine.

You nod your head at him in response to his question, not feeling sure enough of your voice to try and speak.  

A hand holds the side of your face, his lips meeting yours in a wet kiss. Tongue licking into your mouth fervently, small groan sounding from him when your hands hold onto his shoulders, appreciating your touch. He’s warm, a comforting warmth that you’re coming to crave from him. Looping your arms around his shoulders, you pull him down onto you, his skin against yours.

His mouth parts from yours at the sudden shift but lets it happen, his arms scooping under and around you. Skin against yours tickling a part of your brain nicely, your legs wrap around him. Wanting him pressed up against you completely, only to whine when you’re met with the material of his pants.

Choso huffs a small laugh at your disgruntled noise, amused by your desire to have him pressed to you. He shifts to sit up but you’re clinging to him, refusing to let go. “If you want me to take off my pants I need to sit up.”

Annoyed, you let go and flop back onto the mattress. His eyes watch the way your tits move with the force of your landing and you cross your arms over them, “Take off your pants then.”

He doesn’t waste any more time, tugging his pants off hastily, like he’s suddenly been reminded of just how hard his aching cock is. It’s quick how he undresses himself, one second wearing pants and the next completely bare with his large cock in his hand. Lightly stroking himself, hissing between his teeth at the slight pressure.

Flushed a deep pink, so hard and leaking precum down the length of himself, it looks almost painful. Before you can reach out for him, a hand is pushing back on your thigh, “Need to be in you.”

You don’t even get a chance to be shy, not with the way he’s rubbing the tip of his dick between your folds. From your hole to your clit and back down again, pressing into you just slightly each time.

He speaks through his teeth, “You need to relax.”

“I am relaxed,” you return.

“You’re not,” he can barely push in, too worried about hurting you.

He presses his thumb to your lips, about to ask you to lick, surprised when your lips wrap around it and suck lightly. His skin flushing a deeper pink, feeling like he’s about to melt into a puddle in front of you. A breath shudders through him as he pulls his thumb from you, reaching down and rubbing circles into your clit. You need to relax for him.

His cock probes at your entrance, carefully pushing into your gooey hole. Still so cautious of your comfortability despite the ravenous need clawing at his insides. After a bit of coaxing, he’s able to push the tip of his cock inside. Your chest seizes and your cunt clamps down against the feeling, the stretch painful enough to have you shocked but not enough to have you in legitimate pain.

Choso just about passes out, your pussy so tight around him that it takes him off guard, even more so when your hole flutters around him. He reaches out for your hand and laces your fingers together, his breaths heavy and sputtered as he tries to collect himself enough to talk you through it.

“Gotta relax,” he huffs at you, dick jerking at the pretty look on your face, “I’m gonna take my time, gonna be so careful with you, so just calm down.”

“Oh– Okay,” you can do that, you can calm down.

Choosing to focus on something else, on how his hand holds yours, on his voice soothing you. Trying hard to even your breathing, partway succeeding, enough so that you’re relaxing again. Something Choso is infinitely grateful for because he felt like he could cum from the tight grip of your cunt and the cute look of your pinched brows alone. He’s so patient with you, waiting until you tell him it’s okay before even thinking of moving again.

Voice still shaky when you tell him, “Y–You can move, Choso.”

He grunts at you, an acknowledgement that he’s heard you. Hips slow as he sinks in more, breath catching at how you react to him. Thumb back on your clit to help you take him more, only getting about halfway before your free hand is pushing back on his chest. Immediately he stops, not wanting to push you past your limits. Your hand is gripping his tight, it makes his heart tug, his hand squeezing back at yours.

“You’re doing s–so– hah– good,” he coos at you.

Aiming to help but his voice is breaking and needy and the only thing it does is make your pussy flutter around his achingly hard dick. His eyes nearly rolling into the back of his head at the feel of your slick walls.

Glancing down, you worry, “I don’t th– think I’m gonna be able to take it all.”

You sound so concerned about not fully taking him and he can’t help but chuckle breathlessly at it, “That’s okay, this much is enough.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he pulls your hand to his mouth and kisses your knuckles, “You okay if I move?”

Nodding at him, “Yeah, you can move.”

Drawing his hips back, he hisses through his teeth, brows scrunched as he focuses on his movements. Careful as he starts a pace he thinks you’ll be able to handle, fucking you on half of his cock. Even this much has his head spinning, addicted to the feel of your plush cunt sucking him in. Relishing in the sound of your rapid heartbeat and stifled whimpers, your hand unravels from his to grip the sheets. He takes the chance to hold you open, more control over his pace this way.

Incoherent whines tumble from your lips, words not even close to comprehensible. Desperate need resting inside your chest suddenly, you want all of him, you want to feel stuffed to the brim. Trying to convey it is hard, especially when just half his dick has your brain scrambled and fuzzy.

“C–Cho– more,” stumbled and huffed but clear enough, “Please.”

He hesitates, “I don’t think–”

“–Please~” you whine out to him, plead stretching long with your gasped moans.

He can’t help but cave when he looks at you and sees your cute expression, unshed tears sitting pretty on your lashes. Giving you what you want and fucking into you, stuffing more of his cock inside your tight hole each time he thrusts in. He feels like this might be as close to heaven as he’s ever going to get, opening you up on his fat dick while you tremble under him.  

Choso’s beginning to feel like a mess with how you’re squeezing him, so tight his balls ache. Your staggered breath and absent gaze driving him crazy. Skin glowing with a sheen of perspiration while your eyes roll. His cock hitting so deep inside you your breath hitches when he’s finally balls deep, you could almost could swear he’s in your ribcage.  

Your toes curl and your head lolls back, drooling at how it feels to be this fucking full, your mind truly slipping through your fingers and he hasn’t even begun fucking you proper yet. Before he moves he grips your hips, fingers digging into the fat there, enjoying how soft you are. Drawing back cautiously to make sure he doesn’t do anything to hurt you and upon realising you’re basically already fucked dumb finds himself thrusting back inside you. The force of it rocking you, fingers gripping the sheets tight as you moan pathetically.

