#10 hours of sleep last night so I'm feeling good

[kikker-oma]

Just when I thought I was starting to get burnt out from 3 straight months of continuous drawing I GET A SECOND WIND😈😈😈

muahahahaha this fandom has such a chokehold on me, its unreal

[pardonmydelays]

so tired, so sleepy

[usodeshou]

Guess who's sick! 😬

[keikikait]

ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ (ʀᴀꜰᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇʀᴏɴ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

this is part two. for part one, click here!

pairing: rafe cameron x f!reader, (not au, both are early to mid 20's)

word count: 4.6k

summary: you wait up for rafe after he leaves you for sofia

warnings: ANGST/THEMES OF DEPRESSION. please only read if you're comfortable!, reader literally sits on her couch for 2 days, forced undressing (not sexually), no smut but they shower together, rafe is trying to be good i promise, i haven't finished s4 so if i get shit wrong about his house i'm sorry, not proofread

a note: ik i just posted part 1 yesterday but like. i had to keep cooking. let me know if you want a part three! also, i think this is my longest fic to date...

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

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You wait for him all day. Like the good girl he expects you to be.

You shower and pamper yourself, trying to take the edge off, but it’s all for naught. You were going to be an anxious, stressed mess until you heard those three knocks. You sit, fully dressed in a simple crop top and miniskirt, watching TV. You don’t dare move from this spot, just in case he decides to come home to you early.

The clock strikes one, and the waiting is too much for you. You're anxious, stressed, nervous; everything that you didn't want to be. The waiting feels like hours but also like seconds, the seconds ticking away painfully slow and too fast, the minutes and hours passing without your realization or intention.

You watch the TV with unseeing eyes, still sitting on the couch, fully dressed. And then it strikes two. And all you can do is wait some more. You don’t know how long you’ve been sitting there. You’ve already made it through a season of the show you were watching, mindlessly staring at the screen.

Sitting. 

Waiting.

The sun starts to set, orange and pink hues streaking across your living room. You don’t move from your spot, starting to grow even more anxious. The tag on your shirt is starting to irritate you, but you don’t dare to move. You didn’t want to miss him, didn’t want to miss the knocks from your bedroom. 

The sun completely sets, the only source of light coming from your TV. It’s just a few minutes after 6:00pm, but the room feels dark, so much darker than any other night before. Your phone vibrates, dancing across the coffee table, but it isn’t Rafe, so you don’t answer it, not wanting to miss the three knocks. Your patience grows thin, and each second feels like an eternity. Waiting is never a pleasant thing. Waiting for him is even worse.

6 PM turns into 9 PM, and suddenly it’s midnight. Rafe never came home.

You continue to stay up, pinching your arm occasionally to wake you back up. You didn’t want to miss him. You had a habit of being a heavy sleeper and sleeping in, and you knew that you would miss the knocks. 

You grab your phone, scrolling through Sofia’s Instagram with shaky hands. There was no point in checking Rafe’s, he barely posted. The little pink ring swims around Sofia’s profile picture, and you click on her story.

The first story is from 12 hours ago, showing a plate from a fancy brunch spot on the mainland. The date he ditched you to take her on. The next story is from 10 hours ago, a shot of both of their hands holding cups of ice cream on a pier somewhere. He was wearing the gold Ouroboros ring you bought him, and it makes your heart clench. The next story is from 7 hours ago, a selfie of her looking frustratingly gorgeous in Rafe’s bedroom, the covers pulled up over her bare chest.

Did they fuck? Even after everything that happened last night?

The last story is from 3 hours ago, a selfie of them together outside a sushi restaurant, her arm around his neck while he looks off into the distance, a cigarette in his mouth. He’s still wearing that stupid ring.

Did he forget about you?

It wouldn’t be the first time.

You hope, foolishly, that he would text you, tell you he’s running late and that he’ll be there soon. But he doesn’t. You don’t move to text him first, knowing he won’t respond anyway, especially if Sofia is next to him.

You set your phone down, feeling completely overwhelmed. The possibility of them sleeping together tonight makes you sick to your stomach, but you wouldn’t put it past Rafe to do something like that. Especially after what he said yesterday.

She’s my girlfriend.

And you were just his…what? His friend? His side chick? The other woman? A warm mouth and a tight hole that he sought out when he was done with Sofia’s shit?

You drop your phone onto the floor, grabbing the pillow from under your head and pressing your face into it, trying to silence your sobs. It takes everything in you not to scream into the pillow, your body shaking with the force of your sobs. How could you be such an idiot? He never fails to make you feel so naïve. You thought last night would change everything between the two of you, but it didn’t. 

All it did was remind you how worthless you were, that you were just his second best. Maybe the picture that you painted of him looks better in your mind.

