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wosofutbolfan · 2 months

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When Somebody Loved Me (Everything Was Beautiful)

Alexia Putellas x Reader

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

Songfic

WC: 17k. Check TW inside.

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

Hi Guys.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was raining on the day that you met her.

That was strange. For Barcelona. The rain.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Maybe tomorrow niña. There is always tomorrow”.

Well. Turns out dads are clever.

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

“Putellas!! Get back here! Pute-...”

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

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

You didn't know what to do.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She was banned from playing.

The team lost.

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

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

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

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

Your Alex.

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

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

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

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

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

“Mi and y/f/n…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That was weird.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was perfect.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You didn’t care.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You have chosen to showcase your best landscapes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Weeks passed.

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

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

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

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

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

A ghost of the woman she was.

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

Finally, Word you were alive.

3 words in fact. “It’ll pass Alexia.”

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

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strwberri-milk · 23 days

Note

Hii!! I love your writing for LADS 🫶🏻🙈 may I request you write for Sylus talking to the most famous or beautiful woman of N109zone or of princess mafia in a exclusive event while the reader is watching them afar with her jealous energy? Then right after; the reader feels needy, possessive, wanted love and smutty 🔥, don't want to talk to Sylus, and it leads to miscommunication/don't get the wrong idea trope. You can add Luke and Kieran as cameo to make the situation worse telling the reader about Sylus and the girl's history together with a sense of humor that doesn't make the reader feel any better then Mephisto there CAW CAWLING over the fact seeing the reader turns red in frustration 😡😂 I really appreciate and love your work! Hope it be a little long word count (with bulletin points) if you write/accept this request! 🙏🏻

this is so booktok coded and you can interpret that however you wish bc i have Strong opinions about booktok and the current state of media literacy - but unfortunately i am a sucker for the trope and even if this isnt super duper smutty i do love a good jealousy plot - just as a heads up as I say w longer requests - i wont do everything and smut is harder for me to write so in interst of you not waiting months for a request we're gonna go a little off of what your reuquest was bc i also got confused reading it - which is why i always recc not to be too detailed bc then i get pigeon holed and focused on the wrong details :( - ive also combined these two requests bc theyre p similar to me!

You are fully aware that Sylus needs to work with a lot of people for his job. He's got powerful connections because of these events and you've never had a feeling that he was unfaithful. However, that doesn't mean that you can't help but feel insecure when you see how beautiful some of the people he works with are. You know that he loves you and he makes it very clear with his actions but the way he easily smooths things over with that dulcet tone of his.

You're resigned to having to spend the evening with Luke and Kieran - not exactly a punishment but also not the greatest as they give you the whole scoop on everyone Sylus talks to. The way their breaths catch and the quick darting of their masks to you lets you know that there's something else you're not being told but they refuse to let you in, citing respect for the boss' privacy. You know that you won't be able to get them to snitch on him at this rate, forced to watch as he continues to butter her up for whatever reason. You saw the way that others looked at her and for a moment you wondered if he was looking at her the same way, trying not to overthink things because you're also aware of how much he loves you.

You watch angrily as Sylus wraps his arm around her, whispering something into her ear that makes her laugh. The twins look at you and despite being unable to see their eyes you know they're just as confused as you are. They don't stop you when you get up to leave, deciding to follow you. They know his personality well and know that it seems a little out of character for him to be so forward during a meeting.

You decide to go back to his home, locking yourself in the bedroom as you deliberate on what to do. You know you could confront him if you really wanted you but part of you doesn't even want to do that - you feel like you'd be more content to see him grovelling and begging for you to forgive him but you also know he really isn't like that. So you decide to ignore him.

He comes home later that night, fully intending to explain himself but when he sees you fast asleep he simply decides to slide into bed with you. He holds you through the night, not knowing how upset you are with him. In the morning you're gone and he finds that he can't seem to reach you. You run around with your tasks for the day, barely saying hi to him in passing. He knows you're not that busy so it makes no sense to him.

He ends up having more meetings with the woman, much to your anger. After an especially long meeting he finds you standing outside of his office, an angry expression on your face that he just can't take seriously as he finds you adorable. He leans down to give you a kiss and you end up yelling at him about how you know he's giving her more than just his business.

You actually didn't know anything - just that he was far too friendly to her and you wanted to see what he would admit to. He immediately starts to set the record straight, telling you that there's no way you seriously believe he's looking at anyone that isn't you. You cross your arms stubbornly, telling him that isn't going to work on you.

It ends up not mattering when he picks you up to throw you onto his bed, covering you in kisses as he digs his nails into your hips. You can't escape his hold, bent this way and that way as he teases you for really thinking that he sees anybody that isn't you. He calls you possessive names, moving against you in ways that make you see stars over and over again.

Safe to say your new silent treatment to him is not because of you not wanting to speaking to him. Your voice is hoarse, body barely able to leave the silken sheets on your skin as he continues to dote over you with reminders that it'll always only be you.

#love and deepspace x reader #l&ds x reader #sylus x reader #l&ds sylus x reader #lnds sylus x reader #lads sylus x reader

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nana-au · 5 months

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Best Friends Forever!

Suguru Geto ♡

MDNI

₊˚ପ⊹ Summary: You’re Suguru’s bff and roommate. You know him like the back of your hand – and he knows you the same, if not better! Some people may think you two are too close, but they just don’t understand. When you have a date planned and need help picking out your outfit, Suguru’s your guy! ...What’s this? He doesn’t want you to leave?

₊˚ପ⊹ Warnings: minor mention of blood, mention of pet death, possessiveness, jealousy, nipple play, thigh riding, fingering, making you beg, overstimulation, unprotected sex

₊˚ପ⊹ an: kicking and screaming and crying and throwing up and scratching my face I NEED HIM.

₊˚ପ⊹ wc: 2.8k

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

BFF! Sugu who’s been by your side since before you can even remember! You grew up neighbors and when you both went off to college you got an apartment off campus together. It was only natural to be with Suguru. He was the only constant in your life – your anchor.

BFF! Sugu who is so protective of you. How could he not? You two experienced life’s firsts together. You were there when Suguru took a nasty spill off his bike. His tears were hot down his face as you stayed by his side. You used the water bottle you kept on your own bike to flush the blood off his knee, giving it a quick peck. “My mom always says a kiss makes everything better. Do you feel better Sugu?” He nods his head, wiping the snot off of his face with his t-shirt. He was there when you lost your first pet and even though you were preteens and everyone made you feel dumb being sad over a goldfish - Geto made it a point to hold a funeral in his backyard. He dug a small grave for it - picking out the perfect rock for you to write its name on to place on top of its resting place.

BFF! Sugu who makes sure you’re safe. He would never allow you to pump your own gas. He’s seen the type of guys who prowl around the gas station close to your home. He’ll make sure you get to sit pretty in the passenger seat while he fills up your car. Don’t worry about the price – he’ll take care of it. He always takes care of you.

BFF! Sugu who knows everything about you. He knows all your favorites. Favorite color, favorite season, favorite food, favorite tv show… there was nothing that you liked that he was not aware of. He knows about things you wouldn’t be caught dead telling anyone else – trusting only your best friend.

BFF! Sugu who is so so sooooo protective of you. Any guy he thought wasn’t the absolute best for you was quickly kicked to the curb. He’ll admit – sometimes the criteria was a little strict. The guy from your art class? His haircut was stupid. Shithead from your after school club? Believe him – he was a tool. Worst of all was the douche on your school’s baseball team. Suguru had quite the time getting you to see his point of view, but he didn’t dare say I told you so as you cried in his arms retelling the embarrassment of catching him cheating.

BFF! Sugu who learns to relax in college. You were a woman now – you no longer needed his constant guidance. He would genuinely smile as you talked about all the friends you were making in your major. How funny your coworkers at the concession stand job you worked every football game were. The fact you had a date with a friend of a friend – your girl friend had vouched for him. He was a good guy. Geto was glad you had people looking out for you. He couldn’t wait to meet him.

BFF! Sugu who helps you pick out the cute little outfits for your dates. You were so beautiful, that guy was truly lucky. But even his luck couldn’t match Suguru’s as you put on a little show for him – trying on every tantalizing option.

BFF! Sugu who loved watching you dress up so much he bought you more. You didn’t even need a date to have a fashion show! He just loved seeing that color on you. Oh! – And don’t even get him started on the skimpy little dresses with the ruffles. They were made for you. He couldn’t decide whether your plump butt or your squishy boobs looked better hugged by the fabric. He had to use his large hand to hide the bite he gave to his bottom lip when your cute little panties peaked through the bottom of a particularly short one. “Maybe that one is good for around the house,” he proposed.

BFF! Sugu who had to swallow his need when you begged him to rate your lingerie. “I didn’t realize you two were at that point in your relationship,” he would try to laugh off his distaste.

“I’ve told him no to sex for so long, I’ve been thinking maybe it's time…” you trailed off. You played with the hem of your dress as you stood in front of Suguru on the couch. He was sunk comfortably into the loveseat, legs spread wide and one of his muscled arms stretching across the back of the couch. The other on the arm rest. “Ok princess. Let’s see the options,” he spoke.

BFF! Sugu who couldn’t make it through the first set. The white lace left little to the imagination, a black bow adorned above your cute mound. “You trying to make me sweat?” A dark chuckle broke through his lips. “Sorry?” you asked him, not hearing him correctly. How silly you were to think that just because he was a friend that made him any less of a man. A hot blooded man at that – with eyes that glued to your nipples visible through the thin fabric. “The dresses were one thing, princess, but this? Don’t play dumb,” his dark eyes were now impossibly black. You were staring into the voids that indiscreetly roamed your body. It was entirely silly of you to now try and hide yourself from his hungry gaze.

BFF! Sugu who doesn’t let you leave. You were no match against his strong grip as he pulled you onto his lap. “You’re leavin’ me no choice,” he assured you, pushing you down hard against his thigh. You tried to push away but his hands on your waist locked you in. “No choice,” he reminded you. You swallowed thickly, realizing you were completely helpless as he began guiding your hips up and down his thigh. The rough material of your panties rubbing deliciously against your clit. “Sugu s-stop,” you begged him, all breathy and hot against his ear. “You want me to stop?” Of course! He was your best friend. You didn’t want him making you feel better than you ever thought possible by just rubbing your pussy against his leg. “But you look so cute like this,” he pouted at you, “Humping my thigh like a puppy. I’ll let go – but you better stop moving your hips,” he tutted at you. You didn’t have it in you to keep your eyes open to watch yourself continuously rut against him even after he removed his hands. It wasn’t your fault his muscled thigh felt more pleasurable than any toy you could ever buy.

Geto had plenty of girls at your school talking about their experiences with him. You spent your entire teen years hearing about his ‘magical tongue’ and ‘horse dick’. For the majority of your life you had little interest in getting to experience that part of your best friend – that was until the bastard from the baseball team. The absolute snore fest he put on for your first time was jarring. Maybe you were so used to hearing how life-changing Suguru’s hips were that you had high expectations...

No – you were not purposefully trying to get Geto to want you. He genuinely gave good advice when it came to what looked good on you. Ok so maybe you were pushing your luck with the lingerie – but Suguru was always so level-headed. It was scary how quickly he caved.

It was even more frightening listening to his taunts hot in your ear, “Why aren’t you stopping?” You couldn’t stop now – but you would. Just a little longer. You’d find the strength to stop soon. “Tell me you want me, or I’m stopping this,” he threatened and your form shook. “Please don’t,” you begged him. “Don’t what?” he lifted your chin, making you look at him “Don’t s-stop t-this,” you squeaked out.

BFF! Sugu whose rumors were true. His tongue was magical. His hands flew down to your hips, helping you roll deliciously against the fabric of his sweats while his wet muscle was hot against your nipples. He used his teeth to pull down the fabric so he could taste your bare bud against his tongue. He suckled and licked your sensitive nipple causing your arousal to seep past the lace of your panties. You began to soak his sweatpants but he wasn’t gonna have you stopping anytime soon. He pulled your hips into tight circles against him, overwhelming your nub. His teeth nibbled at your nipple and you jerked up at the sudden shock. His grip was bruising and you wanted – no needed more. “Sugu.. more.. need more” you sounded so pathetic.

BFF! Sugu who was left with little choice! His princess wanted more and more she was going to get. His head kissed your entrance, barely pushing in past the tip. You mewled, nails digging into his shoulders as he teased himself into you. “You think you can take me?” he asked you and you nodded fervently. He was thick and long – even his tip felt like he was tearing you in two. You wanted to be absolutely broken. “M-more Sugu,” you begged, trying to move your hips to sink down further. He kept you still – only allowing you to move if it was him dragging you down against him. Your slick was dripping down the rest of his cock, you were completely overwhelmed by the little attention he was giving you. One of his hands moved from your hips down to your clit, rubbing slow circles – barely ghosting above it. You were clenching on his fat tip and whining embarrassingly loud. He wanted to have you crying for his cock. He clicked his tongue at you, “I’m not convinced enough you want my cock.” He looked so unaffected as you shook, “I do! I need it, Sugu,” tears fell down your cheeks as you desperately tried to convince him.

BFF! Sugu whose hips slapped against yours at a brutal pace. He had you pinned into the loveseat, head down and ass up. A creamy ring formed at the base of his unrelenting cock. Drool was seeping from your mouth and onto the couch, the only thing you could think about was the way he was pounding into that gummy spot that made you dizzy. “No one could make you feel this way,” he promised you, “this pussy was made for me.” His pace was bruising, his balls slapping against your clit. He pulled your hips up farther, making you arch your back. Everything was so noisy – the sound of you meeting his hips, the squelch of his cock pulling in and out, and his grunts each time he felt his tip kiss your cervix. Geto looooved watching you take him so well. Each time his cock disappeared inside of you, only to reappear as he roughly dragged out of you. He didn’t know if you were purposefully squeezing him each time his hips pulled back. Were you trying to keep him buried deep? “Your date won't mind if I leave my cum in you, right?” he teased you – knowing full well you wouldn’t be going anywhere after he was done with you. “Dripping out of your pussy at dinner,” you couldn’t fathom him being able to laugh right now. “What would you even tell him?” he was imagining the scene playing out in his mind, “My roommate thought I was looking a little empty. Needed to stuff me full,” His smile lazy thinking about how he was claiming you tonight. He was fucking your tight little hole deliciously, making sure you could never be satisfied by anything other than his cock. You pushed your hips into his, making sure he reached as deep as possible. “You want to cum, princess?” he picked up his pace – which you didn’t even think was possible – your tits bouncing at each thrust of his hips. You nodded, pleading for him to make you cum. “God – cum on my cock. Want t’feel you squeezin me,” the rough pad of his finger met your clit, helping your pleasure meet its peak. “I’m cumming, Sugu,” you cried out to your best friend.

BFF! Sugu who wasn’t done with you once you came. You tried to claw at his hands on your hips, begging him to slow down. The tension in your tummy snapped, cumming undone loudly around him. He paid no mind to your pleas, “You can take more. You’re a good girl, I know you can.” He didn’t ever want to leave your snug pussy. He would fuck you all day if that’s what it took for him to feel satisfied. “Give me another, baby. Cum on my cock one more time. I know you can,” he was so filthy. You never had a guy dirty talk to you the way Geto was. He was demanding and unrelenting. It was alarming how much you enjoyed the filth leaving his lips. “How could you tell me to stop when she’s gripping me so tight – pussy doesn’t want to let go of me.” he threw his head back, “”S your fault I’m pounding you like this. I couldn't let you get away with showing me that little number.” The lingerie he was referring to was on the floor below you two, ripped into pieces from when he tore it off your body. He completely pulled out of you – leaving your pussy uncomfortably empty before flipping you over and folding you in half. He placed the back of your knees on his shoulder, wasting no time pushing himself back into you. The new angle took your breath away. His heavy frame held you down as his cock was unrelenting. When you looked down you could see his length slide in and out of you, your cute little pussy lips swallowing him whole. Your arousal coated his cock – all thick and creamy. You felt like you could pass out from the sight – not thinking it was possible to be so wet. His thumb reached down to your clit, rubbing harsh circles on it. “C’mon baby. I’m addicted to the way you squeeze my cock. Let me feel you cum again. Need it, princess,” he begged. He was slowly losing all control. You were so perfect underneath him, taking him like the good girl he always knew you were. You were wrecking him. Your sounds were so cute – choking back sobs as he fucked you to another peak. You were begging for him to cum inside you. You wanted to feel him coat your walls in his sticky juice. “Gonna pump you full,” he promised you. “Gonna feel so good stuffed full with my cum.”

BFF! Sugu who can’t stand watching his semen leak out of you. You were completely fucked out – chest heaving as you laid on the couch. Geto was still holding your legs up, trying fruitlessly to push his juices back inside of you.

BFF! Sugu who needs to make sure you keep all of it. He didn’t even wait for you to regain your energy before his thick fingers are deep inside of you. “Can’t let a single drop go to waste,” he tells you. He curls his thick digits, pushing against the squishy spot that makes you see stars. “No more,” you breathlessly say. “Just one more. Need to make sure it all keeps,” you are completely overstimulated. The feelings of his fingers are heightened by your two orgasms – which only makes you come undone even faster. His fingers are lightening fast and your pussy sounds like it's made of water. It’s so loud and wet and you just can’t help yourself from cumming again. You’re thrashing against his unrelenting fingers, crying loud enough that your neighbors definitely hear. “That’s it. S’good for me,” he’s emotional watching you come undone so many times by his doing. You were his. His, his, his.

BFF! Sugu who doesn’t even have to tell you to cancel your date. You couldn’t pick your head up after he was done with you. You were staying home with him – where you belonged.

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crookedteethed · 1 month

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⋆ ★ Rafe says “he's done” with mistress reader

18+ smut(pinv), oral (male receiving), cursing, infidelity, toxic relationship, "su*cide attempt", mentions of daddy issues, reader is delusional asf in this one , no happy ending, age gap between Rafe and reader

It had been bad this time; it had been fatal.

Rafe had said it was over; this time, he meant it.

He said things were going well with his wife, and he didn't want you to ruin it this time. These were his exact words.

He was too old now to be chasing young girls' pussy around like he was still in his twenties. His exact words.

He was too old, and you were just young girl pussy.

In your final moments with him, you asked him if his wife knew how to stuff him whole inside of her mouth without gagging like you do.

He said that wasn't the point. On their wedding day, he made a vow to his wife whether she knew how to stuff him whole or not.

"Dilation of the throat." You said. "That's when your throat slowly starts to close; you can hardly get any food down your esophagus, let alone air. It happens as you get older. Rafe, I hate to tell you, but your wife is dying."

Rafe had called you childish,He kissed your tear-soaked eyelid, then left your studio apartment--in which he helped you pay for.

Then that was it.

He was gone as quick as it all happened.

The first week without Rafe hadn't been that bad.

You cried some, binged watched cable TV, and then sat numbly on your sofa, wishing Rafe was there to coddle you like the father figure you always saw him as.

His warm embrace taut around your body, he'd peck his lips around the supple skin of your face, telling you that everything was going to be ok, and then he'd fuck you, make you forget about whatever you were sad about, and then go back home and sleep in the same bed as his wife, while you were all alone.

During the second week, you started to feel the emptiness even more acutely, and your stomach and gut became more hollow.

To cope, you slept with a couple of old flings, guys, and girls that quite naturally never made it past the talking stages because they weren't Rafe.

In the third week, you realized that Rafe had not blocked your number, so you called him.

He picked up within the third ring.

"What." he said sternly.

"I'm just checking in on your wife, how's her dilated throat? Does her blow jobs feel tighter than usual? If so, her throat will be completely closing soon, meaning she won't have space to breathe. Rafe, your wife doesn't have much time to live ---"

He hung up.

You called again.

"I've missed you." You were the first to say. "Come over so we can talk--bring your wife too, maybe we can work this out, just the three of us--"

He hung up again.

Then, because you were drunk, you sent him a picture of your clit with the text message, "She misses you too :(."

In the fourth week, you figured that there was only one thing you had to do, and that was to kill yourself.

Of course, you weren't going to commit suicide, but Rafe didn't have to know that.

On that Saturday afternoon, you knew Rafe would be off of work somewhere laughing with his wart of a wife and his friends and their warts of wives.

That must have been the reason he didn't answer when you called him, so you sent him a voice message.

"To whom it may concern, I've decided I no longer want to live. To the left of me, I have a prescribed bottle of Vicodin, of which I plan to take all 27 capsules, and to my right, I have my note. In my note, I have given my lawyers specific instructions to out you and I's rendezvous to your wife. I have a USB with all our text messages and sex tapes on it; I've planned for them to give to her when I die. If you don't want this secret to get out, I'd advise you to be at my apartment complex in one hour fucking my brains out. See you in one hour; tell your wife I said hi."

And then you waited.

You jumped when you heard Rafe bang on your door three times, and then he'd remember he had a key, then he barged in your apartment, his head swinging from left to right.

He saw you sitting on your sofa with your matching lingerie set on, a bottle of vodka in your hand.

"You do care." You smiled, standing up to give him a hug, he shrugged you off.

"Where is it?" He asked. "Where's that USB?"

"There is no USB." You said.

Rafe had looked down at your coffee table to where your supposeit Vicodin had been.

"That's fucking baby aspirin." He scoffed, as he slowly start to undo his belt buckle. "This is what you were going to kill yourself with?"

You nodded shyly as he grabbed you by your hair and forced you to your knees.

A blowjob was the last thing you wanted from him, but you'd take anything.

Looking down at you, Rafe said, "Maybe next time I'll lend you my old man's revolver, that'll do the trick, right?" right before he grabbed the back of your head, and forced his cock--all nine inches of it--down your throat.

You'd hadn't gagged, though you wished you had, so he could have slowed down his relentless thrust into your mouth.

With every thrust, your body responded, craving more, yet yearning for a pause—an unexpected reprieve.

You could hardly catch your breath as he maintained his relentless pace, a rhythm that sent waves of sensation coursing through you.

You wanted to surrender, yet a part of you fought against the tide, desperate for control in a moment that demanded nothing less than your complete submission.

Rafe eyes never seemed to leave yours with his cock stuffed in your mouth. He loved the humiliation of blowjobs. You just stared at him, teary wide eyes.

Rafe's face was so handsome. His eyes were so beautiful. So full of life. A face that could be so easily broken. Your mouth. So full of his cock.

Fuck, have you missed this.

You could see the desire in his eyes, the hunger for more. His gaze was intense, burning into you, and it excited you to know your power--how quick he came to your rescue.

You felt his hands on the back of your head, not forcing, but guiding, encouraging you to take him deeper. His breath quickened, and you knew he was getting closer with he twitch of his cock. With a soft moan, he pulled you up, his eyes still locked on yours.

He wanted to watch your reaction as he took control, as he showed you who was in charge.

He pushed you against the wall, his mouth finding yours, and you tasted yourself on his lips. It was degrading, and you loved it. He knew it too, and a smirk played on his lips.

"You like being used, don't you?" he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. "Being on your knees, taking me however I want. It arouses you."

You couldn't deny it, the wetness of your cunt dripping down your thighs.

"Yes," you whispered, your voice a mere breath. "I do." And with that admission, he took you again, this time with you on the edge of the sofa with both your legs pressed to your sides.

You let out a soft moan as Rafe entered you, his cock sliding deep with one slow, deliberate thrust.

That familiar stretch and burn always made you gasp—a sensation you loved and craved. Rafe's hands gripped your hips, his touch firm as he held you in place, his eyes never leaving yours.

You loved how he watched you, taking in your every reaction as if it were the first time all over again--almost as if he was all yours and no one else's to share.

His thick cock filled you, and you could feel every vein and ridge of him as he slowly began to move. That delicious friction built as he withdrew and then thrust again, setting a slow, sensual rhythm.

The room was filled with the sounds of your passion—your soft moans and the slick, wet sounds of your bodies moving as one.

Rafe's breath quickened as he began to move faster, his hips snapping as he drove into you with purpose. You met his passion with your own, your bodies a tangle of limbs and sweat.

His hands explored your body, caressing your breasts, neck, and face, his touch both possessive and adoring.

As your pleasure built, you knew you would climax soon, and you wanted Rafe to join you in that exquisite release.

You whispered for him to let go, and with a few more powerful thrusts, he obeyed. His body stiffened as he filled you with his release, his cock pulsing as he found his own bliss.

Rafe laid your limp body outstretched onto your sofa, and through hooded--fucked out--eyelids, you watched as he put back on his clothing.

"I think I love you." you croaked.

Rafe ironed out his slacks and proceeded to put his foot in one pant leg, all the while saying:

"I love my wife." He said sternly.

Defeated, you laid your head back and closed your eyes.

"This was the last time, Y/N." He said. You could hear him put on his last article of clothing and straighten himself out.

"You always say that." you sighed.

"Well, I'm serious this time."

"You always say that part too." You said.

And with that being said, he placed his lips on your forehead, took your bottle of baby aspirin, and left your apartment for the second "last time" that month.

Rafe went back home, made love to his wife, and then told her he loved her, but he knew he didn't really mean it.

#crookedteethed #fem reader #drew starkey #fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron #(older)husband!Rafe x mistress!reader #husband!rafe #the outer banks #obx #obx x reader #obx fanfiction

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lipglossanon · 1 year

Text

Stay Right Through

☆───── ⋆⋅🐾⋅⋆ ─────☆

Dogman!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader (one shot)

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, hybrid au, dogman Leon, master/pet dynamics, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), mounting, breeding, knotting, unprotected sex, creampie

not proofread 👌

Title from Wandering by Good Charlotte 💜

Part 2: I Only Touched Her Hips But She Saw It

☆───── ⋆⋅🐾⋅⋆ ─────☆

Excitement makes your leg bounce as you wait for the lady to come back from setting up.

You did get to the hybrid adoption center a little early, but you’re just really happy to be here!

Hybrids were all the craze ages ago, but since the newness has died off (aka puppy syndrome has waned) there were more and more of these places opening up. Your parents never saw the point in getting a hybrid for the family, very old fashioned not to mention pretty anti pet in general.

So now, you have your own place and a steady job that isn’t eating up all your time anymore making it the perfect time to get a feel for what kind of hybrid you want. You’re definitely open to any of them, but it seems like the dog hybrids have a higher turnover rate which is why you’re at this specific adoption center.

The lady finally comes around to the front desk and smiles at you.

“Sorry for the wait, now how may I help you?”

You glance at her name tag, “Hi Patricia, and I’m looking into adopting. I was hoping to kinda get the ball rolling today.”

She laughs, “Not a problem. If you could fill out this form, I can put this in the system while you take a look around and see if there’s anyone you like.”

“Thank you,” you smile, taking the forms and returning to your seat.