Setting a rabid pace, he finally lets himself fuck into you how he craves. Hands gripping your skin while he stuffs your sensitive pussy, your lips bulging around his thick length, struggling to take him. Beyond turned on with how good it feels, obscene and wet slapping resounding from the room, along with the pitiful sounds you manage to let slip.

Beginning to feel like he’s fucking you to borderline insanity, his or yours he can’t ascertain, all he knows is that he’s obsessed with the slick heat of your cunt. Effectively pussy drunk and if he thought he wasn’t leaving your side before he sure as hell isn’t now, not willing to give up something as sweet as you. It’s funny how you’ve basically pussy whipped him without even trying or knowing.

“Feel s–so– fuck– feel so good,” he gasps at you, needing you to know just how perfect you are.

His hands move from your hips to anywhere else he can grab, handsy as he gropes at you, wanting to touch you everywhere he possibly can. Eventually landing on wrapping around you and pulling you up, the position having you sinking down on his cock more. Sputtered moans leaving you at the sudden change, arms looping around his neck and scrabbling at his back, nails no doubt leaving marks.

Chest to chest, skin contact that has a shiver running down your spine pleasantly. You wish you could tell him how good he’s making you feel, how close you’re getting, how fuzzy your brain feels but the words won’t come. Instead settling for whimpering into his shoulder, drooling on him slightly.

His hands travel lower and grab at your thighs wrapped around him, pulling you further open and using his grip to use you like a sex toy. Fucking you so deliciously and easily that you feel like the room is spinning. Your mouth latches onto his neck, leaving behind dark marks, something for your mouth to do beside crying out his name uselessly. Not that he particularly minded, enjoying immensely how wrecked you sounded as you cried out for him.

He notices the way your breath catches and nails dig into him more, getting close to cumming. Something he wants desperately, his thrusts more forceful, excited at the thought of you gripping him sinfully tight.

“You been doing so good,” he breathes, “Just let go for me.”

The words spoken against your ear sends a tingle through your body, muscles pulling tight like you’re getting ready for impact. Your whimpers pitchy as you twitch in his grasp, your nails nearly making him bleed. You’re cumming around him so perfectly, falling apart in his hands, squirming and hips jumping. Cunt so fucking tight he swears he’s gone to heaven, his eyes rolling back in his head as he moans shamelessly. His teeth bite into your neck, lathing over the wound quickly healing any blood he might’ve drawn with the action.

Hips jerking up into you as he fucks you through it, your orgasm ultimately triggering his. Shuddering as he cums inside you, filling you to the brim with it. His blood boiling as he continues to fuck you through his high, all too happy to let it leak out of you.

His unstopping thrusts pushing more of your combined mess out around his dick with lewd squelching noises. Sheets all sticky, evidence of how messily he’d fucked you. When you mumble at him he stops thrusting into you, somewhat begrudgingly, all too willing to force you and him into overstimulation.

Instead of pulling out and placing you down, he stays seated inside you and lays on his back. Leaving you laying on top of him, his arms around you again, embracing you. You’d snuggle into him more but you’re still not sure you’re in your body, limbs all so heavy.

“I’m sorry if I was too rough,” he sounds sheepish when he speaks into the top of your head.

You hum at him in disagreement, “Was good.”

Pressing a kiss to your temple, he asks, “Want to get cleaned up?”

“You’re gonna have to give me a bit, I don’t think I can move yet…” your eyes feel tired, “…Or today.” It feels like he grows warmer at your comment and you smile lazily.

Maybe he should feel more concerned over how fond of you he’s grown but as you drift off on top of him, snoozing so peacefully, he really can’t find it in himself to care.

𝐀/𝐍: i put my whole visussy into this fic ngl and i had so much more i wanted to add/do to it but it quite literally sucked motivation away from my soul. if you guys have questions about the story though you're more than welcome to ask ! i literally had SO many notes for this fic and while i don't think it's the best thing i've written i am obscenely happy to have finished it and i hope you guys like it !!! thanks for reading <333

[⚠︎] — 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: do not reupload / repost / translate / plagiarise my works © all works are the intellectual property of lovelivision ★ ⁝ my works are not to be used for AI under any circumstances

[inkskinned]

it is the first snow today. i think we should all have off work, even though it didn't stick. i think there should be 4 national holidays, one for each season. happy first snow, go home and make cookies. for spring it can be the first crocus. for summer the first lightning bug. for autumn, the first golden leaf. go home, kiss your dog, feed your cat (who is absolutely already-fed but somehow still starving.)

i think we should all take more showers together, but i mean that in the soft way. i mean it like taking a nap. two years ago i had 5 adult friends in my queen bed, all of us laying across each other, head over belly over thigh over hand. any time one of us would giggle, it would ripple over each of us, like pulling on a spiderweb. kim actually needed to nap and didn't get to sleep and i am still sorry for it even though this is one of my most precious memories.

i think we should all wash each other's hair, i mean. i walk my dog and i watch someone put up twinkle lights around their front porch. alex and i just moved, and i love the neighborhood. already so many of our new neighbors have stopped by to say hello. the nice lady downstairs also collects plants, like me. she gave us her number on a pink post-it note. i am trying to decide whether to make her cookies or brownies.

i am going through a very hard time. something bad happened this weekend that i do not wish to discuss. it is hanging over me. i think of the green ribbon, and the woman who had her throat cut. it feels like that sometimes, inside of my body. like i am walking and talking despite being half-corpsed. like i am hanging on by a ribbon, standing on some kind of cusp. i keep saying - at least it wasn't worse. we are so lucky it wasn't worse. the idea is river-rock smooth now, all the edges worried off.

in this very dark night - the sun sets by 3 now - people don't need to, but they try anyway. they paint the missing light into things. i have an embarrassing number of missed calls and texts, but i feel the love from them nevertheless - hey. if you need something, i'm here. i will bring you food/puzzles/anything. i got you.

i think we should all have a big group chat where we do errands with strangers. this week i got lost in a home depot, which is wild because i'm a lesbian and we are actually hatched in a lowe's lumber section. there were two other women in the whole store. we ended up shopping together, at first by accident (we all needed things in the same aisle), and then because, well, why not. one of the ladies was taller than me, so she pulled down the screws i needed. i am agile and have the personality of a raccoon, so they sent me after anything below 3 feet. we talked about holiday plans and never learned each other's names, but did learn all the drama about each other's families.