You suddenly jump when your window slams shut. It blows open again before slamming once more, your curtains rippling with the wind. You get up, shuffling across the room. You shut the window, drawing the curtains closed, but not before looking out of them to see if Rafe’s car was parked outside. 

It wasn’t.

You lay back down, resting your head on your pillow, starting to stare at the screen again. You make it through a few more episodes of whatever the hell you put on before it suddenly shuts off. Even the show’s characters didn’t want to be with you. Your head is pounding, your throat is dry, and your eyes are red-rimmed and swollen from your tears. Your heart aches, and your lungs sting with every breath you take.

You don’t even move to turn the TV off or try to fix it. You just lay there, crying in the light of the TV static.

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The sun rises, and you don’t get up at first. 

You didn’t want to move, just in case he showed up, but part of you knew deep down that he wouldn’t be coming back anytime soon. You fix the TV before laying back down, staring mindlessly at the screen, trying to distract yourself. You reach down onto the floor, grabbing your phone. You check Sofia’s Instagram again. The little pink circle around her picture taunts you. You click on it anyway, wiping the tears out of your eyes.

Joining the remaining stories from yesterday is one new post. A selfie of her with a clay facemask on, one eye closed as she blocks the sunlight with her hand, lounging beside Rafe’s new pool. She’s wearing a necklace with a diamond ‘R’ charm on it, as if she’s personally rubbing it in your face.

You lock your phone, putting it down on the floor before sliding it away with a flick of your wrist. It doesn’t go far, hitting one of the legs of your coffee table. You change the show on your TV, picking some true-crime documentary before laying your head back down.

You watch the show with distant eyes, feeling completely numb. You don’t know why you keep checking her account, knowing it would just make you feel even worse. But you do it anyway, because maybe deep down you deserve it. You think about texting him, asking him if he’s coming over today. But you don’t dare. You don’t want to come off as a clingy whore. 

Your phone buzzes from the floor, vibrating the coffee table, startling you. You stay on the couch, reaching across the floor with one hand and grabbing your phone. You eagerly turn it over, expecting it to be from Rafe, maybe a long apology text, or even just a simple ‘On my way over.’ The phone doesn’t immediately light up. You hate that feature. You tap on the screen, your face immediately falling.

It’s just an email from your electric company about your mid-cycle usage report.

You let out a sharp scream, chucking your phone against the wall. It doesn’t shatter, but it bends around the sharp corner of the plaster.

The scream of frustration is cathartic, but it doesn’t last long. It’s quickly replaced by the feeling of loneliness that has become so common these past few days. But right now, it seems like a million times more unbearable. You start to cry again, burying your face back into your pillow.

The sun sets, and then it gets dark. You don’t move.

You can’t move. What if he comes back? What if this is the time he knocks? You can’t miss them. You can’t miss him. You curl yourself into a pathetic heap on the couch, hoping that he’ll come back. He will. He has to. He has to know how miserable you are. He has to realize how badly he’s hurting you and actually care about it this time. 

But each hour feels even more hopeless than the last. You stay up, wide awake, all night thinking about him. You don’t hear a single knock. You don’t see any headlights or cars pulling up into your driveway. There’s nothing but crickets in the distance and the sound of your heartbeat in your ears.

You barely pay attention to the show in front of you, staring with unfocused eyes at the screen. The sun starts to rise, casting a soft pink hue onto your living room. You’ve been sitting on your couch for two days, waiting for a man who probably doesn’t want you. Two days. Two days of sitting here, hoping, praying that he would come back. Two days of sitting here like a fool, waiting for a man who’s with someone else.

Yet you can’t seem to find the motivation to get up. You can’t. Just in case, this time, he shows up.

Your head throbs, your heartbeat pounding in your ears. You shut your eyes, burying your face in your pillow. You wish you were laying your head on his chest instead. Your thoughts are too loud, too consuming, too overwhelming. It’s hard to think clearly, to sort things out in your head. You’re so exhausted, mentally and physically, that you start to doze off.

You fall asleep, face buried in your mascara stained pillow.

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Your eyes suddenly shoot open when you feel your shoulder being shaken and a hand on your face.

“Hey, sweetheart. Wake up, I’m here.” Rafe’s voice is like music to your ears. Soft, low, deep. You feel his large hand against your cheek, his thumb gently stroking your skin as he tries to gently coax you awake. He’s here. After two long days of no food, no shower, no company except your own miserable thoughts, he’s here.

“Rafe?” You ask, head and body aching from two days of laying completely still on your uncomfortable Ikea couch.

“Yeah, baby. I’m here.” Rafe says, his voice soft and gentle. His fingers trail along your cheek, his hand so big against your face. He tries to hide it, but you can see the slight grimace on his face as he takes you in. “Are you okay? I tried calling you this morning, but you didn’t answer.”