It takes a lot longer than anticipated, but soon enough you have all your i’s dotted and t’s crossed. Turning in the clipboard, Patricia stands up and leads you over to a locked door. She runs her card across the electronic sensor and opens it for you.

She gives you a little nudge inside, “There are caretakers throughout if you have questions or concerns. Cameras are all over the facility but you look like a nice enough person so I’m sure we won’t have any issues.”

She laughs a little and waves as she closes the door behind her, leaving you to sort of walk around and look.

The place is a lot different than the mental picture you had; it’s set up like an open floor plan, but with individual mini rooms separated by cubicle partitions. It seems like in the center is just a large lounge type area with couches and an entertainment center. Past all of that you can make out granite counters suggesting a kitchen.

With that, you can see all kinds of hybrids hanging around in the living area or just milling about talking with one another.

“Hi! Need help?”

You look over at the perky blonde woman with the name tag Sherry.

“Uh kinda, I just don’t want to step on any toes, y’know?” you smile feeling a little shy.

“Not a problem,” she laughs, gesturing for you to walk with her, “I’ll just give you a quick tour and let you meet some of the pups.”

“Not that I don’t appreciate it, but I was really hoping to look at older—“

“Oh gosh, that’s great,” she gushes, “sorry to cut you off, but we have more than we like to see with older dog men.”

“Oh,” you laugh at her bubbly attitude, “well that’s great,” you wince, “not that it’s great.”

She pats your arm in solidarity, “I totally understand. But I’ll take you right over to where they like to hangout. They tend to stay away from the center of the lounge, too many yapping pups.”

Her voice must mimic one of the older hybrids with that last comment and you laugh along with her.

She guides you closer to the kitchen area but off to the side that sort of resembles a ‘man cave’ for lack of a better term. It’s more dimly lit with similar lounge furnishings.

“Hi everyone!” Sherry lights up the space with her presence, some of the hybrids calling back to her as you two walk closer.

“We have a new prospective friend here,” she introduces you to a trio of dog men standing up from the couch.

“Nice to meet you all!” you wave, excitement probably making you smile like a maniac but you’re just so happy to finally have this chance.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Chris,” a tall, dark haired dogman nods, his Rottweiler ears flopping a little as he tilts his head to look over at the other two.

“H-hi, I’m Ethan,” the mild mannered blonde rubs the back of his neck nervously, his twitching ears reminding you of a Chow Chow making you smile wider.

“Leon,” the last dogman gives you a lazy two finger salute, sandy blonde hair nearly hiding his soft Labrador ears.

“Would you like to hang out here while I run off to grab some pamphlets?” Sherry asks you with a twinkle in her eye, giving you an option to hang out with these three alone.

“Sure,” you nod, watching as she spins on her heel and walks in the direction of the office.

You turn back to the three dog men who quickly invite you to sit and hang out. Chris is quick to talk, adept at conversation making you laugh at some anecdote or other. Ethan’s a little more subdued, reminding you of yourself, chiming in every now and then. He seems to help reign Chris in when he gets a little too enthusiastic.

Leon, although he talks less than Chris, constantly draws your attention. You don’t know if it’s cheesy puns or his overly cynical jabs (which Chris takes offense to and then Ethan’s breaking up their growling and snapping), but you have a good feeling about him. So by the time Sherry makes her way back with some actually helpful pamphlets, your mind is all made up.

“It was so nice meeting you all,” you wave cheerfully, following Sherry back to the front.

“Well, any lucky candidates?” Sherry asks with poorly hidden enthusiasm.

“Yep,” you smile at her, happy with your choice, “I’d love to take in Leon, if he’s fine with it of course.”

“I’m sure he will be!” she enthuses, clapping her hands, “he’s been here the longest so I’m so happy to see someone finally pick him!”

“Really?” you look back through the door right before it shuts, “I’m surprised.”

“Eh,” she waves you off, leading you over to a different section, “he’s just grumpy,” she pauses and looks around before whispering, “people come in, pick him out, then being him back after the trial week. Always the same, he’s too sarcastic, too grumpy, they just want a younger dog.”

Your heart cracks after hearing that, determination blazing through the sadness, “Well that’s not happening this time.”

Sherry looks at you, eyes contemplative before grinning, “I think you two will be a good fit!”

She has you hang out in her office as she prints some documents to put in a Manila folder for you to take home.

“You’re all set,” she leads you out the back to the parking lot, “your background check should clear in about three days and we’ll call to set up a time to have Leon do a trial stay at your place.”

You hesitate but push through to ask, “Is it okay if I come by tomorrow? I’d like to make sure Leon is fine with it, too.”

Sherry looks a little teary eyed as she quickly nods, “Of course, please do. I think he’s gonna be perfectly happy with ya though.”

You bid your goodbyes and you get in your car to head home. It’s not that far of a drive, luckily, and since it’s on the other part of town there’s no crazy traffic. You’re home lounging on the couch in no time, texting your friend Heather all the details. Once you send her the link to Leon’s profile, she does not shut up about him.

Rolling your eyes, you close your phone and start reading through the folder. It’s all pretty basic info on how to care for a hybrid; they’re pretty much like a person, just a little less adept at some things. They can hold a job if they wish but more seem to choose the pet lifestyle.

Gazing down at Leon’s profile photo, you just really wanna take care of him. Show him that not all owners are complete douchebags.

The next day passes quickly and by the time works over, you’re tired but buzzing—excited to get to the adoption place and meet up with Leon again.

Sherry greets you again, just as enthusiastic as before. She leads you over to one of the cubicle partitioned rooms and raps her knuckles on the side.

“Leon, she’s here,” her voice sing songs.

“Have fun,” she pats your arm and turns back the way you both came.

Leon’s nice enough to you, but you can tell he’s acting very closed off—keeping all of the conversation pretty baseline and shallow. No matter how grumpy and gruff he’s acting, you’re literally showering him with enthusiasm. You show him pictures of your house (including the room that’s all his, if he wants it or you can work something else out).

You ask him tons of questions, but he only answers a few. A few times you say something that makes him smother a smile or a laugh making your heart flutter in your chest. Right before it’s time to go, you’re shifting on your feet at the opening of his room.

“I know I’ve asked a million times, but are you good with living with me? I promise I really won’t push it if not,” you smile shyly, “I’d be super bummed though.”

His blue eyes watch you, unreadable for a moment before he smirks, “Hey beats being here,” he raises his voice a little, “plus I won’t have to deal with deadbeat rotties.”

The partition wall next to you rattles and you see Chris looming over it to glare at Leon.

“I’ll be glad to see you go, tomorrow can’t get here soon enough.”

“Tomorrow?” you ask quizzically.

Leon looks a little sheepish but shrugs easily, “Pretty sure they pushed it through this afternoon.”

“Oh,” you beam, feeling giddy all over, “that’s great! I’ll be here as soon as works over! Oh! And then we have the whole weekend to get you settled in, this is going to be so much fun!”

Chris and Leon both look amused as you finish rambling, now feeling bashful for coming on too strong.

You fidget before clearing your throat, “C-can I pet your ears?”

Chris’ eyebrows raise and he grins at Leon, “Can’t believe you, Kennedy; she hasn’t got to pet you yet?” he tilts his head toward you, while looking at Leon, “you can pet me, ma’am.”

Leon steps between you two and snarls at him making Chris laugh and drop back down behind his wall. He walks closer to you, lowering his head due to his height.

You smile sweetly making him blush as you softly run your hands through his hair before coming up to rub his soft sandy colored ears. He shivers and headbuts your shoulder, silently asking for more. Stifling the giggle that wants to escape, you use both hands to pet and rub his soft ears.

“You’re such a good boy,” you murmur not really thinking.

He whines a little and nuzzles into your neck making the giggle you were suppressing come bubbling out. He noses against your skin, huffing warm breaths as you continue to pet him.

“You’re so sweet, Leon, I’m happy you’re coming home with me,” you keep your voice low and soothing.

He only chuffs against your neck, rough tongue coming out to lap at your skin before he’s pulling away. You smile at him as Sherry turns the corner.

“Sorry to cut this short, but we’re closing soon. Good news is you and Leon leave out from here together tomorrow,” she hands you yet another folder filled with information.

You take the folder and wave to Leon who moved back over to his bed, “See you tomorrow, Leon.”

He just gives you a little wave as Sherry leads you back to the front. She sees you out the door with a smile and a promise to be the one to help you out.

Once you get home, you pace your living room. You feel like you have so much to do but don’t know where to start. Texting Heather, she tells you to chill out and actually sit down. Laughing to yourself about how well she knows you, you collapse onto your couch just realizing how tired you actually feel.

Your phone dings with a new text from Heather. Honestly, ever since you told her your idea, she’s been sending you cute puppy videos. They’ve been full of all types of pets getting along with their owners doing silly things together. It honestly helped you cement your plan on picking an older dogman since you rarely saw any in those videos.

This text, however, was sent with the cryptic ‘to fill in those lonely hours 😜’ and knowing her sense of humor you’re kinda worried about the link.

Knick Knack Paddywhack sounds kinda cheesy but you definitely didn’t expect porn to be on the other side of that link.

At first you don’t even realize that’s what it is; it starts off pretty tame in general and before you know it this female owner is being mandhandled face down onto the couch as this huge, buff mandog is mounting her from behind.

“Yeah you’ve been fucking gagging for this doggy’s dick huh?”

You really should exit from the video but some dark horny part of your brain is too entranced by what’s happening to even move. Distantly, you notice that his dick looks exactly like a human male’s just with the addition of a knot at the base. He fucks her roughly, stretching her out and forcing his cock deep in her wet pussy.

The dirty talk is really what’s making you go a little cross eyed with arousal.

“Oh fuck yeah, knot me, breed my little pussy.”

“You want that? Wanna be my pretty bitch always on her hands and knees?”

“Unh unh yeah, make me your bitch. Wanna have your pups.”

You watch in mounting curiosity and arousal and shame as the camera shows her cunt take his entire knot, sealing them together as he ruts through her climax.

Quickly exiting before the video can go further, you drop your head in your hands. Your panties are soaked, making your thighs feel tacky. In a daze, you move off the couch and head into the bathroom to take a shower. Your thoughts are a whirlwind.

You’ve honestly never given it any thought about inter species relationships; you’ve heard about them sure, but only in passing and never any details. Now, you literally can’t stop thinking about that mandog dominating his ‘owner’ and knotting her. Shivering, your nipples pebble under the warm water.

Leon’s gruff voice and handsome face swim into your thoughts making your clit pulse with your heartbeat. Would he—

You shake your head vigorously. Nope, not going there. You’re gonna shower and then go to bed, maybe watch a cartoon or something to keep your thoughts G rated.

All of that’s easier said than done, but you somehow manage and before you know it you’re waking up the next morning, excited to go pick up Leon and bring him home.

It’s pretty anticlimactic once you leave work and pick Leon up; Sherry had everything at the front ready to go with Leon just standing next to her. She leads him out to the car with you carrying the essentials, stowing them in the trunk while she unclips his collar and leash.

“Please keep us updated,” she ruffles Leon’s hair making him bat her hands away with an eye roll, “we love seeing our pups flourish.”

“Not a pup,” he grouses, climbing into the backseat and shutting the door.

Sherry laughs, “I’ll miss him but I’m more happy he’s leaving.”

“Thank you so much for everything,” you shake her hand, “and I promise to stop by every now and again with updates.”

She walks back inside as you climb into your car. Looking at Leon in the rear view mirror as he stares out the window moodily, you crank the car and slowly leave the lot.

“Do you need anything before we get home?” you ask, breaking the quiet.

He shakes his head no making his ears flop. You hide your smile and turn your attention back to the road. Once home, Leon settles in seamlessly; he takes the bedroom you offer but after the second night has made a little bed for himself in your room, tucked into the corner. When you asked, concerned he wasn’t happy with his room, he just gave you the short reply of needing to make sure you’re safe.

You didn’t push it but let him know he’s more than welcome to tell you if he’s unhappy with anything.

Days passed into weeks which quickly became months. Leon made himself right at home and now you really couldn’t picture your life without the dogman. It was nice coming home after a long day and be greeted with someone so happy to see you. Although Leon is still pretty stunted with showing affection, you usually can convince him to snuggle you on the couch and let you pet him til his tail wags.

He’s really particular about having his tail touched so you don’t pry or push, more than happy to just pet his head and ears.

Today when you get home for work and enter the house, Leon’s beelining straight for you, burying his face in your neck.

“TGIF huh,” you laugh, petting his ears making him whine.

“Missed you so much,” he breaths in your smell, tongue lapping up your neck to your jaw, stubble tickling your skin.

He licks across your mouth once making you jerk back but he quickly follows, raspy tongue licking over your lips and chin.

“Leon—“

You try to tell him to stop as you push at his shoulders but that just gives him the leverage to lick into your mouth. You keep pushing at him while you take a step back to make him stop, but your legs get tangled and you both fall back on the entryway carpet.

Leon still hasn’t let up, and since you were more worried about making sure neither of you hurt yourselves when tripping, he’s drooling and licking into your mouth making you whine and push harder at his shoulders.

He shifts until he’s between your legs and rocks down against the apex of your thighs. Grunting, he shoves your skirt up and tears your panties in half. One of his broad hands, grabs your flailing arms by the wrists and pins them to your chest.

Finally he pulls away from your swollen mouth, licking his way down to your neck again.

“Leon, stop being such a bad boy,” you gasp out, “what’s gotten into you?”

“Heat,” he sniffs against your neck before lightly licking the skin again, “need you so bad.”

You’re in a daze as you feel his bulge grinding against your bare pussy, slick starting to slowly drip out of your hole. As much as you protest, you’re really getting off on this, on Leon losing control and wanting to fuck you.

“T-there are heat toys the center gave me,” you try to cut this off before you both go too far, “you can use those.”

He growls and nips your neck making you whimper.

“Don’t wanna knotting toy,” his growling is getting deeper as he grinds against you harder, “only wanna knot my pretty owner.”

“Oh fuck,” you moan as he rubs against your clit just right.

Your mind flashes back to that video you saw months ago, hips bucking up into Leon imagining him mounting you in the same way.

“Leon, s’bad, we shouldn’t—ngh, fuck!”

He pulls completely away from you and buries his nose in your pussy, raspy tongue eagerly licking up the slick dripping out of you.

He growls and looks up at you as he mouths across your swollen clit, letting his rough tongue lap at the bundle of nerves til you’re keening and spreading your legs for him.

He smirks, “That’s a good little owner, let me taste your sweet little pussy. Fuck, been smelling you for ages and now I can finally eat you out as much as I want.”

“Leon, you’re being such a bad boy right now,” you hiccup a whine, thighs straining to stay open.

“Nah,” he kisses hour clit and softy licks it over and over and over, “you’re just being a bad girl, need me to put you in your place.”

You whine as he goes back to tongue fucking into your fluttering walls. Reaching down, you softly grasp his hair and rock against his mouth. He grunts and somehow shoves his face even more into your soaked cunt, greedily lapping at you with his rough tongue.

The arguments you should make die on your tongue as Leon uses his to make you shiver and shake, goosebumps trailing along your body. With a low keening moan, you relax against him, letting him use that rough tongue to lick your cunt until you’re bucking up into his mouth.

He keeps you there, pinned to the entryway carpet as he eats you out for hours, never letting you cum once. By the time your bleary eyes take in the street lamps through your window, Leon’s pulling away from your slick pussy making you whine.

“Leon, we shouldn’t,” your pussy throbs, entire body strung tight from your denied orgasms.

“Have to,” his eyes are so dilated they look black, “don’t you wanna help me? Just need it one time.”

He looms over you, forearms caging in your head, his jaw and mouth covered in wetness as he grinds his dick against your mound. Glancing down you take in just how big Leon is; he’s so hard the head is peaking through his foreskin, dripping precum all over your thighs. Then, right at his base, you can see the beginnings of a knot forming which makes your pussy ache with want.

You’re nodding up at him, belatedly answering his question, “Yeah, I wanna help you,” your hands come up to pet his hair, “wanna help my good boy.”

He yanks your blouse off, seams popping and tearing until it’s in shreds around you then snaps your bra off and tosses it away. His mouth eagerly licks and nips at your pebbled nipples making you gasp.

“Gonna make you feel so good, breed this hot pussy.”

With a growl, Leon flips you over onto your stomach, hands going to your hips to raise your ass up. You try to push up onto your arms, but his broad palm pushes on the middle of your back shoving your upper body down.

You rock your hips back although there’s not much room from how he’s laying on top of you, back pinned to his broad hairy chest as his cock rubs against your drippy cunt.

“You wanna breed me?” you tease making him growl and snap at the nape of your neck, “wanna knot my pussy?”

He buries the first few inches of his cock in your pussy making you squeal and arch away. His hands move to keep your hips still as pulls out to thrust back in, sinking his cock all the way inside of you making you squirm in place with a cry.

“Think it’s funny?” his tone sounds mean as he ruts his fat cock deeper into your pussy making you wince and try to move away again.

He clucks his tongue and tightly squeezes your hips, “No little owner, you wanted it and you’re gonna get it. Show you how I breed bitches that need a knot.”

“Oh god,” you whine as he bullies his cock even further into your cunt, “Leon s’too much, you won’t fit, I wasn’t made to—“

“This pussy was made for cock,” he scoffs down at you making your body hot all over from his words, “just gotta break you in first; I’ll have you begging for me to knot you.”

His mocking is only making you wetter, pussy walls clenching and pulsing around his cock.

“S’too much,” you finally gasp out, not stopping yourself from rocking back against his slow thrusts, “shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Yeah?” he snorts, “think it’s dirty? Think it’s wrong to want me to fuck you? I bet this entire time you’ve been thinking, Oh please Leon need your big doggy dick to stuff my needy little pussy.”

You moan loudly at his crude words as he laughs.

“Like I thought. You like it you dirty little slut. Like my thick doggy cock filling you up?”

“Leon no,” you whimper, eyes rolling back as he grinds against that spongy spot in your cunt that has you moaning nonstop, “s’dirty ‘n you don’t even have a dog di—“

“Shut up,” his canines nip at your skin making you keen, “gotta teach this little pussy who’s the real master here.”

You gasp and keen as Leon stretches your pussy out on his large cock, bottoming out constantly making your cunt clamp down on him from the pain of his tip knocking against your cervix.

Like earlier, he keeps you pinned to the carpet and slowly fucks your pussy for what feels like hours all while talking filth to you.

“Mmm knew your pussy would be so good, been humping my fist waiting for my heat so I can fill you up.”

“My sexy fucking owner, letting me knot her pussy, breed her full of my pups.”

“I know, I’m so big for this tiny little pussy but doesn’t it feel so good? So nice and stretched out?”

“Leon,” you keen hands scrabbling at the floor, mouth drooling everywhere, “my knees hurt.”

He pauses and gently eases himself out of your cunt. Not giving you time to breathe, he already has you hoisted over his shoulder and carries you into your room. Tossing you onto the bed, he’s back on top of you in a flash burying his dick inside your sopping wet pussy.

You look down and whine to see the belly bulge his fat cock makes inside your body.

“Nice and snug,” Leon licks your cheek, “gonna be so tight on my knot.”

“It’s not gonna fit,” you whine up at him, nails digging into to his forearms so hard they’re bleeding.

You’re already so full, pussy feeling like it’s stretched to the limit, but his knot is pressing against your soaked hole making you rock down into it.

“Sure it will, little owner,” he laughs, voice gravelly and deep making you shudder and relax around his dick, hole giving just a little around his knot, “that’s why I licked you open so good earlier.”

You moan as he licks across your cheek, “Tongued you deep until you were practically squirting in my mouth.”

“Leon, oh fuck,” you hiccup a moan, tears slipping down your face.

“So good for me, prettiest cunt I’ve ever seen and it’s all mine,” he grunts, grinding against your fluttering pussy walls as his drippy tip knocks against your cervix, “my owner and her fat pussy are all mine.”

“Leon,” you gasp, “you can’t say that.”

“Sure I can,” he huffs warm air against your neck, his canine teeth nipping at your skin, “I’m gonna knot your tiny pussy and breed you. Give you my pups.”

“Nooo,” you whimper, pussy pulsing and clamping around his cock, knot continuing to press inside.

“Gonna mount my pretty owner like this every day,” he kisses your neck before licking his way back up to your mouth, “mount my little bitch and give her wet needy cunt my knot.”

“‘M not your bitch,” you finally gasp out around his tongue as he drools and licks into your mouth, “this can’t happen again, Leon.”

“Okay,” he chuckles, “gonna make me use that toy? That fake little plastic pussy? Y’gonna let me knot it in front of you, knowing what I feel like now? I don’t think so little owner.”

He pulls out and flips you over on your stomach, yanking your hips up so your ass is raised, head still down on the mattress.

“Should be able to fit it this way,” he slaps your ass and you whine, fingers twisting in the sheets.

His cock plunges back into your sopping wet cunt over and over; his knot teasing you on every thrust until he slowly grinds deep into your fluttering walls.

“I’m gonna put it in this time, knot you nice and deep,” he pants against your shoulder, mouth drooling all over your skin making you shiver, “gonna knock you up, breed you til it takes.”

You moan and press back against him, mind slow and hazy. He pulls back and then presses forward slowly but insistently and you wail as his knot breaches your clenching hole. His cock’s filling you up so much it feels like he’s in the bottom of your throat.

“Oh fuck, I’m cumming,” you whimper, pussy gushing around his impossibly huge dick, walls milking his knot repeatedly as he just continues to grind into your cunt.

“Feels good,” he slurs, licking over your neck and shoulders, “pussy squeezing me so tight.”

You moan weakly, pussy pulsing around his dick as he continues to grind his hips into your ass.

“Gonna spill deep inside my pretty little owner and she just has to take it,” he chuffs against your neck, groaning as he humps deeper into your cunt.

His grunts taper off into low growls as he rocks harder against you.

“Gonna fuck my pups into you,” he’s snarling into your ear, saliva dripping down the shell onto your jaw making you mewl, “keep this pussy plugged up with my cum all the time—oh.”

He bites down on your shoulder, sharp teeth breaking your skin making you whine as your body burns with pleasure at the pain. You can fill as hot cum floods your pussy, Leon grunting as he keeps humping against your ass while his knot locks you two together.

His fingers slip from your hip over to your swollen clit and he roughly rubs against the sensitive bud until you’re crying and whining, pussy cumming around his cock again.

“There we go, such a good owner,” Leon chuckles in your ear, before dipping down to lick over the bite he left, “mmm milk me, want you so full it’s spilling out.”

⋆⋅🐾⋅⋆

You lay there underneath him, feeling exhausted but content. It’s been several hours at this point and you feel like you’re on another plane of existence. Leon has fucked you better than anyone before and you’re definitely addicted to his knot.

Reaching back, your hand finds his hair and pushing up higher you pet behind his soft fuzzy ears.

“S’good,” he mouths against your shoulder as he ruts inside your knot plugged pussy.

Shuddering as his fingers tease against your clit drawing another weak orgasm from your spent body, you whimper and press even closer to Leon.

“Gonna take such good care of you, little owner,” he kisses you shoulder, “by the time my heat’s over, you’re gonna be my needy little pup.”

Your pussy tightens around him at his words making him whine and nuzzle into your neck. As you lay together, you let your mind drift into a hazy fog. Once Leon’s able to, he gently pulls out of your sore cunt, cum oozing out of your hole.

His rough tongue licks across your cheek as he rolls you onto your back.

“So pretty,” he says to himself as he kisses and bites his way down to your chest.

He laps a path to the swell of your breasts and then softly suckles a hard nipple into his mouth. With a groan, he tugs the hard bud with his teeth before sucking harshly and releasing it with a pop. His mouth drifts over to repeat the same process to the other hard nipple, then moves back; repeatedly teasing your breasts until you’re squirming and whining, grabbing onto his hair to have something to hold onto.

He finally pulls away with a growl, eyes dark and heated as he noses at your breastbone, “Smell so good.”

He drags his mouth down your body, eagerly licking and biting at your skin until he finally reaches your puffy mound and clit.

“Taste good too,” his stubbled jaw tickles where he scrapes it against your thigh, “love licking your pussy all over.”

He follows his word by licking a broad stripe across your cum coated pussy, groaning as he brings his hands up to spread your cunt open. His rough tongue laps at your clit in quick little strokes before dipping into your creamy slicked hole. He laps and lathes his tongue all over your pussy, sucking at your clit before dragging his mouth over to your thighs.

“Gonna mark you up, little owner,” he chuffs against your skin, eyes staring up at you with his tail wagging excitedly behind him.

“Leon,” you whimper.

Your fingers twist in the sheets as you cry out. His teeth are buried in the meat of your inner thigh making your clit throb with need. He sucks harshly at the skin, digging in harder when your thigh trembles under his mouth.

With a grunt, he lets go but then sinks his teeth into your opposite thigh; this one closer to your pussy, making you buck up into his mouth with a gasp. He hums in satisfaction, lips and teeth working at your skin until it’s sore and bruised.

He pulls back with a grin, “You’re even more pretty now.”

“Feel pretty,” you murmur, eyes glassy with arousal.

He pants excitedly, hands grasping your thighs to hold you open as he licks and drools all over your pussy. You arch, his mouth making you rock up into the feeling as he noisily eats you out. Letting go of the sheets, your hands reach for his head and accidentally grab onto his ears. He snarls and fucks his raspy tongue up into your fluttering cunt, pressing you down even further so he can lick into you more.

He pulls himself away before you can cum making you whine.

“Please, Leon, ‘m so close, be a goody boy and make me cum,” you pout at him, tears pricking at your eyes.

He crawls up your body, pressing your hands down with his as he rubs his thick cock against your pussy. His head glides through your slick folds til he’s bumping against you clit making you spread your legs wide.

“You can cum on my knot,” he kisses you, all drool and spit, “wanna mount you again.”

You shudder underneath him and easily let him roll you over. Raising your ass up, you spread your thighs for better leverage.

“Like this?” you ask a little shy now.

“Perfect,” he groans, dragging his rough palms down your back to slap you ass, “my pretty owner and her pretty pussy ‘n it’s all mine.”

He sinks his cock into your willing cunt inch by inch, licking and biting at your nape as he rocks himself deeper into you.

“Gonna breed you so good,” he mutters into your skin, “pussy made for my fat cock, isn’t it? Made to take my knot.”

“Uh huh,” you slur, pussy pulsing and fluttering around his dick as he slowly thrusts into your spasming walls.

He chuffs and bites your neck a little harder as he snaps his hips hard against your ass. His hand moves from your back to your pussy, softly rubbing and teasing across your swollen clit.

“Sweet fucking pussy,” he snorts, nose burying itself in your hair, “squeezing me so tight, know it needs a knot.”

