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august126 · 2 months

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Zhongli: The masseur

✦ summary: Working a job that basically guaranteed no breaks unless it was an emergency was, understandably, overwhelming. Your body was aching and you were sure your joints would give in any day now. So when Ganyu suggested that you visit a massage parlor nearby, you immediately called to place an appointment.

✦ warnings: Vaginal Fingering,Rough Sex,Aphrodisiacs,Mating Press,Overstimulation, and Blindfolds

✦ notes:Be warned that this fic contains: Dubcon (Possibly noncon), consented touches which eventually turn into dubious consented touching and Thank you all so much,OMG 500 followers !!

The masseur

"Agh" Your back was so stiff— the muscle in your back was comparable to stone. After being hunched over your desk and being bombarded with work as a secretary for one of the higher-ranking managers in your company, you couldn’t help but daydream of a vacation and a break from your stressful lifestyle.

Alas, it wasn’t meant to be. The sighs that come from you are uncontrollable. A vacation would have been the greatest opportunity you would receive by the end of the week; however, the prospect of of finishing all work for good sounded a bit more appealing to you.

Another thing to curse about…

As Keqing says, maybe if your other lacking coworkers could actually pick themselves up and do half the work you were doing, life would not be this difficult for you.

A loud ding rings throughout the train, alerting you to the next stop that is quickly incoming. You grip your leather bookbag, lifting it off the seat before fixing up your blouse. You tense suddenly. Another stiff pass causes your body to wince. “... Ow…” It's hard to ignore the tense and electrifying pain in your back but you do your best, absent-mindedly reaching your hand up for the balance rings hanging above you.

Regret quickly shoots through you when you feel your fingertips brush over a soft surface instead of the usual metal. You just touched someone's hand by accident! "My apologies" You quickly look down and lower your hand back down. A light heat spreads through your face. You don’t dare to look at the man’s face but when you do, suddenly the regret doubles in weight.

This man was handsome— tall with lovely amber eyes and auburn silky hair that trailed down to his waist. You felt yourself become dry in the mouth as he chuckled lightly. “It’s no problem miss” His voice was deep and rich, almost vibrating deep in your consciousness.

You couldn't help but smile nervously, you apologize again before you excuse yourself for the exit. Disbelief coursed through you, it was early in the morning and you bumped into someone, how embarrassing! As if the pain in your back wasn't hard enough already, you just had to embarrass yourself and give yourself a different kind of humiliation.

Stopping in front of the train doors, you silently grumbled at yourself for being so inattentive. Maybe you should get yourself another cup of coffee. Just as you made mental notes to keep track of for the rest of the day, from the corner of your eye, you saw that the tall man had walked over to you and stopped right on your side.

Oh. He was leaving at the same stop.

Well, it’s not as if no one else was leaving at this stop. It was merely a coincidence and this small embarrassing bout was going to become a long memory. And yet for some reason or another… you couldn’t shake off your nerves.

…

A satisfied moan escapes you as you stretch your back out onto an arch, popping your spine and your hips. Finally, the work needed was halfway done. You weren’t sure if you’d be able to crunch out the rest of the statistics by the end of the day simply because of your back completely dying on you. But finished work is finished work.

Someone walks up to your desk, a laugh easing from their throat when their eyes gaze upon your pitiful self. “You know, [name], there’s this very popular massage place nearby the office. It’s two buildings down from our usual restaurant place, why don’t you go check it out?” Ganyu asks, pouring herself more cups of coffee while offering you some. That piques your interest. How could you forget those existed? A massage sounded like heaven sent to earth for you at the moment, your aching back was practically keening at the idea of a massage.

You inquired, excited to hear more about the parlor. “Have you tried it yourself Ganyu? How are the prices?” Ganyu presses her hand onto her chin for a bit, her coffee wafting deliciously in the air. She hums, "I distinctly remember that the prices were pretty affordable. At least under 800 mora"

That sounded amazing to you. For the first time in a long while, time quickly passes by during work. As soon as your hours were done you contacted the parlor to place an appointment. The hair on the back of your neck stands tall when you suddenly hear a monotone voice speak from the other side of the phone.

“Hello, this is the Wangsheng spa parlor” Swallowing your nerves, you also apply your service voice when you respond. “Hello good morning. I’m calling to inquire about your available time and available services?”

“We’re available today and the whole week onwards”

It was almost a dream come true to hear such news, you could hardly stop the bubbling excitement from your stomach. The squeal in you is quickly hushed to silence, you can barely keep your excitement to yourself as you inquire further about their services. Everything the receptionist lists after the initial introduction seemed normal, up until they mention something called—

“Special treatment? What’s that?” It caught you by surprise since you’ve never heard anything like it.

It seems like even their workers were having a hard time working with this new service because the receptionist sighs a bit in thought. “It’s.. an experimental sort of service where you are assigned a personal masseuse. They will provide any service that is included in our packages. However, compared to the other services, this package is a little over twice the price of normal packages” That definitely sounds extremely expensive and confusing. What makes this bundle deserving of such a price?

“How long will this package last for?” The receptionist takes a second before they get back to you, seemingly tending to other clients while you’re on the phone. He responds, “This package will last you five days” WHAT? Five days!? You were expecting an answer that rests between an hour and five, not an hour and five days! As you scramble for an answer, you trip over your own words unknowingly, “I-I only have to pay once for the entire service of five days?”

“That’s right ma’am” And that immediately solidifies your decision. “I would like to book an appointment”

…

The excitement from a few days ago is fully powering your body right now. After all that work and stress, you couldn’t wait to finally lay down and be taken care of. You double-check your bag for your essentials. Wallet, phone, a handkerchief… yeah, that was basically everything. Seeing as you’re about to get special treatment, you refrain from wearing your usual makeup.

Upon arriving at the building, your first impression is solidified. The parlor from the outside looks very luxurious and yet warm-looking. Well, with those kinds of prices any normal person would assume that the parlor could at least afford to spruce up the place. You shake your head. You’re not here to think about minute details, you were here to get a massage— maybe even a manicure and a facial.

You walk up to the parlor’s door, pushing onto the glass doors and inhaling the lovely aroma of the spa. It seems you weren’t the only person coveting this sort of leisure. You catch sight of many customers presumably waiting for a turn. By many, you meant that six ladies were waiting in the lounge area. Your stomach drops in your gut. Should you have come much earlier than eleven? How long will you be able to keep up your thinning comfort?

Walking up to the receptionist area, you greet the man who seems to have his attention elsewhere. You speak out, “Hello, I’m here for an appointment?”

The receptionist lifted his gaze from his phone, his expression suddenly brightening up as if he recognized you. After exchanging pleasantries and mentioning your appointment time, he pulls out a notebook from the desk drawer. "Right Miss.." He muttered. After opening up a page he slides the notebook over to you. Its pages were filled with printed words with a separate waiver laid on top of the notebook.

"Because this package is still in its experimental stage, we'd like for you to acknowledge that discomfort and unexpected outcomes may possibly occur. By signing this contract you are acknowledging that we are not liable for any pain or extraordinary services you may redeem" You didn't know that this package was so experimental that it needed a contract. But you've already gotten this far— there's no point in backing out now.

Taking the pen that was handed to you, you scribble down your name and your signature, handing back the notebook and the waiver after. The receptionist takes a glance over the notebook before tucking it away. They turn your attention to the hallway next to the receptionist’s desk. "Miss, please follow me"

"Um, am I not supposed to wait for my turn?" You nervously peek out of the corner of your eye and onto the other guests waiting. It seems that the other ladies have been waiting a while but the receptionist waves your concerns away.

"There's no need. The other clients availed a different package" Though it was not completely comforting, there truly is no room for arguments when you don’t entirely understand this whole package system they employed.

You were led to the higher floor of the building. The walls were painted a deep red, almost velvet. It gave the place a curious kind of atmosphere, not to mention the incense smoke wafting that was through the airways. Simply put, the parlor knew how to set the mood properly. The only illumination came from the ambient lighting placed deliberately around.

It takes no longer than a minute before you’re situated in your own private room.

The lighting in the room gave off a warm yellow, dimmed down just enough that you could see the silhouettes of the items in the room: oils were placed neatly on a table by the side, a massage table was placed in the middle of the room, and there was even a soft scent in the air.

The receptionist had told you to change your clothes into a bathrobe before he left. The bathrobe he was referring to was lying on top of the massage table, carefully prepared with a towel next to it. A sense of anticipation settles inside your gut as you sit on the massage table. Changing clothes was easy enough. You folded your shirt and your pants and then placed them on a table nearby right under your purse.

You entertain yourself with your phone for a while, double-checking for messages from your coworkers just in case they need anything from you. And they did, you could already see a couple emails asking what to do for certain tasks. A knock from the door interrupts your work-mode attitude, almost startling you. “Come- Oh oops, I’m decent” You call out as instructed by the receptionist earlier.

The doorknob clicks and it slowly opens. The saliva in your mouth dries out when the same man from the train entered the room. Handsome, tall with amber eyes and auburn silky hair. You notice that his uniform is a different color from the receptionists’. While the receptionist had a red theme this masseur was clad in a familiar brown and gold. You're nervous, even more when he flashes you a smile that could not be properly described as any other thing than elegant.

“Greetings, miss” His familiar voice was as deep as you remembered. Huh no wonder— His voice was befitting on a profession like this one.

You greet him the same, trying not to seem as nervous as you truly were. The chances of you seeing the man from train again on the same week was slim to none. You're quite lucky, aren't you? You couldn’t believe that the masseur you had for the day was the same person you had embarrassed yourself in front of. It definitely didn’t make you nervous, not at all haha.

The masseur locks the door behind him close. Now standing parallel to you, he bows his head as a gesture. “My name is Zhongli, I will be your masseur for the entirety of this service”

Zhongli gestures to the massaging table with his hand, smiling courteously. “We will start when you’re ready. Would you like some refreshments before we begin? Tea? Coffee? Tea is a very popular option here in the parlor. Our tea has been personally selected from specific locations for the best quality” He could speak on and on, forever even, and you wouldn't be mad at it. “Then I’d like some tea please” You answer, wanting to ease some of the anxious nerves you had built up. The nervous little smile you wore was hard to miss though Zhongli only nods before excusing himself to grab refreshments.

You curse yourself almost immediately when you are left alone. That man from the train is your masseur!? Could you change masseurs? Is there time enough left for you to back out of the service and run away as quickly as you can?