You glance around, trying to take in your surroundings. You finally fell asleep, and judging by the slowly setting sun, you slept for a while. “My phone, I um…” You gesture to the smashed phone laying across the room.

Rafe sighs, his brow furrowing as he glances over to your smashed phone. “I’ll buy you a new one.” He says, looking back at you. His expression falls, and his eyes narrow. “How long have you been sitting here?”

“Two days.” You say, sitting up. You’re still in the same crop top and miniskirt, your hair starting to feel greasy and itchy.

“Jesus, baby.” Rafe exhales, shaking his head. “Have you eaten anything?” He asks, brushing your messy hair out of your face gently.

“I was waiting for you.” You say, completely ignoring his question. “You said you would come back. I was waiting for you.” You look up at him, feeling completely and utterly pathetic.

His eyes soften, his hand moving to cup your face in his palm. “I know. And I came back, like I promised.” He says soothingly, his thumb stroking your cheek gently. “Baby, you look terrible.”

“No, you promised me two days ago that you would come back.” You say, your voice growing thick as you start to cry again. “You said after your brunch date with Sofia that you would come back.”

Rafe opens his mouth to speak, only to close it again. He doesn’t say anything for a while, as if trying to come up with something to say. His expression shifts slightly, from sympathetic to something else, something almost akin to guilt. He sighs, finally speaking, “I’m sorry. I know. I didn’t realize how late it was until it was too late to swing by here.”

“So you left me hanging for an extra day?” You ask, reaching up to wipe away a stray tear.

“I’m sorry, alright?” He says, still gentle, but a hint of irritation is there. “I know I said I’d-… I said I’d come back, but I lost track of time, baby. I had to hang out with her for a while to keep up appearances.”

“Oh, fuck you and your appearances!” You say, standing up. You lose balance, reaching down with one hand to balance yourself on the arm of the couch. “Just admit that you didn’t want to see me.”

Rafe reaches out to steady you on your feet, frowning. “That’s not-… I did want to see you.” He says, his voice growing sterner, more irritated. “But I had other obligations. I had to keep up appearances. I told you that.”

“Don’t expect me to believe that bullshit, Rafe.” You say. You try to pull away from him, but he tightens his grip on your arm. “You can just dump me, you know.”

“Yeah? So can you.” He snaps back, his grip on your arm tightening even more.

Your face and eyes twitch slightly, your chest aching. You feel so stupid. Your breathing starts to escalate, coming out of your nose in short puffs. “Let go of me.”

“No.” He says, his voice hard, stern. He still grips your arm tightly, not wanting to let you go. He knows you well enough to understand that you would storm off, maybe even lock yourself in your bedroom. Both of Rafe’s hands move to your hips, pulling you closer. “Sweetheart, look at me.”

“No!” You shout, trying to pull away. You twist around, reaching down and trying to tug his hands apart. “You can’t do this to me!”

“Baby, look at me! I said, look at me!” Rafe raises his voice, finally using his strength against you, pinning you against his chest with his arms around your waist. He’s got you pressed flush against him now, one hand grabbing your chin and forcing you to face him, your neck craning. “Look at me when I’m talking to you, sweetheart.”

You squirm and wiggle, starting to cry. “You can’t treat me like this!”

His grip tightens, his jaw tensing as he grips your chin and face roughly. It almost feels like he’s manhandling you, forcing you to stay in place as he glares at you. His blue eyes have a hard edge to them. “I will treat you anyway I damn well please, sweetheart. You’re in no place to make demands or tell me what I can and can’t do. I said, look at me.”

You finally meet his gaze. You just sit in his grasp, sniffling as more and more tears threaten to fall. Your bottom lip trembles, and you wonder if you look as pathetic as you feel.

Rafe sighs, his expression growing soft. He loosens his grip on your face, his thumb caresses your cheek. He takes a deep breath, counting to four. “Come on, sweet girl. Let’s get you cleaned up.” In one swift motion, he picks you up, tossing you over his shoulder as he makes his way towards your bathroom.

“No! Let go of me!” You whine, pounding your fists against his back.

“Quit it.” He snaps, reaching behind his back and grabbing both of your wrists, yanking your hands away from him as best he can. “I swear to god, sweetheart, I will spank you if you don’t stop punching me in the back.” He pushes open the bathroom door, setting you down on the edge of the bathtub, your wrists still in his grip. He turns on the shower, waiting for the water to warm up before turning to you with a sigh. “Take off your clothes, sweetheart.”

“No.” You whine, trying to tug your wrists away.