“Give it to me, Leon,” you moan loudly, “knot my pussy, please, want it so bad, feels so good.”

His teeth latch onto back of your neck and he pounds into your squelching cunt, knot catching on the rim of your pussy with every thrust.

“Knot me, Leon, knot me, please, need it,” you’re chanting under your breath , eyes fluttering as your orgasm is fast approaching.

He can’t say anything with his mouth biting into your neck, but his fingers circle your clit faster, pinching it just right between his fingers making you shake under him.

“Fuck, right there, please Leon, fuck me,” you rock back against him, wanting his knot to be inside your pussy already, “fuck me, give it to me, give me your knot. Wanna be your little bitch.”

He lets go of your neck with a low howl as he shoves his knot past your twitching hole and ruts hard in your cunt, fat tip grinding against your cervix so hard it’s going to bruise.

You squeal as he tweaks your clit making your pussy clamp down like a vice around his knot as you cum so hard you see fireworks. Your walls rhythmically milk his cock as he grinds and ruts into your hole.

“G’nna cum,” he whimpers, sounding drunk.

“Mmm,” you squirm against him, feeling as hot pulses of jizz fill your pussy.

He grunts as he spills deep inside you, spurt after spurt of sticky cum shooting out against your cervix as his knot keeps your cunt nice and full.

“Gonna give you my pups,” he licks at the bite wound on your neck and then the one he gave your shoulder when this all first started.

“Fuck,” you mewl, thighs tightening as his fingers go back to teasing and circling your clit.

“Cum for me, little owner,” he goads in your ear, “show me how much you want me to breed this needy pussy.. again and again. And again.”

His fingers circle your clit, the rough pads rubbing you just right making you climax around his cock for the second time that round. You shiver and moan as he keeps teasing your swollen bud.

“Good girl, so good,” he nips your ear, “my own little pet.”

#dogman!leon s kennedy #doggo!leon s kennedy #hybrid!leon s kennedy #dogman!leon s kennedy x fem!reader #dogman!leon s kennedy x fem!reader smut #dogman!leon s kennedy smut #fem!reader #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy x reader smut #leon s kennedy smut #lipglossanon #lipglossmasterlist

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justmeinadaze · 2 months

Text

Inescapable (Steddie X You)

A/N: This is the events that ties in with this thing here :)

Please enjoy!

Warnings: Older (Early 30s) Prisoner Steddie & Young (Early 20s) Fem college student Y/N, SMUT, public smut, fingering, grinding, LOTS of dirty talk, daddy kink (cause I'm me), female masturbation, handjob (m & m), ANGST, cheating (reader is in a relationship), mentions of her parents not approving of her talking to the guys, reader also mentions bf parents don't like her, readers bf interviews the guys and vaguely mentions things from season 4 like the deaths and starts a fight with them, boys get jealous and angry when promises are broken, cliffhanger ending (because I can :) ).

Word Count: 8533

"You can build a prison of stone and steel, but you merely present the prisoner with a challenge. Any truly determined man will find a way out but love, love is the perfect prison. Inescapable."-- Wilson Fisk (Daredevil)

September 1996

The longer you waited for the system to transfer your call to their cellblock the more your nerves continued to build.

You had been corresponding with convicts Eddie Munson and Steve Harrington for almost two months so it wasn’t like this was your first time talking to them but there were so many different factors that made you anxious.

Becoming a lawyer was all you ever wanted to be and you constantly felt like you had to prove yourself since your family was so desperate for you to become anything else. When you were told to pick a case, everyone in your class chose the obvious candidates making your eyes roll especially since there was no challenge in it. So many well-known cases had not only evidence but confessions from the defendant saying that they did the crimes. Manson and Gacy had done interviews constantly incriminating themselves.

Eddie and Steve never once accepted any kind of invitation to do an interview whether it be media or print and they never once changed their stories even in the letters they wrote. A plea deal had been offered for them to plead guilty with Steve serving only 10 years and Eddie with 15 but they declined insisting on their innocence.

The evidence was lack luster at best and it killed you that their lawyer didn’t do a better job at defending them. You genuinely believed them and what they told you. Add in the fact that their demeanors in their writing never conveyed any kind of hostility or rudeness.

Both men were always polite and answered any questions you had. They could be intimidating at times but you thought maybe it was just because they were older than you and stuck in a place they never should have been.

Oddly enough though, you felt safe with them.

“Hey, Y/N?”, a soft voice flowed through your ears.

“Yeah, um, hey. Hi. Is this, um, who is this?”

“I’m Steve and Eddie’s on the phone next to me. The prison has a way for three-way calls but don’t worry. We can pay for those fees.”, the man responds hoping to calm your nerves.

“Hey, sweetheart. It’s good to hear your voice finally.”, Eddie exhales heavily.

Blinking, you hear what sounds like one of them being hit as Steve scolds his friend.

“Stop it. You’re going to scare her.”

“He’s not…I’m not scared. It’s alright, I just…this is all new to me.”

“What? You didn’t expect to be on the phone with convicted killers?”, Eddie replied bluntly making you laugh a little when you heard the other man sigh in frustration. “You’re going to have to get used to it with you wanting to be a lawyer. Unless you want to be lawyer like Steve’s dad.”

“Oh, no thank you. Tax law isn’t exactly stimulating to say the least.”, you giggle.

“Ah, I see you tried to reach out to my father.”

“Um, I did. I hope that’s ok. You didn’t say I couldn’t—”

“No, honey. It’s absolutely fine. I say tried because I imagine he ignored you?”

“He didn’t ignore me exactly. I told him I was a law student…I just left out exactly what type of law I was studying.”, you wince on the other end fearing it may alliant him before sighing in relief when they both laugh. “When I started asking about your case he politely told me to fuck off and your mom didn’t answer my calls.”

“How does one politely tell someone to fuck off?”, Eddie asked.

“He’s got his ways. I’m sorry he was rude, Y/N.”

“It’s not a problem. I’m kind of used to parents talking down to me.”

“Baby? Are you hungry?! Oh shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were on the phone.”

Your eyes squeezed shut as your boyfriend called to you in the background immediately silencing the men on the line.

“Uh, no, Derek. I’m not hungry right now but maybe later?” After nodding, he disappears into your shared bedroom. “I’m so sorry about that.”

“No problem. Isn’t it like nine o’clock? You need to eat something, sweetheart.”

“It’s ok, Mr. Mun—Eddie…I had a big lunch.”

We’ve been writing for two months and you still struggle using our names?”, the man laughs. “You start your letters with ‘em!”

“I know. I know but it’s different.”

“Well, let’s shake out those nerves because I have a feeling we’re going to be friends for a while. You’re Y/N. Who are we?”, Steve instructs with a calm tone that makes you blush. “Come on, pretty girl. Who are we?”

“Steve. Steve and Eddie.”

“Good. Very good. Now can you say it a bit more confidently?”

Glancing around you, you make sure your boyfriend isn’t within earshot before sighing and replying, “You’re Eddie and Steve.”

“You have five more minute on this call.”

The automated voice startled you as you listened to them heavily exhale in annoyance.

“Alright, princess. We’ll…we’ll let you go but feel free to call us whenever. Like I said…It was so nice to hear your voice. Compared to all the bullshit we hear in here…it’s a nice reprieve.”

You hear a line disconnect thinking they both suddenly disconnected before Steve’s voice flowed through.

“All of this has been really hard on him, you know?”

“I can’t imagine…”

“But he’s not wrong. It’s been so long since we’ve heard a kind voice directed our way especially one as calming as yours… But, yeah, um, Eddie said call whenever but you know—”

“I can’t call after 10:30pm.”

“You got it, hon. Have a good night and we’ll talk to you later.”

“Good night, Steve”

##########################

December 22, 1996

“Don’t let my uncle forget to give you the present we got you! We went to every store to find the perfect gift!”

You laughed hard at Eddie’s joke as Steve sighed in fake frustration into the phone.

“Ok we didn’t but we did scan the Sears catalogue Wayne brought when he came to see us.”

“You guys didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Pfft, please. You’re our friend and you said you got us something so sue us.” You softly smiled when you heard Steve’s smile flow through. You imagined this time of year was exceptionally hard for them and wanted to do what you could, growing fond of them after all this time. “Are you still visiting Derek’s parents for Christmas?”

“That is the plan but I’m a bit nervous. This is my first time meeting them and I’m afraid they won’t like me.”

“Sweetheart, have you met you? They’re going to love you!”

“Shut the fuck up!”

This wasn’t the first time another inmate had interrupted their call. They explained to you that while the phones were in a private-ish area, the common area was still nearby. You never told them but you could hear the immediate change in their demeanor when it happened and it killed you. It was as if their old personalities would leak through before prison reminded them where they were.

You wished you could have met the men they were before being incarcerated.

“I’m sorry about that, Y/N. Everyone is a bit amped up with the holidays around the corner. He’s not wrong though. If Derek’s parents don’t like you than fuck them because obviously somethings wrong with them.”

“Steve? You don’t have to always do that… pretend like everything’s ok. Not with me.”

The silence on the other end was heavy but you could hear their steady breathing as they thought about what you were saying.

“I have to. Not just for you but me to. If I don’t downplay it then—”

“We’re reminded that we are actually in a fucking prison we don’t deserve to be in.”, Eddie added breaking your heart.

“I wish there was something I could do.”, you whisper.

“Baby, you have no idea how much you do just by being you. We don’t deserve you, Y/N.”

“Yes you do, Eddie. You and Steve don’t deserve the hell you’ve been through. I wish I could at least hug you both.”

Again, both men were silent and the only sound you heard was your boyfriend in your bedroom as he finished packing the last of his things for your trip.

“We wish we could hug you to, honey.”

“Yeah especially with the way your letters smell I always imagine you smell exactly the same…so fucking sweet…just like you.”

Their voices had dropped to a register you had never heard from either man before let alone any man in your lifetime. The sound had your heart fluttering as you licked your lips and exhaled.

“Are you, Y/N?”

“Am I what, Eddie?”

“Are you sweet?”

“You have five more minutes on this call.”

“Baby?! I got everything packed but I’m not sure if I’m missing something!”, your boyfriend shouts making you gasp as you jump.

“Fuck. Um, I have to go. I’ll call you guys when I can ok? Bye!”

Before they even say a word, you hastily hang up the phone.

########################

January 12th, 1997

Biting the skin beside your nail, you glance at the other people in the visitor’s center waiting to see other inmates. Some women were dressed in low cut shirts showing off their cleavage making you a bit self-conscious as you adjusted the slightly baggy sweater hanging off your body. This was your first time physically meeting Eddie and Steve and you weren’t sure why but you wanted to make a good impression.

Quickly throwing your sweater to the side, you fixed your hair before straightening the long sleeve shirt underneath that fit a bit better to your form. Not wanting to seem too eager, you chose jeans telling yourself it was also due to the cold weather.

You weren’t sure if you could bring anything but to be honest you weren’t even sure what would be appropriate. When you met Derek’s parents you brought a dessert that no one ate except your boyfriend as his mother constantly stared daggers at you from across the table. When you went to see your parents, you showed up with small gifts that they always seemed to awkwardly thank you for before giving you gifts as well that were things you could never use. Oddly enough the only person to react positively to you showing up with an item was Eddie’s uncle whose eyes lit up when you appeared at his front door with cake you made. You both shared it as he talked to you about holidays at the Munson household and answered some of the questions you had.

What do you bring to people who lost their freedom?

Inmates began slowly entering the room and the sudden sounds of partners and parents sobbing as they embraced them overwhelmed you as you closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

“Y/N?”

When you opened your them again you were met with two tall men towering you. You had read about them constantly and seen their pictures numerus time in different place but having them both in front of you now abruptly overloaded your brain as you rose to your feet.

They still physically looked more or less the same than the day they were arrested 10 years ago except Steve had a bit more facial hair and Eddie seemed to have more tattoos on his arms. Under their short sleeve white shirts, you could see their muscular arms and abs, again making you self-conscious as you pulled at the bottom of garment without looking. Steve’s hair was a bit longer but a bit frayed as if he had been running his fingers through it before coming into the room while Eddie’s long hair was pulled back out of his face showing off his soft features.

“Is everything ok? You look scared. Don’t worry, honey, you’re safe in here. No one is going to UMPH—”

Steve’s hands flew up in surprise when you jerked forward and your arms wrapped around his waist. It took him a moment before his own limbs finally circled around you as his cheek rested on top of your head.

“Fuck me… It’s been so long since anyone except Ed has hugged me.”

At the sound of his name, you released the one man to move to the other who without hesitation took you in his embrace and clung to you tightly as his fingers tangled in your hair.

Feeling his hands shake against you, you pulled back into time to hear him clear his throat as he turned away from you to run his palms over his face.

“Sorry, yeah, it’s been a while since anyone has come to see us. Well, except for Wayne.”

Their eyes never leave you as you take a seat and they follow you down making sure to keep their distance until you felt more comfortable.

“I like Wayne. He’s been incredibly kind to me since I met him. Not that everyone else hasn’t…just hard to get a hold of people. Especially Nancy Wheeler and Dustin Henderson since they no longer live in Hawkins.” Shifting your gaze their way, you notice them staring at you with small smiles on their faces. “I’m sorry. I’m, um, babbling a bit. I’m just a little nervous I guess. Plus, you’re not what I was expecting…aaaaand I’m doing it again. Ok.”

Eddie’s hand gently reaches out to grasp your forearm that was resting on the table.

“It’s ok, sweetheart. There’s no reason to be nervous.”

“What do you mean by ‘not what you were expecting’?”, Steve smirks. “Were you thinking orange jumpsuits and tattoos on our faces?”

“No.”, you giggle. “I don’t know. I guess when you’re only familiar with pictures…seeing someone in person…”

“Yeah, we know the feeling.”, the long-haired man beams your way. “I was right by the way. You smell intoxicating.”

***

February 10th, 1997

You smile as both men continue to laugh at joke Eddie had made while they continue to nibble on the food you brought them.

“I’m surprised they let you bring this in. Did you drug them with your own set of like pot brownies or—”

“Shhhh!”, you giggle as your hand reaches up to silence the metalhead who casually tilts back and captures it with his own making a silent mental note that you don’t pull away. “The guards here actually aren’t too bad. At first I was afraid to ask but when I did they told me it was ok to bring desserts but they have to inspect it, of course, and then it can’t be in like any glass.”

“And you said you brought this to Derek’s parents and they didn’t like it? I think these brownies are delicious.”, Steve grinned as he sucked some of the remaining chocolate off his thumb.

“It’s not that they didn’t like it, they just don’t like me.” As you nervously chuckle and glance towards the window, Eddie’s own thumb caresses your skin comfortingly as the other man slides a bit closer to you when he hears the change in your voice. “Before me, Derek was dating this particular girl that his family found more fitting. Kind of like your parents Steve, his are high society and they’ve told him countless times that I’m ‘not a good fit’.”

“The fuck does that mean? You’re perfect.”

“Naw, Ed. Not to the ‘Hawkins Elite’.”, Steve sighs. “My dad was the same. Perfect to them had a particular meaning. It’s fucking stupid because you are an amazing woman.”

Your eyes lock with his as you thank them; his gorgeous honey irises burning into yours. When you notice Eddie is taking you in as well, you laugh hoping to break the tension that had suddenly built as you pulled your hand out of his grasp.

“It’s…It’s not a big deal. He made sure that night to show me how appreciated I am on the dining room table so.” Your face promptly flushes with embarrassment as you try to hide behind your palms. “Why the fuck did I just say that?”

When you finally found the confidence to look their way, you noticed they were still staring at you but something else had replaced the earlier look in their eyes. Was that…jealousy?

“Is that the kind of thing that gets you off? Doing something you shouldn’t?”

Trying to brush it off (and ignore the sexy sound of the husky drop in Eddie’s voice), you smirked as you lazily shrugged.

“Isn’t everyone to an extent?”

“Hm…but not everyone is you.”

“Steve—”

“Y/N.” At the sound of your name, you closed your eyes as you tried to catch your breath. Feeling a shift in the atmosphere, you lick your lips and lean forward till your forehead lands on his.

“This is wrong.”

“You like that though don’t you, pretty girl?” His humid breath warms your tongue as you subtly open your mouth to contain the strong need to melt into the soft sound of his voice. “I bet if I put my hand between your legs that little pussy would be dripping.”

Closing the distance, his lips mingle gently with yours as his large palm cups your cheek. You can feel in his kiss that he’s holding back and the flutters in your stomach desperately want more. Another set of hands takes hold of your face and you’re met with another set of lips that taste like strong nicotine and sin.

“Fuck, you taste so good. Does he appreciate you, sweetheart? You deserve to be worshipped.”

“Eddie…I—”

“Munson! Harrington! Why don’t you share, huh?!”, another inmate yelled pulling you back into the reality of your situation.

“Fuck off!”, the metalhead shouted immediately rising to his feet when the other prisoner did the same.

“Ok, ok, ok.”, Steve tried to deescalate as he quickly stood up and placed himself between both men. “Come on now, guys. Let’s just focus on our own visitors ok?”

Eddie and the man continued to stare each other down before turning back towards their table but to both their dismay you were gone.

***

February 16th, 1997

“Hey, honey. Is everything alright? You sound like you’ve been crying.”

You sniffled into your phone as you pulled your knees to your chin.

“Yeah, I’m alright, Steve. I, um, I just got into a fight with Derek and he stormed out.”

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You can talk to us about it if you want to. We’re here for you.”, Eddie coos hating that he can’t just pull you to his chest and comfort you.

“He thinks…I’m too invested in you two. That I spend too much time talking to you and visiting. He…he wants me to stop talking to you. Maybe—Maybe I should.”

“If…if that’s what you want, baby girl. We don’t want to make things harder for you.”

“Do you WANT to stop seeing us?”

“No.”, you sobbed making the metalhead’s heart burst when you didn’t hesitate. “I like talking to you. You both make me feel safe.”

“You know we’d never hurt you, Y/N. Not unless you wanted us to that is.”

When you laughed at his statement both men let out a sigh of relief.

“What else do we make you feel, pretty girl? Besides safe.”, Steve asked. When you didn’t immediately respond, he took over as he lowered his voice. “Come on, baby. Tell us. Do we make you feel appreciated? Loved? Needed?”

“Y-Yes…”

“Do we give you tingles all over your body?”

“Yes. Fucking everywhere.”, you chuckled making the man smile.

“Even between those sexy legs?”, Eddie adds, biting his lip when he hears your heavy breath. “Can you do us a favor, princess, and run those soft hands between your pussy? Don’t put them inside you though. Just tell us how wet you are.”

You don’t know why but as the brain fog takes over you do what they ask and slid your fingers between your folds making a loud squelching noise as the pads graze your clit.

“F-Fuck…I’m—I’m soaked. I like the way you two talk to me.”

“Hm. Never had a man tell you what he wants? Trust us, honey. We fucking dream about how good our cocks would feel buried inside you. If we were free you’d never keep us off you.”, Steve groans feeling himself stiffen in his pants. “We know you like doing things you’re not supposed to. Maybe we’d show up at your school and fuck you in the library while you try to keep from screaming about how you can feel me in your stomach.”

“Steve…please…”

“Go ahead, Y/N. Push two of your fingers in that tight little cunt and pretend it’s you fully seated on top on me in the back of your class as you try to pay attention. At most you can warm my cock the entire time until everyone leaves. I bet you’d like that, sweetheart, huh?”

“Mmm—yes, Eddie, I’d like that.”, you pant as you roll your hips.

“Jesus Christ, I love hearing you say my name. Say it again, baby, please.”

“Oh God—fuck—I’m gonna…”

You moan both their names repeatedly as the coil snaps and you ride out your high as they listen to your heavy breaths.

“Such a good girl. You alright, honey?”

“Yeah… I just…I wish I could hold you.”

“We know, baby. Fuck do we know especially with what you’ve been through tonight but we’re going to see you really soon right?”

“In a few days, yeah, but I’ll call you tomorrow if that’s ok.”

“Of course, princess. You can call us whenever you need to.”

################

April 19th, 1997

Eddie’s palm held down the corner of your textbook as the wind blew around you.

Since it wasn’t as cold outside today you were able to visit with them outside near the courtyard at a picnic table under a nearby tree. You told them you were studying for an exam and they insisted you bring your materials thinking they could be of more help.

“I mean we were punished by the criminal judicial system so you’d think we’d know some of this stuff.”, Steve chuckles.

“I know a lot of it but when it comes to tests I struggle to retain any of it. It’s like I just panic sometimes.”

“I always had trouble focusing.”, the metalhead adds. “That’s why I failed so much. Oddly enough the GED wasn’t as difficult.”

“When you get out would you want to go to college?”

“Oh, sweetheart. What school would take me when I get out of here?”

“Eddie…”

“He’s got a point, babe. I tried so hard to get into a university after I graduated and even with my sports record no one wanted me. I doubt a prison record will make that easier.”

“That makes me so angry.”, you growl. “You two didn’t do anything wrong. When is your next appeal?”

“Mine is in a month and his is in three.”, Steve sighed. “Let’s not talk about that right now. How are you, Y/N? Beside the tests and school, I mean.”

“Everything’s ok. My relationship with Derek has been a bit strained. He went with me to visit my dad and my father just grilled him the moment he walked in. To remove the focus off of him, he told him that I’ve been visiting you two. That, um, that didn’t go so well.”

“What happened?”

“He just…he doesn’t approve.”

“Y/N, sweetheart, what did he say?”, Eddie soothed as he shifted his body closer to yours.

“He’s afraid you’re going to kill me like that girl.”, you murmured, panicking slightly when you see the metalhead’s jaw tighten. “You know I’m not afraid of you right? I know you’d never hurt me like that.”

“We know, baby. We know.”, Steve coos as he leans down to kiss your forehead.

“I wish I could do something to help.”, you reply in that small voice that drives them crazy.

After quickly taking a look around, he glances down at your skirt and without warning subtly lifts your body as he adjusts it so its further up your thighs. Grasping your leg, Steve lifts it over his own and Eddie slides over till he’s pressed up to your opposite side.

“Keep looking at your notebooks, honey. Don’t lift those pretty eyes from the paper unless we say ok?”

“Ok.”, you answer breathlessly as excited nerves fill your tummy.

“Good girl.”, Steve praises as he kisses your cheek and you feel his palm ghost up your skin slowly between your legs. “Fuck me. Are you not wearing panties?”, he whispers making you clench at the needy sound.

“No…I was kind of hoping…”

“Hoping what? That we’d touch you?”

“Such a bad little girl.”, Eddie teases as he reaches for your hand closest to him and kisses the back before placing it on the bulge in his blue sweatpants. “Just enjoy his fingers, Y/N. We can use you to take care of ourselves.”

“Oh my—”

“Shhhh! You have to be quiet, baby. Don’t want to get caught now do we?”, Steve smirks as you passionately shake your head. As he guides his index between your folds, your free arm wraps around his as you rest your cheek on his bicep. “Did you like that? Eddie saying that we’d use you… Oh Munson, she definitely did.”, he exhales as he wiggles and presses his finger against your clit.

At the sound of you trying to hide your moan in his arm, Steve tugs your leg further up his own and you suddenly feel his stiff cock through his pants rubbing against your calf. To your left Eddie coughs to hide a grunt that wanted to break free as he placed his hand on top of yours and maneuvered it so you were stroking him over his clothes.

They both would give anything to feel your body directly on theirs but they knew their window of time was short and unfortunately where they were there was no way to discreetly pull down their pants.

“S-Steve…pleeeeeeeeease…”

Eddie’s nose smushes against your cheek just as his friend guides two of his fingers into your core.

“We’re gonna get in trouble, Y/N, if you can’t control yourself.”, he growls as he presses your palm harder against him. “Fuck, your hand feels so fucking good.”, Eddie groans as he kisses your neck.

“Goddamn, you’re so fucking tight.”, Steve whispers. “I would give anything to—mmph—feel your pussy squeeze my dick. We’re going to ruin you, little one.”

Clinging tightly to his arm, you pressed your face into him as you muffled the screams that wanted to be heard.

“Cum, pretty girl. That’s it, baby.”, Eddie urged as the coil in your belly snapped. “Good girl. Fuck.”

After sucking your slick off his index, Steve offered his hand to his friend who without hesitation licked the rest of his middle finger.

“I knew it. I knew you tasted fucking sweet, little girl.”, he grunted as his other palm roughly grabbed your wrist, holding your hand still as Eddie rolled his hips a couple more times before shuddering a bit as he came.

Utilizing both his hands now, Steve pressed your leg harder to his crotch, grinding as subtly as he could till he grunted and his face scrunched as he soon followed.

Calloused fingers tenderly lift your head and you softly smile when the metalhead’s lips land on yours.

“I love you, Y/N.”

Giggling, you rub your face into his neck as you inhale his smell of soap and cigarettes.

“I think that’s the orgasm talking.”

With a firmer grasp, Eddie tilts your chin so his eyes lock with your own.

“I’m serious. I love you, sweetheart, and I think you love us to.”

As you turn to face Steve, he gently places your leg back down and helps you adjust your outfit.

“I love you to, honey…very much. You don’t have to say it back or anything. We know that loving us…carries a lot of weight.”

The guards scream out into the yard that visiting hours were about to end and both boys help you gather your books as they walk you back inside. Just like every time before their eyes remain on you not wanting to look away till you’re completely out of sight.

Pausing halfway out the door, you swivel your body their way and flash them the most beautiful smile either boy had ever seen.

“I love you both to.”

########################

May 7th, 1997

“Please be nice to them. They aren’t what people say in the papers.”

“I certainly hope not especially since you talk to them 24/7.”, Derek sassed making you roll your eyes. “I’m sorry, baby. Look, I promise I’ll be good.”

When you don’t say anything, your boyfriend wraps his arm around your waist and tugs you to him, smiling when his lips attach to yours.

The sound of a throat clearing startled you as a guard lingered in the doorframe with Eddie and Steve in tow. The pain that lingered in their eyes told you they caught your kiss and it killed you.

“Alright Miss Y/L/N, you and your friend—”

“Boyfriend.”, Derek corrected.

The officer huffed at the interruption as Steve sarcastically laughed under his breath.

“You and your boyfriend have this room for as long as you need. We usually use it for interviews for the privacy and if you need anything I’ll be right outside.”

“Thank you, Bobby.”, you grinned politely and the officer nodded his head in return before stepping back outside.

“Oh, first name basis with the guards. Some people would consider that a red flag, babe.”

“To be fair, her father is a cop so…”, Eddie countered as they both took a seat in front of the camera.

“He IS Mr. Munson but, to be fair, this isn’t exactly his jurisdiction is it?”

As you shakily sigh and your eyes close, you feel shoes lightly tap your shin and when you open your eyes again you are met with their comforting expressions.