i am making you cupcakes, because i have so much affection i want to pour it into batter. you ask me if i am eating enough per meal. i wrap your gift twice, trying to do it prettily. i get excited to give it to you, just because i hope you'll be excited too.

my parents drive an hour just to see the new apartment and to do the parent thing; standing in the kitchen saying things like "oh you'll get so much use from this dishwasher" and "well, you could paint that" and "when your mother and i moved it was uphill both ways and in a snowstorm and of course your brother was an infant." my mother brought me a plant for housewarming. i always say i love you before she leaves.

i play dnd on tuesdays still, after all these years. we all keep that night free. at one point, between grad school and marriage and all of it, we had to have a serious discussion about how to keep it running. we will keep going, we decided eventually. just to see each other, even if we don't play - you are all important to me. sebastian is not prone to affection but last night he stole my usual sign off - i love you all, be good, he said. he was laughing.

i don't love the winter, actually. i like snow in theory, but i grew up in the north, and am too-familiar with the season of "mud and sludge". i don't like being cold. but i do love something kind of soft and rare: every year around this time, people remember oh yes. you and i are human together. and i have love to spare.

it is the first snow, and something in my heart is finally warm again. i have spent what felt like the last 18 months just going-through-the-motions. it has felt blank and immediate, like i would never actually feel again. that sounds extremely trite and stupid - but that is the boring and familiar experience of depression. life just washes up against your windows, and you watch it happening. you see things that should be lovely and affecting, and it just whispers too-thin. i was desperately uncreative. uninterested in my hobbies. unimpressed by my writing. i told my therapist, often, i don't know how to find hope again.

almost sheepishly, something strange and lovely is burning in my chest. i keep not-looking at it, worried it will scamper back into the shadows again. it is skittish and wild, but it is so warm i want to sink my hands into its fur and feel it breathing. i love-hate it: if it's real, it can hurt me when it leaves again. but i am icarus-born, sun-lover and poet: i can't help myself. despite my best intentions, i am falling in love with life again.

i am planning to make cookies for my friends. alex and i are going to go christmas tree shopping. we picked out matching dish towels last night, and they have little mushrooms on them.

i love you. it does come back. yes, even after a long time. even for you. i promise. keep trying. you will wake up and it will be a day you can smile about.

write me when you get there. we will take the day off of work, and i will wash your hair, and we will both be laughing.

[eternal-evergreens]

｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧JJK Men as Yanderes ｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧

Post Format: Headcanons

Featuring: Gender-Neutral Reader, Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, Toji Fushiguro, Ryomen Sukuna, Mahito, Choso Kamo

Word count: Each piece is roughly 750 words

Warnings: implied sabotage (Gojo, Toji, Choso), invasion of privacy (Gojo), kidnapping (Gojo, Sukuna), murder (Geto), kidnapping mention (Nanami, Toji), suicidal ideation (Nanami), light gore (Gojo, Sukuna, Mahito), reader injury (Sukuna), threats of bodily harm/mutilation (Mahito), sexual assault (Mahito), implied murder (Choso)

Satoru Gojo

You're nothing special. Not compared to him, at least. With no long line of sorcery or blue blood running through your veins, your family is just about as average as it gets.

You're nothing special---not to Jujutsu society, anyway. But who gives a shit about that? To Satoru, you're more than special.

You're everything.

He's always been the strongest, and yet, when he's with you, he just feels so weak.

Like a schoolgirl fawning over her latest crush, Satoru often finds himself checking his phone while away on missions, hoping to see your name appear on his screen. It doesn't have to be anything special—even a picture of some ugly animal with the caption "That's u, lol." is enough to get him going. Just knowing you were thinking of him at all, even in an unflattering light, makes him feel lightheaded in a way not even battle can emulate.

It's weird. It's embarrassing.

But he can't get enough.

Satoru wants you more than he's ever wanted anything, and he wants you to feel the same way. He'd do anything if it meant winning your heart.

If you asked him to kneel, he'd kneel. If you asked him to beg, he'd beg. If you asked him to rip out a man's heart and present it to you, he'd ask if he should do so on a silver or gold platter.

If you asked him to let you go, however...

You sigh and fall back onto the couch. It'd been a week since your landlord mysteriously kicked you out, and Satoru took you in with a frankly suspicious eagerness. To say that he was an overbearing roommate was to put it lightly.

He'd follow you around the flat from room to room, enter your bedroom without knocking, and once, you even caught him sifting through your laundry. He wasn't even embarrassed about getting caught, let alone the fact that he had done it in the first place.

You decided to start searching for a new roommate after that.

"Y'know," Satoru says, slinging his arms around your shoulders---you hadn't even heard him approach. You quickly close your computer, which happens to have very clearly been showcasing cheap apartments in the area. "I could have just taken ya'. Snatched you up off the street like some kidnapper."

"What...?"

"---But I decided to play nice instead. I thought we could forge a real relationship that way. But you've just been pushing me away. I'm starting to think I've been too lenient with ya'. Like maybe I should have just locked you up instead."

"That isn't funny, Satoru."

"Who said I was joking?" You open your mouth to respond, but Satoru cuts you off before you get the chance. "You want dinner? I can order us takeout. Anywhere you'd like."

Drop it, his eyes say. You do.

That very night, you pack a bag and head to the nearest hotel. In the morning, you'll ask your job if they can transfer you to another city. For tonight, you'd like to just get a good night's rest without the lingering fear of waking up to his figure looming over you.

You wake up to familiar surroundings. It doesn't register as strange until you remember checking into a hotel the night prior. You shoot up to get a better look around. Sure enough, you're in your own bedroom, not the hotel's.

But how...?

You're sure you left last night. Did you dream it? You go to check your phone, but it's not there.

Just then, the door opens. "Oh, you're up," your roommate says.

"Satoru, what's---"

"I called you in sick for work today," he says casually, "and tomorrow. Actually, starting today, you're unemployed."

"What?!"