He scoffs, exasperated. “I’m tired of having to repeat myself to you, baby. You’re gonna take a goddamn shower even if I have to force you to, so drop that attitude real quick, or I’ll strip you myself.” He leans in closer, his eyes darkening, his jaw clenching again. “You wanna be bratty and defiant with me? I can get real bratty with you right back, sweetheart. Real bratty.”

Your eyes water and your bottom lip trembles. Rafe sighs, taking another deep breath. He had to be nicer to you. “You gotta shower, baby, come on.” He grabs the bottom of your crop top gently, thumb rubbing along the hem.

You sniffle, wiping your cheeks. When your scalp starts to itch, and you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, mascara smeared, you realise he’s right. You raise your arms up.

“Good girl.” He says, sounding relieved. He reaches behind you to grab the bottom of your shirt, slowly pulling it up over your head. He can see how exhausted you are, how awful you look and how horrible you must feel. He gently drops your shirt on the floor, gently running a hand through your hair with a sigh. He reaches behind you and grabs the waist strap of your skirt. “Lift your hips for me, sweetheart.”

You obey, lifting your hips.

Rafe slides the skirt off your hips and down your thighs, setting it on top of your shirt on the floor. He then grabs the waistband of your panties, kissing your hipbones as he tugs them off of your legs and adds them to the pile of discarded clothing. He then reaches forward, gently running his fingers through your hair. “You’re so pretty, baby.” He says, his voice quiet.

“Thank you.” You whisper.

He can tell that you’re still upset with him, and while he’s annoyed by it, he tries to maintain his composure, trying to be patient with you. He steps back, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it aside before undoing his jeans. “Come on, pretty girl. Get in the shower while I undress.”

You nod, standing up on shaky legs and stepping into the shower. Your muscles instantly relax under the water as you step in, back facing the water.

Rafe watches you for a moment, his gaze lingering on your body before you shut the curtain. He quickly discards the rest of his clothes. Slowly, deliberately, he steps into the shower behind you, not wanting to startle you. He reaches over and moves you a little to the side, giving him room under the water to stand with you. He gently spins you around so your back is facing him, the water hitting your chest. He glances around the built-in ledges of your shower. “Where’s your stuff?” 

You point to the metal shelves you stuck onto the wall, full of expensive products, all gifts from Rafe.

He glances over at the shelf, noticing how neat and precise everything is. Rafe laughs as he grabs your shampoo. “God, you always gotta have everything organized.” He teases, pulling you against his chest with an arm wrapped around your torso, his strong hand pressed against your stomach. He kisses your shoulder before lifting your hair away from your neck to kiss there, his chest and abdomen pressed flush against your back. 

He pours a fair amount of the shampoo into his hand, setting the bottle down. He hasn’t had to actually wash his hair in so long, he forgot what a normal amount of shampoo looks like. He rubs his hands together, lathering it up before starting to gently massage into your scalp. “Keep your head tilted back so you don’t get anything in your eyes.”

You tilt your head back, reaching back and putting your hands on his ribs to keep steady.

He hums in approval as his fingers work, rubbing and massaging your scalp. His body is relaxed against your naked curves, his fingers now working through your hair slowly, ensuring it’s completely lathered before he moves onto the conditioner. He keeps the conditioner in your hair while he washes your body. You reach up and grab your face wash yourself, squirting some into your hands before thoroughly washing your face, trying to get the two-day-old mascara off. Rafe keeps his arm wrapped around your upper body so you can keep leaning against him.

After rinsing yourself clean, he turns the water off, pushing the shower curtain open. He grabs a towel for himself off of the hook by the shower, stepping out. “C’mere, baby.” He says quietly.

You step out, watching as he wraps the towel tight around his waist. He grabs another from your linen closet, holding it open for you. “Arms up, sweetheart.” He says, waiting for you to obey, and you do, lifting your arms. 

Rafe quickly wraps the towel around you, gently rubbing your body to dry you off. He then pulls you close, hugging you. One hand holds the back of your head, the other resting on the small of your back. He’s been craving the feel of your bare skin for the past two days, and it was nice to finally feel it again. “I’m sorry.” He says, quietly, sincerely. His lips graze your forehead.

“Why couldn’t you have just texted me?” You ask.

Rafe pauses, sighing. He was worried this would come up at some point. He tries to choose his words wisely, so he won’t start a fight so soon after the initial one. “Because… I…sweetheart, I was trying to keep a low profile with her.” His voice is just above a whisper. “Texting you would have let her know there was something going on.”

You shake your head. “You could’ve texted me and then immediately deleted the conversation. She wouldn’t have noticed.”

“I thought of that,” He starts, his brow furrowing. “But the thing is…she looks at my phone sometimes. So I just didn’t want to risk it, alright?”