“All right, boys, the camera is now rolling. Are you ready to begin?”

Both their faces twitch as your boyfriend’s flippant tone as he takes a seat beside you across from them.

“Yeah, kid. We’re ready when you are.”

At Steve’s equally annoyed response, you felt your body tense as you immediately began regretting your decision. The sparing match was about to begin and you were just now aware this wouldn’t be an interview but a fight for dominance like animals in the wild.

“Perfect! So, Steven Harrington and Edward Munson, you were charged for murder in the deaths of some Hawkins student’s including Chrissy Cunningham who of course the entire country now knows thanks to people in the town spreading awareness and the foundation they created in her name a few years ago. So far, you both have served 11 years of your 25-year sentence… what has that been like?”

“Well, Derek, it’s been no picnic but we have utilized the time wisely. We read and exercise out in the yard. I’ve been reading up on law and we both participate in the group therapy options provided. Eddie was able to get his GED and graduate from high school.”

“Aw that’s nice. It only took a prison sentence for you to finally finish.”, he smiles showing all of his teeth in that sarcastic manner you know very well. “Now, in your own words, can you tell me what happened to those kids that died in 1986?”

Your eyes remained zeroed in on them as they explained what they had told to you and a courtroom numerous times. Someone else killed them and circumstantial evidence made it seem like it was Eddie while a vendetta made it seem like Steve was an accomplice.

“Were you surprised, Steven, when Hawkins Lap retracted their statements in regard to certain Hawkins events including their involvement of the death of Barbara Holland?”

Steve’s eyes fluttered as he tried to hold back the feeling that bubbled in his chest.

“Yeah, I was.”

“I imagine they did that since Eddie’s lawyer insisted on using them as a defense in this case. There’s only so much a company will allow themselves to be blamed for. What did happen with Miss Holland?”

“Derek…”, you warned.

“She was best friends with Nancy Wheeler who you were dating at the time.”

“Derek.”

“Is that why Miss Wheeler broke up with you about a year later? Or excuse me. She goes by Mrs. Byers now.”

“DEREK!”

“Y/N! You’re not their fucking lawyer so stop interrupting!”

“Don’t talk to her like that.”, Eddie growled as he sat up straighter.

“Pfft or what? You’ll kill me to?”, Derek replied smarmily as he straightened as well. “Whether you like it or not, you two are criminals and apparently there was at least enough evidence for a jury to convict you BOTH of that. It honestly amazes me that my girlfriend can’t accept that fact.”

“She’s going to be a phenomenal lawyer especially since she doesn’t just look at what’s on the surface unlike everyone else in the town.”, Steve countered making you blush as a small smirk painted your lips.

“Oh on the surface huh? So, Mr. Munson, you didn’t run after Chrissy was killed? Whether it be because you murdered her or someone else did, you ran and left her behind for your uncle to find, you pathetic freak.”

Eddie rose to his feet as his fists clenched but Steve hastily stopped him as he tried to calm him down.

“When people go missing you just happen to be around, Mr. Harrington? Add in the fact that you both have similar scars that tells anyone with eyes that whatever you were involved in you did it together.”

“This is over, Derek. You promised me—”

“No, you know what’s over? This little infatuation between you and my girlfriend.”, the man rumbles as he squares his shoulders and faces them. “The letters and phone calls stop today as well as the fucking visitation.”

“No.”

“Excuse me?!”

“No.”, Eddie repeated. “We love her and we aren’t letting her go that easy.”

“Oh please! What can you two offer her?! You still have another 14 years in here and then what? Your lives will just be smooth sailing from there?! You’ve only known here for one year and I’ve been with her for three! Trust me, guys, she needs a real man. Someone who can take care of her in every way a man should.”

“Oh yeah, little boy? Is that why when you fuck her she’s thinking about us?”

The room went quiet for a few moments before Derek sarcastically chuckled and shifted his gaze toward you.

“You want them so badly? Fine. I can’t wait to see your face on the fucking news after they tear you apart. At least I can get a good story out of it. Better than anything else you’ve given me this past year, you fucking whore.”

You jumped, pressing your back against the wall as Steve abruptly flipped the table over with his hand before Eddie charged at the boy and tackled him to the floor. As they began to fight each other, guards ran in to separate them, pinning both men to the floor as they held Derek back against the wall.

Neither man look your way as officers tugged them to their feet and dragged them out of the room.

###################

September 27th, 1997

Steve bounces his leg as they wait by the phone for your call to finally come through. You said you’d call last night but you didn’t and it killed them. They understood you were busy but you made promises to them that they desperately held on to because there was very little to hope for in their current predicament.

“This really pisses me off, Harrington.”

“What are we going to do about it, Munson? She’s got school and her job—”

“Oh, I see. So her failing to keep her promises is only ok because we’re locked up. Got it.”

“Calm down, Eddie.”

“Don’t tell me to--! Don’t tell me to be calm. If I was free I’d have punished her already but…”

After coming to prison, Steve had a lot more time to get to know who Eddie Munson was and came to find out that they had a lot in common. Their dads were assholes, their moms weren’t present, and they seemed to have a common attraction to being the dominant partner. On nights when he was desperate and incredibly lonely, Steve would sit beside his friend and elaborate about fantasies he had, had in his head since he hit puberty.

Both men continued to look at the brick wall in front of them as they continued stroking the other’s cock.

“I just want to push a beautiful girl onto her knees and fuck her gorgeous face a-as she gags around my dick. I want to hold her down against the m-m-mattress and stuff myself so deep inside her till can’t walk.”

“Mmph—that kind of intimacy is…is fucking heaven. To have a woman submit like that…fuck… have you e-ever punished a brat before?” Eddie smiles when Steve shakes his head. “Fuck, man. It’s on a whole—fuck, I’m gonna cum—a whole other level.”

After thrusting his hips upwards, his release hit his friend’s hand but what surprised him was when Steve grabbed the back of his neck and pushes the man’s head onto his leaking cock. The metalhead doesn’t protest, bobbing at a quick pace as the back of his friend’s palm guides him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. That’s it, baby. Take it. Take all of Daddy’s cum down that sexy fucking throat.”

As soon as Steve had given him everything he had, Eddie patted the man’s thigh before climbing the little latter to his top bunk.

“Hey, Ed?”

“Hm?”

“You know when I talk about this stuff I mean…to like… a partner I’m in love with who consents to it. Like…I would never…hurt someone…”

“I know, Steven.”, the other man chuckles as he places his arms behind his head to stare at the bland ceiling.

“Hey, Ed?”

“Hm?”

“I didn’t cross a line tonight right?”

“No, Steven, you didn’t.”

“Good because, um, you’re my best friend and you’re, um, kinda the only thing keeping me sane in here. Not just because of the…but because…I trust you.” Steve rolled over to face the wall, closing his eyes as he heavily sighed. “Good night, Eddie.”

The mattress above him shifts slightly until he heard the light sound of socked feet hit the floor. An arm suddenly wraps around him pulling him back into an equally broad chest and another limb slides under his pillow under his head as calloused fingers looped through his.

“Good night, Steve.”

They never told you about any of that because honestly that was none of your business. To them, it was survival and both men trusted each other more than anyone else. They had been through so much and knew truths that no one else did. This was sacred and special to them and they were terrified of people turning it into something dirty.

Not that you ever would or mock them in any kind of way but they just weren’t ready to reveal that part of them to you and were pretty sure they never would.

“We’ve never gone that far with her. I mean she said she likes it rough and we’ve said some things but we haven’t truly set up the dynamic. How do we even do that in here?”, Steve sighed.

“Add in the fact that as soon as she calls us Daddy or Sir we’re going to want to fuck her which we can’t.”

Both men chuckle as a sad sigh leaves their chest.

“Can’t we?” At Steve’s words, Eddie’s eyes flicked his way as he leaned against the wall behind him. “I mean a ton of the prisoners here have contraband brought in. There has to be a guard or two here who doesn’t mind bending the rules for the right price.”

“Steve Harrington, you’re playing with fire.”

“I know but—“

“Harrington! Munson! Call coming through for you!”

Both mean exchanged a glance before picking up their separate lines.

“Y/N?”

“Hey! I’m so sorry. I know I said I’d call an hour ago but I fell asleep. I cut back some of my hours but still. These classes are so difficult.”

“We were really worried about you. We get worried when you don’t call and you missed our last visit, sweetheart.”

“I know. I’m sorry. This will never happen again. I promise!”

################

October 9th, 1997

Their demeanors were completely different this time than the many other times you had come to see them and you knew why.

It was so hard to keep up with your school and work schedule as well as keep constant contact with two men who had a set schedule of their own set up by the prison. You were doing everything you could but you could tell from their fire filled expressions it wasn’t enough.

“I’m sorry.”, you reiterated as they continued to glare at the table in front of them. “I really am. I’m doing my best to—”

“It’s not enough.”, Steve growled making you blink at the audacity.

“I’m…I’m not doing this on purpose. I told you guys junior year was going to be a bit more demanding but I’d do everything I could—”

“You do everything you can yet you still make promises and don’t follow through.”

“I’m sorry I’m fucking busy, Eddie! I don’t know what else you want from me!”

Fingers dig into your bicep as the metalhead yanks you till your face is inches from his.

“Lower your fucking voice, little girl.”

The action startles you for a second before your eyes glare back at him as your teeth clench.

“You’re hurting me.”

As you yank your arm from his grasp, you can’t help but sigh as you see a slight glimmer of pain flash through theirs. They really did miss you and hate being away from you but unfortunately due to the circumstances they had zero control of the situation.

“I really am trying to cut down some of the stress so I can call and see you both more. Like I said, I cut back on my hours at work and this kid in my class offered to help tutor me. He’s one of the top students in my year so I really think he can help me.”

“He?” Your head tilts at Steve’s question as both their energies shift into something new that both frightened and turned you on. “Well, that’s nice to know, Munson. First she’s working at a bar till two in the fucking morning with drunk men fucking flirting and eye fucking her and now she has a male tutor she’ll be spending her time with! No wonder we haven’t heard from her. Little whore as all she needs at home!”

Your mouth fell open as he shouted at you, feeling hurt before the anger took over. Rising to your feet, you grab your bag but as you start to walk away, Eddie grabs your wrist.

“We are not done talking, Y/N. We’ve put up with the disrespect for the past few months because we know you’re going through a lot but missing calls, visits, and now this? No.”

“Let me go now.”

Without releasing you, they both rose to their feet and crowded your space till Steve’s nose was touching yours and Eddie’s lips were hovering near your shoulder.

“You’re ours, Y/N.” Steve’s eyes scan your face as your breathing stutters at his low gravelly tone. “And you will listen, little girl.”

“I’m NOT a little girl.”, you grumble back.

“Then stop acting like one.”, Eddie adds. “Now, be a good LITTLE girl and listen to what Daddy says. Sit. Down.”

The smirk that dons his friend’s face at the title has your pussy clenching as his eyes remain locked on yours. It feels like centuries before you finally collect your bearings and shake the fog that had begun to cloud your brain.

“Fuck you both.”

After shoving Steve’s chest hard, you quickly powerwalk out of the visitor’s room.

***

October 12th, 1997

You woke up with a splitting headache in a room you didn’t recognize with someone’s arms wrapped around you a bit too tightly. Prying out of the boy’s grasp, you throw on a nearby shirt and tiptoe to the bathroom.

Your eyes were still heavy from all the tears you had cried these past few days. You missed Eddie and Steve terribly but you couldn’t bring yourself to reach out again. You couldn’t believe their sudden change in behavior and how they spoke to you. Had the signs always been there and you just never noticed?

They had admitted once that they weren’t jealous of Derek because they cheekily declared that “that little boy can’t make you feel like we do.” Why were they so angry about your tutor and your job? Maybe it was because school and the bar took up a lot of time whereas Derek really didn’t. Because of his own classes he was always coming and going and whenever he was present he always seemed distracted.

To be fair, you did make promises you struggled to keep but it’s because you were so excited to finally talk to them you genuinely planned to go see them. You would literally count the minutes till your classes were done, promptly run home to shower and be ready by the time you told them but as soon as your head hit the pillow as you waited, you would pass out.

Maybe you just needed to find something you could do on campus so you weren’t up so late at work. Yeah it would be a bit of pay cut but you could make it work.

When it came to their attitudes, you hoped you could talk to them and tell you how it made you feel. How did it make you feel? Belittled, angry, annoyed, hurt, degraded…aroused… You had never experienced the brain fog with anyone else other than them. The headspace just seemed to come naturally when you were around them or listening to them talk.

Even if it was them just listening to you chat about your day, you felt that giddy feeling dance through your body down to core. Any time they praised you especially after doing something you knew you shouldn’t be doing; you felt a high like no other. You hadn’t told them but you had had many dreams of them suddenly appearing somewhere you were like class or the bar and having them fuck you roughly as they spanked you, pulled your hair, and held you down as they made you theirs.

Your favorites were the ones where they were in your bed and had you tied to the headboard as both took their time with you as you begged and pleaded with them to make you cum. Your lips would ghost their own as their rough hands roamed your body and left bruises you would welcome the next morning. Their eyes would never leave yours as they took from you they wanted and you would repeatedly moan, “Daddy, please.”

Eddie mentioned the title during your last visit and from Steve’s expression you knew he enjoyed it as much as you did but they had hurt you so badly.

You sigh as you exit the bathroom and quietly grab your pants.

I’ll give them a few more days to cool off and then I’ll go visit them so we can talk.

As you slide on your shoes, your eyes shifted towards the Polaroid camera resting on the bedside table.

Fuck me. I hope I didn’t do anything stupid with that thing last night.

***

October 13th, 1997

Eddie growls loudly as he tears up your letter and throws it in the trash can nearby while Steve continues to stare at the picture of you allowing this boy to kiss what was theirs.

“Give me that, Steven. I’m going to fucking burn it—”

“No… No. She’s playing the game, Ed. She made this move because she thinks we can’t do anything about it.”

“Because we can’t. UGH! Maybe we jumped too quickly, man. It just fucking hurt us because we don’t get to see her everyday so when she says she’ll call and she doesn’t… “

“Yeah…” Steve taps his fingers against his knee while Eddie takes another drag of his cigarette. “Maybe it’s time to have a talk with her. Show her how much we do care and how much it breaks our hearts when she breaks a promise.”

“She won’t answer out calls or letters.”

“Then we should go to her.”

The metalhead blinks as he nervously chuckles before his friend’s straight face meets his.

“Nope. Nope. Nuh huh.” As the man begins to walk away, Steve runs after him and tugs on his arm to stop him. “Do you know how much trouble we can get in for even having this conversation? You talk to one wrong person, Steven, and we could be stuck here for another 10 fucking years.”

“What if I found the right person?”

“I…what…how?”

“How much money do you have?”

***

October 31, 1997

You faked a smile as you handed your cash to the cashier and grabbed your bags of candy as you headed for your car. Tonight, you were planning on a night in with some of your friends while handing out treats to some of the neighborhood kids.

Truth be told, you didn’t want to do anything except curl up in bed and eat the chocolate you bought. You had tried calling the prison a few times but they informed you that neither inmate was accepting calls or visitors at this time. You sent a few letters but hadn’t received anything back as of yet.

You missed Eddie and Steve so much and it killed you to not be able to speak to them.

After pulling into your driveway, you hastily checked your mail before running inside to get everything together.

Once your hair was styled and you slid on your red spaghetti strap dress to make you look like Cher in Clueless, you take a seat on your couch as you wait for your friends to arrive.

Leaning forward, you decide to sift through the mail pausing suddenly as all the other letters fall to the floor. The envelope was marked from them like all the others and your heart did flips as you hugged the paper to you.

As you tore the paper open, you half expected to see a lengthy note detailing how much they missed you to and when they’d want to meet with you so you could finally talk. Your stomach dropped as you read and reread the only two sentences written on the single page they sent.

“Trick or treat, little girl.

See you tonight.

--Steve & Eddie”

#################

@lemme-slytherin-that-dick @micheledawn1975 @paleidiot @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @noooah @baileebear @dashingdeb16 @nailbatanddungeon

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a-small-writer-in-a-big-world · 9 months

Text

Politics: knight!price x princess!reader

You were unusually quiet today.

Price watched you carefully from where he stood just a couple paces from the river bank where you sat. He didn’t get too close to you as he studied you carefully.

You had run off again and unlike all the other times he hadn’t been able to catch you because he had been busy training the other knights.

“If you wanted to run away you should make it harder to find you.” Price had huffed at you as he approached you earlier.

You didn’t say anything for a moment snd that stopped him. You were always quick with your remarks, always quick with firing back something just a venomous but there was nothing.

Perhaps he had gone too far.

“I wanted to be alone.” You said without looking at him, your eyes glued to the water.

“A princess is never alone, your highness.”

“I suppose not.”

Since then neither of you said anything to each other. You sat on the river bank for a long time, your hands perfectly poised in your lap while you watch the current of the river run further down into the nearby forest and into the fields.

Price knew you like the river and the forest when you wanted time to be alone. He suspected you ran out here when you were overwhelmed or when you were upset, so as he watched you he wondered what brought this along.

Trouble with diplomacy? With your studies or with the court? Perhaps you were still mad at him for the joust a couple weeks ago or maybe something truly was going on between you and Lady Katherine.

He wondered and wondered, his eyes never leaving your elegant form. Even as they trailed over your hair and the way your dress hugged your body he wondered: could he fix whatever made you upset?

“The Queen has found me a suitor.” Your voice was somber and his face fell. “In a few months I’ll be wed and will leave for his kingdom.”

A king. You were going to marry a king.

Price gripped the hilt of his sword and his eyes narrowed. Why wasn’t he informed? The Queen’s judgment trumped all but she hadn’t asked him to visit the kingdom and its king first, to understand who the man was and if he was truly suited for you.

For all he knew, the king could be an incompetent leader who would be putting you in danger.

He should be happy. He would be rid of you, he wouldn’t have to constantly run after you while you made his job infinitely harder and he wouldn’t have to constantly be under your scrutiny.

But instead he felt a pit forming in his stomach. Some other knight would become your bodyguard because even as Queen consort you would find time to run off into places alone that you shouldn’t. He didn’t have any faith that they would be able to keep you safe if they needed to.

He’d have to say goodbye to you and though he supposedly hated you he didn’t want to.

Price was your knight and you were his princess. That was the way things were so supposed to be.

But what say did he have in it? He was a knight and though he owned land he was not a noble by birth. He may be the best in all the kingdom and be the most reliable but he was a soldier, not a diplomat.

He had no choice but to watch you be married off, just as you had no choice but to be married.

He couldn’t imagine what was going on in your head. He’s not sure he ever heard you being interested in any of the suitors the Queen had often mentioned, even if you called them handsome and even if they were nice.

He’s not sure why but he knew he would never found out.

Price cleared his throat and swayed on his feet.

“Would you like to stay out here all day then, your highness?” He asked softer, pushing away the mix of emotions inside him.

“I’ll return soon.” You said almost disconnected from the conversation. “I’d like to wait here for a moment longer.”

Price couldn’t stand the distant look in your eyes, the eyes that usually held some twinkle of life within them even when you often looked at him with distain, and hated that for weeks now you had been so upset.

He couldn’t fight your thoughts, he couldn’t strike them with his blade or shoot them with an arrow. He couldn’t intimidate them or command that they leave you alone. He couldn’t help you in any way that mattered, not that you would accept it from him of all people, even if he wanted to.

“Then I’ll stay with you.”

A/n: still trying to figure out who fell first and who fell harder (want it to be reader fell first and price fell harder but we’ll see. They don’t know what they’re feeling are yet still)

Tags. @deadbranch @makayla-666

#knight!price #captain john price x reader #captain john price x you #price x reader #price x you #john price x reader #john price x you #call of duty #captain john price #princess!reader

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tbgkaru-woh · 8 months

Text

100 Dialogue prompts

Trying this out (feel free to tweak out any grammatical errors) so writers who are bored, have at it! ♥ Mix of Fluff, Angst and Smut

“I don’t see you that way”

“I will just do as I’m told. As I’ve always done”

“Have you never ridden a bike/horse before?”

“You don’t have to be so…formal”

“What happened to us?”

“Good things don’t happen to me”

“Interested in palm reading?”

“Bowing to you felt right”

“There, let me help you.”

“Next time, listen to yourself and not me”

“Why do you want to get in trouble so badly?”

“It’s him/her…isn’t it?”

“Are you keeping it?”

“Good to see a familiar face”

“You never had to ask me anything, let alone beg”

“Oh you again?!”

“I need to take you somewhere”

“With you gone, everything went wrong”

“Insufferable, see you at dinner”

“I wasn’t kissing you, I was saving your life!”

“You did all this already, why not finish the job?”

“I will look for you”

“I couldn’t see anything, I couldn’t breathe”

“You knew about it?”

“I will atone for what he/she did”

“You need to start having some faith.”

“Say what you want, I know what I’m feeling is right”

“It’s okay, you will move on. We will move on.”

“How much do you miss him/her? And what if you didn’t have to?”

“Focus on my hands, on my voice…”

“Perhaps you need to be reminded where you belong”

“I was fine having a non-sexual relationship with you, but instead I’m having non-relationship sex with him/her.”

“I wanted to do it for you and in hindsight it was a terrible idea”

“I’ve been inside him/her more than outside him/her”

“Don’t ask me with ‘please’, you’re paying me”

“Oh why won’t you just die already”

“Sometimes I wonder for how long have you wanted his/her heart and if you will ever stop”

“Filthy cheater, we go again!”

“Didn’t you pay your debt already?”

“I can’t get sick/injured.”

“You act like you’ve never been defeated”

“Diamond thrown into the trash still has the value of a diamond”

“I got engaged”

“All this was decided for me, I had no choice”

“I’m beginning to think not even the jail guards/cops want you around, given how many times they’ve let me bail you out”

“You, sir/madam, should watch your alcohol intake”

“I’ve been denying everyone, you’re not special”

“I’m not looking for a romance”

“Isn’t that immoral enough to tempt you?”

“We’re two sides of the same fucked up coin”

“That’s what I like to see, you are your parents’ best indeed!”

“You have nothing to lose right?”

“Oh I can’t wait to hear you sing”

“Anything you’d like to add to the conversation?”

“Hi.”

“You need to stop making me pick you up in places someone may see”

“I thought I was a puppeteer pulling the strings but instead I was a back seat audience”

“I want names, I want addresses, I’m gonna make them pay.”

“You know where to find me if you ever want me again.”

“My mother is visiting in like 5 minutes”

“Is it that, or is it because you’re in love with me?”

“Not being able to reciprocate has been the hardest part of my life”

“Did you kill someone?”

“Envious of my youth, are we?”

“The others may have gotten away…”

“I found you. Found you looking like you didn’t want to be found”

“Did we use to be a thing?”

“I can fix this. I can fix this…”

“Weird question, are you a supernatural being? Be honest”

“We should have never played Gods”

“Must you be so harsh with me all the time?”

“What did all these men/women do to deserve you?”

“We have a reputation to uphold”

“May I have this dance?”

“I am a bad influence on you!”

“Let’s make history”

“Who the hell wants to live forever.”

“Feeling any different?”

“Time waits for no one”

“You got your happy-ever-after. And for all I know, it’s because I didn’t.”

“Try that again and you’re gonna lose it”

“Didn’t I say one of these days you’re gonna be the death of me?”

“Do you know what my answer was?”

“You look pathetic.”

“Almost didn’t recognize your voice when it’s not yelling at me”

“I often find myself talking to those no longer here as well”

“Excuse me, this is not a buffet”

“I don’t suspect you because I’m the one who put him/her in the ground”

“You look like someone who likes a good gamble”

“I am poison”

“Feel free to stay as long as you need”

“You don’t need to understand, just be a good little thing”

“I’m gonna need your driver’s license, your ID and your phone number please~”

“Say my name”

“You…are telling the truth”

“Is that why you did that? Back there?”

“Stop reading my mind”

“I can teach you”

“How can you laugh?”

“Pretty pictures. I don’t have any”

“Heaven may fall, but __ can’t die.”

#dialogue prompt #writing prompt #dialogue prompts #otp prompts #prompts

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mercurycft · 4 months

Text

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 — 𝐀𝐖𝐅𝐂

## leah williamson & awfc x american!reader !!

contains implied themes of domestic abuse

next chapter - series masterlist - account masterlist

under 1k words.

“no you don’t fucking get it, bradley!”

“maybe i just don’t care!”

“grow up, brad.”

you walked away at that, grabbing your car keys off the hook and leaving the house - slamming the door behind you. it had happened quick, a comment thrown into conversation at the wrong time and it had gone down like a lead balloon.

you were in the kitchen, packing away the dishes from the dishwasher when he had come downstairs - phone in hand and still in his pjs from the night before. you weren’t trying to argue, asking him when he was going to get dressed and ready for your evening plans when he had snapped.

it had been brewing for days, hiding in the corners of your flat and shadowing your every move around the city. you could feel it at home, at work. you spent hours of the day trying to justify it to yourself, sighing and heaving deep breaths about how ‘every couple fights’ - but in all honesty, it felt like you and brad did nothing but fight. each of them starting and ending almost identically. he would snap at something you said, you would get pissed off and storm out and then you would go days without speaking.

the argument was three weeks ago. you didn't go back that night, or the next day. not for an entire week. you were done, mentally and physically.

you tried to justify it to everyone around you, divulging into how much he had on his pla te with work, but the constant bickering had been slowly eating you up inside like a bacteria feeding on your energy. until eventually, you realised that it wasn't normal how you would spend at least fifteen minutes outside the house every day after work, composing yourself with a few tender breaths from the safety of your car - dreading what may lay across the threshold. it wasn't normal how you would flinch when his hand raised above him too fast and too high. it wasn't normal how you felt a weight lift off of your shoulders at the thought of never, ever seeing him again.

you weren't really a 'party' girl as such (and as encouraged as your friends), after college you decided to settle into the life you had started to make. you got a job, a nine to five - spending every day talking to people about their problems and ways they could fix it. you got a house, pumping thousands and thousands and thousands into rent and essentials. when brad got his promotion, he decided it would be better for you to take a step into a more 'traditional' role. so for him, you stayed home. you cleaned, cooked and cleaned some more - until the copious amounts of bleach and detergent could no longer wash away the messy smudge of life.

you had come to terms with it now and had made peace with the fact that this specific chapter of your life was closed. buried. burnt and sent straight into the belly of hell.

so after the breakup, as any good friends do, they waited. they waited until you were ready. then they dragged you out of the house and into their favourite bar, a bar you had never stepped foot in and promised you would be forgetting all about brad.

in some ways, they were right.

well, in every way they were right.

so, so right.

chapter one will be here shortly, enjoy, love always - RGx

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spencerified · 2 months

Note

Hiii, well, English is not my first language, sorry for that. I'm not a writer, but a big reader, so welcome to the community ^^

I was thinking about a reader who works in BAU, gets kidnapped, and for some reason the su-des was filming, and the reader is forced to confess that she like Spencer, (The whole team saw it).