He comes back in a bit, holding a tray of tea like you requested. “Today we have a special batch of osmanthus tea. This brand is locally produced in the northern town of Qingce, and this batch was specifically bred for a calmer fragrance compared to its usual overpowering counterpart. We hope it is to your satisfaction” The tray is set on the table near your reach. You thank the masseur for his effort.

He moves to the table full of body oil, lighting up an incense stick before setting it aside to burn out. You nervously pick up your cup and inhale the unfamiliar smell emanating from the liquid— it was a different kind of tea compared to what you’re used to but it was not any less pleasant.

The hot tea warmed your tense muscles, settling pleasantly in your stomach. The empty cup is placed back onto the tray and you’re now ready for the service. To say that you were nervous about being naked in front of a man was an understatement, you had no idea that these were going to be the circumstances you were about to be under. However, you understand that complaining about such details went completely against all the prayers you've sent to the archons.

"I'm ready" It comes out really pathetic. It seems you'd only need to bite the bullet and accept it.

Zhongli had already picked up a specific bottle of oil to use. Upon seeing you eagerly gazing at him, he settles a hand on your shoulder, his thumb hooking around the collar of your bathrobe. As if he was confused he asks, “Miss, shall I remove this for you?”

Heat immediately invades every inch of your body. You stammer an answer out of you that is almost indiscernible because of how soft it had come out. The masseur probably heard a ‘no need’ from all of that and he retracted his hand. Hesitantly, you undo the straps you tied around the bathrobe. The collar dips down from your shoulder, exposing your top half.

You then slipped the bathrobe off, carefully folding the thick garment before maneuvering it over your hips. The colder air of the room nips at your exposed skin yet the firm gaze of Zhongli sends harsher pulsing sensations down your entirety.

"Please" Your masseur gestures for you to lay on the table and you obey, your limbs move awkwardly when you lower yourself onto your front, positioning your face to fit into the hole of the table. The floor is all you can see and you can barely hold onto the bathrobe covering your lower half in place.

Relax…

A shiver runs up your spine when you finally feel his fingertips graze your skin. The touch was unexpected and yet all you could focus on was the fact that his fingers were warm. Finally, the massage was about to begin. You attempt to keep yourself preoccupied with other things to focus on, like the fingers running up and down your skin.

This warmth suddenly latches onto the bathrobe over your hips and you seize up. You aren't able to turn your face to look at Zhongli before he abruptly moves. "Oh, it seems you've forgotten to discard these. No matter, I will do it for you"

Before a word could leave your mouth, the open air suddenly caressed the skin of your hips and below. That enough would have made your heart stop, yet Zhongli proved to be unpredictable when the warm touch of his hand started sliding up your hips. Hooking his middle finger along the waistbands of your panties, he slowly drags the piece of clothing down your legs. A gasp is ripped from your throat once you realize what just happened, slightly trembling as the air meets your most intimate area.

"Zh-Zhon—" "Now this" The man speaks, probably not hearing the pathetic squeaks from your mouth while he turns his attention to the clip of your bra. It doesn't take long before the itchy confines of your chest are pulled away with Zhongli's assistance.

Your mind races in confusion. Was this how all massages went?? You couldn't remember the last time you had a professional massage but.. do you ever remember feeling this exposed before? You remain silent, body slightly trembling and stress increasing.

Relax...

You weren't given the privilege to linger on the thought any longer before you felt the cold traces of oil spill on your back. Arching in surprise, a squeak leaves you when his large palms press into your back, the size almost covering the width of your back completely had they been angled perfectly. “Mmph..!” Air is lightly squeezed out of you when the palms press upward towards your shoulder blades, his thumbs applying more pressure into the crevices of your bones.

“Ah…” The beginning of the massage was surprisingly forceful, the movement easing through your tense muscles as quickly as it could. The area left behind by the oil and the pressure was warm, you could tell that your blood circulation was increasing due to how red-tinted your shoulder was becoming. The strength of the massage was strategically becoming more gentle the longer the massage went on, going easier on spots he understood were too tender.

Zhongli’s hands drift lower to your hips, applying pressure to your hip bones and then back up your spine. This particular area seems to be sensitive— proven by the soft noises that are squeezed out of you with each pass. Noises came out of you in soft hums like whimpers and sighs of satisfaction, you didn't know that your hips were suffering just like your back was. This massage was amazing.

The massage, despite the odd circumstances of the beginning, was already taking great effect on you. The aching spots that have been begging for attention on your back were finally being tended to, your cold arms were massaged with strong but firm hands, and the top of your hips were properly thumbed down. Your spine was still suffering from tingles, but at least it was of the pleasurable kind. You groan embarrassingly loud after one certain press and you pray Zhongli moved on from it.

His palms pressed down into your hips, going lower and lower until he held your ass in each palm. He presses hard against the fat, successfully pushing onto the muscle that ached under it. A grateful sigh escapes you. Zhongli took his time kneading through the skin, doing his best to target certain spots— which took a few minutes.

You were extremely close to dozing off when Zhongli returned his attention to your shoulder blades. The pain also came with pleasure, and with each calculated press of his strength, the uncomfortable knots in your back unwind. Each press of his hands was rewarded with a soft squeak or moan of appreciation from you. Every once in a while you would hiss in pain when a spot was overdone. Zhongli returned the massage back up your back for a while, circling your spine and around your shoulders to avoid overworking the rest.

"[name]?" You could barely hear his voice through the thick fog of your mind. Zhongli was calling out to you during your sleepy daze, barely coherent due to your lacking presence of mind. Thankfully, he still hears a hum from you as a response. "Could you lift up your leg for a moment? We will be working on your calf" You gave him permission to move your leg as he needed but by then you were already slumbering in content.

The massage was almost done and you were finally out cold. The incense stick continues to burn, and it seems its effects are finally taking an effect on you. Zhongli lifts his eyes to your hips, seeing the area between your legs glisten with need. He hums, the incense he prepared was too slow-acting. He made sure to take note of using another kind next time.

Slowly, you awoke from a nap. Everything was heavy. It felt as if your muscles had turned into weights, at the same time it felt soft and tender. And all this was because of the massage.

Wait... the massage! As quickly as you could, with heavy emphasis on could, you lifted yourself from the table and looked around the dim room to look for your masseur. You find that the room is empty and tidied up.

You check your phone and see that you've been asleep for three hours. It surprises you to see that you've been sleeping for as long as you did. Luckily it was still quite a long way before the parlor closed.

For some reason your body was extremely sensitive, your nipples especially so. When you try to put your underwear on, you're mortified when you realize that... the area between your legs is dripping wet. "He didn't see me like this did he..?" You quickly put it on, doing your best to ignore the way the wet cloth clung on. You don't think you could put your bra on, your breasts were simply too sensitive for them to be clinging on for now. Hopefully the fact that you're braless is not evident to other people.

After packing everything you own you leave the room, carefully walking down the stairs to the reception room. You felt so incredibly tired and yet satisfied at the same time, you could already tell that sleep later was about to be heavenly.

The receptionist greets you when you pass by and you quickly return the gesture. Truthfully, you just wanted to get home as quickly as you could and sleep. You weren't in the particular mood to be chatting or exchanging pleasantries. Not to mention, the fact that you were bare breasted under your shirt was making you incredibly conscious.

"Come back tomorrow, miss! You have four days left" The receptionist calls out before you ran out of the building.

...

The next day couldn't come any slower. When you woke up every inch of your body was basically glowing. The aftermath of the massage and the bath you took right after left you completely relaxed. Muscles relaxed, ass tender, calves soft like mochi, and feet pinching in pain after the knots inside were untied. You open your phone to check the messages your coworkers left the day before that you couldn't tend to immediately.

Right away you see coworkers asking how to handle the tasks— that they were responsible for in the first place— and why there was so much to do. You could already feel the harsh physical memory of stress appearing despite your previous glow. Scrolling past these messages, it seems that Ganyu and Keqing had messaged you after your coworkers had made up a fuss.

'Just ignore any messages from the others, you're on official vacation'

'Enjoy your time [name]! Let's go eat out this week' Their words make you smile. You truly appreciating your friends for looking out for you.

You close your phone after responding to them. To your clueless coworkers, you leave them to suffer the consequences of their incompetence. The time indicates that your next session for a massage is around two hours from now. Was it too soon to be getting another massage? Well, you could always ask for a facial as it is a part of the bundle you availed. And so, you get ready for another day of relaxation.

The receptionist greets you once again when you step into the parlor. You're embarrassed for being so discourteous yesterday but fortunately enough he glosses over it. You approach the desk, smiling comfortably. "Could I ask for a facial today?" The request is written down in a record notebook. "Of course. Will you also be availing another massage session?" Another one? Well, why not right? You did enjoy feeling like putty for a while, you might as well enjoy this while you can.

"Sure, when will it be beginning?" You ask, removing the sling of your bag from your shoulder to prepare to settle in the waiting room. However, the receptionist points over to the hallway before you can sit down. He's enthusiastic when he says,

"Right now"

You're now back in the same room as the previous appointment with your bag tucked away and your clothes folded to the side. Despite your main request for a facial you were still asked to strip down and wear their bathrobe. The facial itself was done by another person who specialized in the process and now you were simply waiting for your masseur. The facial itself was great, the surface of your skin was as soft as powder.

The wait was a bit daunting— you still couldn't get over who your masseur was, or the fact that he had already seen you naked. Right, you should probably ask why you were meant to be naked instead of semi-clothed, was it a special thing they did?

A knock jolts you out of your little train of thought. It must be Zhongli so you call him in. The brunette peeks through the door, closing it behind him after you greet him. The dim lights barely illuminate the golden patterns of his uniform. "Good day to you again miss, shall we do the same massage as yesterday or will you try a new kind today?" You weren't aware that there were other kinds of massages. If there were other kinds then it wouldn't hurt to try them. You voice these ideas to Zhongli and he understood.

The masseur walks over to the table full of items, picking through bottles of oil and sticks of incense while you kept yourself occupied with your bathrobe, untying the garment before hesitantly placing it aside. Your breasts immediately react to the air but you pay little attention as you rush to remove the remaining garment around your hips. You hid those items before positioning yourself back on the massage table. The dim lights were probably enough to give you some amount of dignity. The questions in your head are pushed to the side, overwhelmed by the want to relax and be stress-free.