You look away as he starts to dry your hair with the towel. “I wish things were different. I wish you could change.”

“That’s not fair, baby.” He says, his voice holding a hint of warning. He’s annoyed with you again, but he tries not to lash out this time, especially when taking into account how much he missed you. “You act like I don’t want things to be different.” He runs the towel over your head, gently squeezing your hair to wring out the excess water. “Do you even have enough respect to see me try?”

Your breath hitches. You watch him as he finishes with your hair, wrapping the towel around your chest. 

“I love you, Rafe.” The words tumble out of your mouth before you realise you even said them. “Of course I have respect for you. Of course I want you to try.”

Rafe pauses, his shoulders relaxing as his expression softens. He smiles at you, his eyes looking into yours. He grabs your hips, his thumbs rubbing along the soft skin there. He sighs, closing his eyes. “Then don’t act like I’m evil when I do try.” His voice is quiet, soft. “I mean it. Stop acting like I’m a complete ass to you, sweetheart, because I have been fucking trying.”

He didn’t say he loved you. You don’t care how crazy and clingy you sound at this point, you have to know. “Do you love me too?”

Rafe opens his eyes, his expression growing serious all of a sudden. He pauses for a moment, searching the gaze of your eyes. His hands on your hips move to your lower back, wrapping around you and pulling you close against his chest. His chest is warm against your bare breasts, his body firm and strong. “Baby, that’s a stupid question.”

“You didn’t answer it.” At least just lie and say yes. Please just say that you love me more.

He sighs, his grip on you growing tighter. One of his hands moves up to the back of your neck, holding you in place. He lifts your chin up with a single finger, looking into your eyes. “Loves never meant much to me, sweetheart. I mean… Ward told me that he loved me, and you know exactly what he did.” Rafe brushes his thumb across your cheek. “But…yes, I do love you. You’re the only one I truly love.”

“Promise?” You ask, your voice quiet.

Rafe holds that strong eye contact for a few more seconds before his face softens more, his gaze softening in his eyes. “I promise, sweetheart. I swear on my life. I don’t love anyone else as much as I love you.” His other hand runs up and down your sides, fingers spreading across your skin.

“Not even Sofia?” You ask.

“Especially not her.” He says, pulling you even closer against his chest. He’s growing agitated again. “I told you this before. Everything with her is fake, completely fake. I’m with her for appearances. All she is, is a pretty face.”

You want to believe him, so you do. You lay your head on his chest, wrapping your arms around his torso.

Rafe sighs, relieved that you seem to finally understand. He rubs your back, one hand wrapping around your neck to keep you held against him. He kisses the top of your head, resting his chin on top like before. “Don’t ask me that question again, sweetheart.” He says, his voice gentle, yet stern. “You know I only love you, there’s no need for you to ask such dumb questions.”

You nod. “Can you stay tonight?”

He sighs, nodding. “Yeah. I can stay tonight.” He takes your chin in his hand again, tilting your face up to look at him. “Can you promise me something, though?”

You take a deep breath. “Anything.”

His brow furrows again, his thumb rubbing along your jawline. “Don’t ever doubt my love for you, alright? I can’t deal with that self-loathing bullshit you pull sometimes, sweetheart, you got that?”

Your eyebrows furrow slightly. You weren’t expecting that. But at this point, you’re so desperate to lay down with him that you’ll do anything he wants. “I promise, Rafe.”

He smiles, kissing your forehead. “Good girl.” He says, his voice gentler. “Now, let’s get you into bed, hm?” You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist as he carries you to bed. He lays down next to you, tucking you in before handing you his phone. “Pick out what new phone you want.” When you look confused, he sighs. “I told you I would buy you a new one because you destroyed yours.”

Oh, yeah. This has been the longest two days of your entire life, and you weren’t even sure if any of that actually happened.

Rafe unlocks his phone before handing it to you, picking something to watch from the small TV on your dresser. You scroll through his pages of unorganised apps, before finally finding Google, typing in the newest iPhone model. You buy yourself a new phone in your favourite colour, all on Rafe’s dime. You’re tempted to text Sofia pretending to be Rafe and tell her it’s over, and to leave you alone, but you don’t. Rafe loved you, and Rafe wanted you. He could dump her himself.

You lock his phone, handing it back to him. He sets it on your bedside table, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you close.

If it’s meant to be, then it will be.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

let me know what you think my lovelies!

part 3 is here!