As if the su-des were playing a game like truth or dare, and ended up reluctantly confessing that, the reader having a lot of confidence. If you read this and do it I would be very grateful, ily^^♡

(Can be fem!reader or g!reader, it doesn't matter, I repeat, if you read it and do it I will thank you for the rest of my life)

hiii!!! first of all thank you so much for trusting me with your request 🫶 this came out a little (a lot) longer than I thought it would but i hope it's still what you expected and that you enjoy it!! any other requests are very welcome ♡ lots of hugs for everyone

✿

"Stop."

You're relieved that your weak attempt, your last resort at trying to get the Unsub to show you mercy, makes him stop in his tracks. You still feel the ghost of the edge of a knife itching against your skin, when it was unclear if he really wanted to hurt you or if it was just an attempt at getting you to break. To get you to spill your most deepest, darkest secrets, the ones hidden within the depths of your heart.

Hidden even from Spencer, who looks at you from (presumably) miles away, through a sketchy live transmission sent to Garcia. Untraceable, of course. He desperately wishes he could just snap his fingers and make it all go away. Every tear, every ache, every whisper of pain. Wants to build a world where you won’t know suffering ever again.

Hotch's voice when he first trained you for what Penelope called 'The Non-Fun Parts of The Job' resonates in your hazy mind. Be aware your surroundings, he said, and you wonder if he might be disappointed on the other side of the camera haphazardly propped up a few feet in front of you, it's red light mocking you with each blink.

"Why are you doing this?" You say, emitting now only a pitiful vestige of your voice which is usually never afraid to speak on anything. It seems amusing to him because seconds later, a cheshire grin blossoms in his face, causing the hair on the back of your neck to stand.

"Oh, you have no idea who I am, do you?" He says. You've never thought a person could inflict so much fear with only a look and a few words. "I don't remember you either, so no hard feelings. But the BAU has... humiliated me. Took everything I love away from me. My family, my job, my friends..." His voice grows low to the point that if you weren't so on edge, you would have to strain your ears to hear him. "They may think getting away for years feels like a reward to me, but they don't live what I live.

Watching the TV waiting for the next time the BAU finally remembers me over the rest of the cases they have to push away to the… dusty corners of their file room because of their incompetency and decides to spread my picture all over the news once again... it's no way to live."

The man's voice is so calm you constantly wait for the other shoe to drop. Like when you're so scared on a rollercoaster and your only option is to close your eyes and wait for the inevitable drop. It doesn't come. It seems like years of inflicting pain on others, and then years of hiding away from the consequences are an upstanding process on how to numb a person.

Spencer sees it too. He sees that this Unsub just won't lose control, and that scares him. Because someone this put together – in a rather bizarre way, wouldn't even bat an eye were he to decide on hurting you. And Spencer would have to watch it all, powerless, scribbling over and over again over his wide map spread out on the conference room's table.

"I'm sorry..." You lie through your teeth. "That you have to live that way."

Fake empathy towards him, Hotch echoes on your head again. You must be reliving his instructions in your head as a way to keep your cool. You bite your lip so hard you fear it might bleed when you realize you're doing it. He's delusional, you reason. He thinks the BAU wanting to catch him for murdering at least 7 couples in public parks is somehow a way to wrong him.

"Well, thank you," he says, a bitter tone bleeding into his words. "But it's not enough. Luckily for you, you know just what to do that will be."

"I don't have any secrets," you confess. Outside of the BAU, you don't have a very interesting life. Go home, say hi to the neighbors in your building, sometimes smile at someone while shopping groceries. No burning, forbidden love affair – mostly because the only candidate you want is endearingly oblivious –, no superhero side quests that would make for an interesting conversation at lunch break with your coworkers. No skeletons in your closet, no secret vices or scandalous secrets that would obliterate your pristine reputation amongst your coworkers. Not even one involving the most important one of them. Of course not.

"I'm sure you do. Everyone does," he circles your chair. You want to sob when you lose sight of him and feel his presence looming on the back of the chair. Not knowing when your life could potentially be taken away from you is jarring.

"I don't," you say. You don't need to use the word 'please' for him to know that you're begging for your life. "I really don't."

Pull yourself together, you think. This is not how a BAU agent must react when faced with a threat. But then again, you've only been here for less than a year, and maybe you just don't have it in you to keep your cool the way the rest of your team would. You take a harsh deep breath.

Spencer has a rather uncanny ability to tune the world out. When he's engrossed in his job, his books, his facts, it's easy to lose himself on them. Specially when the only person who usually listens to him when he externalizes them is away.

Not away, he thinks. That makes it seem like you're taking a vacation. A small voice in the back of his head wonders where would you go if you were given the chance to. Then, he remembers he might never find out if he doesn't figure this out soon. The case has the team's complete and utter attention, and he knows these are some of the best minds in the Bureau. But he still feels like it's his responsibility to figure it out; he can't help but think that it's what it's expected of him. He wonders if that expectation stems from being a prodigy, or because he's so close to you that it only makes sense it would be him.

He feels a rush flowing through his veins when he feels like he's close to figuring it out. Then, he's harshly brought back to the reality where he hogs the conference room's table with his map and the team scatters over the rest of the room, working on who-knows-what, by a series of worrying hurried breaths of yours.

"Okay, okay!" You say, when he roughly yanks you by the hair to keep you still. The knife you thought was previously discarded hovers over your ear.

"One clean slash, and you'll be out like a light."

You don't find it in yourself to want to test the veracity of that theory out.

So you realize your only shot at getting out of here might be giving him what he wants. You can't stall anymore, and one side of your brain tells you that it's your team, they'll get here in time, and the other asks itself if that might be a thing that just happens in unrealistic crime shows.

"I..." You start. You wonder if Spencer is watching this. You would rather have every agent in the FBI hear this, all 35,000 of them, instead of him. You whimper when the knife inches closer to your skin. You can't die. Not here. Is keeping your perception of dignity worth losing your life? "I like my coworker."

It doesn't satisfy the Unsub. "Which one?"

You want to refuse to answer, to curl into a ball and cry until you recover the false sense of confidence you walk around with that has now been shattered. You'll get it back, eventually. Not if you die. So you toughen it up, and breathe deep. "Spencer."

It sounds so stupid. A mere speck in the grand scheme of things, of problems and situations anyone would expect an FBI agent to have. But it's the hardest thing you've ever had to say.

And it's the hardest thing he's ever had to hear. If it were in any other situation, he wouldn't have put it past him to jump in glee. You, with your head always held high, never one to shy away from showing who you were to the world, with your gentle soul that lured him in even when he tried to keep his heart safe from rejection... You liked him. But that's not his focus right now. Even if every single train of thought in his brain has come to a catastrophic halt, he has to focus, because he can't take one more second of seeing you trying to keep calm with a knife to your throat.

A picture of Hannah Davis, one of the victims from the original case, hung up on the wall behind you ends up giving the Unsub's whole act away. Still, it doesn't make a lot of sense for Hannah to have hung up a picture of herself in her own house, so the team splits to cover both the boyfriend's house and Hannah's.

It's just a precautionary measure. Spencer knows exactly where you are.

"Oh, Dr. Reid. Idiots interrogated me about once or twice as a witness and he was a real boom with the ladies at the precinct back then. Let me tell you, if I had his charm, I wouldn't have had to resort to killing couples to get off."

The Unsub lets go of your hair with no warning and your head hangs down as if you were a rag doll. You find it in yourself to hum uninterestedly at his sick attempt of joking.

You don't think you've ever felt your heart beating as hard as it is right now. And when you tune out the sound of the man talking and rambling about God knows what, you realize that the thumping you hear in your ears isn't your heart. That maybe the creaking on the stairs isn't a product of your delirious mind conjuring up a sequence where you magically get saved from the bad guy.

You sigh when the man behind you yanks you back again. This time, you feel the need to put on a facade. Make it look like you’ve come to terms with it; if this is how you go, then so be it. The knife on your throat makes your heart rate pick back up, but you don't whimper. You wonder if you're trying to keep it together for yourself or because you are ashamed of the image your team will have of you after this if you don't.

You hear Morgan kick the door down. Usually, you're on the other side of this. You help talk an Unsub down, and then make fun of Morgan after for kicking the door instead of opening it like a civilized FBI agent. Talking them down doesn't always work. Sometimes, you end up with another casualty added to the case. In the worst outcome, you end up with two more. You're not as unafraid as you thought. Please, God, you think. This cannot be the end.

Morgan screaming at the Unsub to put the knife down falls in deaf ears. It's only white noise to you now, and maybe that stems from the fact that you have been held hostage for what felt like days with no food, no water, no sun, and you feel so close to it being over. Soon, you'll be on a hospital bed, eating food that only the thought of makes you feel nauseated but even that is better than this. Maybe Spencer will sneak you a treat. Or maybe that's wishful thinking.

As you're dwelling on what the consequences of him potentially hearing your confession might be, you hear a gun go off. You don't even react when the pressure exerted on the right side of your neck, the weight of the arm holding you in place suddenly fades away as your head falls forward.

You hear the thud of a body hit the ground. Maybe we can still be friends, you try to reason. Spencer drops his smoking gun to a side as Morgan tries to untie your hands behind your back. Maybe he'll reciprocate, or is that too much of a delusion to have even in your incoherent state? Spencer holds you in his arms when you have nothing pushing you back against the chair anymore.

"I'm sorry," you sob into his shoulder, not an ounce of strength remaining in your body. You were not made for this. Not made for withstanding this kind of torment. If you mean the torment of being kidnapped, or the torment that awaits you once you're not hysterically sobbing in front of the man you're not ready to admit you love, you're not sure. "I'm so sorry."

"Hey," he says, tenderly. You don't know how much time it's gone by since the last time you saw him. The only thing you know is that this kind of gentleness is now unfamiliar after harsh hands engraved themselves all over you. "Hey, it's okay. What are you sorry for?"

"I'm sorry," you say, worn out, the words echoing around your head like a DVD screensaver. You then register his question. "For saying that."

You don't specify what. It's not necessary; it never has been with Spencer. Somehow, you both know exactly what the other means, with just a glance, a brush of an arm when somehow you find yourself trapped in his orbit once again.

"It's alright," is it? Part of him wonders if being with you might have become even more unattainable now than it was before. If you'll push him away because the memory of the circumstances of your confession is too painful to bear. His hand hovers in the air before he finds a moment where he feels like you won't get up and run away from him if he touches you. You shudder, but ultimately stay right where you are. "Don't cry. You're okay."

Are we okay? You have to ask. But maybe right now is not the moment. Maybe right now all you want is to be held before everything goes down the drain. You've hit rock bottom, and everyone probably sees it too. Spencer just wishes you find it in your heart to let him be the one to help you out of there. You don't need to yell for help if you have him – the most minuscule mutter of your burdens will be enough to have him snapping into action. He knows what it's like to give every sign that you could ever think of and still have them ignored. He isn't about to let you go through that.

"We're going to go home now, yeah?" You nod. When you come to it, your fingers ache from holding onto his shirt so hard you want to apologize to him in case you had hurt him. You don't find the words. The rise and fall of his chest had lulled you into the deepest, calmest sleep you have managed to get in a while, even before the kidnapping happened at all, and in this moment, you almost swear that it'll all be okay.

When you wake up, there's a steady hold in your hand as the ambulance rocks back and forth.

"God, they need to get that street fixed," you say. You don't recognize your voice, the rasp in your throat being the only thing to confirm that it is indeed you speaking. It takes you a moment to realize that the hand that holds yours firmly is Spencer's.

You'd be lying if you said you weren't scared to look at him. What would his expression be like? Disgust? Perhaps Morgan made him ride with you until they got to the ambulance. Perhaps he offered to do so because he wanted to do something nice for you before he completely tore your heart to shreds by saying he doesn't like you back. Perhaps-

"We're almost there." The way his voice manages to shut every deprecating thought in your head should be studied. As a reflex, you turn your head to look at him. You wish you hadn't, because the way he looks at you like you're a masterpiece – a rather flawed one, even if he doesn't think so, isn't helping the ache in your chest. Your first thought is that it's awe, but then you think you might want to get that get that checked out when you get to the hospital.

You barely notice his hand shifting around yours, until it holds your wrist, his thumb pressed softly but firm against your pulse point. He can probably feel the way your heart quickens when he leans in to take a look at your face.

"Does the light hurt your eyes?" You nod, sluggishly. He turns over to look at the paramedic who sits next to you. You feel a little bit of relief at the fact that no one's hovering over you. It means you're okay. It's all minor. And mostly psychological. Spencer starts listing studies and tests they apparently need to run on you, and while you love the way he rambles, you don't think you can keep up with him without getting a stroke in the process right now.

You doze off again. God, you needed that. You hadn't closed your eyes for more than a couple of seconds during all of your stay in that house. Stay. You don't know what else to call it.

Emily stayed with you while they checked you out and in her words, it was like you were moving on autopilot. It was unnerving, but the doctors had informed her that there was nothing wrong besides a couple of nasty bruises you would have to spend extra concealer on.

Spencer offered to stay overnight. One can only imagine how unsettling it was for him to lift his head from his book to see you sitting up like a spring at 2:45 am.

"Hi," he says, his voice a hushed breath as he sits on the edge of your bed, smiling awkwardly at you. There's no one else in the room, but it's like if any of you speaks louder than a whisper, the bubble you're in will burst. Your chest heaves with hurried breaths, and you rub your eyes.

"Hey." You're already dreading this conversation. Is there any way to go back to before you were kidnapped and forced to confess you're in love with your best friend/coworker? Anyhow, you don't want to stay in the dark anymore and hurry to speak directly to the point. "I don't want things to be weird between us."

"We haven't even talked for a minute, what do you mean?"

You let out a short, humorless laugh, which could be easily just interpreted as a hum. You scramble over the clutter that is your mind right now to find a topic that will help you evade the awkwardness. "... Why are you still awake?"

He didn't expect you to ask that, if the way his gaze drifts to the side is anything to go by.

"The book was very... interesting, to say the least," he blatantly lies. You don't know if he's a bad liar or if you're just an expert in the Spencer Reid sciences.

"I'm sure it was."

You don't speak for a minute. A minute and 33 seconds, he counts, and you're heading strong for a second one when his voice breaks the uncomfortable atmosphere.

"Listen, I..."

"I know you heard it." Everyone probably did. And it'll be less humiliating if you act like you don't wish you could just crawl out of your skin and hide. "I'm sorry. I just didn't want to die."

"I'm glad you said it."

You don't know if he's glad you said it because otherwise you would have probably bled out before they even got to the house or because the fog that used to sit atop of whatever weird tension you both seemed to develop whenever you were the last ones in the conference room, paired to interview a witness, or sharing the big couch on the jet, is finally cleared up.

You can't lie and say you're not relieved you did, too.

"I'm glad too," you say, mostly to yourself. Where do you go from here? Spencer knows a lot of things, none of which seem useful at the moment. He's almost tempted to bring Morgan in for moral support; otherwise, he's about to perform the worst ridicule he's ever had the pleasure to star in.

You wait for him to speak. He doesn't, and instead stares at the bedsheets that look like their sole existence is an offense by the way his brow creases.

"You look like something's bothering you," you say, tentatively testing the waters. Can you already joke with him, or is it too soon to pretend like everything's okay? "Is it not a nice pattern?"

He smiles for a split second. You didn't realize the air had been lacking from your lungs until this very second. "The pattern is geometrically off. If you look at it closely, you'll see that the diamonds aren't quite aligned properly. It seems minor, yet it's still evident enough to unconsciously make the pattern less appealing to the eyes. I suppose that's what you get with mass-produced and machine-made products nowadays."

You smile warmly at him. Only then it's that your chest tightens as the realization of just how much you missed just hearing him talk about things that would have never even crossed your mind in a thousand years, dawns upon you.

"Sorry. I forgot my magnifying glass at home."

"I see you didn't left the wit back there." You smile at him. It feels foreign. Just a second ago you were avoiding looking at him like the mere action of doing so would make you burst into flames on the spot. Your smile is like fuel for the burning courage consuming his insides as he opens his mouth again. "I... I think- No, sorry. I mean, I am certain that..." Okay, Spencer. Great way to start. He tries to gather his thoughts, which proves to be a much harder challenge when they're all a jumbled mess.

"You like your coworker too?"

"Yeah," he says. His lips curl into a warm, genuine smile that does wonders at speaking of the deep affection that harbors in the depths of his soul. One only reserved for you. He's quick to repress it because he doesn't want to seem stupid.

You don't let him throw you off your feet. "Dr. Reid, can you wait until I don't feel and look like a bus just ran over me to confess your unconditional and undying love for me?"

He wouldn't have expected a different answer from you. The confidence you wear on the outside is a mask for the way he makes you melt like a bar of chocolate in warm weather on the inside. You don't need him to answer to that. He touches your hair, and you turn to look at the bag of skittles placed on the bedside table, and you know he'll gladly wait until you don't feel like you've been stripped of all your defenses. Until you feel like yourself again.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader

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youngies-bae · 27 days

Text

Day & Night

𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴/𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: ʜᴏɴɢᴊᴏᴏɴɢ x ғᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

𝘈𝘜/𝘛𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘐𝘯𝘧𝘰 & 𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: ᴘʀᴇᴅᴇʙᴜᴛ ᴀᴜ, ғᴏᴏᴅ, sᴍᴀʟʟ ʙᴜʀɴ.

𝘎𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦 & 𝘙𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨: ᴘɢ, ғʟᴜғғ

𝘞/𝘊:

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴊᴏᴏɴɢ ᴏɴ ᴀ ʟɪʟ ᴅᴀᴛᴇ

𝘛𝘢𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵: @minkilicious

𝘐𝘯𝘴𝘱𝘰:

𝘈/𝘯: this was short n easy to write jus kinda wanted to put sum out there. Not proof read btw.

Hongjoong looked around while holding onto your hand, “you sure this place is hidden?”

You giggle at him softly, “Joong nobody’s gonna record you… you haven’t even debuted yet.”

Hongjoong was worried about loosing his job as a trainiee at KQ Entertainment. He tried to be extra careful, he never broke any rules except for one, the dating ban.

He’s wearing a hat that covers his face a little bit, although you’re not sure if it’s to hide though Hongjoong almost always wears a hat.

Hongjoong let’s go of your hand for a second to open the door for you, “thank you.”

“Anytime” he replies smiling and flashing his perfect set of teeth. His smile is one of your favorite things about him.

“Hello!! Y/n, it’s great to see you again! How have you been?” The owner of the restaurant recognized you immediately, you had came here everyday after school. You love it, the food is amazing and it’s quite hidden, there aren’t many people that have ate here.

She walked you to an empty table and had set two menus down.

“It’s about time that you brought someone here, who is this boy?” She asks with a warm, welcoming smile.

You smile at her and introduce the boy that sat in front of you to her, “this is Hongjoong, my boyfriend.”

He smiled hearing you call him that, you both haven’t been dating for too long but had known each other for a long time. You both weren’t very close though despite knowing each other since elementary school.

He had liked you for a while and finally decided to confess when his friends pushed him hard enough. Luckily for him you had felt the same way.

The very nice lady raised her eyes slightly and smiled ever bigger, “it’s about danm time. I’ve been waiting for you to get a boyfriend and bring him here for quite some time now. You’re such a sweet girl plus you’re beautiful. I knew that it wouldn’t be long before you got a boyfriend.”

Hongjoong giggled at her comments, he definitely agreed. You are very sweet and kind, maybe a little too sweet even. You sure are beautiful too, the most beautiful girl he had laid eyes on.

“Anyways I’ll let you two be, are you ready to order yet? Or have you decided on any drinks?”

“I know what I want, I’m not sure about him though.” You had said.

She pans her head to him, “yeah, I am ready actually. May I please order Rose Tteokbokki and to drink can I have a sprite?”

She nods her head and writes his order down then looks at you, “I want pork ramen, dragon roll sushi as an appetizer and to drink may I have a Thai Tea with boba?”

She looks down at her paper and writes your order before leaving to the kitchen.

“So what do you think so far?” You ask the man sitting across from you.

“Hmm, she’s really nice. It’s also really cosy in here, feels safe and comfortable.” He explains.

You nod your head agreeing.

As you look at him for a moment you remember how much you had loved what he had wore today. A black cap, a black short sleeved shirt with some writing on it, grey sweats and on his feet were Jordan 1’s Mid Light Smoke Grey.

Not only did you love his outfit he loved yours. You wore a comfortable but clean fit that looked amazing on you, it was very appropriate for the casual date you two were on currently.

You and Hongjoongs head snaps to the entrance of the restaurant as you both see a very attractive man had walked in, Hongjoong looks away instead his eyes are now on you, your eyes stayed on the man a little longer than he had liked.

“Is his ass fat?” You furrow your eyebrows at your boyfriend’s strange question.

“What…?”

“You looked at him for a while I’m sure something had to have caught your eye.” Hongjoong pursed his lips holding them tightly together and smiling slightly while raising his eyebrows.

“Uh. Not to much, don’t act like you don’t be watching edits of Camila Cabello 24/7.”

Hongjoong sighs in defeat.

“Here you are,” the nice lady from before had set down both of your bowls of food in front of you, your appetizer in the middle and both your drinks on the side.

“Thank you”. You both had said in sync.

The food looks amazing, you and he had thought. No matter how many times you come here, you could never get tired of it. It’s one of those things that it’s so good that you can’t get bored of it.

Hongjoong immediately tried to take a bite but instead he had burned his tongue, “oh shit.”. He drops his chopsticks into the Tteokbokki making it splash and burn his eye a little.

“Are you okay?” You ask as soon as he reacted. You stand up a little pushing the table forwards slightly.

You grab a napkin and clean his face off gently. After your done you sit back down in your seat.

“Thanks.” He says giggling at himself a little.

“You have to blow it, it’s very hot.” You say to him instructively.

He nods and starts eating carefully blowing on his food before every bite.

You both had ate your food peacefully savoring every bite, you had shared your sushi with him. He loved it, liked it more than the Tteokbokki honestly.

The boba you had ordered was also amazing.

“Bye!! Come again!” The lady said kindly with a big smile.

“I will.” You smile back at her.

“Oh I know you will, but I was talking to your boyfriend here.” Hongjoongs eyes widened at the mention of himself.

“I’ll come again for sure. The food was amazing. Matter of fact next time she comes I’ll be with her.” He promises.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

They all nod.

Hongjoong takes your hand and walks you to the door opening it for you, walking out along side you.

“Glad you had fun.”

“I’d have fun doing anything with you.”

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez fic #ateez fluff #hongjoong #hongjoong x reader #kim hongjoong #kim hongjoong fanfic #hongjoong fanfic #hongjoong fluff

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nohoney · 1 year

Text

Bakugou would listen to you rant all about work. Even though he’s the one out on the streets with more exciting stories to tell, one of his favorite things is to hear you talk about your own work. He follows and nods along with whatever work story you have for him for the day, always attentive but never telling you what you should do to handle it (as he had learned from a prior relationship).

“I can tell he fuckin’ hates me, you know?” You continue on about your current work events as you sit on the countertop and watch Bakugou cut vegetables, “He keeps on bringing up my old manager as if she has anything to do with it now. Like, no motherfucker! You answer to me now and I’m saying pay your stupid invoice!”

The vegetables for dinner are set aside while the oven is still preheating. Two pieces of pork chop are taken from the fridge and is set aside on a clean plate as Bakugou looks for spices to rub into the meat. “So what happened baby? Did he pay? Y’said you were dealing with this for almost two weeks.” He asks you, genuinely curious if your annoying client is actually complying with you. The thought in his head is wondering how you handled it.

“I have to read you this email that I wrote. I gotta say the professional ways of dissing someone in email is something I finally understand now.” You laugh as you pull up your work email on your phone. Word for word you read out your well thought out response to your difficult client, not backing down and upholding work policy as you are expected to. Bakugou had never really bothered with any type of skill of being professional through communication in his job; it’s what his team is for while he gets the really privilege to cuss as he pleases and have his team handle it for the public. “Here is how I signed off, I think it’s probably my most eloquent and business-like ‘fuck you’ I’ve written so far.”

You clear your throat first before reading aloud, “‘I hope that the explanations of how to navigate your account has cleared up any confusion you may have and that you are able to move forward in compliance with our company policy, if you have any further questions then please let me know.’ God I know he’s going to hate me as soon as he reads it!”

He chuckles, happy that you know how to stand your ground in such a manner that Bakugou knows he struggles in. “You tell him, baby.”

“I fucking did Katsuki!” You boast with a proud little smile as you hop off the countertop and go to his side as he heats oil in a pan. “Sorry, I’ve been going on about this annoying client for a while. I wanna hear about your work today Tsuki.”

Bakugou shakes his head though and urges you to talk about what else happened at your work. The meat sizzles as he presses it into the pan, crackling and sizzling in a way that’s reminiscent of his quirk but to a much lower degree. The oven beeps to indicate that preheating is finished and you move to put all the vegetables into the glass pan and stick it in for him, already setting a timer before he can even ask. “What about that other guy? The one who keeps on saying that he’s getting investors so he wants to make you wait a little longer?” He asks you when he recalls another client you complained of a few days ago.

You excitedly pop off about your work again, unknowing how you calm Bakugou down with your own work stories. Your series of responsibilities that he wouldn’t know the first clue how to handle are interesting to him to hear how you handle yourself. It’s simple compared to what he does but in no way is it easy either. To see you struggle sometimes with your own career wasn’t easy for him but you were also strong enough to handle it all the same.

And he liked to think that he made it easy for you to handle because he wanted to hear anything and everything about your job that’s so different from his. “Tell me about the parking permits, did that get solved yet?” He asks as he starts to set food on the plates.

“No! I’m on week three of dealing with it and it’s ridiculous! I sent everything in so early and they deal with it so late!!”

Bakugou listens with a happy heart to hear you talk, never wanting you to apologize over the things that frustrate you. And by the end of your rants, even he feels a little lighter as he readies to get in bed with you.

And the next day as he’s just about to enter a meeting in his agency, Bakugou gets a text from you.

[1:57 pm] omg i need to tell you what this mofo emailed me when we’re home

He looks forward to it, letting a little smile come onto his face. He can see you all cute and puffed up and mad, and he can’t wait to hear about it.

[1:58 pm] can’t wait baby. love you.

You text him back within seconds.

[1:58 pm] love you!!!