The fewer questions the better, as Ganyu says.

Before long the smell of an incense stick wafts through the air and you relax. Footsteps approach your side and a bottle is placed on a surface next to you. A shiver runs up your spine when the cold contact of the oil meets your skin. It is quickly spread through the entirety of your back, quickly covering the surface area. The massage began as it did before.

A few minutes into it Zhongli had successfully wrung your back out into putty—your body was tingling with satisfaction. It looked as if your mind was quickly following suit. You involuntarily shivered when his palms pressed against a sensitive area on your waist. There was a pause to the massage but there were many reasons to believe that you were too far gone to realize how pathetic your moan had come out. Zhongli slowly circled his thumbs on your waist, hesitating when your moans came out as if you were crying.

"Uhn..!" Followed by a soft gasp.

Zhongli detaches his hands from your back and attempts to wake you. "Miss..?" You groan, barely waking up to the sound of his deep voice. He repeats his request, "Could you please sit up for me?"

Sit up? Like this?

You could barely keep your back straight, barely keep awake in fact, but now you're sitting with your legs crossed on the massage table like you were asked to. The masseur approaches close behind you, bringing his hands up and down your waist whilst thumbing certain areas that leave you groaning. They wander farther up until they rest right under your breasts. You're confused, is this something new like he said earlier? Which method was this?

His palms lay against your peaks, your perked tits pressed right against the middle of his hands. They're so sensitive, each moment of contact was doing alarming things to your body, especially your lower half. Now you're made aware of what's happening down below.

Between your thighs feels like a sloppy mess, sticking to the table and making a mess everywhere. Strikes of pleasurable bolts continue to paralyze your limbs with each pressure your tits endure.

His fingers clench and unclench to massage the fat of your chest, his fingertips running from end to end until they find themselves wrapped around your nipples. "Ahh" You sigh, thighs clenching at the confusing connection your breasts had to your lower nerves. Any time he pinched with light pressure your pussy would hurt a bit too.

Warmth began to moisten up the silken sheets under you but you couldn't say a word as the massage to your tits halted. His hands pulled away. Your consciousness spirals as the scent of the oil, the fumes of the lit incense, and the satisfying massage all went straight to your head.

You felt tranquil, calm, and... bothered.

You were then instructed to lay back on the bed. This time though, you were supposed to lay on your back. And you did without much thought into it. Zhongli takes a towel from the side, folding the cloth before he lays it over your eyes. It was a bit damp, acting like an eye mask due to the water it was soaked in.

"Here, could you help me raise your knees to your chest? I need to access the back of your thighs properly" Hands shaking, not a question nor doubt passed your mind as you held the back of your knees, pulling them up as per instruction by Zhongli. Your knees were pushed further up onto your chest with the guidance of his hands. The massage kept your body light and soft, it was easy to get to the position comfortably.

Jolts rocked your body as cold oil dripped upon your thighs, quickly warmed by your masseur's palms massaging up and down your thighs. You sigh when the oil begins to warm up from the friction. Pressure pressed upon your soft skin, the man's thumb pinched the fat before lowering his touch down to your ass.

The area down there was glistening under the illumination, anytime Zhongli circled his thumb on your thighs, he was rewarded with an even better sight.

His thumbs press just outside the slit of your pussy, close but not quite close enough to touch your dripping cunt. The sudden contact made you jump again, unexpecting. Your pussy was yearning, begging for something—your breasts were the same, they were already missing the palms that held them earlier.

For some reason or another, the temptation to ask him to massage down there too was barely hanging off your tongue. Though you needn't utter a word as Zhongli's thumb suddenly travels up to your clit, his pads and its pressure sending a bolt of pleasure up your entire body. "!!!" You gasp, suddenly gushing all over Zhongli’s hand due to the light pressure. No protest leaves your panting lips when the finger returns to give your clit attention. The consistent caress of your pussy continues to drive you over the edge.

Your lower half throbs and cramps in pain, almost as if you needed to be massaged there too. The sudden turn of events does not register in your brain, but the need to be satisfied was the only thing you could and wanted to think about.

"Miss, I'll be putting something.. here so that I'll be able to massage you inside, will that be okay?" Zhongli drags his thumb from your clit to your twitching hole, now teasing the entrance with slow passionate pressure.

Mind numb, you mumble something close to a sound of confirmation. Even though you weren't exactly sure what you agreed upon, anything to satiate the growing pains inside you was welcome.

Zhongli detached his hand from your lower half and you whimper, the hold you had on your legs tighten. The sounds of rustling clothes echo through your drumming ears. Some things were being set aside, it sounded like it was made from cloth because of its silent thud. Metal click together. The massage table creaks under a sudden weight.

Finally you feel something press up against your pussy. It was hot, just like the oil whenever Zhongli rubbed it against your skin. When it was pushed up and down against your cunt you could feel hard lines on it, it glided easily against your wet self, almost as if it was oiled up as well. When it snagged against your clit, it sent rushes of pleasure into you, only accentuating the need of your entrance.

The thing is positioned over your hole, its tip evidently pressing against the rim. You could feel Zhongli's thumb return over your clit.

"Haahnmh..!?" The pressure is slow and slightly painful as it pushes into you. You're confused, afraid almost, but you're too tired and drowsy to ask any questions. Something pops inside you, your pussy hole stretching wide to a size you never felt before. The sweet caressing upon your clit does not let up, and the entrance of whatever this hard object was overwhelming you.. too much..!! Your tongue lolls out of your lips, your mouth widening in a silent scream as the hard object continues to grow in girth and length inside you.

Tears well up your eyes, your arms tensing up around your legs as the painful stretch descends down into a pulsing pleasure inside you. Zhongli's name babbles out your mouth, your hand trembling as it attempts to look for the man responsible for the massage. You are stopped in your tracks when the object stills inside you for a few moments, allowing you to feel every inch of it. Your searching hand returns to clutch your leg, mouth gasping wide.

Thick, hard, and pulsing hot. Its exterior veiny, pressing against your crevices and needy spots. It was as if you were impaled on an oddly shaped rock and every once in a while, it pulsed.

It felt like forever since anything had moved, Zhongli hadn't even uttered a single word either. At least, you think he hasn’t, the slight ringing in your hypersensitive ears didn’t allow you to hear much while you gasped for air. What was this.. It was big, too big! What in Archons' name was this!?

You whimper when it pulls back out, stopping only midway. Suddenly, it pulls back and is roughly shoved back inside. The item is now an inch deeper inside you, thicker, and ever more daunting. Tears brim your eyes, becoming absorbed into the towel over you. Your muscles tense up in shock and pleasure, your pussy absolutely gushing around the length and your legs springing out in surprise. A single hand catches the back of your thighs, pinning them back down to your chest.

It was like a warning. A warning to keep still and behave.

"Dear, try to relax and enjoy the massage" None of the words reached your brain. Your pussy did all of the thinking for you. The pain was quickly mixing with the pleasure.

It began to move softly inside you, the wide base of the item is rubbing against the fat of your ass, its hanging appendage pressing against your other hole. Grinding against you, Zhongli began to shallowly thrust into you, not attempting to pull the thing back out. He is rewarded with quiet squeals of pleasure. His tip was pressing against the soft wall of your pussy and each time he grinds or delivers shallow thrusts, it digs in harder.

Zhongli hisses when he feels your tight walls tense up, leaving him stunned when he realized you had cummed over some grinding.

His rock-solid patience was eroding quite quickly. The fact that your cute body was trembling and your pussy was gushing all over him, he could hold back no longer. "Ngghk!" You choke when his dick pulls itself forcefully out of you, only leaving the tip inside. With his grip on your back knees tightening, he braces himself before he shoves everything back in one go.

An ear-piercing squeal is choked up immediately. The hard cock inside you was harshly pulled back and shoved back inside, its angle moving to reach a spot more deserving of your pleasured moans. The thick thing was moving inside you erratically, the apex of it pressing harshly against the deepest part of you.

“ Zhong-Zhongli..!! ” The gentle pressure against your clit returns and you swear you could hear the call of the heavens, ironically enough. You’ve never felt anything like this before, it was overwhelming! You feel your mind slipping deeper and deeper into a lustful daze, eventually hitting a high that only made you want more and more.

“NGHAAH-!” Your muscles tense up once more, your pussy gushing with vigor. The massage does not stop, it doesn’t even falter when you don’t feel yourself stop cumming. The grip on your skin stings but the constant stretch of your pussy walls and abuse of a spot leaves you more to desire than dislike. The climax gushes everywhere, coating both of your skin and the table under you. The consistent slapping of your skin turns sloppy and wet.

Your thighs and the sheets under you are suddenly drenched further by another climax from you. Through the wet plapping, you hear a distinct sound that sounds like deep sighs. These deep sighs eventually turn to light grunting the longer the massage went. The flicks on your clit turn into vibration and circulation, sending you into a higher form of existence.

The oiled parts of your body rub into each other, your tits specifically, making this a much more heavenly experience. The strokes steadily slow down, turning from fast and aimed thrusts to deep and purposeful.

Throwing your head back, a scream is ripped out of you when Zhongli sends you one last deep thrust. The tip spurts something into you for a second before this object pulls back, its tip almost completely exiting from you before it is again driven deep into you. Something warm and filling squeezes into the cracks between the object and your pussy walls, filling you deep inside with a warm substance. The thick mixture of your cum and the solution spurts out of your hole harshly.

Your muscles completely melt into the sheets. Your tired legs aching as Zhongli loosens his grip on the back of our knees. Suddenly, the discomfort of your hips make itself known, throbbing as your legs are gently placed back onto the massage table. The exhaustion from the massage catches up to you quickly and you almost drift off. The adrenaline from the massage keeps you awake and sensitive though, each passing breath sent bolts back down to your pussy again.

However, you weren't aware that the object inside you was still, in fact, inside. Squeaks escape you when the thing thrusts inside you twice, one shallow and one harsher before it slowly pulls out of you completely. Your pussy hole twitches, leaking the warm substance that was squirted inside you. Zhongli's deep hum resonates inside you.

A question lingers in your tongue but it is quickly choked up as thick fingers drag up your pussy, most likely getting his fingertips wet. Two fingertips swirl and flick your clit again.

You panic, “M-Mister Zhongli, why don’t we take a b-break-!?” The two fingers are replaced with his thumb whilst another pressure finds itself tugging and lightly pinching at your breasts again.