★taglist: @ietss, @loves0phelia, @drewsphswife, @pillowprincess4him, @maybankslover, @theeternaloptimistt, @jumpme300, @xcinnamonmalfoyx, @matthewswifeeee. reply to this post if you would like to be tagged! italics mean i couldn't tag you! x

[simpee9000]

Not Just Friends - 10 -

M.List : Prologue : Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 4 : Part 5 : Part 6 : Part 7 : Part 8 : Part 9 : Words 3.1k

Childhood best friends turned into something more, at least with the label. Katsuki Bakugo, a fast-rising hero and fast-learning guy who is ever so slow in getting attached to and loving someone. Even three long years into a relationship, and your friends even forget you're even dating. Nothing happening, spare a few kisses.. like 3 kisses, during high school. Graduated and living together, and you guys have done absolutely nothing to further the relationship. Are you sure you're not just friends? Also not edited!! CW: Smut, brief domestic violence discussion, virginity loss, aggressive flirting from creeps, gore with pro hero stuff (lmk if i missed any) Applies to all chapters regardless of it is in said chapter.

It was a turn back to normal after the long conversation between the two of you. Tears sliding down your faces, majority yours but you saw a couple fall from his. It was a necessary conversation. He opened up about his quirk and apologized for ditching you. You apologize for the same.

Easily enough, the two of you moved on from it quickly. Talking about the past two months when all the overwhelming emotions passed. You blabbed about how many new offers you were getting and he talked about how he was hiring more and more people to his agency.

Despite not being able to ignore the last two months, it was easy to move past.

Growing past it within the night, having everything off your chest. It still didn't make things go back to normal.

You continued to share a bed, but changed your schedules around again to see more of each other. Flipping back into your old routine as much as possible. Not without a few changes though. Lunches would only be once a week rather than daily, and you'd be working for another hour or two after he got home. Since you wanted to sleep in still.

But it still improved your relationship again. Building it back up slowly. You were able to eat a late dinner together each night and share an off day. Sharing your off day made it easier for you anyway. After the break-in it was hard to be home without him, so the last two months were rough. Your therapist said you were doing great though, so that helped.

The first days of going back to normal was rough, having to adjust to seeing each other daily again. Conversations between the two of you felt awkward, mainly on your side. You grew so much in those two months, no longer relying on him. It shifted the dynamic.

"Y'good?" Katsuki's gruff voice broke your train of thought. Your eyes flickered up to him.

"Huh?"

"Been fuckin' playin' with your food," he points his fork at your plate, "Don't like it or some shit?"

"No, I like it," you looked back down. It was definitely not your favorite meal he made, but it was good.

His silverware claddered roughly against his plate, his arms crossing, "The fuck has been wrong with you?"

"Do you have to swear with every sentence?" you avoided, taking a bite of your food instead.

You could feel him roll his eyes along with his heavy sigh, "You've been off since."

"A relationship doesn't heal just like that," you pointed out.

"Will you look at me?" he asked annoyed. A glance up at his expression made you cut your attitude. He was trying, that much was obvious. And after all your talk of communication, you were doing nothing.

"Sorry," you set your fork down, engaging in the conversation, "I'm just lost? I guess. Hard to place it. I've changed a lot in the past two months-"

"How?"

You glared at him for interrupting you. "I've stopped prioritizing you. I'm more focused on myself now. It's hard to go back to normal when the 'normal,' was me running circles around you."

He shuffled in his seat, "That's fine. I'm glad you've moved on in that sense, done you good."

"You're not worried how it'll change us?" you asked softly, it's been all you were thinking of for the past few weeks.

"I'm always fuckin' worried," he admitted, eyes drifting to look at the wall instead of you, "But we'll work it out."

You were glad he still viewed the two of you as a 'we,' heart melting slightly as you reached your hand across the table. "I'm not going to tip-toe around you anymore, Kats."

"Good," he gruffed out, uncrossing his arms and grabbing onto your hand. Changing his focus onto that, "I don't want you to."

"Good," you agreed, smiling at how he let his thumb trace over your knuckles.

"You, um," he fumbled for a minute, eyebrows furrowing, "You're still okay with us not doing shit right?"

"I'd never push that," you confirmed, shocked he even thought you would complain about that.

"Don't get me wrong, I would, just-" he pulled his hands back wiping them on his pants before running them down his face, "my dumb fuckin' quirk."

"You love your quirk," you pointed out.

"Yeah and I'd fuckin' love to touch my girlfriend but no, I gotta be a horny virgin 'cause of it," he groaned, crossing his arms again.

Stifling a laugh was difficult, but you managed, "Maybe we can just work up to it? Get you used to the baseline first before, that."

His quirk went off suddenly, "Can't even fuckin' think of it," he groaned, standing up to go wash his hands off.

"It's cute." You followed behind him to place dishes in the skin, having cleared your plates a while ago.

"Fuck you."

"Hey," you laughed, "At least you can tell Denki and Sero that you beat them at No Nut November. And have for the past 19 years."