"Don't worry. I can take care of us. I've got more than enough money."

Satoru wants you more than he's ever wanted anything, and he wants you to feel the same way. He'd do anything if it meant winning your heart.

If you asked him to kneel...If you asked him to beg...

If you asked him to let you go, however...

"C'mon, baby, you know I can't do that," he'd say, arms around your waist and head in your lap. "Ask me for something else, anything. Just not that. Do you want a pony? We can get a pony."

"No---"

"What about a cat? Or maybe you prefer dogs? I could get a purebred if you wanted one. I know it gets lonely being in the house all by yourself."

"I want to go outside, Satoru."

"We could get a fish tank, I guess. Though I doubt they'd make good company."

"Listen to me---"

"Actually, maybe that's for the best. Wouldn't want to compete for my lover's attention in my very own home, you know?"

Suguru Geto

When he was at his lowest, Suguru thought of you. It kept him going. It kept him sane.

So, of course, you were the first person he asked to join him in the creation of the new world. His world.

"Our world," he said, the look on his face desperate, pleading.

You declined, of course. His ideals went against everything you stood for as a Jujutsu sorcerer. As a person.

He took it well---or seemed to, at least. He flashed you a plastered-on smile and released your hands from his, leaving you with no further fuss.

For a while, that seemed to be the end of it.

Life went on. Though you would occasionally catch wind of his nefarious deeds, dealing with such things never fell within your purview. In fact, it almost seemed as if the higher-ups were purposefully keeping you from any cases that involved him.

You had all but forgotten about that fateful evening when a call from the higher-ups had you booking a flight to Okayama.

Apparently, there had been a sudden influx of cursed spirits in the region. And as the lead researcher in cursed phenomena, you were called to the scene.

You had already been given a file outlining the happenings, but out of courtesy, Yumi, the assistant supervisor assigned to the case alongside you, filled you in regardless.

"It's not that there's a higher rate of cursed spirits being born in this area," she said. "They're migrating here."

"Hmm," you look over the map on your tablet again; colour-coded dots mark the locations and grades of each (presumed) non-native sighting. The spacings are far from natural. They seem to have been made with intent, almost as if forming a pattern of some kind.

"We've set up a barrier to track the arrival of new cursed spirits. Nearly every curse from fourth to semi-first grade in the neighbouring towns has been coming here. Some of our windows have even spotted them moving together in groups."

"Was there anything strange about their behaviour? Like moving in single-file lines, with strange movements, or perhaps even speaking?" Yumi lights up.

"Yes, actually! They were all---"

Your screen flashes, suddenly restarting the tablet without your input.

"Huh...?"

"[Last]-San..." Your supervisor almost whispers. You tear your eyes from your screen to hers as she weakly holds up her tablet to you.

Over four hundred cursed spirits have been spotted crossing the Okayama border within the past fifteen minutes.

Your tablet finishes restarting, and you scramble to view the map again, hoping what you just saw was nothing more than a glitch.

The loading screen seems to take ages to complete, but when it does, the map shows exactly what you feared.

Oh. You get it now.

The pattern it was trying to spell out. It's "愛"

---"Love".

You hear a scream.

"Ah, it's good to see you again. How long has it been now?" A voice---one you're all too familiar with---says. "Two, no, maybe three years?" Suguru is wiping blood off of his hands. You don't want to look down. You can't look down.

Yumi is dead.

You looked down.

"I'm not sure why I phrased that like a question I didn't know the answer to," he says, smiling in a way that makes your heart ache. "I've been keeping track down to the days, you see."

"Were you...behind this?" You've never been one for combat. You can't use reverse cursed technique to save Yumi. You can't fight to save the others. There's nothing you can do.

You've never felt so helpless.

"I did," he admits casually. "I recently got my hands on a new curse. First-grade 'Pied Piper', its technique creates a sort of call-and-response between itself and other curses of a lower grade through a musical frequency only other curses can perceive. With that technique, I can manipulate the movements of curses I haven't yet acquired without leaving my residuals behind."

"But if it's coming from the technique of a curse you possess, your residuals would still be left behind," you counter.

"Ah, as quick on the uptake as always, [First]," he praises. "You're right, or you would be if this curse were under the control of my curse spirit manipulation. No, this curse was tamed, not subjugated."

"Why are you telling me this?"

He's going to kill you once he's finished explaining.

"I've always appreciated an inquisitive mind," he says. "especially when it's your inquisitive mind." Your mouth forms a vague 'O' shape as the realisation dawns on you.

"愛"

"Love"

...You're never getting away.

Kento Nanami

Nanami is someone who has never really been all that content with life.

Sorcery sucks. Corporate sucks. Japan sucks.

Sometimes, on his darkest days, Nanami thinks about what would have happened if he had joined Haibara—or better yet, if he had never even been born in the first place. If the world is this awful, wouldn't it be better to have never experienced it at all?

But then he met you, and suddenly, the world didn't seem all that bad.

Don't get him wrong, it's not like your presence suddenly made all the wrongs in the world right, but it did make him feel like they all mattered just a little bit less. Like maybe all this suffering was worth it, if it also meant he could see you smile.

So, of course, he'd do anything to keep you safe. To protect that smile.

The easiest way to ensure that, of course, would be to clip your wings. To lock you away somewhere where only he could reach you. A songbird that only sings for him, a dove in a birdcage.

He'd treat you like royalty, of course. His job pays well, but he's a somewhat frugal person by nature, so he has plenty of savings lying around. Whatever you wanted, he'd get you.

As long as you stayed safe, he couldn't ask for anything more. Even if you didn't love him, as long as your smile could be protected, that would be enough.

He's in the middle of researching what kind of restraints would cause the least damage and irritation to your skin when he realises what a grave mistake he was about to make.

'If the world is this awful, wouldn't it be better to have never experienced it at all?'

What if...

What if you started feeling that way, too?

What if, in trying to protect your smile, he ends up being the one to take it away?

He could offer you all the material things in the world, but if it comes at the price of your freedom, it might still not make you happy. After all, it was the same for him.

If money didn't make him happy, why would you be different?

Sorcery sucks. Corporate sucks. Japan sucks.