Two hard fingers plunge themselves back into your pussy, curling and thrusting to its hilt. Your voice is replaced by gasping moans, thighs trembling harshly as the vicious attack on your sensitive pussy resumes. The liquid that was inside you spills out onto his palm and back around your clit, his thumb flicking the sloppy mixture onto it. You beg for him to wait, squealing with your thighs wrapped around his arm when he brings you into another climax.

It takes no second longer for your pussy to clench around his finger and gush all over him. Muscles tense and your voice breaks at the mind-blowing orgasm that was ripped out of you after your first one not long ago.

You wail and sob when the assault on your pussy does not stop, only prolonging your orgasm by plunging his fingers in more. The bed dips as Zhongli's knees find a new angle, his cock now once again at attention for more. His fingers curl one last time before it is ripped out, only being replaced by a familiar weight.

Oxygen finds it heavy to enter your body because of how greedy you take a lot of it in and out. You can only squeal as Zhongli presses this thing back into your cunt.

…

It was late afternoon when you had woken up from the session. Again, you woke up alone and you were wobbling as if you were boneless. Unexpectedly, your hair was done in a respectable hairstyle and your clothes were placed much closer so you could reach them. A note sits on top of your clothes.

"The massage was stopped halfway today, please call this number so we may continue outside of work hours" Behind the beautifully written note is a number.

You did your best to dress yourself up but your tender body made it really difficult to do so. Standing up was especially difficult. Whenever you push yourself up with your arms they tremble and when you sit up your spine curls like a noodle.

Despite this, you stood up and walked out of the room.

However, you couldn't even take two steps forward before you hear something behind you.

"Miss" An ever-familiar deep voice calls out to you and you pause, feeling your face burn up in heat again. A familiar sensation makes itself known throughout your body. You hesitate, your heart racing. But eventually you turn to the masseur, smiling nervously when his amber eyes meet yours. "Y-Yes?"

His usual expression remains, unmoving like stone. The smile on his face is so casual, you would not have guessed what he was doing a couple hours prior. Zhongli says, "Be careful on your way down. It is not advisable for clients to be up and about carrying things. You may drop them" The note you were clutching between your fingers is gripped onto tighter.

Before you could take a step out of the parlor, the receptionist calls out once again.

"Come back soon miss! Your package lasts for three more days"

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x you #zhongli x reader #zhongli x you #zhongli x y/n #zhongli smut #genshin zhongli #genshin zhongli x reader #genshin impact zhongli smut #female reader

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rowarn · 19 days

Text

i crave toxic cod men but not like dark content toxic i mean like ANGST. like simon, who brings home the trauma and hurt from a recent deployment, and drinks the pain away. when you try to stop him, try to get him to seek help that's not at the bottom of a bottle, it explodes in your face and your ears ring from how loudly he shouts and tears run down your cheeks as you look at the holes his fist put into the drywall, knowing damn well that if he had a little less self control it would have been you taking those blows.

or kyle who is so sweet and kind that you just can't help but fall for him. he knows about your crush and he thinks it's cute. the problem is that he's not home long enough to maintain a proper relationship. but he likes the attention you give him and he could see himself being with you. but he's not really that good of a man. intentionally leads you on, makes you think you're an exclusive item - he doesn't even correct you when you call him your boyfriend. but he's not serious about you, he's still fucking whatever hole he can get whenever he can when you're not available. he thinks it's cute that you actually think you're together, maybe even a little pathetic.

soap who, like gaz, likes to lead you on. but he's meaner about it. talks shit to his friends after you've had a night together, laughing about the cute idiot that thinks him their boyfriend. have you seen him? what about john mactavish seems like boyfriend material - a man in the military with more problems than he can count, come on. it's your own fault when you get your feelings hurt when you find him getting tit pics while hes still laying in bed with you after fucking your brains out.

price who is just so painfully inattentive that it hurts. flat out ignores your existence when when you're in the same house as him. the only time he gives you the time of day is when his cocks hard or when you've pissed him off with all your whining. he'll call you immature, telling you it was a mistake to date someone like you - whiny and needy. he needs space, don't you understand? he won't listen when you tell him there's a difference between space and neglect. ):

#yummy #rowarnings

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mostlysignssomeportents · 9 months

Text

Supervised AI isn't

It wasn't just Ottawa: Microsoft Travel published a whole bushel of absurd articles, including the notorious Ottawa guide recommending that tourists dine at the Ottawa Food Bank ("go on an empty stomach"):

https://twitter.com/parismarx/status/1692233111260582161

After Paris Marx pointed out the Ottawa article, Business Insider's Nathan McAlone found several more howlers:

https://www.businessinsider.com/microsoft-removes-embarrassing-offensive-ai-assisted-travel-articles-2023-8

There was the article recommending that visitors to Montreal try "a hamburger" and went on to explain that a hamburger was a "sandwich comprised of a ground beef patty, a sliced bun of some kind, and toppings such as lettuce, tomato, cheese, etc" and that some of the best hamburgers in Montreal could be had at McDonald's.

For Anchorage, Microsoft recommended trying the local delicacy known as "seafood," which it defined as "basically any form of sea life regarded as food by humans, prominently including fish and shellfish," going on to say, "seafood is a versatile ingredient, so it makes sense that we eat it worldwide."

In Tokyo, visitors seeking "photo-worthy spots" were advised to "eat Wagyu beef."

There were more.

Microsoft insisted that this wasn't an issue of "unsupervised AI," but rather "human error." On its face, this presents a head-scratcher: is Microsoft saying that a human being erroneously decided to recommend the dining at Ottawa's food bank?

But a close parsing of the mealy-mouthed disclaimer reveals the truth. The unnamed Microsoft spokesdroid only appears to be claiming that this wasn't written by an AI, but they're actually just saying that the AI that wrote it wasn't "unsupervised." It was a supervised AI, overseen by a human. Who made an error. Thus: the problem was human error.

This deliberate misdirection actually reveals a deep truth about AI: that the story of AI being managed by a "human in the loop" is a fantasy, because humans are neurologically incapable of maintaining vigilance in watching for rare occurrences.

Our brains wire together neurons that we recruit when we practice a task. When we don't practice a task, the parts of our brain that we optimized for it get reused. Our brains are finite and so don't have the luxury of reserving precious cells for things we don't do.

That's why the TSA sucks so hard at its job – why they are the world's most skilled water-bottle-detecting X-ray readers, but consistently fail to spot the bombs and guns that red teams successfully smuggle past their checkpoints:

https://www.nbcnews.com/news/us-news/investigation-breaches-us-airports-allowed-weapons-through-n367851

TSA agents (not "officers," please – they're bureaucrats, not cops) spend all day spotting water bottles that we forget in our carry-ons, but almost no one tries to smuggle a weapons through a checkpoint – 99.999999% of the guns and knives they do seize are the result of flier forgetfulness, not a planned hijacking.

In other words, they train all day to spot water bottles, and the only training they get in spotting knives, guns and bombs is in exercises, or the odd time someone forgets about the hand-cannon they shlep around in their day-pack. Of course they're excellent at spotting water bottles and shit at spotting weapons.

This is an inescapable, biological aspect of human cognition: we can't maintain vigilance for rare outcomes. This has long been understood in automation circles, where it is called "automation blindness" or "automation inattention":

https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/29939767/

Here's the thing: if nearly all of the time the machine does the right thing, the human "supervisor" who oversees it becomes incapable of spotting its error. The job of "review every machine decision and press the green button if it's correct" inevitably becomes "just press the green button," assuming that the machine is usually right.

This is a huge problem. It's why people just click "OK" when they get a bad certificate error in their browsers. 99.99% of the time, the error was caused by someone forgetting to replace an expired certificate, but the problem is, the other 0.01% of the time, it's because criminals are waiting for you to click "OK" so they can steal all your money:

https://finance.yahoo.com/news/ema-report-finds-nearly-80-130300983.html

Automation blindness can't be automated away. From interpreting radiographic scans:

https://healthitanalytics.com/news/ai-could-safely-automate-some-x-ray-interpretation

to autonomous vehicles:

https://newsroom.unsw.edu.au/news/science-tech/automated-vehicles-may-encourage-new-breed-distracted-drivers

The "human in the loop" is a figleaf. The whole point of automation is to create a system that operates at superhuman scale – you don't buy an LLM to write one Microsoft Travel article, you get it to write a million of them, to flood the zone, top the search engines, and dominate the space.

As I wrote earlier: "There's no market for a machine-learning autopilot, or content moderation algorithm, or loan officer, if all it does is cough up a recommendation for a human to evaluate. Either that system will work so poorly that it gets thrown away, or it works so well that the inattentive human just button-mashes 'OK' every time a dialog box appears":

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/21/let-me-summarize/#i-read-the-abstract

Microsoft – like every corporation – is insatiably horny for firing workers. It has spent the past three years cutting its writing staff to the bone, with the express intention of having AI fill its pages, with humans relegated to skimming the output of the plausible sentence-generators and clicking "OK":

https://www.businessinsider.com/microsoft-news-cuts-dozens-of-staffers-in-shift-to-ai-2020-5

We know about the howlers and the clunkers that Microsoft published, but what about all the other travel articles that don't contain any (obvious) mistakes? These were very likely written by a stochastic parrot, and they comprised training data for a human intelligence, the poor schmucks who are supposed to remain vigilant for the "hallucinations" (that is, the habitual, confidently told lies that are the hallmark of AI) in the torrent of "content" that scrolled past their screens:

https://dl.acm.org/doi/10.1145/3442188.3445922

Like the TSA agents who are fed a steady stream of training data to hone their water-bottle-detection skills, Microsoft's humans in the loop are being asked to pluck atoms of difference out of a raging river of otherwise characterless slurry. They are expected to remain vigilant for something that almost never happens – all while they are racing the clock, charged with preventing a slurry backlog at all costs.

Automation blindness is inescapable – and it's the inconvenient truth that AI boosters conspicuously fail to mention when they are discussing how they will justify the trillion-dollar valuations they ascribe to super-advanced autocomplete systems. Instead, they wave around "humans in the loop," using low-waged workers as props in a Big Store con, just a way to (temporarily) cool the marks.

And what of the people who lose their (vital) jobs to (terminally unsuitable) AI in the course of this long-running, high-stakes infomercial?

Well, there's always the food bank.

"Go on an empty stomach."