He shot you a glare from the sink, "The one challenge I wouldn't want to beat, great."

"It's what makes you number one to me, baby," you teased, kissing his shoulder as you moved past him, wanting to pester him while the mood was light and he was already flustered. It was nice how easy it was to move past something with him. But you wanted to test how much he'd react to you not tiptoeing around him anymore.

With success, his quirk popped off again.

"Fuck off."

You let out a crackle of laughter, "You're too easy."

"Die."

He finally stopped washing his hands, turning to dry them off. You watched from the counter, plotting. "Your back looks nice," you commented, his muscles have been more defined lately and you only got to appreciate it now. His tank top showcases his shoulders nicely.

He froze for a moment, side-eyeing you. "Do you want to get blown up or something?"

"No, do you want to get blown?" you asked back, letting Denki's crude humor influence you.

Like a charm, his quirk sparked off. "Quit it."

"Nah, it's too much fun," you smiled at him, kicking off the counter you were leaning on and moving to leave the kitchen. Hand squeezing his bicep when you walked by.

He didn't let you get even a step away before he grabbed your hand and pulled you into him. His hands grabbing at your hips and moving to push you into the counter. "Where do y'think you're goin'?" he smirked down at you.

Your face bloomed a deep shade, blushing harshly at how close he was. He hasn't been that close since you argued two months ago.

"Nothin' to say?"

You blinked up at him, trying to steady the rapid beating of your heart with the way he was tracing circles onto your hips.

"Might like you but that doesn't mean I'll let you say shit and get away with it," he crowded you closer to the counter.

"What happened to your quirk?" you whispered, losing your voice at the proximity.

"You offered to work up to it, right?" he brushed his hands clean on his shirt briefly before going back to your hips.

"Yeah," you looked down at his hands, trying to make sure the watch was off.

"It's off," he confirmed, twisting his wrist so you could see. When you looked back up at him, he held his gaze deeply, "What happened to that smart mouth?"

"Want me to show you?" you placed your hands on his chest, running over the span of his shoulders. Your body was on fire, the two of you flirted, sure, but this was different. His quirk was fully there. He was fully there.

His eyes lidded slightly, zeroing in his focus on your lips, "Fuck yeah I do."

Your lips closed the gap between the two of you. It wasn't as soft and nervous as all the past kisses, it was something you just threw yourself in. Stomach crazy with butterflies as your mind started buzzing. His hands tightened their grip on your hips as he stepped even closer to you.

Bodies curled into each other to get closer. Your hands digging into the hair at the base of his neck as you deepened the kiss. Full of passion and sexual tension. There was hardly any innocence to the kiss, and if there was, it faded within seconds.

A sigh of relief falling from your lips when his hands slipped under your shirt, brushing over your skin roughly. Fingers being callused and dry from work.

As soon as his hands met your skin he pulled away frantically. Pulling his body from yours completely before his quirk started popping off.

"Fuck me," he groaned in frustration, grabbing a dish towel and wiping his hands off.

"I wish I could," you teased.

He shot you a glare, blush flaring all over his face and coating his neck with a red. "Stop," he grumbled.

"Stop what?"

"Stop looking at me like that," he shied away, washing his hands in water for a moment.

You paused for a moment, considering how you looked. With how flushed his face was you could tell you were no better. Lips plumped and freshly kissed red as your shirt was ruffled up from his hands as you leaned back into the counter. "Why would I? You clearly like what you see?"

The confidence within you came from nowhere. There has been sexual tension between the two of you before, many times before. Even before he had the watch. But normally you had to be drunk as hell to make such obvious jokes towards him, especially ones about sex. Maybe it was the fact that it was on the table, when before it wasn't. You knew he wanted it as much as you did.

"Fuck off," he grumbled.

"Come on, Kats," you pushed your luck.

"I love you, but please stop whatever the fuck you're doing before we need a new apartment," he spoke without thought, freezing the second he realized what he said.

You barked out a laugh, he spoke so plainly. You didn't want him to get wrapped up in his head, so you ignored the rushing butterflies over his admissions. "Fine, fine," you gave in, smiling happily at him, "Hug?"

He looked at you, untrusting of you before he opened his arms, gesturing you near.

Taking the moment, you threw yourself in his arms. Wrapping your arms around his waist he pulled you in fully. Letting you rest your head on his chest as he rested his on yours.

Everything felt secure in your relationship, you'd move one step at a time together. With a lot of teasing between, but that was common between you and him, despite the lack of it lately.

"I love you too, by the way," you mumbled into his chest, having a happy feeling travel through your body at the small number of times he's actually said it.

"I know."

You moved slightly to look up at him, his eyes fell on yours before you spoke, "Are you hard?"