Nanami is worse.

He doesn't deserve you. It's with this thought in mind that he begins to avoid you. He refuses to meet your gaze, leaves the room when you enter, and declines all missions that involve your presence.

He feels like he's going crazy. Separation has made him sloppy and reckless. He comes home with more injuries, and a part of him thinks he deserves it.

Bags begin to form under his eyes as two weeks go by without the haven of your presence. He sees you everywhere now. The girl across the street is dressed in a substyle you like. The model in that magazine has your eyes. The cafe down the block is having a special on your coffee order.

"Nanamin, why're you avoiding [Last] all of a sudden? They do something to you?" Nanami scoffs at the remark but doesn't answer. He turns to leave but stops when Gojo continues. "Y'know, they actually came cryin' to me about it. Said they had no idea why you suddenly started treatin' 'em like they've got the plague." Nanami turns to look at Gojo, who's fiddling with his blindfold. "You should make up with them soon. Can't leave our cute little assistant supervisor feeling so down, you know?"

Nanami hates to admit it, but Gojo might be right.

'What if, in trying to protect your smile, he ends up being the one to take it away?'

Fuck. He can't do anything right.

He really doesn't deserve you, but what can he do? If he leaves, you won't smile anymore, but if he stays, you'll be smiling at a monster.

But what can he do? He'd do anything to protect that smile.

Even if it means hiding his fangs.

Toji Fushiguro

Toji is a man who takes what he wants and doesn't care if he has to get his hands dirty in order to take it.

Naturally, this applies to you as well.

It's strange, he's never wanted someone as badly as he wants you. Not his past flings, not even his late wife.

Toji is no stranger to romance. He was married, after all. He knows love. It's a familiar feeling.

That's why he's inclined to believe that what he feels for you isn't love. No, what he feels for you is far too primal to be love. It's rough and all-consuming. It's nothing like the soothing feeling he had around his wife.

Love wraps around one's heart like a warm blanket. This wraps around his heart like a python.

But if it's not love, what is it?

Actually, scratch that. It doesn't matter.

Whatever it is, it's some form of desire. And if he desires something, then all he has to do is take it.

Yes, it's better to keep these kinds of things simple rather than getting tied up in technicalities.

There is a problem, however. He'd like nothing more than to just lock you up and keep you for himself, but with his somewhat unstable income and his habit of bouncing around from place to place, that isn't exactly feasible.

Ah, what to do...?

He could settle down or stop spending his money as soon as he earns it, but where's the fun in that?

No, rather than try to adapt to your lifestyle, he'd much rather force you to adapt to his. Still, he supposes some sacrifices will be necessary, as his lifestyle is currently only fit for one.

You'll have to quit your job since you'll be moving around from place to place alongside him, but he'll just take on some more jobs to cover the extra cost; it's no big deal.

He proposes the idea to you so matter-of-factly that it's almost as if he believes you to have already agreed to the plan beforehand. In reality, this is your first time hearing of such a thing, and you're so stunned that you momentarily lose your voice.

You've known this man for two, no, maybe three weeks, and yet he's asking you to drop everything and come overseas with him? You're not even friends! He's just a regular at the cafe you're employed with.

It dawns on you that he must be joking, so you chuckle awkwardly and avert your gaze. Perhaps you simply haven't known him long enough to gauge his sense of humour. You feel a little embarrassed for nearly having taken him so seriously.

Then, he shows you the plane tickets.

Bewildered, you end up being more blunt than you perhaps meant to: "I'm not going," you say, pushing his tickets back to him.

"Sweetheart," he says dryly. "I'm not asking." You shoot him a strained, confused smile, which quickly morphs into a more genuine one as the door chimes.

To think you'd ever be happy to serve a customer. It's a foreign sentiment, but if it means an end to this strange interaction, you'd happily serve a hundred---no, maybe even a thousand customers.

You take their order and get to making their drink, shooting quick glances at the man---Toji, you think---from behind the bar.

He hasn't taken his eyes off of you.

It's days like this that you wish the company wasn't so stingy about hiring more than one person for shifts. You're about to clock out, and if that man is going to stay until closing, you'd really like to have a coworker walk you back to your car.

It's twenty minutes until closing when Toji finally leaves. You let out an unconscious sigh of relief, feeling your shoulders relax. That was weird, but you shouldn't have to see him again, right? He's going overseas tomorrow, after all.

Yeah, you won't see him again. Thank goodness.

It's with that thought in mind that you flip the "We're open!" sign to its side and lock the doors. It's only 6 PM, but the fall season means it's already dark. You shiver from a cool breeze as you make your way towards your car at last.

Huh. Flat tire.

Ryomen Sukuna

Those who know of Sukuna will inevitably feel sorry for anyone who happens to catch his gaze. Sorcerer or not, none will ever possess even a fraction of the strength he carries, and for someone like Sukuna, that means you're no better than a bug to be trampled on.

What a poor, pitiful thing you are. You must be treated more like a pet than a person. A plaything for him to toy with, to discard once you've ceased to entertain.

However, this interpretation couldn't be more wrong.

What others fail to realise is that Sukuna would never waste his time on someone he doesn't consider his equal. Weak as you may be, there's something about you that seems different in his eyes.

Like a precious gem left unpolished, there's a certain allure to you that only a trained eye could see, and he'll be damned if he lets anyone else stake a claim on you first.

No, he'll be the one to bring out your true potential.

Sukuna has never met someone worthy of being his companion. This has never bothered him, however. Loneliness was not something he was familiar with. There are those who have tried, of course, to prove their worth, to stand by his side, but none have ever moved him.

None until you, that is.

The funny thing is that you don't even try to win his attention. You never once asked for his gaze to land upon you. And yet, he can't bring himself to look away.

Sukuna doesn't know what to do with you. You make him feel things he's never felt before.

Is this weakness? Is it love?

Is there a difference between the two at all?

Should he kill you? Should he keep you?

What can he do to make these feelings go away? What can he do to ensure they never go away?

In exchange for not pillaging your homeland, the townspeople offer you up as a sacrifice. It was Uraume's idea.