Bakugou can’t wait to be home and listen to you.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou fluff

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thecuriousbeauty · 3 months

Text

Traitor-The Present

Chapter 1

Synopsis:y/n is a hard working painter, trying to make the ends meet. She lives with and takes care of her sick Uncle, the only one she has for a family. She has dreams to make it big, and when the desperation for money strikes, she has to make a choice. Walk away after listening to an incredible deal that would fix all her problems, or take up the deal. A top secret, risky deal, which involves meeting Harry Styles.A man once rumored to be a dangerous secret weapon of a leading mafia. artist!y/n x mafia!harry (he's also a doctor)

Word Count: 3601

Author's note: This chapter is just a start to what I hope will be a very interesting thriller. This is my fan first fiction, but I've made sure that it's all planned out properly for you guys. Warnings will be mentioned at the beginning of every chapter. Please re blog to support me if you like it! Next chapter will be up very soon:)

Warnings: Talks about mafia, gold smuggling, accident.

___________________________________________

"Ms. y/l/n, this is the second time I'm calling you, I'm afraid I cannot wait longer. I may have to-"

y/n closes her eyes, bringing her index and thumb finger to squeeze at the skin of the bridge of her nose. "No, no! Mr. Timothy please give me some time, I promise I'll send everything I owe you, just give me some time."

She was due on her rent on the little place she and her uncle call as home.

"I can't give you any more time, Miss. By tomorrow 8 pm, or I'll have you evicted.", Mr. Timothy told her on the phone.

"Yes, um thank you." y/n sighs as she keeps her phone on the table, and looks around at the mess of her living room. It was a small flat, with a decent living room, a comfortable couch, a TV where her uncle usually spends away the day when she's out working, and two bedrooms.

Her phone beeped, with an alarm to make sure her uncle took her medicines, and she walked to his bedroom. He was resting on the bed, back supported by a pillow as he read a book. He loves books on underworld mysteries and mafias. She never gets it.

"Uncle Luke, it's time for your meds.", she says.

From the time she remembers, y/n was raised by her uncle. She doesn't remember having a father, or a mother, she only has her Uncle Luke to call as family. Whenever she asked him about her family, he would stroke her hair and tell her that no one realized how special she was.

She loved her uncle, he was her father figure. Uncle Luke got diagnosed with Alzheimer's a few months back, and he had to retire from his job as a librarian. Sometimes, he appears completely normal. y/n's heart breaks when she sees the painful expression on her uncle's face as he tries to remember something that shouldn't have been that difficult to remember.

"I took them.", her uncle smiles at her, lifting his eyes from the book. "Are you okay? You seem stressed."

She smiles for his sake, nodding. "Just tired. You need anything?"

Uncle Luke shakes his head, before taking her hand. "Is it money? I can help you out, go back to my job-"

"-No, Uncle Luke, I got it.", y/n squeezes his hand. "I just need you to rest up and be okay. I'm gonna try and squeeze in another job, I'll work something out. I've gotta go now."

Uncle Luke nods, gently ruffling her hair. "Off you go, y/n."

"See you in the evening!"

y/n rushes out the door, and takes the train to the cafe. She doesn't work as a barista, the cafe wanted someone to paint beautiful pictures on the canvas while their customers enjoyed their service. The Golden Cup cafe was a beautiful place. Covered with greenery, sweet smelling flowers and little tables around.

y/n set up her canvas, paints and brushes. "Morning.", her best friend Sania nudges her elbow. Sania works as a server in the same cafe, and they have been best friends since the first day they met.

"Good morning. It's not good though, I hope yours was good.", y/n rambles, stressed about her desperate need for money.

"Woah, what happened?", Sania asks watching her mix a few colors onto her palate. y/n tells her about the rent problems, and Sania nods understandingly. She also had her debt issues, but recently, she was doing well. y/n thought her rough patch would also be over soon, but she had no hope now.

"I can set you up an appointment with the people I was talking about.", Sania tells her, and it gains her attention. "They can help you."

"I don't want to do anything illegal Sania-"

"-No, it's not illegal. It's off charts, but you're gonna get money in exchange for a task they assign you. It's simple!"

"That task may involve illegal activities.", y/n shakes her head. Last thing she needed was to go to jail, leaving her uncle all alone.

"No, it won't. Come on y/n, they helped me.", Sania smiles at another coworker, and lowers her voice. "You don't even have to agree immediately, you can decide and get back to them. This job isn't going to be enough to make ends meet and you know that. Think about it."

"Sania take table 4 please!"

"Yes.", Sania nodded at y/n. "I have to get back to work."

y/n also had to get to work, she smiled at the customers before putting her brush to the canvas. She doesn't decide on what to paint. She just lets the inspiration take over. The customers watched in awe as her hand moved skillfully, without an effort. y/n didn't think about her problems when she painted. When she painted, she was in her own world where everything was alright. That was why her paintings all turned out extraordinary.

She talked to the customers who came up to her. During her break, she sat with her cold mint lemon tea and thought about everything Sania said. She was right, she needed the money. Just talking with them wouldn't hurt would it?

She approached Sania later on that day. "I'll um, I'll talk to them."

"Good! I'll set you up a meeting tonight.", Sania smiled and gave her a side hug. "The choice will be yours babe, to take up the offer or not."

y/n looks around nervously as Sania leads her through an alleyway. It was a sketchy place. There were no people around.

"Are you sure this is the right place?", y/n whispers.

"Yes.", Sania holds her hand. "They like to be discreet."

"Why? Because of their illegal businesses?"

"Stel. I don't know if they have illegal businesses or not, but they won't involve you in anything like that. There, that's the building. Third floor."

"You're not coming with me?", y/n asks as she stares up at the tall building. It looked musty and old. Much like a haunted house.

"No, but I'll wait for you in the car, okay?", Sania says and y/n sighs, wondering if this was a bad idea. "You'll be fine.", Sania assures.

y/n nods, and goes inside the building. She took the elevator, and waited until it got to the third floor. The building didn't look as bad inside.

"y/n, y/l/n?", a man asks. He was tall, clad in a black shirt and black pants. He had an AirPod in his right ear, an expensive watch on his left arm.

"Yes.", y/n answers and the man nods, before walking towards the end of the hallway. y/n assumed she was supposed to follow him so she did. They stopped at a room, and he opened it, stepping aside for her to enter. "Please."

The door closed behind her as she entered the room. She noticed the velvety purple couch in the middle of the room, where a bold looking woman sat. Neat white blouse tucked into dark red pants, along with red heels and red lipstick coating her lips made her look like the boss. She was the only one sitting, the other two men were leaning against a table, and the other was looking outside the window, not paying attention to her. They wore similar clothes to the man who brought her here.

The woman looks her down, her dark brown eyes trying to stare into her soul. Her short hair was sleeked back.

"Miss y/l/n, please take a seat.", she gave her a smile, but y/n knew it wasn't a warm smile, it was more like a challenging smile.

"Thanks." y/n sits on the chair in front of the woman. "I am Romania Pelt, nice to meet you.", the woman said, no shake of hands.

"I guess you already know my name.", y/n replies nervously.

"Come on Hans, where are your manners? Ask our guest if she'd like something to drink.", Romania looks at the man leaning on the table and staring at y/n.

"Anything to drink?", he promptly asks.

"Um, mint lemon ice tea?", y/n blurts out nervously, and the man smirks in amusement, before turning around and fixing her a water. "Water will do too, thank you.", y/n takes a sip, and keeps the water on the table, before keeping her hands on her lap.

"So Miss y/l/n, we know about the trouble you're in and we want to help you out.", Romania tells her.

"If you want to help me out, I have to do something for you. Let me tell you, I will not take part in anything involving illegal issues like drug dealing, or sexual favors for anyone.", y/n put it out.

"Okay.", Romania nods. "Anything else?"

"You know illegal includes dealing with unauthorized guns, stealing, trespassing-"

"We're aware what illegal covers.", Romania cuts her off, and the man chuckles like she was funny. "You're right about doing us a favor. Let me tell you about it."

y/n nods. "We have a big business, all around the world. We do a lot of things, which involves a lot of side operations.", Romania said in a way y/n wouldn't know what the things were. "But now we're at a little bit of a loss."

"I um can't help you with business.", y/n murmurs.

"I know. But you can help us bring back our main player."

y/n raises an eyebrow as Romania continued. "He was our leader. He was the best at everything. Masterplans, hacking, leading our opponents into traps. He was mainly in charge of the gold smuggling. One night when he was travelling with the gold along with his partner, something happened between them. All we know is that there was a blast, and his partner died. The gold was gone too."

"He didn't die?", y/n asked.

"No.", Romania smiled. "Harry Styles does not go down easily."

Harry Styles. y/n liked the story but she didn't like what she was going to hear. "In the blast, Harry suffered a severe head injury. He was in a coma for a while, but he came back. Unfortunately, he doesn't remember anything that happened.", Romania said. "He has forgotten everything about his past life. We know it must have scared him deeply, losing his partner. She was his lover. Reagan Jones. She was the only one in our unit who was just as good as Harry. They both were literally, a power couple."

y/n felt bad for the guy. "When Reagan died, Harry permanently lost a piece of him too. Not a small piece. A large part of his past life."

"W-What's he doing now?", y/n asks.

"He is a doctor.", Romania says. "Only we knew him as who he was. On the outside he maintained an image as our Doctor. He remembers about being a doctor, so that's how he's leading a living now. Everyone knew about Reagen and not to mess with her, but Harry was our secret weapon, and we need him back. We've given him enough time to sulk about Reagen. It was unfortunate, and we all hate that we lost her but we need Harry back in his bearings."

"What do you want me to do about that?", y/n asks confused.

"You need to befriend him.", Romania says. "Talk to him, get to know him. We heard from Sania that you love talking, and you're great with customers. So do your thing. Eventually, we need you to ask him about what happened that night, what really went wrong, where is the gold?"

"You just said he doesn't remember."

Romania and Hans smile, even the man who was looking outside the window up until now and ignoring y/n, now turns around. "You are going to make him remember.", he said in his gruff voice.

"I'm not a brain surgeon!", y/n scoffed out a laugh. Who do these people think she is?

"We think Harry remembers everything. But he is putting on a show, a mask, to hide whatever he knows. He knows something huge, that's why he does not want to come back to his old life. We need to crack his shell somehow. We've all tried y/n, but someone like you is who we need. Do whatever you need to do, but please, you have to make him remember." Romania had a desperation to her voice now. "Oliver, please."

The bearded gruff man Oliver, pulls out a wad of cash. "Thirty thousand dollars, you can take this now, if you accept our deal."

y/n's eyes widens at the cash. "It's not black, it's real money.", Romania assures. "And on completion of the task, we will give you the rest. Five hundred thousand dollars in total."

"W-Why would you pay me so much?"

"Because this is important to us. We need Harry back.", Oliver says slowly. "I need my best friend back."

Hans pats his arm like he was offering the man comfort. "You'll have to report to me weekly, and you get four weeks to make him remember.", Romania says.

"Four weeks?!", y/n was surprised. How can she make a man remember things he doesn't want to remember in four weeks?

"You can do it.", Romania tells her. "Let me show you his picture. Hans?"

Hans nodded and handed y/n a photo. "That's him. The most wanted man. By now, our opponents also know about Harry. They knew Reagan alone couldn't carry off what she did. So Harry has a lot of people wishing him dead. They don't want to risk him remembering and going back to the person he was."

y/n looked at the photo of the man as the thoughts ran in her mind. A man who lost his lover, and lost his memory. Now he's living without knowing that he is a live target for the big thugs. He was handsome, y/n thought. Luscious brown hair, styled neatly, a little and his green eyes were so deep, like they held a forest inside them. This was the person she was supposed to befriend.

"You can take your time to think about it, give me a call by tomorrow.", Romania slides her card over to y/n. "Nice talking to you, Miss y/l/n."

"I'll escort you outside.", Hans says, and y/n understand that they're done talking to her.

_____________________________________________________________

"Well he's a handsome man, Reagan must have been lucky.", Uncle Luke says as y/n shows him the photo of Harry and tells him the story. y/n shared everything with Uncle Luke. Sania was her best friend, but she still didn't share some things with her that she would with Uncle Luke.

"Well she's dead.", y/n mumbles. "What do you think?"

"This man must be important.", Uncle Luke says, and y/n nods. "If they're willing to pay so much just in return for his memory."

"What if he doesn't want to remember Uncle Luke?", y/n asks softly. "Reagen died. That must have scarred him deeply. Maybe there's something more to it. Maybe someone attacked them and he couldn't save her. He must be in pain, that's why his mind is shutting it all off."

"Don't get personal, darling.", Uncle Luke advises. "We don't know what kind of a man Harry was, so don't feel for him. Your job is just to befriend him and make him remember."

"I'm too curious to let this go now.", y/n says. "I only read about mafias in novels! I told Sania they were real."

"Mafia?", Uncle Luke laughs. "You confirmed they're mafia?"

"Of course. Business, she said. So secretive! You had to see the building and all the men.", y/n laughs too. "You're right, I won't get personal. I just need the money. Maybe we can get out of this town sooner than we thought, Uncle Luke."

Her uncle smiles, patting her hand as he closes her eyes. "Reena said she'll come over for dinner."

y/n's smile freezes as she hears that. Reena was Uncle Luke's daughter, she had died in a fire. She hates when the disease does this. Uncle Luke had early onset Alzheimer's, so it wasn't as bad as him not being able to recognize her. But she still hated it.

"I'll make her favorite pasta.", y/n whispers, fluffing his pillow. "You get some rest, Uncle Luke. I love you."

She had to get him the best care. He took care of her all her life. She took the card, and called Romania.

"Miss y/l/n, good to hear from you.", Romania's voice says.

"I'll do it.", y/n said before she could change her mind. "I'll bring his memories back."

___________________________________________

She decided to go with the classic method of meeting first. Go out for drinks. y/n wasn't a big drinker, most of the time. She wasn't going to drink too much today, she wanted to be sober enough to remember everything she got out of the man.

Romania sent her the details of the hospital in which Harry worked, and told her that he goes to the bar down the street after his working hours sometimes. y/n hoped this would be one day like that, as she set out to the bar. y/n wore a chrome yellow fluffy, silky top along with her jeans and heels. She let her hair out.

She looked around the bar as she entered, not spotting her target. She decided to wait.

"What would you like, ma'am? New here?", the bartender smiles at her.

"Uh yes, first time here." She skims through the names of the drinks.

"First drink on the house. I'll get you our special cocktail?", he asks.

"Okay!"

Anything on the house sounded amazing.

"I'll be right back.", he winks at her and goes away. y/n turned on her chair to continue scanning the crowd. The bartender was cute, but she had stuff to do.

Her drink came faster than Harry, and she was disappointed he wouldn't come to the bar that night when she finally saw him.

The photo didn't do justice. Harry Styles stood tall, six feet two at least, she thought. His stubble had grown out, and his hair had curls peeking out. Sharp cheekbones that could slice through skin and strong shoulders that hid beneath his light blue shirt.

He appeared stressed as he ran a hand through his hair, and sat on the empty chair a few seats away from her. "Usual.", he nodded at the bartender, who got to making his drink right away. y/n watched him roll his shirt sleeves back, and sit with his head on his hands. He must have had a rough day.

Then he lifted his head up suddenly and looked straight at her, like he knew she had been watching him. Their eyes connected for a second, before he looked away.

y/n felt a shiver up her spine.

That was close, y/n breathed as she sipped the concoction.

She waited until he had drowned a drink, of what looked like whiskey, before she made her move.

She gave him her best smile as she took the seat next to him. "Hi, rough day?"

He didn't spare her a look, but he grunted in reply.

Very polite.

"I had a rough day too.", y/n goes on. "Being an artist isn't easy. Sometimes it's hard to get into the creative head space. I had some decisions to make today, and that interfered with my work."

"Artist?", his voice was smooth and deep.

"Yes. I paint.", she answers. "What do you do?"

"ER Doctor.", he looks at her with those eyes looking like they were brimming a storm behind them. "I like art."

"You do? You should come to the cafe sometime, then.", y/n says, treading on careful steps.

"I don't get time to take a stroll into a cafe.", Harry scoffs, taking a big gulp of his drink.

"Your job is difficult.", y/n agrees. "Do you like being a doctor?"

Harry tilts his head to study her. "Yes."

y/n waited for him to say something more, but he didn't. Great. He does love talking.

"What do you like about art?", she asks. That, she could talk about.

"The colors.", he answers, looking away from her again. "They have a hidden meaning, most of the time. The artist might not even have an idea when they start, but it turns out beautiful when they're done. Like they gave life to it."

That was the most he had told her since they started talking, and Stella smiled at his description. "I have a small studio too, you should stop by when you have time, Doctor-"

"Turner.", he completes. "Harry Turner."

Either he changed his last name, or he doesn't remember. y/n offers her hand to shake. "y/n, y/l/n."

He nods, and she feels the rough callouses of his fingers as it brushes hers. His hand was warm, and she liked the feel of it on hers. It made her feel safe. Why did it make her feel like that? Why did she feel like it was a familiar hand?

Chapter Two

194 notes · View notes

yoonia · 11 months

Text

come undone | myg (m)

⟶ Summary | As a reward for Yoongi taking you to the trip of a lifetime and away from your busy lives, you decided to surprise him with a special treatment to help him relax and for the two of you to bond as a couple. What you never expected was for him to show you a different kind of pleasure through it in return.

⟶ Title | Come Undone ⟶ Pairings | Min Yoongi x female reader ⟶ Genre | Established relationship!au, Mature, Smut ⟶ Word count | 14,625 words

⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; brief mention of alcohol consumption, swearing, contains explicit scenes, including mud bath (which involves…mud), mud play, Yoongi tries to prank OC by dunking her into the mud, nudity, dirty talk, soft dom/switch!Yoongi, sub/switch/brat!reader, Yoongi may have an odd fascination on her feet, fingering, clit play, breast play, mentions of bondage, restraint (mild), sensory play, usage of pet names, sir kink, praise kink, begging, edging, ass slapping/light spanking, public sex, shower sex, hand job, unprotected sex (kinda…OC/reader is on birth control), rough sex, orgasm control/denial, implied creampie, aftercare

⟶ Read on AO3

⤑ Story Notes | Written in 2nd person POV (in case you’re new to my writing, I don’t use ‘y/n’ coding as all of my lead characters are considered as OCs). This story was written as a commission for @pinkbtsarmy; I’m sorry that it took me so long to finish this one. Thank you so much for commissioning me and for your endless support. There might be some changes added from the original prompt/details that we previously talked about as this fic completely ran out of course the moment I started writing it, but I hope you can still enjoy this story. Forgive me for the rough editing. Have fun reading! Additional Note: This story is purely fictional, with the usage of bangtan members’/idol’s names as fictional characters. Any similarities in the usage of names for other characters and circumstances are purely coincidental. Some aspects of this story may not be scientifically or biologically correct, so please don’t take things seriously (and don’t do this at home without supervision!)

This is what dreams are made of.

You keep reminding yourself about this as you try to relax.

Because you have dreamt about this. It might have been a long period of time ago that you have almost forgotten what it was like to be daydreaming and imagining yourself to be in a place like this instead of actually living in it. And you have to keep convincing yourself that you deserve every ounce of the pleasure that is being offered to you, especially after the absolute hell that you had to go through just to be able to enjoy this moment.

Looking out the window, you get a clear view of the thick, white clouds and the clear sky that is partly obscured by their presence.

The sight should have been able to help you forget about everything that you are leaving behind, as this moment is something that you have been waiting for to happen for a long while.

The long, busy months that you had to endure before this long weekend had been a tormenting period of time that you just want to put everything at the back of your mind. The overflowing and frenzy-filled work, along with the family drama and crumbling relationships—both professional and personal ones—had tested every bit of patience that you now barely have left.

And those dreadful months felt even longer when you could barely find any chance to spend enough quality time with your fiancé. Obviously, you have known this to be one of the risks that you had to take when you decided to have a relationship with Min Yoongi, one of the busiest and most sought out man in the country, but never before had it been this challenging.

Matching up your schedule with Yoongi had become almost impossible for you to do, even with the help of his personal assistant and yours. While you had your own busy life to deal with, he too was swamped with his own busy schedule and had been busy flying off to various places across the globe with only a little time spared for him to spend with you.

If only the trip you are having this weekend had not been planned since a long time ago, long before your schedules collided and you were both thrown deeply into your bustling lives, maybe then you wouldn’t have been here today—sitting on what is probably the cosiest seat you have ever sat on your whole life, and flying on a private plane taking you halfway across the world, with your fiancé pampering you the best way he knows how.

A private plane.

You feel giddy as reality sinks in and you are reminded of how inconceivable this whole thing is. To be able to experience such luxury while the world around you seems to be spiralling out of control sure makes you feel like the luckiest girl in the world. And everything was made possible thanks to your wonderful lover, the man who is always willing to give you everything to make your wishes come true.

Yoongi always goes far and beyond to spoil you. Whether it is by giving you something as lavish as flying you off with this private plane to a luxurious spa resort on a tropical island somewhere across the ocean to give you both a break from the hectic city life, or pampering you by doing something as simple as what he is doing to you now. He has your legs resting on his lap while he is giving them his full attention. His deft fingertips are pressing against your pressure points, starting from the soles of your feet and up to your calves, easing the knots in your muscles that you gained through the frantic hours leading to this flight.

And he always takes pleasure in doing things like this, gaining his own happiness by making you happy. You obviously don’t mind it at all, since you know that he always has his ways to show you how to make it up to him once you are in the privacy of your shared bedroom.

Speaking of which—

You enjoy the view as you lean back in your seat. Not at the view of the sky that you can clearly see outside the window, but at the handsome and talented man that you have the privilege to call as your fiancé. You watch Yoongi as he continues with his task, concentrating deeply while he is taking care of you and while being blissfuly unaware of the attention that you are giving him.

Whenever you are together with him, everything feels right again. The calm and serene moment that you share together has always become your source of healing, a feeling that seems entirely evident right this moment, after being deprived of his love and affection and his whole presence as a whole for months.

But there is something else that keeps nagging you from the back of your mind. A gut feeling that keeps reminding you to be cautious the moment you are alone with Yoongi, causing your body to be vibrating with anticipation since the start of the flight. Not even the mental exhaustion that you have been feeling is enough to suppress it.

It would be hard to ignore it, knowing that Yoongi is a man who is capable of turning every single moment you share together into a risqué affair. Even a simple kiss would eventually lead to something else once Yoongi puts his mind into it.

From the moment the plane took off, you had half expected that he would start something just to take your mind off of all the troubles that had been haunting you. And it would have been easy for him to start something within the long flight and with this much private space available for him to make use of. Yet he blindsided you by remaining calm throughout the flight and choosing not to initiate anything.

Except for the harmless offer he made to tend your strained feet and give you a comforting massage so you can enjoy yourself.

Sighing deeply, you briefly close your eyes to allow yourself to bask in the serene feeling and try not to think of anything else. You raise your glass and take a slow sip of your drink to find some peace of mind, only to grimace as the champagne fizzles in your mouth.

“I’m sorry, did I hurt you?” Yoongi says, making you look at him questioningly, before you realise that he must have caught you wincing and may have thought that he had been the one who caused it. The work of his hands comes to a sudden halt, though his fingers remain hovering on your skin, refusing to completely lose contact with your body.

Yoongi looks genuinely concerned that you can only smile and shake your head at him.

“No, it’s not that, really,” you answer him with a content sigh. As you try to move and twist your foot, you realise that his hands have done magic to your body while your mind has been preoccupied with unnecessary things. Your muscles have grown more lax, with all the tension that you felt fading under his touch. “You have magic hands, I swear. I feel better thanks to you, and you really didn’t have to, it wasn’t hurting me that bad.”

Another note to remember, you wonder to yourself as you twist your ankle on Yoongi’s lap. Never wear a pair of high heels when you are in a hurry to catch a flight.

Especially not when you had to deal with a bunch of catastrophe getting in the way as you were heading towards your departure. From the small troubles rising before the flight—involving the flying permit and your travel visa—to the emergency situation at Yoongi’s workplace that came at the last minute. Then you had to deal with the long traffic jam on your way to the airport, and nearly forgetting to retrieve your luggage from Yoongi’s car trunk right before departing.

With all of that drama already draining you, running across the airport in your high heels and almost spraining your ankles had only added the mental strain that had been weighing down on you. Much to your luck—or lack there of—as the unpleasant memories are coming back to you again after spending hours of trying to forget about them, you can feel the strain growing inside you again, negating all of Yoongi’s effort to rid of them for good.

With another shake of your head, you take another drink of your champagne, hoping that the taste and the frizz would be enough to wash it all away.

Oblivious to your mulling, Yoongi merely smiles and proceeds to rub his thumbs across your ankle. Right at the source of your pain.

“You’re right. I may not have to, but I wanted to. You know that I would never deny a chance to touch and take care of your pretty feet,” he says, causing your heart to make a funny leap with that smile of his, while a soft giggle threatens to escape with his admission about his odd fascination on your feet.

He often jokes about it whenever the two of you are alone, and you cannot imagine what people would possibly think if they should ever hear him say something like this. But with how many times he brings it up as an inside joke, sometimes you just cannot help but wonder if Yoongi truly means it. That the reason why he would always take his time caring for your tired feet any chance he gets actually has something to do with his secret obsession with this part of your body.

“Are you sure I didn’t hurt you? I thought I saw you wince earlier,” Yoongi asks you again while he calmly continues pressing his thumbs up your calves, while you just have to bite back a smile.

You were right, after all, about him catching you wincing earlier. Though you shouldn’t be surprised about it. Because Yoongi has always been quite observant of your moods, even since the beginning of your relationship. It would only take one look at you or a light touch on your skin for Yoongi to easily tell what is going through your mind and what you are feeling.

And he would often make use of this ability, not only on your day to day lives, but also in the bedroom, when he takes control and claims his rewards after all the things that he has done to spoil and tenderly take care of you during the day.

Drawn back to your dark thoughts, you whole body grows warm. Your skin begins to tingle right where he is touching you. As your anticipation returns, the sensation you feel from his touch grows rapidly, spreading through your body and making you feel like you need to cool off so badly.

“It’s nothing like that, really,” you answer Yoongi while resisting the urge to down your drink. “I’m still feeling lightheaded after all that running around and dealing with the drama we got before leaving, that’s all.”

With a small smile, Yoongi glances at your nearly finished drink and gently lowers your legs. “Hmm, if the champagne isn’t working, then should we order something else to make you feel better? I already asked them in advance for some of your favourite meal and desserts and I also got them to prepare a bottle of your favourite wine,” he teases you with a proud wink.

Your heart leaps a beat. “You—you did that for me?” you asks him, astounded at how in tune he is with your moods and needs before you can even express them.