Going to Burning Man? Catch me on Tuesday at 2:40pm on the Center Camp Stage for a talk about enshittification and how to reverse it; on Wednesday at noon, I'm hosting Dr Patrick Ball at Liminal Labs (6:15/F) for a talk on using statistics to prove high-level culpability in the recruitment of child soldiers.

On September 6 at 7pm, I'll be hosting Naomi Klein at the LA Public Library for the launch of Doppelganger.

On September 12 at 7pm, I'll be at Toronto's Another Story Bookshop with my new book The Internet Con: How to Seize the Means of Computation.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/23/automation-blindness/#humans-in-the-loop

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

West Midlands Police (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/westmidlandspolice/8705128684/

CC BY-SA 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/

#pluralistic #automation blindness #humans in the loop #stochastic parrots #habitual confident liars #ai #artificial intelligence #llms #large language models #microsoft

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bloompompom · 3 months

Text

Cold, Cold, Cold | ONE-SHOT

for always acting so cold toward one another, it really didn't take much for things to heat up...

✧ content: ~5.8k word count. eren jaeger x female reader, modern au, dubcon due to marijuana use, switch!eren/reader, haters to hate-fuckers, okay maybe you have a soft spot for one another idk, dry humping, light choking, f!fingering, degradation themes, dirty talk, spit play, rough sex, dacryphilia, unprotected sex, facial, explicit sexual content, explicit language. reader discretion advised. 18+ only

Your footsteps thundered in rapid fire, rattling the whole damn staircase. From porch to back deck, anyone in the Kirsteins’ chalet could hear you coming. And they did.

If they had to bet on where—or to whom—you were missiling toward, the odds would be disproportionately in their favor.

“Here we go again,” Connie muttered. He reached for the six-pack he had just carried inside and cracked open his first beer of the day.

The rest of your friends, all four of them, put their heads down—not to be confused with inattention. It was a spectacle the same way a car wreck was a spectacle, something they didn’t want to witness directly but held their attention just enough.

The fifth, your not-friend, sighed. Like everyone else, he anticipated you rushing here in your hot fury. The only difference was he knew he was the target.

The pitter-patter of your feet echoed through the hall. The tile felt icy beneath you, your skin still shower-hot and sweltering with vexation.

“What the hell is your problem?” you roared as you rounded the corner. “Haven’t you ever heard of knocking?”

Eren, your not friend who arguably wasn’t worth referring to by name, scoffed. You were baiting him, he knew that. Even so, he wasn’t above getting swept up in some senseless arguing. In fact, he would be hard-pressed to pass it up.

You were making a much bigger deal than he thought necessary. You were actually making an entire show of it, he thought, marching right up to him like you were any more intimidating than a mouse.

He only loured down at you, already bored of your antics. “Haven’t you ever heard of locking the door?”

If it wasn’t clear by this point, Eren had walked in on something he shouldn’t have, and God, you could kill him for it.

Not long ago, you were one of the first guests to arrive for your week-long getaway. Jean stood in the doorway to his family’s vacation home and ushered you and Mikasa aside. He gave you a tour of the place, showing you the room the two of you would share. Then, he pointed you to the bathroom; you were in desperate need of a shower to liven up after the car ride.

The running water drowned out the shudder of the front door and the boisterous greetings between everyone downstairs. You didn’t know anyone else had even arrived. You were contented, properly warmed from the outdoors, and humming as you stepped out of the shower, taking in the chic stone-clad bathroom.

You didn’t recognize the click of the door when you should have. You were standing there, towel-dried and as bare as could be, and everything that came next happened in a blurry blink of an eye.

It remained indiscernible which happened first: your horror-movie-worthy shriek—because as much as you didn’t want Eren to see you naked, he startled you even more—or his brief, “Shit. Sorry.” Either way, it happened, but why of all people did it have to be him?

Thankfully, he shut the door just as quickly, leaving you to contemplate if the snow would cushion your jump out the window to escape.

In total, it took less than an hour for you to regret your choice to come.

“I already said I was sorry. What more do you want?” Eren chided. “It was an accident.”

“Yeah, right. You knew it’d make me mad, that’s why you did it,” you snapped.

Eren snorted like you were being ridiculous. “Do you try to find reasons to be pissed off all the time, or are you just like that?”

“That’s you, not me.”

“Only because of you.”

Mikasa wedged herself between you and Eren like she had before. It hadn’t happened many times, but more than you would have liked. Enough that you could no longer count it on your fingers.

“Cut it out already!” Her glare shifted from you to Eren, making it loud and clear the message was for both of you.

Before either of you could say anything for yourselves, Jean threw himself into the mix next. “Would it kill you to play nice for a week?”

“For me?” Mikasa pitched her voice higher, sweeter, and her eyes were soft.

She was the only reason you were here. Her birthday was two days away, and Jean volunteered to host the celebration. You were surprised he extended the invitation; you were friends only through Mikasa. But she insisted it wouldn’t be her birthday without all her friends. So, as her very best one, you agreed to it with a big, fake smile and gritted teeth.

Now that you were here, you couldn’t leave even if you wanted to; Mikasa drove.

After a day spent traveling, it wasn’t exactly the celebratory first night everyone expected, but no one complained. By the time a movie was settled on, Armin had already gone to bed upstairs, and Sasha passed out not long after. And by the look of it, Connie would be next, having made himself comfortable against her shoulder.

But that was boring. And out of everything Eren could do then—his options were limited—sleeping sounded the least appealing, even when compared to chatting you up.

He only considered it because Mikasa had pulled him aside earlier. She ‘strongly advised’ him to be the bigger person, if not for her than for the sake of enjoying the rest of the week.

So when Eren noticed you alone in the kitchen, he figured it was as good a time as ever to try and bandage the bridge. Mikasa only asked him to try, so the outcome didn’t matter much to him. Whatever way you reacted, good or bad or ugly, at the very least, it would be more entertaining than this movie.

“Hey.”

Your eyes followed the voice until you found Eren stopped in the doorway. You felt your brows furrow, your tone cautious and curt when you replied, “Hi.”

He took it as an opening to join you in the kitchen, but you were sure you didn’t mean it as an invitation.

You bristled. “What do you want?”

He pulled a face but was otherwise unbothered. “What? I can’t say hello?”

“No, you can’t.”

Eren rolled his eyes. “Fine. What about a peace offering?”

You surveyed him, suspicious. Whatever he was offering, you didn’t trust it.

“I don’t need your olive branch,” you snubbed.

“Who said anything about olives?”

It sounded as if he really meant it, which only furthered your point.

You sidestepped him to leave.

Eren stopped himself short of catching you by the wrist. That wouldn’t help anything. But he did call for you in a sort of whisper-shout, just loud enough to grab your attention. He sucked in a sharp breath and pulled himself together, for Mikasa.

“We got off on the wrong foot. I’m trying to fix that,” he told you. He reached into his pocket and showed you his palm. In it, a decent enough joint. “Okay?”

Right then, you would have done just about anything to relax—almost anything. The solution to your frustration was right in front of you. The only problem was that he was also the source of it.

“I don’t know,” you hesitated. “Jean seemed pretty adamant about the no smoking rule.”

That wasn’t a lie. It was one of the very few rules he had mentioned upon arrival.

“Oh, fuck Jean. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” Eren ticked his head toward the stairs. “We’ll head up to the attic. I’ll even open a window if you’re that worried.”

You could get snippy with him over the attitude, but you bit your tongue. He was being sensible for once, so you ought to do the same—at least until he gave you a reason to snap that figurative olive branch in half.

“Okay,” you sighed. “Lead the way.”

On the way upstairs, you checked on your friends only to find them exactly where you had left them. It was your second house tour that day as Eren took you further than Jean did, to the very end of the hallway.

What you would expect to be a linen closet, Eren opened to reveal another set of stairs. You trailed behind him, unwilling to be the first to blindly wander into a dark attic. But after Eren flicked on a lamp, you realized it was far from the forgotten crawl space you had imagined.

Jean's family must have recently refurbished the room. It looked half-baked, still in the works of becoming a completed guest room, but it hadn't lost its old-time feeling yet, painted sepia in the lamp's light. There was a bed, neatly made but sitting frameless on the carpet. The ceiling slanted to the left, and if you wanted to pick a book from the built-in shelves, you’d have to crouch.

Across from you, on the other side of the little room, Eren pushed open the window. The night greeted you with a gust of winter air. You hugged yourself in a weak attempt to stay warm, considering you were dressed for cozying up by a fireplace.

“How did you know this was up here?” you asked.

“I’ve been here a few times over the years.” Eren plopped onto the floor and retrieved the joint. He was looking down, not speaking to you directly as he answered. “Had plenty of time to do some exploring.”

The house creaked with the wind. The sound of groaning wood sounded angry from up here. You rooted your feet in place.

“I didn’t have a lighter, but I did find this.”

As he said it, Eren revealed a candle lighter, likely pocketed from another one of his ‘explorations.’ He waved it around, and the flexible end flopped from side to side. He cracked a small smile, and you did the same, and you didn’t know what to make of it.

You watched him place the joint between his lips. He held it there, trying to align the flame with its end. He overshot it at first, then had to squeeze an eye shut to focus his vision. You lightly snickered.

“Don’t laugh,” he said out of the corner of his mouth.

Once the joint caught, Eren took it with two fingers and set the lighter aside. He pulled a long drag and held it in even longer. He looked at you again, waiting on you, whether you were just going to stand there and watch or not.

You sat near the window, cross-legged and opposite him. He handed you the joint on his exhale, aimed only slightly toward the sliver of open window.

You took a hit, and it burned a little. You stifled your cough as you leaned to blow the smoke outside.

The snow was shimmery in the moonlight, still as fresh as it was when you first arrived, blanketing the ground and weighing down the wobbly tree branches.

You finally coughed then, interrupting the thought. You hid your face in your elbow as you passed the joint back to Eren. He plucked it from your hand, not bothering to comment on your cough or the tears welling in your eyes.

After another hit or two, you began to blink slower. You noticed a heaviness in your eyelids, like you were suddenly made aware of their existence. You let your high settle in, propping yourself up on your palms and relaxing back. You admired the painterly night again, the snow even brighter than it was minutes ago.

Lost in his own high, Eren’s defenses were down. It took him by surprise when he looked at you and felt… something.

What happened earlier threw off the whole dynamic between you, at least when it came to his side of things. Truthfully, he had no idea what to think anymore.