At midnight, you're dragged out of the comfort of your home and tied to a stake, where you stay for hours. By dawn, you've worn yourself out with struggle, dried blood sticking to your hands and the ropes around your wrists, when a white-haired stranger comes to collect you.

The stranger undoes your bindings, but only the ones keeping you bound to the pole. You're dragged along like a dog on a leash for countless hours until you eventually arrive at the largest estate you've ever seen in your life. It's midday when you're untied and allowed to bathe. The warm water releases all the tension from your aching muscles, and as you bathe, the white-haired fellow replaces the garments you arrived in with robes made of fine silk.

The stranger's name is Uraume, they tell you. They'll be taking care of you until their master is ready to meet with you.

"What happens after that?" you ask tentatively.

Uruame flashes you a smile that refuses to answer.

Before you know it, a full week has passed you by. You're still yet to see this so-called master, but Uraume tells you not to worry. After all, the master has already seen you lots of times, they say.

The thought of being watched in secret sends a shiver down your spine.

Though the prison is large, you're confined to only one wing of the estate, and after a week of having nothing to do but wander, you have the entire layout memorized. Bored and unattended, you decide to venture out into the unknown past the garden's gates. There, you come face-to-face with the largest man you've ever laid eyes upon.

A hulking figure with four arms and fiery pink hair turns to you, and in an instant, you fall to the ground, only vaguely aware of the blood pooling around you and the pain across your chest.

In truth, Sukuna had tried to kill you, but his technique missed your vitals. It takes him a moment of watching your blood ooze out of the open wound to realize he did it on purpose. Before he even realizes it, he's picked you up in his lower arms and applied reverse cursed technique to your injury. You've lost consciousness, and your pulse is weak, but you aren't dead. Relief floods through Sukuna's veins as he listens to your soft breathing.

From that day on, you're never to leave his side unless absolutely necessary. From that day on, Sukuna has someone worthy of standing by his side, not as a servant, nor a pet, but as a companion. From that day on, Sukuna has a lover.

Whether you like it or not.

Mahito

As a curse born from the hatred and fear humans feel towards their own kind, Mahito relishes humanity's anguish and despair. He kills without a second thought, not caring who he hurts or who gets swept up into his path of mass destruction.

So why is it that this particular human sways him so? Why is it that he thinks your soul looks pretty, just the way it is? Why does he want to touch you but not to warp you beyond repair?

Why does he want you to look at him? Why does he want to scoop your eyes out of your sockets so that you can never look away?

To be a curse is to always follow your own desires, no matter how contradictory or inconsistent---that's the motto that Mahito lives by.

So, of course, this philosophy applies to you as well.

It doesn't make sense, and he doesn't understand it. But that doesn't matter to him. Why would it? He's a curse, and curses take what they want. What he wants is you, so, of course, he has to take you, too.

Mahito doesn't spend long watching you before he makes his move. First, he has to check if you can even see curses to begin with. If you can, that'll make things easier. But if you can't...well, that'll be fun too.

He bumps into you at the train station around 2 AM. It was a late night at work, and you're now dead on your feet. There's no one around, so it's the perfect time for him to test you. He taps your shoulder with a smile.

If you don't react, he starts feeling you up, talking aloud about how much he wants you as his hands roam your body.

"Mm, you're so weak," he says, palm on your stomach. "Look at you, all unguarded. If I wanted to, I could take your soul and just—" he squeezes the flesh on your abdomen. "—until you go splat! Hmm, but I don't really want to do that. I wonder why?" His hand trails down to your hips, brushing past—but not quite landing on—your private areas.

"It's weird, isn't it? You can't even see me. You don't even know I exist. But I know you exist." He grabs your hand, interlocking your fingers together. "Humans usually wear rings when they're married, right? I wonder why you don't have one? You're such a catch," he giggles. "Ah, well, I guess it's better for me. Less work, y'know?Though, I would have liked to see the look on your face, coming home to dear, sweet hubby, all mangled up in your living room. I wouldn't even bother transfiguring him. No, I'd want you to see his face clearly, all contorted in pain with his guts splayed out all over the floor."

He follows you home. You still can't see him, but you at least seem a little aware of his presence, with the way you keep glancing over your shoulder, randomly picking up the pace and taking more turns than necessary.

How fascinating! You can't see him, and yet you can sense him? He's swooning already.

"Don't worry, [First]," he says, arms around your shoulders as you fumble with your keys. "You'll be able to see me soon. And after that, you're never getting rid of me."

If you do react, however, he holds himself back, opting to strike up a lighthearted conversation with you instead.

"What's a pretty thing like you doing here all alone?" He asks. "Don't you know the subway is dangerous at night?" You visibly bristle, clearly on guard. He grins.

"Do you need something?" You ask, clutching your bag to your chest and stepping back. His grin widens, easily closing the distance you've just created.

"You're lonely, aren't you? All you do is work; you don't even have any friends! It's kind of pathetic, really. That's okay, though, I like you anyway. I might be the only one."

"What do you---"

"I could help you, you know. Ease your loneliness, maybe?" He's touching you now. Nothing outright inappropriate, but you could smell his intentions from a mile away.

"No thanks," you say. The train stops, and you hurry off the platform. Fortunately, the stranger doesn't get off with you. He waves at you as the doors close, and you run all the way home.

Finally feeling safe, you don't bother to do anything more than kick off your shoes before collapsing on your bed. It creaks under your weight, then creaks again. You freeze, your eyes shooting open.

"Heya," the stranger says. "Fancy seeing you again."

Choso Kamo

If you were to describe him in one word, 'inexperienced' may be your best bet.

Though it's true that he has 'lived' for over one hundred and fifty years, he spent most of that time as a cursed womb, unable to truly experience the outside world for himself. Even after being incarnated and absorbing the memories of his host, Choso finds himself unable to relate to any of his body's experiences. He knows what love is and what lovers do, but only from a technical standpoint. To actually experience it is something he's never even dreamed of doing.

So, of course, when he starts feeling these things for you, he's unable to properly put a label on them. At first, he thinks he's sick, which isn't unreasonable, considering his rather long list of symptoms (fever, shakes, sweats, heart palpitations, and clouded mind, he notes dutifully).