Yoongi responds by taking your hand in his and whispers, “Anything to please my kitten.” His endearment draws a warm flush through your cheeks, and it elevates further when he continues to speak. “After all,” he murmurs softly as he brushes his lips against the back of your hand, “you’re probably going to need all the extra energy that you can get once we’ve arrived at the resort.”

If anyone else would have heard him just now, they probably wouldn’t be able to catch the hidden implications in his words and would simply think of it as his way to sincerely express his concern over your wellbeing. But you quickly recognise the undertone that is hidden in his words, as you have been anticipating this side of his to finally come out.

The unmistakable twinkle you see in his eyes speaks of his intention even louder. It brings you back to the nights filled with his wicked little games, and those sinful moments where he would take you to a blissful place filled with pleasure.

A surging heat rises in your core as your mind travels back to those nights. Then it emerges through a soft gasp as Yoongi presses a kiss on your palm. “Will it be the right time to once again try and convince you to put aside our clothes while we are within the confinement of our private cabin?”

While your face heats up to his indecent offer, you can barely resist the urge to smile and let out a baffled laugh. “I was wondering when you were going to bring it up again,” you say to him. Because this isn’t the first time that he is suggesting this. Ever since it was confirmed that he was renting a private cabin in the resort where you will be staying at, Yoongi had immediately suggested to do away with the clothes while staying in the cabin.

“The cabin is located at a secluded section on the island, so nobody would see us anyway. Imagine all the fun that we can have without having to tear out our clothes beforehand,” was what he has often said each time he brought up the idea. And he always managed to make your cheeks burn when you tried to picture spending the time lounging in the private cabin while in the nude.

Now, however, as you are merely hours away from arriving at your destination, you start feeling more intrigued at the idea, leaving your body growing aroused instead of feeling apprehensive about it. Even when you cannot possibly imagine what may happen the moment you are alone with him and with every piece of clothing set aside.

With Yoongi, anything is possible.

And you always love his sweet yet saucy surprises. This time, however, you have nothing to worry about when you think of what he might have planned, because you have your own wild card to use on him. A little surprise that you have prepared to make this whole trip more pleasurable for both of you.

“You know what—?” You can barely contain yourself just as you are thinking about your own secret plan, yet you manage to feign a semblance of innocence when you share your thoughts with him.

“Since I’ll be making us both discard our clothes for the treatments at the spa once we get there,” you begin, referring and hinting at the spa treatment that you have booked at the resort for this weekend trip after he had the rest of the trip arranged, “I guess I don’t see why we can’t do the same while we’re at the cabin. Let’s try it and see what happens.”

Oblivious to your indecent intention, Yoongi seems pleased to hear this.

With a soft chuckle, Yoongi lifts your hand to his lips again and kisses your skin. “Wonderful,” he gently says. There is a familiar slow drag in his deep voice which tells you that he is already working out a plan to make this weekend unforgettable for the two of you, not knowing that you are doing just about the same thing at the same time. “I’m going to make sure that you won’t regret it.”

“Having any regrets yet?”

In your eyes, Yoongi has an afterglow coming out of him. One that is undeniably deserving of him to have after the blissful release that you just shared.

The gentle voice that comes from him when he is asking you this, along with the warm gaze he is giving you and the gentle touch of his fingers on your wrists, are all in complete contrast to how he acted merely moments ago.

Looking closely at your wrists, right at the spot that he is now rubbing against, you can see some indistinct marks that are visible yet growing fainter now that your blood are flowing smoothly underneath your skin as they are being soothed by his touch. Each pulse of your blood feels warm, while in place of the straining exhaustion that you felt during the flight, a soft humming of pleasure is surging through your body.

“Hmm—” you hum softly at the comforting touch that he is giving you and the waning pulses of pleasure that still remain within you, causing Yoongi to let out a light chuckle.

“Talk to me, kitten,” he murmurs as he brings one wrist to his lips and presses a kiss on it. “I need to know if I hurt you or if I’ve been too rough. I couldn’t help myself. After spending an entire day not touching you, the moment I got to touch your skin, I kept wanting more”—he presses another kiss and groans—”and more.”

His words fade into another deep groan, as if the moment he closes his eyes, he is seeing himself making love to you all over again, doing all the sinful things which had led you to be in this position.

A mixture of pain and pleasure and a deep feeling of content rushes through you as you lean against his chest, bringing you back to the mind-blowing pleasure that he had just given you.

Looking back to it now, you realise that you cannot truly blame Yoongi for letting go of any reservations once he was given the chance to.

It was well in the afternoon when the private jet landed on the island. You were immediately welcomed by the warm sun and the fresh, comforting breeze that felt nothing like the stale and polluted air you had back in your home city. Yet you couldn’t really embrace it all when your mind was occupied with something else at that moment.

After Yoongi shared the idea of stripping down once he got you alone, you had expected that he would be taking you straight to the cabin to make it happen. That thought had led you to spend the entire car ride from the airport anticipating it, only for Yoongi to once again blindside you, deviating from the plan by instructing the driver to head towards the local marketplace on the other side of the island instead.

You questioned his decision at first, before realising too late that it was all a part of his wicked game. That he wanted to make you forget for a moment about his illicit intention while making you wait until he would start touching you again.

And his plan easily worked.

The moment you arrived at the marketplace, you became completely entranced by your surroundings and any thought of Yoongi’s indecent plan flew out of your thoughts. With all the colourful trinkets, handmade accessories and art-pieces, and traditional-made fabrics in vibrant colours capturing your eyes, it was easy to get lost in the moment. Even Yoongi was enjoying himself as he gladly splurged through the market just to please you, spoiling you with gifts and souvenirs.

His surprise continued with a short walk down the beach, where you enjoyed having your feet sinking into the wet sand and the waves hitting your ankles while you were playing chase with your fiancé. Then he led you to the fancy restaurant by the beach side where you had your early dinner. Accompanied by the view of the sunset and the gorgeous view of the ocean around you, and the man who was there to give you his full attention, you finally managed to find the sense of calm that you had been searching for.

Once he realised that you have completely forgotten about his perverse scheme, that was when Yoongi finally put everything into play. It wasn’t until the moment you walked past the threshold of your private cabin when you first realised just how far ahead Yoongi had planned the entire thing, once you failed to find your luggage right where they were supposed to be.

“Remember what we talked about? Strip down and wait for me in the bedroom,” Yoongi gently instructed you when he noticed your reaction. “You’ll have them back when I say you can. For now, I want this thing off of you—” he said as he tugged at your summer dress, “and to see you on your knees on the bedroom floor.”

Just like that, things heated up and escalated into a lot more. Right from the moment he found you kneeling on the bedroom floor, waiting for him without an inch of your skin covered before taking him deep in your throat.

And things didn’t end there. As he took you to the living room where he continued pleasuring you in the most intimate of ways while playing his indecent games, taking you in all position on top of the myriad of furnitures that he could make use of. And then, right when you thought he was about to take a break late midnight, he once again took control of you, bending you over the kitchen counter after he found you making drinks while in the nude, accusing you of purposely teasing him with a sway of your hips while he took you from behind.

The night continued on to near dawn, as if time moved so slowly until the moment he took you back into the bedroom, where he tied your hands and ankles to the bedposts, keeping you restrained while he gave you an otherworldly pleasure that is still humming through your entire body which seems to be taking its sweet time to come down.

“No, I have no regrets,” you answer him with a voice that sounds unintentionally airy and hoarse. You can feel a moan threatening to slip out of you as you stretch out on the messy bed, giving both your body and mind a bit of reprieve as you lean against his bare chest.

A content sigh slips out of your lips. This is how it is supposed to be, you wonder to yourself as you close your eyes and revel in his warmth, once you no longer feel the weight of the world on your shoulders.

This is why being with him and submitting your pleasure to him feels so intoxicating. Because giving up control of your pleasure into his hands has always been the way to help you cope with all the hard times that you have to endure in real life.

You shift in the bed to adjust yourself against him, and the warm flutters of your continuous orgasms are not the only thing that you can feel as you gently rock your hips. When the remnants of his release and yours begin to drip out of your worn-out core, a small amount of them left behind even after he did his work to clean you up after.

Watching this, you can only count your blessings. Not only for all the blissful pleasure that you have been given through this trip, but also for remembering to take your depo shot on time before the trip. Because now you get to enjoy your trip and any intimate moments shared with him to your heart’s content without having to worry about anything.

“Yeah, absolutely no regrets,” you hum softly while resting your head on his shoulder, drawing a chuckle out of him even without him knowing where your mind is wandering off to.

“How are you feeling now, kitten? Are you feeling any better now?”

Laughing softly, you hum against his chest before pulling away. “Much better, thanks to you,” you whisper to him, earning a soft peck on your lips which brings the gentle flutters in your chest back up. “It would be enough to help me sleep, that’s for sure. I’m just hoping that I won’t fall asleep right in the middle of the spa treatment with only a little time left to sleep.”

“Ah yes, the spa treatment,” he says with a smile, though the sarcastic tone in his voice is not too hard to notice. “Are you ever going to tell me more about it, or are you planning to keep your little secret to yourself until the last minute?”

Your eyes grow wide at his question. You cannot help but laugh and feeling embarrassed for being caught. “So you noticed, hmm?” you ask him, only for him to scoff at you. “I was planning to surprise you once we’re at the spa, but since you’ve been such an amazing lover through this trip so far—”

You sit up and turn to face him as you finally spill your little secret. “Do you remember back when we watched that amusing wrestling match during one of our trips?” Yoongi merely raise his eyebrows in a silent question instead of answering you, so you continue, “you know, the one involving mud? The one that we later said it was hot while being messy at the same time and wondered how it must have felt like being covered in all that mud?”

A deep, knowing look manifests through his gaze when he finally starts to comprehend where this is going. Biting back a smile, you continue by questioning him, “Guess what this spa resort is most famous for?”

Yoongi sighs. “Let me guess, it’s not for their private cabins and the clear white sand on their open beach.”

“Nope,” you tease him, shaking your head as he refers to the resort’s main selling point which made him choose this island to spend your weekend getaway, while you let him know the reason why you insisted to book a spa treatment while you are here once you found out more about this resort. “They’re famous for using scientifically processed volcanic mud for their healing therapy and spa treatments.”

Yoongi blinks. “Why do I have a feeling that we’re not just talking about using the mud for facial masks?”

“Well, I mean,” you shrug, “they do have that kind of treatment too, but we could’ve gotten them at the spa that I regularly go to back home.” You briefly come to a pause for dramatic purpose, making him wait before you reveal to him, “but that’s not what I’ve booked for us on this trip.”

“Us?” he asks you with a grin. “Then what are we going to do with that mud, kitten?”

You shift closer, unable to contain your excitement. “We’re going to bathe in it. We’ll soak our tired and battered bodies into the mud to get rid of all the toxins and to loosen our muscles up before we have to go back to work once the weekend is over.”

Yoongi let out an incredulous laugh. “So—we’re going to have a mud bath?”

You nod.

“Together?”

You shrug. “I believe I did book us both a couples’ treatment package for the mud bath, so we’re in this together.”

Hearing this, Yoongi looks a bit dubious at best. Yet despite his reluctance, you know that he isn’t going to say no to this. “It sounds…interesting,” he finally says after pondering about it for a while.

“It is interesting. I know it will be. It’ll be a new experience for both of us, and I know that it’s going to be fun. They said it’ll help us bond as a couple when we do it together,” you continue selling the idea out, loving how Yoongi seems to slowly grow curious about it more than he is hesitant about it.

“Bond as a couple, hmm? Would it be more helpful compared to what we just did earlier?” he teases you while wiggling his eyebrows, causing your cheeks to heat up.

“Close enough, maybe,” you merely say to him, because both of you know that what you do in the bedroom together is already more than enough to strengthen the bond that you have created between the two of you. “But it’ll give us something to remember. And you promised to try new things with me whenever we have the chance to while we’re traveling together. You won’t regret it, I promise.”

“Alright, since we’re already here, and since you’ve been listening to me nicely since we got here,” he says while feigning a defeated sigh. “I suppose it’s my turn to take your word for it.”

“That’s great. Oh, I can’t wait. This is going to be a lot of fun,” you express your relief as you kiss his lips, feeling hopeful about the upcoming new experience, while remaining oblivious to what Yoongi is secretly planning for you as a payback for your little surprise as he embraces you to sleep.

“Welcome to Pure Bliss Spa and Resort.”

You have been feeling both excited and anxious the entire morning that you were almost shaking when you walked into the main establishment of the spa resort. The building itself is located not too far from where your rented cabin is. Just a bit deeper into the island and right on top of the hillside overlooking the spread of wide ocean.

There was still a bit of a drive to get here, which allowed you to enjoy the sights around you even more—such as the private beach attached to the spa establishment which you haven’t had time to visit yet.

From outside, the building looks quite glamorous as a private retreat. With a facade built out of natural stone blocks and strong column structures holding up its massive canopy, the establishment appears to you as if it is blending nicely into the hills surrounding it.

A different kind of vibe welcomed you as you entered the building, when you were met with one of the cosiest space that you have ever been to. Through the warm-coloured wood materials on the floors and furnitures, and the ivory and beige colours covering the floor, loveseats, and the walls around you, this place gives you a homy feeling that fills your chest with a sense of comfort even before you get to experience the healing treatments that they are offering you.

It makes you feel as if you are walking into a warm embrace. Giving you some reassurance that it was the right idea to come to this place for a quick healing in this weekend getaway.

You take a quick glance at Yoongi before responding to the receptionist welcoming you at the front desk. You have half expected to see him somewhat resigned to what you were dragging him here for, yet the clear and warm gaze he is giving you in return is telling you differently. Perhaps your excitement over the upcoming spa treatment is already growing on him, and it is making you feel even more thrilled about this retreat more than ever.

“Hello,” you greet the receptionist with a smile, “we’ve already booked us the couples’ special package treatment for today. I believe it was made under my name.”

“Of course, may I have your reservation details?” With a nod, you give her everything that she needs to confirm the reservations that you made months ago. It takes less than five minutes for her to find all the details needed in her computer. “It is stated here that you have booked our couples package with the volcanic mud bath therapy and the couples full body rock massage. Is that correct?”

Again, you nod while trying your best to contain your eagerness. Relief washes over you as the receptionist clears everything out for you and says, “Your appointment has been confirmed, and the preparation for your private sessions is already set to go. Until then, you can wait in our guest lounge where you can enjoy our welcome drinks and snacks. Here are the keys to your lockers where you can place your personal belongings and retrieve the necessities that you will need for your therapy sessions. One of our staff will come to assist you and help you get ready for your mud bath session once everything is set up and ready for you.”

After expressing your gratitude to the receptionist, you turn to Yoongi again to gauge his reaction. He seems pretty calm for someone who was caught off guard by your surprise plan. Though he didn’t seem too thrilled at the idea of soaking in a tub full of mud when you first brought it up, but there is not a sign of displeasure coming out of him while he is listening attentively to the receptionist as she continues to explain more about the mud bath therapy, before finally sending you off to the guest lounge where you can wait for your sessions to start.

A female attendant comes to fetch you and Yoongi at the lounge only a short while later. After showing you the locker rooms—where you are able to secure your personal belongings and change into the bath robe that they provided for you—she takes you through the establishment while guiding you through the next steps before your treatment.

Through the short tour that she is giving you, you get to see the area where the massage rooms are located, and even get to take a quick peek at one of the vacant rooms which may be available for you to use later after the bath. You also get to see various other therapy rooms along the way, enticing you to one day try and experience them if you ever have the chance to.

Once you enter the baths section, you walk past the jacuzzi and sauna, and you are quite amused to see an indoor swimming pool that they provide for their water therapy sessions. Soon enough, you are heading towards the area where the rooms for the mud baths. Your anticipation grows when the attendant turns to you and asks, “Are we ready to head straight to the main course of your treatment?”

“Yes, absolutely,” you quickly answer, as you can no longer contain your eagerness. You slip your arm around Yoongi’s, and his lips curl up to a small smile as he looks you.

The attendant leads the two of you through the hallway that feels slightly warmer and the air much denser compared to the previous areas. It continues until the end of the hallway which parts into two separate lanes, with singular doors occupying each of them.

“We have provided separate rooms for our mud bath treatment to give more privacy,” the attendant explains as she shows you through the private section for the bath. “As you can see here, we have two types of rooms which our guests can choose—one with the separate, singular tubs, and the other with the joint tub that couples are usually more interested to try on. According to the booking details, I believe the couples package is the one you booked for today’s treatment, is that correct?”

“Oh, yes,” you answer her with a smile. “It would be the first time for both of us to experience this, and I think my fiancé is a bit nervous about it,” you claim with a flicker of a glance at Yoongi who is looking at you with raised eyebrows, “so we thought that choosing the couples package would help us feel more comfortable as we’re trying it together.”

“That’s a brilliant choice,” the attendant says, nodding her head. “Couples who came to us without prior experience to this kind of treatment have always chosen to use the joint tub to make it less awkward for them. We also believe that it would give you a wonderful chance to have a special bonding time with your partner.” She winks at you as she says this. “Let me show you where you are going to have your bath.”

With your hand holding tightly on Yoongi’s cold one, you both follow the attendant as she walks into one of the rooms. It is a medium sized room with a stone tub right in the center of it which has been filled with an overflowing amount of smooth, creamy, grey mud. The tub is probably not that much bigger compared to a queen-sized bed, but it does seem to fit two person to lie inside it and have a long dip without feeling crowded.

Just like the hallway outside, the room feels warm, but a bit more comfortable than the stuffy hall in which you walked through to get here. There is a subtle scent of lavender wafting in the air around you, which is probably what makes it feel less stuffy and more cozy as you step into the room.

On either side of the tub, you see two long console tables made of dark-coloured hardwood. Each one of them holds an array of small candles, all having been lighted up with flames flickering against the flowing breeze, and ceramic plates holding up burning incenses that may have been the source of the delightful scent of lavender that you are breathing in. The lighting in the room itself is kept dimly-lit, yet the candles help illuminate the room without over saturating the interiors, making it seem calming and relaxing instead of giving you a gloomy sense of space.

“This is one of our couples-only mud rooms which had been reserved specially for your treatment,” the attendant says, stepping aside so you can have a good look at the entire room as you walk deeper into the center of the room with your hands entwined to Yoongi’s.

You follow your fiancé’s gaze as he silently observes the filled tub, and the attendant continues to explain, as if noticing where Yoongi’s attention is being drawn towards. “As you can see, we have prepared for you our special mud with the right temperature that would be comfortable for your first try. We only use the highest quality volcanic mud for our baths, taken from the local natural resource and processed exclusively for our bath therapy. As you may have read in our website, this mud acts as a detoxifier, with muscle relaxation and skin cleansing agent that will be activated under the perfect temperature. Rest assure, that we always replace the mud with fresh ones after each use and we have prepared freshly processed mud for your treatment today.”

Hearing this seems to ease Yoongi’s mind a little more as he no longer seems as tense as he was before. The attendant smiles, obviously noticing this change in Yoongi’s mood and the astonished look on your face.

“The recommended time for the bath is usually between twenty to thirty minutes, but you are free to end the bath sooner if you are feeling too uncomfortable under the heat. And you need to remember that you’ll have to step out of the bath before the heat starts to cool down, because then all the healing agents will no longer be active and the mud will harden on your skin. The lights above the door will turn on once the thirty minutes count is up and there will also be the sound of the bell to notify you in case you fall asleep or loose track of time—which often happens when a guest feels too comfortable under the warm mud,” she continues, pointing at the row of small lamps above the door, making sure that you would be able to notice them once they are lighted up.

“Once you step out of the bath, you can proceed to the adjacent shower room where you can wash off the remaining mud on your skin. From there, you can press the bell or contact any staff through the intercom and someone will come to assist you and show you where to go for your next treatment. Do you have any further question?”

You turn to Yoongi, who still seems a bit doubtful, trying to see if he has anything to inquire from the attendant to answer some of the curiosity that you can still clearly see on his face. Yet he keeps his silence, so you figure that there is nothing more for either of you to say. “I think we’re good for now. All we have to do next is dip straight in, right?”

“That’s right,” the attendant nods. “Just soak in the mud like you would in a hot tub, and let the mud do all the magic. If you have no further question, then I’ll take my leave and let you enjoy the bath. There are fresh towels and bath robes that you can put on either after the mud bath or once you’ve stepped out of the shower. A staff will come if you ever need any help. Just press the button on the intercom and we’ll keep in touch with you for further assistance.”

Once she is done showing you everything that you may need during your bath, you thank the attendant for her service and guidance, and she gracefully exits the room to give you all the privacy that you need. Just as the silence settles in between you, the excitement to start the bath grows on you while Yoongi appears to be completely fixated on the tub full of mud.

“Well, this is—” he begins to say, and you chime in to finish his words,

“Exciting?” you tease him, earning a light scoff from him in response.

“Nerve-racking would probably be a more fitting way to describe it,” he says with a grin, though it is quite obvious that he has grown more intrigued by the sight of the bubbling mud before you now that he is seeing it for himself.

With a soft giggle, you cling to his arm and tease him a little to help him ease up a bit more. “Oh, come on. This looks fun. You said you wanted to experience this with me.”

Sighing, Yoongi looks over to the tub again and says, “I have to admit, I was expecting to see a pile of nasty mud when I first heard about this. Anything that would be—unhealthy.”

You tilt your head at him. “And now that you’re seeing it?”

Yoongi takes one last look at the tub, squinting his eyes as he catches the sight of the small bubbles appearing on the surface and says, “It still looks nasty.”

This time, you cannot help but laugh. “You heard what our guide said earlier, didn’t you? She said that it’s supposed to be good for your skin and body.”

Yoongi gives you another scoff, though the dubious look he has been giving you slowly shifts into mischief when he sarcastically says, “That’s just her way of selling it to make sure that you’ll come back for more.”

You can only shake your head at his comment and smile. “Well, you know that I’m already sold. We wouldn’t be here today in the first place if I hadn’t been,” you say to him, referring to when you first learned about the mud bath treatment while you were searching through the internet to know more about the resort.

“Fine, let’s see if all that hype about this ‘healing factors’ from the mud is more than false advertisement,” he says as he presses a kiss on the tip of your nose.

Yoongi walks over to the stone tub right after. Staring at the grey mess in the tub, he gets a bit closer so he can observe it further. He leans forward, his face hovering above the surface to feel the heat on his skin.

The surface of the mud looks to be steaming, confirming everything that the attendant had told you about how they were keeping it warm while preparing this mud bath for you. You feel wary about the heat at first, before reminding yourself that the healing factors from the mud will only be activated under the perfect temperature.

Curious, you walk closer to the other side of the tub and dip your finger into the mud. It does feel warm, almost similar to the temperature that you would normally prefer for your hot bath to soothe your tensed muscles. The mud feels just a bit slimier than what you had expected it to be as you pull out your stained finger and mesh it with your thumb.

Yoongi keeps his eyes on you the entire time you are feeling up the texture. “That looks,” he murmurs while frowning at the sight of it, “a bit gross.”

“Oh, come on. Just get in. It’ll be fine, I promise,” you say to him as you straighten back up.

Without waiting for him to respond, you start to peel the robe off of your body, making quite a show on it as you strip down right in front of his eyes. Yoongi never looks away from you, and you can clearly see his sharp gaze darkening at the sight of your bare skin. Tossing the robe away, you carefully begin to step into the tub, gasping slightly at the first touch as you slowly dip your toe into the mud. “Oh, my—”

“Be careful,” Yoongi says as he rushes to your side. Gently placing one hand on your bare waist while holding out the other so you can have something to hold on to, Yoongi helps you to get into the tub and stays by your side as you adjust yourself in it. He continues watching you closely until you are settled nicely on the bottom of the tub, submerging your whole body into the mud right up to your neck.

“How does it feel?” he curiously asks you as you close your eyes briefly to enjoy the new sensation that is now engulfing you.

You open your mouth to answer him, only for your voice to come out in a soft hum.

After you are settled down in it, you find that the texture of the mud is quite—interesting. It is slick and heavy, and its warmth seems to be pressing against your skin, giving you soft massages which slowly help ease all the tension in your body.

“It feels warm and relaxing. I can feel every tension in my muscles melting away,” you finally answer Yoongi with a hum as you lean back, resting your back against the back of the tub and finding comfort instead of feeling like you are being pressed down by the weight of the mud.

“You’re starting to sound exactly like the staff earlier,” Yoongi claims with a grumble, though you cannot miss the undertone laughter in his voice, as if he is amused to watch you enjoying yourself and finding some delight in being submerged into something that seems so—dirty.

The expression that he is making makes you laugh, but you cool yourself down and straighten your back as you coax him to join you. “Come on, you have to come in and join me to know what it’s really like.”

Yoongi frowns. “It doesn’t feel gross at all?” His lips turn down as he asks you this, but you barely notice it when you have been completely drawn to the mud, feeling amazed by how it feels on your skin.

“No, it feels more like—” you answer as you slide your hands back and forth, feeling the weight of the substance against your fingers and your whole body as you shift deeper to relax. “Being weighed under a warm blanket. It’s not gross, I promise. A bit weird and new, but nothing that would make you feel icky.”

Yoongi shakes his head and chuckles when he notices how entranced you seem to be. “Fine, if you say so,” he calmly says, despite still looking a bit unsure about all of this.

Yet he still walks back to his side of the tub and carefully takes his robe off, getting ready to dive in. You keep your eyes on him the entire time, shamelessly watching him as he strips himself down until he is completely bare. He looks up just as you are perusing his body with your gaze, drawing a grin to his face.

“You seem to enjoy what you’re seeing right now,” he teases. A bit more of his apprehensiveness fading now that he has his focus on you. Seeing that you are able to distract him from his discomfort, you continue eyeing him, humming as you openly appreciate what you are seeing.

“I do, actually,” you answer him with a hum, which makes him shake his head as he completely discards his robe. “Maybe I’m just picturing you being covered in this beautiful mud.”

Yoongi chuckles, and you are pleasantly surprised to see that your comment has somehow eased him up further. His smile only falters when he finally moves, carefully stepping into the tub with his left foot and slightly wincing when his skin makes contact with the slick mud. Once he steps his other foot in, he is no longer wincing at it, though he still appears quite uneasy about getting in. Yet he still lowers himself into the mud, allowing it to cover his entire body as he settles down right beside you.

You wait until he relaxes with a sigh before commenting, “There you go. How is it?”

His eyebrows are furrowed for a brief moment. “Tolerable, I suppose,” he says with a hum. “You were right about it being like a weighed blanket. This stuff is heavy on the body, and a bit—thick.”

The way he says the latter—as the word seems to be filled with disapproval, while at the same time, sounds as if he is amused—makes you laugh. “Yes, it actually does,” you admit as you continue moving your hands around, staying close to the surface as you try to gauge the thickness and the texture against your skin.