Honest to god, you really pissed him off sometimes. And yeah, you being Mikasa’s best friend made his life exponentially harder. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t think about you, that he couldn’t look at you.

Eren’s eyes wandered absentmindedly. You were still agaze at the window, unaware that he stupidly couldn’t stop staring at your chest. Your tank top was distracting, your nipples pert from the cold and consuming what remained of his dwindling attention span. Whether it was right of him or not, he found thinking about earlier, trying to piece together his fuzzy memory of what you looked like beneath the thin fabric.

Consider it a temporary lapse in judgment, but maybe what pissed Eren off the most about you was that he wanted to sleep with you—after your uptight, bratty personality, of course. But that would be easy enough to fuck out of you, if you let him.

Hey, everyone wanted the two of you to get along, right? This would be more than doing what was asked of him, though he wasn’t sure he’d play nice.

Eren came to when the roach burned his fingers. He tossed it out the window with a hiss.

You noticed his proximity then. It wasn’t intimate; it was more innocent than that. The kind of closeness shared between friends, despite that you were anything but.

You looked down at his hand resting beside yours and wondered, if you were to touch him, how would his hand feel right then? Placed atop his, would it warm you from the creeping night breeze?

Or perhaps the better question was, why did you want to know—want to touch?

Heat radiated from the nape of your neck, and it unnerved you.

It was as if all the edges about you, your prickliness around Eren, had been buffed smooth. When you would normally recoil, you only sat still as he tilted into you. You were stuck in a daze, and in that daze, you could only focus on his eyes, lidded and a little glassy but pretty. Had they always looked like that—that pretty?

“You’ve been on my mind a lot lately,” he told you, but it wasn’t a confession. He said it unabashedly, looking you straight in the face. “For obvious reasons.”

You almost fell for it. Maybe it was the weed, or maybe it was your and Eren’s turbulent history, but you couldn’t help but laugh. You did your best to keep it short, teasing, “What? I didn’t get you all hot and bothered, did I?”

You waited for him to laugh, for him to admit he was fucking with you, but his expression was steadfast. His eyes didn’t waver from yours except to look at your lips.

“Something like that.”

If you thought your heart was thumping hard before, you were now convinced you might throw it up. You wanted to blame it on frustration, considering he was still thinking about that, but you weren’t sure the feeling was there anymore.

Eren closed in on you like he wanted to whisper a secret. He stalled momentarily, giving you the chance to shove him away. You didn’t.

“I can’t stop thinking about you.”

You felt his words vibrate against your ear.

“How pretty you looked.” His head dipped slightly, lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your neck as he murmured, “How soft you must feel.” He pressed a kiss there, below your ear, but you felt it tingle in your toes. “How good you must taste.”

Your head, once buzzing and light, went heavy. Eren’s hand curved around the back of your neck, allowing him to do exactly what he said he wanted: to taste you. With wetted lips and softly grazing teeth, he savored every exposed inch of your throat.

You mustered what resolve you had left and cleared your throat. “I thought you said I pissed you off.”

You surprised yourself with how poised you sounded, but Eren kept it together just as well.

“You do,” Eren said plainly, even as he continued to feast on your neck, and you continued to let him. “But you also happen to turn me on just as much.”

He punctuated the sentence with a lick of his tongue, trailing up to the hollow behind your ear before he nibbled at the lobe. A shiver ran through your spine, and his hands traced along its path. His fingers tickled at the bare skin of your lower back but didn’t dare any further. He idly kissed at your neck, patiently waiting to see what you had to say next—if you could still speak, that is.

You felt his lips peck your jaw, then the side of your face, but never your lips; he only ghosted over them. As you moved in to meet him, he pulled back with this smirk like you had fallen right into his trap.

“You have to tell me,” he said through that same grin.

Your eyebrows pinched together. “Tell you what?”

He sat back even further. “If you want me to kiss you.”

You tipped your head in that ‘you can’t be serious’ sort of way, pointedly glaring at him.

“It’s not my fault you’re giving me mixed signals,” he said airily. “An hour ago, you would have said you hated my guts.”

“Still do,” you muttered.

“Doesn’t seem like it.”

You couldn’t put your finger on him. Was he only confident because he knew you’d never say the words? If you were to ask him to kiss you, would it shock him enough that his tough-guy act would finally crumble? If you were to admit you wanted this, would he admit he wanted it just as badly?

No, you’d bet he wanted this even more. After all, he was the one to initiate this.

A frisson skipped through you. You pushed yourself onto all fours, leaning into him with the heels of your hands digging into the carpet. You licked your lips in anticipation, telling him, “Kiss me.”

Then, for the first time possibly ever, Eren listened to you.

You couldn’t say why you did it, only that you wanted to. You wanted to know how his lips felt when they weren’t against your neck but slotted between your own. You discovered a surprising softness as he kissed you back, so unlike his usual abrasive self.

The feeling whirring in your chest wasn’t the one you expected. You thought there would be resentment, that you might finally come to your senses. And if that didn’t happen, then the least you expected was confusion; that would make sense. But you only felt satisfaction. Satisfaction, but only filled ninety-nine percent to the brim. That last one percent was nagging at you. It kept you chasing.

At some point—you didn’t know how much time had passed—you realized you had forgotten to breathe. Eren caught your chin when you pulled away. Shallow breaths trembled on your lips. Your eyes flitted across his face as you waited for reality to sink in, but it never did.

“Kiss me again,” you mumbled.

When he did, the kiss changed, and neither of you had the wherewithal to consider the consequences of it.

Restraint slipped through your fingers, but there was no use in trying to collect it. You could taste the need on each other's lips, just as potent as the smoke on your tongues as you moved yours against his.

Eren placed a hand at your waist and pulled you in. He was forceful enough that you had no choice but to collapse onto him. Neither of you minded the thud.

You had him pinned between your legs, your hands on either side of his face as you continued making out, your lips never disconnecting once.

Your fingers slid higher until they were beneath his head and tangled in his hair. He had you by your hips, tugging you down until you were fully against him. You felt him, how hard he was, as he rolled you over him. Through layers of clothing, you let him drag you over his length. Your panties pressed against your cunt, reminding you just how wet you were for him.

When Eren let go of you, you continued grinding down onto him all on your own. You were aching, throbbing, and trying to choke back whimpers as your kissing turned sloppy.

He practically had to swallow a whine of his own when his hands pushed between you to latch onto your breasts. He yanked down the hem of your top, revealing your bare tits to him for the second time that day.

Remember, you were still high; every touch, every sensation, had been dialed up to a ten. The air in the tiny attic grew chillier by the minute. You shivered hard when Eren groped at your breasts, tossed your head back with a gasp when he thumbed over your sensitive nipples.

He was a bit dumb to anything but the pair of tits, your lovely tits, shoved in his face. He brought his mouth to your chest, just his lips at first, kissing wherever he could before closing them around your nipple.

His mouth was hot against your skin, his tongue flicking and circling your nipple before sucking lightly. Harder once you bore your cunt down on him harder, clearly getting off on the feeling.

Still unsatisfied, you straightened out, pawing at your top until you could throw it over your head. The room felt even colder without your shirt, without the heat of his mouth. Even in that brief second, you missed it.

Eren missed it, too, boyishly wanting to return to playing with your tits, freed and there for him to openly admire. It was pathetic, how maddeningly he wanted you, even as you quite literally looked down on him, perched with your hands flattened against his chest. He felt surrendered to you.

You tilted your head and asked, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

You sounded a bit breathless, not nearly as pointed as you intended.

His hand slid up the curve of your side, his gaze rising from your chest to meet your eye.

“You look good,” he said bluntly. “You’re really turning me on right now.”

Instantly, you felt your blood run hot, your cheeks all feverish.

“Oh, whatever,” you dismissed with a click of your tongue.

“You asked.”

You jokingly slid your hand to the base of his neck like you wanted to keep him quiet. Instantly, he stiffened beneath you, not his cock but his entire body—though you did feel that twitch, too.

You moved your hand higher and grinned when you felt his Adam’s apple roll beneath your grasp. It was a moment you could only describe as a short-circuit—not just for Eren but for you. Your mind blanked to anything but him, exactly like this. How good he looked beneath you.

You bent to kiss him. His mouth opened for you to lick into, groaning when you started to work your hips again.

The feeling of your clothed cunt rubbing against him, your hold on his throat tightening as your weight shifted forward, had his cock straining in his sweatpants, almost painfully so. He tried to hold back, hands clutching your thighs like he could ground himself, but he shamefully couldn’t stop himself from rutting up into you.

You drew back, separating an inch, but your hips didn’t relent. You washed his jaw slack at the push and pull of pressure over his cock. You scanned over his face, from his low-lidded eyes to his lips, slightly parted and glistening from your kiss.

Saliva pooled behind your front teeth. You couldn’t say why you did it—or what compelled Eren to go along with it—but you grabbed his face and lined your mouth with his. His lips parted further like he knew what was coming. The very corners of them pinched into a grin, slight but undoubtedly wicked.

A long string connected your lips to his tongue. Before it could snap, you kissed it into his mouth, and he welcomed it with a perverse groan.

“Bed,” he muttered between swapped kisses.

It wasn’t a question, but you nodded in agreement anyway.

Eren sat upright and took you with him. He slid his hands beneath you, carrying you to the bed—if ‘carrying’ was the right word for it. He trudged to the bed, knee-walking with you clumsily wrapped around him.

He dropped you first, then fell at your side. The old mattress springs squeaked under your desperate movements.

Eren kissed you deeply, his tongue slipping into your mouth the same way his hand slipped down the front of your pajama pants. Your legs spread on instinct, making room for his hand to close over you. Even with your underwear in the way, his touch made your stomach flutter.

Your panties quickly became an annoying obstacle. The soaked fabric slid around with little friction as he rubbed your pussy, only making it harder for him to touch you properly. He pushed them aside and let his middle finger run along your slit, then promptly pumped it inside you.

Your moan was smothered by your lips smushed to his. You struggled to kiss him back, mouth stuttering as he added a second finger inside you. Your walls pulsed around the intrusion, having little time to adjust to his thick fingers stretching you. But as he curled his fingers toward your navel, rubbing the pads of them against that erogenous spot, your muscles slacked. Your entire body gave into him.