However, that idea is quickly shut down. Being a cursed womb death painting, it's highly unlikely that he even can get sick; plus, his symptoms only seem to surface when you're around (or when he's thinking of you, which, admittedly, is often).

Did you curse him? No, you don't have a technique like that.

Then, what...?

It takes him a somewhat embarrassingly long time for him to realise the truth behind his feelings. It isn't until after he catches himself staring at your lips and thinking about how soft they'd feel against his that he concludes he likes you.

So, he's figured it out. Now what...?

Choso searches through his host's memories in an attempt to figure out how to woo you. Unfortunately for him, his host was a frat boy with commitment issues who knew more about one-night stands than how to build the foundations for an actual relationship.

So, Choso consults Yuki Tsukimo, who he, with his very limited circle of friends, considers to be an expert.

As expected, Yuki is ecstatic at the news that Choso has found his type. Immediately, she's giving an impromptu lecture on the ways of the heart.

"First, you have to figure out their type," she says, wagging a finger. "If it's a match, you're all good. If not, you either need to give up or double down."

Through Yuki's mentoring, Choso learned the general rules for signalling romantic interest. Flowers, chocolates, walks in the park, walks on the beach—a lot of walking in general, actually—candlelit dinner, pick-up lines—he's got it all memorized.

The problem is that his throat gets dry, and his knees lock up when he so much as thinks about talking to you.

So he takes to following you with his eyes instead.

"It's just until I gather the courage to talk to them," he tells himself. "I'll stop once I figure out their type."

Right, if he can't ask you about your interests, he'll just have to observe them instead.

So, he watches you. All the time. Eventually, he all but forgets about his previous plan of it being a temporary habit.

It's just so...addicting. Watching you go about your day like normal. Completely unaware of his presence in the shadows. 

He learns about your hobbies, your interests, what kind of shows you like, your favourite foods, whether you still keep stuffed animals in your room, and more. He has a mental folder of all your likes and dislikes. And while there are some things he’s not able to learn, some places he’s not able to follow, it’s enough. Just knowing this much is perfect. 

He doesn't do anything. He doesn't plan to, either. He’s content with just watching. It's comfortable like this. He doesn't want anything to change. So, he forgets about stopping, and instead sinks even deeper into his newfound obsession.

If he had it his way, things would stay like this forever. Him, never confessing, and you, never knowing. But, unfortunately, fate had other plans in mind.

It was 10:15 AM, and you were at a local coffee shop by yourself when the barista handed you their number with your receipt. You shyly accepted, and just a day later, the two of you had plans for a date the next week.

Unfortunately, your 'date' canceled last minute and blocked you with no explanation.

It's a good thing, then, that your good friend Choso just so happened to bump into you, lending you his shoulder to cry on.

Well, there's no reason to waste a good dinner reservation, right?

You never do go back to that cafe, but if you did, you'd find the barista missing from the register.

[sweetshuga]

𝑴𝒐𝒅𝒆𝒍 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒎𝒆 ✧ 𝑪.𝑺 [+𝟏𝟖]

ⓘ 𝑺𝑴𝑼𝑻! ⋆ cursing ⋆ bsf!chris ⋆ pet names ⋆ Chris gets hard and tries (but fails) to hide it ⋆ backshots ⋆ degradation kink ⋆ dirty talk ⋆ spanking ⋆ (slight) manhandling ⋆ rough sex ⋆ creampie + more.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒕... Your boyfriend broke up with you before you could show him the new lingerie you bought so Chris, your best friend, agreed to let you model for him.

You had just finished unpacking all the things you had bought from the intimate apparel shop you frequented. You were ecstatic to model the sexy pieces for your boyfriend of 2 months.

A smile plastered on your face when you saw your phone light up with a few notifications from your boyfriend, Jesse. You quickly took your phone from the nightstand and opened your messages to check what he had sent.

Your smile faltered almost immediately when you saw the messages. You could not believe your eyes.

"Hey, uh, I know we were supposed to meet up later today, but I don’t think this is working out. Let’s break up."

Did this guy just break up with you? Over text?

You groaned in annoyance as you threw your phone on your bed after replying with a simple "Okay". You plopped down beside your phone, face down and sprawled out. "And I had just bought new lingerie too… Asshole." You muttered into the bed, but before you could sulk any more, you suddenly sat upright, having remembered something.

"I can just model it for Chris, he’ll be fine with it… right?" You asked yourself, a hint of uncertainty creeping into your mind.

You weren’t sure if Chris would be up for it. It was something rather intimate, after all. "Only one way to find out." You mumbled to yourself as you took your phone from the bed beside you and clicked on Chris’ contact and pressed call, putting your phone up to your ear with bated breath as you waited for him to pick up.

On the third ring, a raspy voice picked up the call. "Hey, what’s up?" Chris mumbled, yawning afterwards — making it clear that he was woken up by your call. "Sorry if I woke you up, but um… Can I come over?" "Come over? Now? Why?" You looked at the digital clock on your nightstand beside your bed, seeing that it was in fact a bit late.

"It’s only 8 pm? Anyway, about the ‘why’ question... Jesse just broke up with me over text and I was gonna model some lingerie for him, but because of us breaking up I don’t have anyone to model it for-" "Fine, just shut up and come over." Chris interrupted you mid-sentence, not wanting to hear you ramble on about yet another breakup after just waking up.

You felt a sense of relief, hiding it with a scoff. "Changed your mind quickly huh? Whatever, I’ll be there in 10, don’t go back to sleep dumbass." You ended the call after hearing him chuckle and mumble a playful "yes ma’am."

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

You arrived at the triplets place, watching as Chris laid lazily on the couch, covered in a fluffy blanket. "At least you’re awake, but uh, where are Nick and Matt?" You asked, setting your bag – full of lingerie – down on the couch beside his head, making him look up at you.

"They’re out." Chris stated, ignoring your sarcastic comment. "Well, go on — model for me." He crossed his arms, still laying on the couch.

You rolled your eyes, mumbling about him being demanding as you rummaged through the bag and took out a light pink set — lacy, sheer lingerie. Chris’ eyes widened by a fraction as he took in the sheer fabric in your hands before you sauntered into the bathroom to change.