Lifting your hands up requires quite an effort. The way your fingers emerge from the surface while being covered by the mud seems like such an amusing sight. Curious, you raise your hand up and smear a thin layer of mud on your cheek. Unsurprisingly, it feels soothing on your skin, so you add a bit more onto the other side to make yourself a facial mask out of the mud. Your action draws Yoongi’s curiosity as he watches you playing around with the substance.

“What are you doing?” he asks, sounding genuinely interested that an idea sparks in your head.

“Putting on a face mask,” you tell him as you dip your hand back into the mud, gathering some of them on your fingers while offering him, “want to try it?”

“Why would you—hey!” he protests as you smear a small amount of mud on his cheek. He tries to wipe it off, only to add some more mud on his face as he brushes his mud-covered fingers on his skin. Confused and bewildered, he looks down on his hands before rubbing his face again, making more mess on his face when instead of wiping off the mud, he only adds more to it. “What the—” he laughs incredulously.

“It’s fine. I’m telling you, it’s a face mask. Other spas often use mud for their facial mask treatments, so I figured, since we have a whole bath tub of it, why not put some on so we can have extra facial therapy?” you try to reason with Yoongi while holding back from laughing when you see the dubious look on his face returning tenfold.

“Hmm, is that so?” he teases you back, making you wonder what he is up to when he dips his hand into the mud and subtly shifts closer. The sly smirk you see growing on his face certainly has his bad intention written all over it. “Then, since we have all of this mud to use, why don’t we make use of the rest while we have the chance?”

Before you can figure out what he means by it, Yoongi slips his arm around your waist and pulls you towards him, all while he carefully begins dipping your entire body backwards into the mud.

“No!,” you scream out while laughing nonstop, causing all effort to stop him seem fruitless. Yet Yoongi doesn’t stop, though he isn’t going as far as actually submerging you completely into the mud. The moment you feel the mud touching your hair and coating the back of your neck, and once your breath is heavy from the weight of the mud pressing down your chest and the thrill of being submerged completely in it, he pulls you back up and helps you sit back against the edge of the tub.

“Did I scare you, kitten?” he whispers against your earlobe, causing your entire body to shiver. Your breath is still ragged and your heart is still beating rapidly after his evil prank. It takes a moment for you to catch your breath, and once you are calmed, you splash a handful of mud at him to retaliate.

“You’re so bad,” you playfully scold him as he draws back to avoid your attacks while laughing.

“Sorry, kitten. I couldn’t help myself,” he says to you, kissing the tip of your nose and flicking at it, smearing more mud to your face. “You’re just so irresistible. And you did say that you wanted to try everything.”

“Fine.” You roll your eyes and try to wipe off the mud from your nose and some that had gotten around your ears and your temple. “Now sit back and behave. We’re supposed to be enjoying the bath and have some healing, not play around like this and make a mess,” you playfully scold him, pointing at the mess on the floor around the tub which he created to distract both him and yourself from the odd trembling that your body is experiencing after his playful stunt.

As if the thought of being under the mud, being made to feel helpless and finding trouble to breathe actually excites you in ways that you cannot understand.

“Okay. Whatever you say, kitten,” Yoongi complies easily, something that should be making you wary. But as he settles back into position with his back resting against the side of the tub and his body mostly submerged in the mud, you decide that it would be best to join him and try to relax, allowing the mud to take effect on your body.

You shift back in place, trying to regain the comfortable position that you had earlier as you settle down right beside Yoongi. Moments later, you begin to feel the effect of the mud on your body which is quite unexpected. You try to move your hands under the mud as you shift back, and immediately notice that not only do you feel like you are being weighed down by the thickness of the mud, you also feel as if you are being restrained by it.

“Huh, interesting.”

Yoongi has been sloshing around underneath the surface of the mud, moving his hands around to test out the thickness of the mud to feed his own curiosity instead of embracing it. But your comment makes him stop and turn to look at you.

“What is it?”

You give him no answer and feel around a bit more. “Hmm, it feels a bit hard to move once my hands are lowered deeper into the mud. As if—” you stop to try again, trying to show him what you are trying to say, only to find that it is becoming impossible to move your hand further up, even when the surface of the mud starts to ripple around you. “It feels like it is holding my hands down so I can’t really move them as easily as before.”

Yoongi raises his eyebrows. “Are you saying that it makes you feel like you’re being tied down? Is that it?”

“Yeah, that seems to be the case. Or maybe because what you did earlier loosened my muscles so much that my whole body feels lax now under the mud,” you answer him almost distractedly, as you are paying close attention to the sensations that you are beginning to feel all over your body.

With your lack of experience of being in a mud bath before, you are feeling hypersensitive to every single sensation that the mud is giving you. The warmth that you feel massaging your nerves and the weight that is pressing down on your body are beginning to feel real good.

And not just in a relaxing kind of way.

While Yoongi continues moving his hands and legs around, allowing you to feel all the more restrained when you are unable to do the same with your own hands that had sunk too deep under the mud, you become more sensitive to how the mud is moving between your legs as you stretch them forward and slowly part them open.

All of a sudden, your mind begins drifting towards all the more inappropriate things that you should ever be thinking about while being in a public bath. Yet with all the sensations that you are now feeling coming to you at once, it is becoming quite impossible for you to ignore it. A gasp nearly escapes you when you try to shift, when adjusting your position in the tub only leads to the mud touching your sensitive spots that are hidden underneath.

“Hmm…you know what? This does feel pretty relaxing, more than I expected it would be,” Yoongi suddenly says, though his voice seems to fade in and out when you are starting to lose yourself in a new kind of need that suddenly comes over you when the mud is starting to press down the area between your parted legs.

“Is it now?” you answer him, though your voice sounds too airy, with your chest rising and falling with heavy breaths when you start feeling like there are invisible fingers pressing against your core. When in reality, there is nothing there but the heat of the soft, silky mud pressing down on you.

Surely enough, Yoongi is quick to sense this change of mood of yours. You can tell—even through your haze—when Yoongi turns his head to look closer at you and his gaze is locked on yours, searching, feeling amused and somewhat intrigued to see how your body seems to be reacting to the mud.

“Are you okay there, kitten?”

“Mm-hm, I’m just—” you sigh deeply with your eyes fluttering close, unable to hold yourself together when the mud moves, brushing against your bare pussy. It takes you another inhale of breath before you can continue to answer him, “I’m okay, really. I’m just enjoying all of this.”

“Is that so?” Yoongi questions you. With your focus on the tingling sensation rising in your body and your eyes barely open to pay attention on your surroundings, you fail to notice it when Yoongi eases his way closer to your side. Until the moment you feel the mud shifts as he brings his whole body weight closer so you can feel his presence, with the new proximity and the subtle touch of his hand on your leg when he is searching for you causing the tingles on your skin to grow more intense.

Just as the anticipation keeps building up, Yoongi finally makes a bold move and slips his hand between your legs.

He starts off by doing it lightly. A gentle tease at the are between your legs with his hand moving right under the mud. He barely makes contact to your skin, yet with the slight slosh of mud as he moves his hand closer, as his fingers are slowly reaching to the source of your heat, it feels like there is an invisible touch brushing against your center. The sensation sends a shudder through your whole body, bringing up a new kind of heat building from within your body.

Once he moves, not only the mud beneath but even the air seems to stir around you. And when his fingers finally find you, a light touch brushing against your folds with a thick slickness that is present between his touch and your hot skin, a spark lights up, your body jolts as a rush of pleasure strikes you so intensely. Though the weight of the mud keeps you still, restraining you under and keeping you from thrashing around.

The pleasure that rushes through you comes in small spasms that begin from the depth of your core, slowly rising as he gives a gentle tease at your clit. The sensation coming from the warm, soft clay being rubbed against your clit and his fingers flickering at your entrance feel absolutely maddening, and you are slowly losing control of yourself.

As the pleasure builds up, rising rapidly through his gentle touch, Yoongi halts every movement and starts moving his hand away.

“Yoongii—” you whine at the loss of his touch, even though you can still feel the shadow of his fingers that remains in the sloshing mud pressing at your hot core, drawing a series of pulsing heat coming from within you.

“Patience,” he whispers, while he touches your inner thigh, brushing lightly in a teasing way which makes you want to push your hips up, fighting against the restraining mud to catch his hand. “How badly do you want this, kitten?”

“I—” your words fade to a gasp when you feel the tips of his fingers returning, hovering close to your center. You cannot see it, but the disrupted mud helps give it away as his fingers are dancing close to your folds, keeping away just an inch to tease you.

“Talk to me, kitten,” he mutters .While he is keeping his voice gentle, you can still sense the firm command that he is giving you, drawing the more submissive part of you to take hold.

“I want it. So badly. Please, Sir, allow me—” A gasp stops you, drawn by the light touch of his finger on your skin when his fingers find your inner thigh. ”Allow me to cum. Please, I beg you.”

“Such a polite kitten,” he praises, making your chest swell with pride which only heightens your sensitivity to his touch. “How could I not reward you when you beg me so sweetly?”

“Yes, Sir. I—”

Whatever it is that you wish to say to him evaporates when his fingers return to you, coming right back to where you want him to be the most. Almost immediately, you feel like you are about to erupt. The minor tremors which had been building before are now increasing rapidly, and there is no stopping it from escalating further when Yoongi abandons his gentle touches and begins doing it more firmly.

Noticing how you are responding to him now, Yoongi decides to take more risk. Using the fingers that have been pressing against your pulsing entrance, he slowly pushes, sticking his finger inside you. He stops once he gets a knuckle in, and already your body shudders, while your walls pulse around his digit. The thought of any possible way there would be mud being pushed into you is brushed aside when your mind is muddled by the mixed sensations given to you from multiple things at once.

Yoongi draws back slightly and pulls his finger back out, using only his thumb to rub circles on your clit and distract you from what he is about to do next. Yet your muscles react before your mind can even process the feeling of his finger returning into your pussy, slowly sliding in between your tight walls, with your hips rising to chase him, denying his escape.

“Yoongi,” you gasp out his name, and he responds only by bringing his finger back to your hot entrance, not just one this time, but two of them, spreading your pussy walls as he slides them inside you deeper. “Oh! Oh, God—!”

There is a dark flame in Yoongi’s eyes as he gives you his full attention. He can easily tell that you are getting closer to the edge. He can even feel it through the spasms coming from your delicate walls that are clenching around his digits as he continues sliding them in and out of you. At the same time, he continues rubbing your clit with his thumb in a rapidly increasing pace, adding a myriad of sensations flowing onto you at once.

As your body begins to react to the heightened pleasure, the mud on the surface of the bath began to move around you, showing the world what is happening beneath the mud. Sliding closer, Yoongi slips his other arm around your back, holding your body up to him and keeping you from thrashing more wildly. His hand reaches your breast, and he begins to palm the soft mound, using the slick mud to easily rub and knead until you are arching against him in response.

It only takes a few more passing seconds, a few more thrusts and rubs, with his fingers finding your hardened nipple to give it a pinch, and you are taken over by the wave of your orgasm, pushing you over the edge that you come so hard that the mud around you ripples wildly, sloshing at the surface despite keeping you locked with nowhere to go. There is no escape, as you are kept restrained under the weight of the mud and within Yoongi’s tight embrace as you are plunged straight into your climax.

Your cries of pleasure are threatening to join all the frenzy happening at the height of your orgasm, but Yoongi is quick to take action. He leans in to capture your lips and drown the sound of your moans before anyone passing by the hallway outside can hear you.

Yoongi keeps his arms around you as your body is taking its sweet time to recover, holding you up against him as he slowly pulls his hand away from your heat. He draws back from the kiss once he feels the shudders in your body subsiding, and your body slumps against him. Your muscles instantly grow lax in the aftermath of your climax and under the warm comfort of the healing mud.

“What’s wrong? Are you feeling high from the ‘healing factors’, kitten?” Yoongi teases you as he slowly releases you from his hold, letting you slip back into your previous position in the bath tub.

You open your tired eyes with a light chuckle. “Oh, I’m feeling everything. Thank you very much for your kind assistance.”

Yoongi laughs at your comment. He seems pleased with himself—as he probably should—when he leans into you again, pressing his lips on your temple. It is then when you finally notice the mess that you have left behind on his body—the smeared mud covering nearly half his face that is beginning to dry out, and some that have gotten on his hair. You have no doubt that you are in a bigger mess after everything that he had done, yet you can care less about it, when the only thing that you can feel aside from the drying mud on your face, hair, and neck, is the way your body is humming softly with pleasure. And you can feel it coming from both your climax and quite likely the healing factor that the mud has given you.

Just as things begin to calm down, the lights above the door start flickering, letting you know that the thirty minutes time limit is up.

“Perfect timing,” Yoongi says as he observes the lights and the timer beneath it. “Should we move to the shower to clean ourselves? We need to make sure that we didn’t have any mud getting into your private parts now, do we?”

You wince at the thought of the mud reaching into the most delicate part of your body and immediately agree. “Seems like the mud is cooling down too, so we better get out of here.”

While you are having trouble pushing yourself up with your legs feeling like rubber and your hands still heavy in the cooling mud, Yoongi manages to slip out of the tub with little ease.

“Hang on, I’ll come and get you,” he says as he carefully reaches for the towels.

After cleaning his hands and legs enough to move easier and then slipping into a robe to cover himself, Yoongi walks over to assist you, helping you escape the mud’s possessive grasp and holding you up on your swaying feet.

Your chest swells when you see him coming down on his knees before you. With gentle hands, he helps clean your feet just so you wouldn’t slip on the floor, before helping you with your robe.

You continue to cling onto his arm as you both make your way to the adjacent shower room, following the attendant’s guidance to find it. Stopping right in front of the alluring shower space, Yoongi slips his arm around your waist and sneakily starts undoing your robe.

“Should I help clean you up?” he offers, drawing a soft hum out of you when the thought of him pampering you under the shower seems enticing.

“You want to give me a bath?” you ask him with a soft, tired laugh.

“You know I’d do anything for you, which includes making sure that you are properly cleaned,” he teases you as he slowly strips you out of your robe.

The remaining mud on your skin feels dry, and you want nothing more than to wash them all off to feel refreshed again. And then there are the underlying worries of having mud in places where it isn’t supposed to be. As if he knows what you are thinking, Yoongi coaxes you further by saying, “I was the one who made a mess of you earlier, shouldn’t I be responsible to clean everything away?”

“I suppose you’re right,” you murmur softly as you turn around, pulling his robe so you can strip him out of it. “You do need to take responsibility for all of this mess.” With a single pull, you manage to undo the robe and push it off of his shoulders. Once the stained robe falls to the floor, you take his hands and begin pulling him with you into the shower.

Any plans that you had on taking the lead simply fades when Yoongi grabs you around the waist and kisses you deeply. He keeps you distracted while he turns the shower on, surprising you as the water falls around you.

You gasp into the kiss as the water hits your skin. Your entire body is still sensitive after the previous treatment that the water feels like light massages pressing on your skin. With your eyes closed, you allow your head to fall back and embrace the blissful pleasure coming from the running water. It feels calming and refreshing at the same time, until Yoongi’s hands come to your skin with their gentle touch which brings back the heat in your body.

“Relax, kitten,” Yoongi whispers to you when he feels you flinching at his touch, though you make no move to avoid him. He smiles to you when you open your eyes and says, “Let me take care of you.”

His soothing words help you feel more relaxed to his touch, even if your skin is still so sensitive, and there is a faint humming sensation coming from deep inside your core which becomes even more evident the more he keeps touching you.

“If you insist,” you say to him with a hum. Then you reach up, brushing your fingers through the messy strands of his hair that are stained with drying mud. “But only if you let me do the same and help you clean up too.”

Yoongi chuckles softly. “I’m not going to stop you,” he says, as he begins rubbing the mud stains off of your face. “You know that I always enjoy it when you are touching me.”

With that, you quickly do the same to him, starting from his face, as you rub his skin clean from the mud, before moving to wash his hair using the shampoo that has been provided for you to use.

Things become intense and quickly start heating up as you take turns taking care of each other under the running water. You take pleasure in the way he is tenderly washing your hair just as much as you enjoy doing the same to him. He makes your heart stutter as he traces your face with his lips right after his fingers are done washing away the remaining mud on your face and down to your neck, while you draw soft sighs from him when you do the same, as you clean his face, his jawline, and his neck from all the mud.

Your breath quickens as his hands move lower to find your breasts. He takes his sweet time on your soft mounds, as he lathers a handful of the herbal-scented liquid soap on your flesh and starts rubbing, massaging them with his palms, and then moving to rub your hardened nipples clean until no more mud is left behind. In the wake of his touch, he leaves behind a trail of heat, surging all the way down your body from where he is touching you so intensely.

The water raining down on you from the shower is beginning to grow colder while you are tending one another and washing away what still remains from the mud bath, yet his steady hands are helping you feel warm as he runs them down on your skin, going lower and lower, moving past your hips and not stopping until he gets low enough to reach your thighs.

“Yoongi—” you cry softly as he runs his fingers along the inner side of your thighs. You can only let him as he grips at your thigh and slowly starts lifting one of your legs up, opening yourself to him.

“It’s okay, kitten. I just want to make sure that we have your body thoroughly cleaned,” he murmurs against your lips, before giving you a soft kiss. “I don’t want to miss anything when we’re done here.”

By the time he slips his other hand between your parted legs, you are too delirious to give him a proper response. All that you can give him is a soft sigh as his fingers find your folds. The sounds you are making grow deeper, shifting into a series of gasps and moans as he parts your nether lips and begins rubbing his fingers gently around the sensitive parts of your body.

Starting from your swollen clit, he moves his fingers in circles as he wipes away the slimy mud while coaxing a different kind of moisture to rise in its absence. Then he moves to your slit, rubbing back and forth until he no longer finds any of the slick substance left behind, and he doesn’t stop even when he feels your slick arousal coating all over his digits.

Once he is pleased with the result, Yoongi presses down the tips of his fingers right at your hot entrance. He barely pushes his way in when your pussy reacts with a throb, every pulse that has waned down begins to come back alive under his touch.

You start to sway, barely able to hold your weight with only one leg holding you up as he has a tight grip on the other to keep it lifted. The pleasure that keeps rising is beginning to make your legs quiver beneath you and your mind starts spinning, so you reach up and grab onto his bare shoulders, keeping a tight hold there for leverage.

“Let’s make sure that I didn’t get any of that mess deep inside here as well,” he says, right before he pushes his fingers into your pussy, drawing a low, breathless moan through you when his invading digits are spreading your pulsing walls apart. A wave of pleasure rocks your entire body and you shudder, already coming so close to your climax even before he begins moving his fingers further.

“Is everything alright, kitten?” Yoongi teases you with a playful nip at the side of your neck.

“Yoongi, I—” you gasp softly when his finger start getting deeper. “Oh, fuck!” you gasp before teasing him, “I don’t think that this is what they meant about using this therapy to help us bond.”

Yoongi chuckles softly. “What are you talking about, kitten? I’m just trying to be thorough.”

“Hmmm—of course, you are,” you sarcastically scoff at him. Yet your voice sounds feeble, and your moans are betraying you by showing how much you need him to go on.

“I can tell that you are properly cleaned down here,” he murmurs against your earlobe. “But why are you getting wet, kitten? I know that this isn’t coming from the bath earlier, nor is it coming from the shower.”

You let out a groan. “You know that it’s your fault.”

“Is it now?” he chuckles. “Is that why you are rocking your hips, kitten?”

You gasp as you realise what you are doing, when your hips are moving back and forth and start grinding against his fingers before you can stop yourself. “I can’t help it. It feels so good.” You whine softly and nearly cry out when he presses down deeply against your sweet spot. “Oh, Yoongi—I think I’m going to cum.”

“Already? So soon?” he groans against your neck as he presses a kiss there. He gives you a few more strokes, pressing deep inside your pussy, before pulling his fingers back out to stop you from embracing your climax. You open your eyes to protest, only to see his mischievous grin as he whispers to you, “What’s the matter, kitten?”

“Why did you stop?” You pout, making him laugh.

“Do you want me to go on?”

“But we’re not finished yet,” you say to him with a soft whine. Looking away from him, you reach down between your bodies to find his erection and wrap your hand around its girth. Using the running water and the excess soap you still have in your grip, you move your hand up and down his length, rubbing off the small stain of mud which is still coating his skin. “You’re still a bit dirty here too, Yoongi.”

Yoongi’s breath grows heavy as you continue stroking his cock, even when there is no more mud left behind. “You’re growing harder, Yoongi,” you tease him, “Does it feel good?”

Opening his eyes, Yoongi groans at your touch. “You’re such a naughty kitten. I should punish you for being so bad.”

“Hmmm—I think I do deserve a punishment, Sir,” you answer him with a low voice. “But can it wait? Please, Sir. I want to feel you inside me. It hurts. You promised to be thorough, and we don’t have that much time left.”

Groaning deeply, Yoongi grabs your wrist and stops you mid-stroke and slaps your bare bottom to scold you. Once on one side, then once more on the other side to make it even. It draws a gasp out of your lips, while the pain quickly merges into pleasure when he briefly rubs against your tender skin.

“Such a brat,” he says as he steps back in between your legs and presses his cock against your wet folds. “Is this what you want, kitten?” he teases you as he rocks back and forth, rubbing his cock across your hot slit. You feel the tip of his erection pressing at your entrance, and you instinctively move to press against it, hoping that you can get him inside you.

“Yes, please give me your cock, Sir. I need to cum,” you beg him as you rock back against him, enjoying the shudders rushing through your body which brings heat under the cold running water.

“Remember that you asked for it,” he says with a deep groan as he presses forward, finally entering you with one firm thrust. You were already close, already sensitive with the orgasm you reached during the bath and then after while he was cleaning you off from the mud, and it doesn’t take long before you feel it rising back up again even before he starts moving.

The first pulse of your orgasm erupts when he begins rocking his hips. He starts thrusting in and out of you in a rapid pace instead of taking it gently. His rough breathing falls against your neck, with deep moans slipping out each time he pushes his way deeper inside you to make you tremble against his body.

“Did you enjoy the mud bath, kitten? Tell me what you felt while you were soaking in that messy mud,” he asks you with deep grunts escaping his lips, and without even once slowing down. “Talk to me, kitten. Tell me everything.”

“It was,” you moan rather loudly as he thrusts forward just when you are trying to speak. “It felt pleasant. So good. Like the mud was massaging my entire body—” you stop with a gasp as your body starts rocking back against Yoongi in your desperate need to feel more. “Then I felt it moving around my—oh, fuck—my pussy, and it started to feel like it was touching me, rubbing against me.”

Yoongi trembles against you as he feels your walls pulsing around him. Thinking back about the sensation that the mud was giving you draws the same exact reaction from your body as it did before. Only that they all emerge through you more intensely with Yoongi being embedded deeply inside you, his girth rubbing against your walls while you are reminiscing every single thing that you experienced while soaking under the soft, silky mud.

“Then you started touching me, and I felt a lot more,” you continue with a strangled moan. “It felt like there were so many hands and fingers touching me at the same time, while the mud felt like invisible tongues licking all over my body.”

“Fuck, that’s crazy hot,” Yoongi groans, and as he tries to imagine how it must have felt for you to find release while he was playing with you in the mud, he unintentionally pushes forward with one rough thrust, sending you rising against the cold tile wall with its force.

“How did you—oh,” you moan when he shifts, finding a new angle which allows him to reach deeper. “What did you feel while you were in the mud?”

Yoongi opens his eyes at your question, and his strokes slow down just a little as he recalls his own experience. His eyes grow darker when he shares them with you. “It felt warm. You were right about how it felt like the mud was massaging your body, because it felt the same with me. Only that”—he groans as he tries to remember everything and starts picking up his pace—”it felt almost like it was licking and touching me until I grew hard, almost like I was getting an endless blowjob while I was trying to move closer to you.”

He starts moving faster again while being lost in his memory, as if he is trying to bring all the sensations back to his body again. “It felt so warm, almost like how it feels right now when I’m deep inside you.” He pushes forward again with a groan. “Only that this—the real thing—is much better. Way better.”

A sharp gasp slips out of you when he goes back to his rapid thrusts, pounding hard into you like an animal. The sound of your bodies slapping against one another under the running water fills the shower room, while the sound of your cries echoes against the walls around you.

“Yes, this is it. This is how it felt for me,” he groans deeply as he feels your pussy pulsing around his length, followed by the faint spasms of your incoming release gripping his cock with each thrust he is giving you. He reaches down between your rocking bodies, finding your clit and starts stroking and tormenting it until the waves of your pleasure wash over you and you shudder around his hard shaft.

“Cum for me, kitten. Cum on my cock right now,” he commands you with a rough pinch at your clit, and you come undone in a blissful climax while he keeps stroking his cock in and out of you.

Your bodies continue slapping against one another as he rides your orgasm. And he keeps going, continuing his steady thrusts until his body shudders against you as he finds his release, and he slides back into you as deep as he can for the last time as he lets himself go.

The sound of laboured breathes fill the room once you both fall silent in your slow recovery. It takes a moment before Yoongi finally steps back and releases you, keeping his arm around your waist to hold you steady while he reaches out to stop the shower from running.

“I can see now why they said that this therapy would be perfect for a bonding moment between couples. I’ve never had so much fun as I have today,” Yoongi teases you once you are both dry and fully clothed under the robe, stopping any chance of him initiating anything else while waiting for the staff to retrieve you from the shower room.

“I don’t think us getting frisky during the treatment and then after were the things that the staff meant when she talked about couples bonding over the therapy, though,” you respond while rolling your eyes.

Chuckling softly, Yoongi pulls you close to his chest. “Probably not,” he says. “But nobody can blame us for getting the best of it by going a few steps further.”

“Whatever you say,” you laugh at his playfulness, while almost forgetting that the day isn’t completely over yet. There is still a couple of other treatments that you will have to go through today before leaving the spa. Then you will be returning back to the cabin, where Yoongi will make good of his words yet again by claiming what he is owed.

But his illicit games and his punishments can wait. Right now, you just want to make use of all the healing that the spa can offer, and enjoy it together with your loving fiancé while the constant hum of your pleasure is still clinging onto you.

You hold his hand as you wait for the staff to come fetch you before taking you towards the next treatment, already feeling a new kind of excitement along with the contentment now surging through your body.

This trip may have its ups and downs at the beginning, but after what you shared with Yoongi for the past few hours alone, you can already tell that this is going to be an unforgettable getaway for the two of you.

One that you will definitely come to revisit in the future to find your sense of peace.

⤑ Author’s Note | Thank you for reading and for getting this far. Please kindly leave likes/kudos if you enjoyed the story, and also feel free to leave comments and questions if you have any. Any kind of feedback is also welcomed. Thank you again for reading!

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