With his fingers rightly slick, Eren returned to circling your clit. He teased you, touching you only enough to keep you bleary, riding out your pleasure but never reaching the destination.

You bunched his shirt in your fist, tugging and vaguely trying to get it off him.

“Take it off,” you demanded in a wet mumble against his mouth.

Again, Eren did as he was told. You used the opportunity to wiggle out of your sweatpants.

You trailed a hand down his stomach, felt the ungiving muscles, and followed the soft hair leading below his waistband. His cock throbbed in your hand as you started stroking him slowly, thumbing over the tip and spreading his precome down his shaft.

Eren shimmied your panties halfway down your thighs and shoved his hand back between your legs. His pumping fingers were attuned to your hand movements, fucking you at the pace he fucked your fist. His thumb pressed down on your clit, sparking a fire that spread through your lower half.

You no longer minded the open window or its breeze; the attic had grown heady, the air between you thickening with every humid breath you exchanged. You nearly couldn’t breathe right then, but there was only one thing you could think about.

More. You needed more.

You weren’t in the mood for needless foreplay; you wanted to have him inside you.

You grabbed his wrist.

“Fuck,” you panted. “Just fuck me already.”

A biting smile crossed Eren’s face.

“So demanding,” he tutted, his fingers still lazily playing with your pussy. “Can you at least say ‘please?’”

You reached for your underwear hanging at your knees and bared yourself entirely. Despite his smug words, he followed suit and started removing his sweatpants.

You laid back and retorted, “I’d choke you right now, but I think you might like that.”

You looked comfortable, but Eren didn’t hesitate to flip you onto your stomach. He splayed a hand in the middle of your back, shoving you into the pillows.

He kicked off his sweatpants and boxers at once, sitting back on his calves and settling between your legs.

“You’re probably right,” he said casually.

Eren raised you by your hips. He licked his fingers—tasted you on them—and smoothed them over your cunt, already messy with your arousal. You held your breath in anticipation, quivering when you felt the head of his cock meet your entrance. But it only lasted a second before he pushed inside you to the hilt, even tugging back on your hips to ensure it. You could practically feel him in your stomach.

You whined loudly. Eren predicted as much, considering you were always whiny. The pillow did its job and muffled you well enough.

But what he didn’t predict was how fucking good you would feel around his cock.

“God damn,” he rasped on a drawn-out grunt. His eyes screwed shut, a shudder wracked through him, and he was very thankful you couldn’t see him right then.

Eren never imagined this happening, let alone imagined how you might feel—until today. Even then, he never dreamed of how much he’d actually enjoy it.

He smoothed his hands up and down your sides, taking a full second to gather some semblance of composure. Your skin was balmy, yet his touch scattered goosebumps along the backs of your arms.

He swallowed thick as he started to move, slowly dragging his cock in and out, testing you, before setting a proper pace, as he’d call it.

You wrung the sheets in your hands, lifting your head to find your breath as Eren drove into you from behind. Every thrust of his was punctuated by your little pants of ‘yes, yes, yes,’ as he kept you pinned to the bed with bruising strength.

You were rapt on the feeling, how full you were, as your cunt flexed, desperately trying to accommodate him. It was a lot, you could only bite your knuckle to quiet your cries, but you’d be damned to say you didn’t just love it.

Grunts, raw and tight in his throat, slipped past his teeth as he watched you twitch around his cock. He was surprised by you, listening to your mewls grow more incoherent, more guttural, the harder he fucked you. How your pussy gripped him perfectly, like you were sucking him in for more after he had bullied his way inside you.

Eren was right. Maybe all you needed was a good, hard fuck.

“You like that, huh?” he asked, holding you down still, having his way with you.

You ignored him and focused on your imminent orgasm.

You felt his hand curve around your face, his fingers pushing past your lips. You tried to close your mouth around them, but he hooked your cheek.

“I can’t hear you.”

He spoke it like an order, and you were feeling defiant.

You reached for his hand, pulling his fingers from your mouth with a wet pop. You angled your neck to try and get a look at him.

“That all you got?” In spite of the gasps between your words, you smiled provokingly. “Fuck me like you mean it.”

You couldn’t resist goading him, that would go against your nature. But you were quickly made aware of what you signed up for once Eren threw you onto your back, staring down at you with darkened eyes. You had successfully gotten under his skin, feverish and slightly sheened with sweat because he had been fucking you like he meant it.

You were talking a big game for someone with dried tears streaking her cheeks—with fresh ones spilling as he rammed back inside you. But if you wanted him to ruin you, then that was what you were going to get. He just wanted to see the fucked-out face you’d make when he had you coming on his cock.

Eren took hold of your jaw, tilting it so he could lick the pretty tear on your cheekbone. He could already see every spot he bit and sucked along your neck and chest, every scathing mark blooming beneath your skin that you’d have to explain away tomorrow.

“Wrap your legs around me,” he told you.

Your legs felt comparable to gelatin, but you managed the feat anyway. You locked your ankles against the small of his back, clinging to him, racking your nails down the taut muscles of his back as he pounded into you. His pelvis collided again and again against your swollen cunt, the brutal sound filling the attic.

“Fuck, just like that.” Your eyes fluttered shut. “Don’t stop.”

The iron-hot coil in your stomach had been winding tighter and tighter since you first kissed Eren. Now, it was straining, begging to snap. You thoughtlessly snaked a hand between your legs, needily rubbing your clit

“C’mon,” he urged you, even pleading your name. “Come on me. Please.”

The sudden need in Eren’s voice had you taken aback, tearing you from your ledge until your orgasm harshly fell over you.

Your entire body trembled. You could only whisper a tiny, “Coming,” as the rest of the words hitched in your throat.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Eren said through ragged breaths, fucking you through it. “There you go, come all over my cock.”

Your legs were shaking so badly they had dropped from his waist. The aftershocks of your orgasm rippled through you; Eren could feel every one of them.

“Shit, I’m gonna—” His unrelenting pace began to dissolve. “Can I—fuck, where should I—”

“Anywhere,” you interrupted. You were too far gone to care.

Your body went limp and lazy as Eren pulled out of you. He straightened out and sat forward on his knees. His cock dripped with your come; you could hear the slick sound as he jerked himself off above you.

His pants turned into short huffs through his nose. He squeezed the sensitive tip of his cock, cursing to himself as he let his head fall back. With a final clench of his sore abdominals, he came, hard.

If you were to ask, Eren would tell you he tried to come on your tits, but really, he wanted to come on your face—you know, create a snapshot memory for the inevitable next time you pissed him off. He managed to do a little bit of both.

You winced when you felt the warmth of it hit your chin, your nose, and even as high as your cheek, with the last spurts painting your chest.

Spent, Eren leaned forward, catching himself with a hand planted near your head. You watched his heaving chest, staying so very still as you grumbled, “Really?”

“You said anywhere,” he said through heavy breaths. Once they settled, he reached for a blanket and started wiping your face.

You swatted him away, bemoaning, “You can’t just use one of their blankets, Eren!”

There you were again, already yapping at him. At least he didn't have to worry about things being weird between you.

“What do you want me to use? Your shirt?” He ignored your protests and began cleaning you again. “I’m sure they have a laundry machine here. I’ll worry about it tomorrow.”

Eren glanced you over, then wiped another spot near your collarbone. He inspected his work again, looking down at you with eyes that weren’t so dark anymore. Once he deemed you as clean as you were going to get, he petted over your hair once.

There was a pause as you blinked up at him. “We’re not going to bring this up again, right?”

“Nope,” Eren said as he started get up. “Just get dressed.”

You didn’t move, following him with just your eyes as he started to step into his boxers. You bit your lip in thought, then threw caution to the wind as you blurted out, “But if we were to do this again—just this week, I mean—”

He peered at you from over his shoulder. “Then you know where the attic is now.”

You shared a long look, nodded, then prepared to head to your separate rooms for the night to pretend you had long fallen asleep.

as always, thank you for reading ♡

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren smut #aot x reader

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alpaca-clouds · 7 months

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Neurodiversity & Rejection Sensitivity Disphoria

Starting with this graphic by @adhd-alien

Okay, let me talk about Rejection Sensitive Disphoria, which is something ADHD folks - but also autistic folks - struggle with a lot. And technically speaking... it is a trauma response. This is nothing that just happens to a neurodiverse brain as is, but it is an effect of trauma.

A lot of neurodiverse people - especially ADHD people - encounter a lot of rejection during their life. They get criticized for being inattentive, for being "lazy", for being "weird", for being too attached, and too detatched. Basically, we cannot do anything right. We often struggle to maintain friendship, especially with neurotypical people, who find our behavior grading.

There is always the saying among neurodiverse people: "We have best friends, but we are never anyone's best friend", because of this and because we often only have the emotional energy to maintain a few friendships at once.

There has been a study done a while ago and it found, that a typical child with ADHD would experience about 50 small rejections within each and every day. 50! 50 times that someone told them "You did this wrong" or "You are wrong". And in a lot of times the people giving these rejections do not think about it as much. But for the kid, it leaves an impression. Because they learn, they cannot do anything right.

Because of this, each rejection feels even more horrible to them. Even as an adult. Something that is not meant as a big slant against them, turns into it in their mind. Like, even a small criticism. Take one like this: "Tone it down." Because we often have problems regulating our voice. And just this small thing feels... horrible.

And, yeah... We struggle with this. It is a trauma response. Nothing else.

But if we bring it up to someone - for example, someone who keeps bringing out those small rejections - we are often depicted by them as self-centered and the like.

Ever since I learned about RSD, I have an easier time dealing with it. Because I can now gage that moment, where it kicks in and go in, telling my brain: "Hey, stop this crap, that is not what they meant and you know it". But... I also would fucking appreciate if neurotypical people had a bit more chill with us.

#adhd #autism #rejection sensitive dysphoria #disability #disability rights #neurodiversity

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samkerrworshipper · 5 months

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exile | alexia putellas x reader

songfic based off of the song exile by taylor swift

warnings: pure angst, hurt/no comfort, cheating (sort of), divorce

I can see you standing, honey

With his arms around your body

Laughin’, but the jokes not funny at all

Tonight isn’t much different from your normal Sunday night.

Barca had beaten Atletico convincingly early in the day, unsurprisingly.

Locker room celebrations had very quickly been moved to a popular Barcelona club, a place that a lot of your teammates were thriving in.

There was dancing, drinking, partying.

It was the Barca way, Sunday nights were a good time.