A few minutes went by and you emerged from the bathroom with the lingerie set on, your arms and hands covering the sheer parts. Chris had sat up while you were in the bathroom, his breath hitching softly when he took in your lingerie-clad body.

"Well, um, here’s this." You mumbled, suddenly feeling shy about how little the bra and underwear covered. "Um, that’s-that’s something." Chris stammered, silently trying to will his dick to behave as he adjusted his position, his eyes shamelessly tracing over your curves before snapping back up to your face.

"I’ll try the next one on." You quickly grabbed another pair and scurried off to the bathroom, but not before Chris caught a glimpse of your nipples through the sheer bra as you took your hands away from your chest to grab the next lingerie.

Damn, you were trying to kill him, weren’t you?

𓆩♡𓆪

You came out of the bathroom with a navy set on, modest and cute but also adorned with lace on the edges — adding a hint of allure. "Wow, this one’s really cute." Chris breathed out, trying to keep his voice steady and eyes on your face.

You hadn’t noticed it yet, but he was getting a full on hard-on just from you modelling the lingeries. His chest heaved slightly due to his breathing getting more and more ragged.

"Yeah? Right? I like this one the most." You grinned, feeling less shy as you took the next pair, a longer peach colored sheer top with matching sheer thong.

Damnit.

Chris was helpless as he watched you go back into the bathroom with the see through fabrics in hand, knowing he was probably going to get blue balls at this rate from the sexy shit you were modeling for him. He cursed under his breath and adjusted himself before you finished changing, making sure that the blanket covered his lower half well.

You came back into the living room with the set on, the flowy fabric of the top only making your body look mouth-watering, and the thong left little to the imagination.

Chris nearly groaned out loud at the sight, his dick twitching in his sweats before he quickly tried to remind himself that you were his best friend. Well, safe to say that his dick had other ideas — clearly.

"What do you think? I really like this one, it’s comfortable." You absentmindedly rubbed the soft fabric of the sheer top between your thumb and index finger, looking down at it.

"Yeah… it looks good — really good..." He mumbled, almost like he was in a trance as his eyes slowly raked over your body in an appraising way that you seemed to – surprisingly and naïvely – not have noticed yet.

𓆩♡𓆪

You were now standing a few feet away from Chris with the last pieces on, which was a three set lingerie. Red lace bra and underwear with a matching sheer robe that fell down just around mid-thigh.

Chris was sooo close to losing it.

He shifted in his seat and that’s when you finally noticed the tent on the blanket around his crotch area — you knew immediately what it was. A gasp fell from your lips, catching Chris off guard and making him look at you with a shameful look, probably having noticed from your expression and reaction that you’ve seen his boner.

"Are you…" You trailed off, not sure if you should say the word or not. Your eyes darted down to the bulge again before snapping back up to his face, watching as he slowly nodded his head. "I know-I know what you’re thinking and I know I’m not supposed to be reacting this way given our friendship… but I just can’t help it when you’re standing in front of me practically naked."

"So you’re blaming it all on me?" You huffed jokingly to see his reaction. Chris immediately shut himself up, his eyes widening as he realised how his words could be misinterpreted. "N-no, of course not!" He quickly denied, slowly standing up and towering over you.

"That’s not what I meant, c’mon… are you serious?" Chris groaned in annoyance, although his expression bordered on pleading. You burst out laughing, obviously amused at your own little stunt. "I’m just fucking with you, but seriously though, you’re hard just from me modeling those?" You questioned between giggles, gesturing vaguely at the pile of lingerie on the couch.

Chris sighed, his embarrassment eating him alive. "Fuck you." He mumbled, glaring down at your giggly figure, watching as your chest rose and fell, shaking slightly with your giggles. He swallowed thickly, feeling his dick throb with need.

He needed you so damn badly.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Your hands scrambled for purchase on the bed as Chris’ hips slammed against your ass with loud slaps, making your body jerk forward with each thrust.

Lewd, wet squelches could be heard from his cock ramming into your – absolutely wet – cunt over and over again.

"Haahh…" Chris breathed out, grunting as he fucked you into oblivion. "Can’t fuckin’ believe I hadn’t done this sooner, y’feel sooo good." He chuckled breathlessly, his hand coming down hard on your reddened ass before sinking his fingers in the supple flesh.

Your gummy walls squeezed his shaft when he slammed into your sweet spot and a loud moan of his name was muffled by him pushing your face into his pillow. "Here?" He slammed into that spot again, but with more precision this time, causing your body to jolt due to the sudden pleasure.

"Feels good huh?" He taunted, knowing you were too pleasure-drunk to think clearly. A smirk creeped onto his face as he kept your head firmly on the bed, arching your back sharply as he kept pounding into your sweet spot.

You were seeing stars.

"Fucking slut, and to think you said shit about me being like your older brother, ha!" He huffed out an amused laugh. "Best friends my ass, you can’t even stay coherent while being fucked by your best friend huh?" He mocked, his pace not faltering one bit.

His dirty words along with the taunts only made your mind blank with pleasure, your orgasm approaching terrifyingly quickly.

A few more brutal thrusts and you were cumming hard.

You cried out in pleasure and your inner walls milked his cock, fluttering rhythmically as your pussy tried to greedily pull him in deeper.

Your orgasm triggered his own.

The feeling of your pussy contracting around his length was too much for him and he came with a loud groan, burying his face in your hair as he bottomed out in you — his warm seed filling you deep inside. His hips jerked against your ass with each spurt of cum.

"Fuuuck, I might get addicted." Chris murmured into your hair.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆.ᐟ | 𝒘𝒄 – 𝟏.𝟔 𝒌 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 @nickgurl4life (sorry for taking so long TT)

[orcelito]

i had june bug out from about 7 pm to 1 am, & it went pretty well!!! Tally still doesn't like her, but she mostly kept to herself. I didn't have to break up any fights, & I know june bug appreciated being out for an extended period of time

i put her back in the bathroom for the night bc im still not 100% sure of keeping them out when I can't supervise, but if tomorrow goes well too then I may just leave june bug out overnight. We'll see.