You were seated in a corner of the club, surrounded by the likes of Keira and Aitana, your more introverted group watching your friends on the dance floor.

Your eyes didn’t budge from your girlfriend, who was on the dance floor.

It wasn’t abnormal, Alexia was one of the first people to hit the floor after a good win, you were happy with that.

The part you were less happy with was who Alexia was choosing to dance with, and how she was choosing to dance with said person.

Alexia was tipsy, which was clear in her mannerisms and the constant laughter falling from her plump and beautifully red lips which were softly singing along to the song that was thrumming against the floor of the club.

She was in the middle of the floor, surrounded by other teammates, grinding up against Jenni to the beat of the music.

Their bodies were practically intertwined, Jenni’s arms tangled around Alexia’s waist whereas Alexia’s arms were reached behind her back, resting on the small of Jenni’s back.

It was almost pornographic the way they moved up and down against each other, more like an organised rhythm that was well practised in contrast to an alcohol influenced jig.

You don’t want to feel jealous, but you can’t help it when Alexia is grinding up and down on her ex girlfriend in ways that you wished she would to you.

No, the grinding, the public displays of attention, any evidence of love between the two of you, that had faded long ago.

I think I’ve seen this film before

And i didn’t like the ending

You’re not my homeland anymore

So what am I defending now?

You’d love to be able to say that this isn’t a common occurrence, but it would just be a lie. Alexia is shamelessly attractive and dances like a stripper in all of the best ways.

You have appreciation for that, but a part of you always feels betrayed when Alexia so openly flaunts herself on somebody else, especially her ex, but it’s also something you’ve become accustomed to, whether you want to admit it or not, Alexia was never yours to keep, maybe for a short amount of time, but never long enough for her to take a permanent place in your life.

You don’t try and make excuses for her inattention to you anymore, not like when at the end of your honeymoon phase when Alexia started to drift.

It just hurt more, making up excuses when they were all untrue, you couldn’t defend Alexia’s actions, not to yourself, not to anybody on the team, not to the general public.

You were my town,

Now I’m in exile seein’ you out

I think I’ve seen this film before

For whatever reason it doesn’t bother you as much anymore.

You’ve watched Alexia walk out the door hundreds of times, and every single time she’s come back.

It’s some kind of weird toxic attachment where neither of you really love each other anymore but for whatever reason Alexia has chosen you to become attached to and you can’t do anything but sit by and watch as she detaches herself everyday only for her to reattach herself when she falls into your arms every night.

Once upon a time, Alexia was your everything, the reason your heart kept pumping, the solution to every single one of your problems.

I can see you starin’, honey

Like he’s just your understudy

Like you'd get your knuckles bloody for me

The worst of it all, Alexia looks, Alexia dances, Alexia smiles that same way she used to with you. You wonder if she’d smiled at Jenni the same way when they’d been together, if she’d loved her so viciously before becoming bored with her.

Alexia dances with Jenni like they’re the only two people in the room, and you’re frightfully aware that if anybody were to even attempt to get between them Alexia would put up a fight.

Second third and hundredth chances

Battling on breakin’ branches

Those eyes add insult to injury

It’s not like the whole situation is new to you either.

There has been plenty of women before Jenni, and there will be plenty afterwards.

You’ve stopped trying to count the amount of women that Alexia has toyed around with whilst being in a relationship with you.

She doesn’t cheat, she doesn’t break that barrier, she dances, she smiles, she laughs, she gives away every part of herself that matters the very most to you.

Sex and libido be damned, you’d spend every single day of your life in pain if it meant you got to experience Alexia smiling at you once again, laughing or craking jokes in front of you.

Those moments, those chances, are long gone.

Her eyes, the beautiful greenish hazel orbs no longer bother themselves with you, it’s almost insulting how she so easily can smile at Jenni when she can never manage to even give you a little quirk of her lips here and there.

I think i’ve seen this film before

And i didn’t like the ending

I’m not your problem anymore

So who am I offending now?

You don’t even flinch when the dancing turns into an extremely intimately looking hug, the two women continuing to grind up and down on each other as they stare at each other with a kind of earnestness and conviction that would make any girls’ heart flutter.

Alexia long ago learnt that you would never dare to object to her rather unprofessional moments with her teammates, you didn’t have the heart to.

She didn’t care if she hrut you, didn’t care if it killed every single organ and burst every single blood vessel in your body if it meant she was having a good time.

You were my crown

Now i’m in exile, seein’ you out

I think I’ve seen this film before

So I’m leavin’ out the side door

Ever since your Alexia, your heart, your soul, your home, became La Reina, she hasn’t been the same.

She had her crown, she had her throne, she had the world beneath her feet.

You would never be good enough for her, how could anyone be?

It’s fine, you're used to it, you're used to the sideways glances at other women, your okay with Alexia partying with other women. What you aren’t used to, or okay with is Alexia making out with her ex girlfriend, right in front of you, in the middle of a club, with all of your teammates surrounding.

Suddenly, before you can think or breathe or do anything your standing up, before Keira can try to stop you and bolt from the club, finding the nearest door and pushing it open.

The cold rush of the Barcelona air in the empty alleyway is the only thing that forces you to take a breath, the brittle cold air forcing it’s way into your lungs and burning against your wet and tearful eyes.

So step right out, there is no amount

Of crying i can do for you

All this time

We always walked a very thin line

You don’t want to cry, not when subconsciously you are crying over a woman that hasn’t been remotely yours in a long time.

You are though, big fat tears are rolling down your face unceremoniously as you try to regain your composure.

You don’t ask much of Alexia, you don’t expect much when it comes to receiving affection from her or receiving anything much from her.

You do expect one thing, if she’s going to be in a relationship with you, then she is going to stay loyal, there is no room for infidelity in your life.

You can’t handle that, you can’t handle spending every minute of every day that you are apart from Alexia wondering what she’s getting up to behind closed doors. You trusted Alexia with one thing, and she managed to betray that one piece of trust you harboured for her.

You know that Alexia has always teetered on the line of things, often blurring the lines of infidelity, but she’s never crossed it, she’s never kissed another girl, she’s never stepped out on you.

So this, it feels like a train has hit you straight in the chest.

You didn’t even hear me out (you didn’t even hear me out)

You never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs)

You're not left out in the cold by yourself for long, the sound of the club side door opening, pulling you from your own mind.

Alexia is standing in front of you, hands fidgeting in front of her stomach as she looks at you, her front teeth biting down on her front lip as she tries to assess the damage.

“Bebita-I.”

You cut her off with your teary eyes and croaky voice.

“Ale I don’t want to hear it, I don’t want to know.”

The Alexia you’ve grown used to would walk away, leave you in the dust and go back to whatever fun she’s having, but she doesn’t.

“You won’t even hear me out?”

You look up at her, the tears instantly drying and your look of pure agony transitioning into something of anger.

“I won’t hear you out? Alexia you just fucking cheated on me, no warning, no signs, just kissed your ex girlfriend in front of me, I don’t want to know why, I don’t care, clearly you didn’t care when you were making out with another woman in front of me.”

Alexia bites down further on her lip, teetering on the edge of drawing blood as she observes you.

“It’s not like that.”

All this time

I never learned to read your mind (you never learned to read my mind)

I couldn’t turn things around (you never turned things around)

‘Cause you never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs)

So many signs, so many signs

You didn’t even see the signs

You’ve known Alexia for ten years, you’ve been dating her for seven, married for four.

Those years don’t matter to her, they hardly matter to you anymore, but they mean something, you’ve devoted ten years of your life to a woman and sure, she’s not perfect, she’s everything but, it’s ten years of history though.

“It’s not like what? Alexia I can’t read your fucking mind, I can’t decipher everything you are thinking, so please, enlighten me, how the fuck is this not like that?”

Alexia, in all her years, has never seen you like this, you’ve never once raised your voice at her out of anger, she figures it’s a long time coming but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

“Can we just forget about it?”

That hurts you even more, unless Alexia has a magical brain wiping machine, you know that neither of you will ever be able to forget this, your teammates won’t forget it, it’s not something forgettable.

“Of course, let’s just forget about it, god forbid La Reina ever had to put in the work to turn her shit around and get her life together and admit she fucked up, no we just have to forget about all of this. Let’s just go home, sí? We can go hop into bed together and I’ll just pretend that the woman sleeping next to me doesn’t have her ex girlfriends scent and kisses all over her.”

Your tone is cut throat, as harsh as a sharp knife.

“Nena, please.”

Alexia looks genuinely upset, and your kind of glad, she deserves to feel a fraction of what you are feeling, a slither of the turmoil and insurmountable pain that you’ve experienced in the last five minutes.

“Did I miss the signs? Was I so blind to realise that you love Jenni more than me? You sure kiss her like you love her more than me. God I don’t even remember the last time you kissed me like that. Our honeymoon? The first Ballon D’or? It’s been years Alexia, years of me sitting around waiting patiently for you to turn this all around, to realise that I love you more than anything else in the world. It’s fine, you want out, you can have out, I’ll get my lawyer to draw up divorce papers, I’ll move out, I’ll move clubs.”

Alexia’s face drops, that;s the last thing she wants, the very bottom of her list.

“Bebé, no, we can work this out, I’ll go to couples therapy, we can make this better, we can turn this around.”

You shook your head, a new wave of tears dripping down your face and onto your favourite night out top as you struggle to keep your composure.

“Alexia, I won’t be married to somebody who’s cheated on me, you broke our vows, sacred vows that we made in front of god. Marriage to me is a commitment, it’s a promise, you swore to me, for better or for worse, until parted by death. One of us might not have died, but a part of our relationship did when you kissed Jenni, I’m done, all the sleepless nights, the lack of love, the borderline cheating, you’ve toed the line but this time you’ve obliterated the line, so I’m done.”

You push past her, back into the club so you can collect your things.

You don’t even make it to the table before Keira has you in her arms, shielding you from the music and people.

“Need to leave, I need to go.”

Keira nods at you, Lucy has now joined the huddle around you, the two of them working together to keep you away from the eyes of any of your teammates or general bystanders in the club.

“We’ll get you home, let’s get you out of here, hmm? You can come back home with us, you're always welcome in our spare room.”

From back out in the alley, Alexia feels sick to her stomach, and there is not much more she can do than pick her phone out of her pocket and dial the only number she can think of.

“Mamí, I’ve ruined it all.”

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