He glared sharply, embarrassment covering his features as you felt him grow hot. You were going to ignore the feeling of him pressing into your lower stomach, but decided you wanted the chance to rub it in his face that you have the upper hand here. He tried to pull away, only for you to keep your grip.

"Stop," he warned, his hands raised away from you.

"It's only a little spark, Kats," you tried to comfort.

With a roll of his eyes he smiled evilly down at you, "You asked for it," before you could protest, he wiped his sweaty hands on your face before rubbing the rest of it off on your sweater, down your chest.

"Katsuki! That's gross," you pulled away from him, using your sleeve to wipe away the damp residue of his sweat off your cheek before you pulled the bottom of your shirt out, seeing if he got sweat marks on it. "You just used that as an excuse to touch my tits," you glared at him, seeing the faint marks of his handprint on your shirt, right over your tits. It surprised you that he sweat enough to leave a mark.

He laughed sharply, walking out of the kitchen, "Got no proof, Brains."

"I literally have the proof of your hands on my tits," you called out to him.

He looked over you, "How do I know those are mine?"

"Really? Cause I'd let a random guy grope me and he'd be sweaty enough to leave a mark like you do," you snarked.

"No way to know," he shrugged.

"You're such an ass," you groaned.

His phone buzzing loudly cut off his laughter.

"This late?" you asked as you eyed his work phone.

"It's PR," he said as he furrowed his brows, answering the phone, "Dynamight."

You heard mumbling for a moment before he huffed and put his phone on speaker. "Can she hear me now?" the lady's voice rang through, the same manager you've spoken with before.

"Hello," you answered for him, "What can I do?"

"You've done quite enough," she spoke abruptly. It took a lot to get her mad, so to have pissed her off five words was a record. "People are spreading pictures of you crying in the middle of the street."

Katsuki's eyes shot to you, concerned.

"They also claim to of heard you talking to Deku, saying you said his name several times."

His concerned look turned to a glare quickly.

"I can explain that," you said quickly before Katsuki added his two cents, "I was having a rough time and decided to call a friend, simple."

She laughed, "It's not the simple. It was the night of your party. And with the lack of social outings between Dynamight and you, people are saying the two of you broken up."

"Why does this matter?" you asked annoyed. It was still a sore subject.

"It matters because bad things are being said about the two of you. It's not just Dynamight's image anymore, but yours too. They're saying he's abusive while also saying that you're sleeping your way to the top."

You've heard that said too many times to count. Both things. So filled with anger, you grabbed the phone from Katsuki's hand and hung up.

"The fuck?"

"I don't know! I'm annoyed," you huffed, tossing his phone onto the couch before pacing, "I'm sick of people talking."

"I get it's annoying but you're gonna hear it-"

"Not helping," you glared at him.

"PR helps get them to knock it off," he pushed.

"She hardly says anything but the obvious," you rolled your eyes, "We can just post a picture of us or something."

"How does that prove I don't hit you?"

You paused your pacing, "Under a truth quirk I said the worst thing about you was your socks. I think if you abused me I would have said that."

He gave up his fight with a shrug, moving to sit on the couch instead.

"Don't get me wrong, it pisses me off that they say that. There is just no way to prove otherwise. Nothing is ever enough for them," you corrected, not wanting him to get the idea that you were only concerned for yourself.

"If you think that, why are you so pissed right now?" he crossed his arms.

You shook your eyes off the flex of his arms, throwing your hands up in frustration, "Because everyone says that, I hate hearing it."

"What do you mean?"

"Everyone thinks you hit me or some bullshit," you huff.

"Everyone?"

"Like people that don't know you," you changed, "you're a softy and they ignore it.

"Who you callin soft?" he sat up straight.

You smiled at him, "Kats, you can't even look mad at me."

He glared at you, eyebrows being the only thing supporting it. His eyes were soft. "Die."

"Let's just forget about it," you sighed, not wanting to talk about the press or your relationship. Nothing stressful.

"Why were you even cryin' to Deku?"

"You," you admitted shamefully, looking away. Talking about this would be stressful.

When he said nothing, you turned back to him. He was staring out the window. The view was filled with city lights.

"I only called him 'cause I couldn't call you," you comforted, stepping closer to him.

"Could always call me," he spoke softly.

"Kats," at this point you were standing right in front of him

"Yeah?"

You swallowed quickly, "We don't need to do everything together."

He took a deep breath, "I know, just want you to know you can call me, no matter what."

"I already know that," you smiled fondly at him. It was one of the best things about him. No matter how mad he was at a friend or family, he would never ignore them if they needed anything, even a random call. He might ignore a stupid text, but he never missed a call from someone close to him.

"Good."

"Maybe," he looked up at you, "We don't do anything publically? If they think I'm dating you then good, if they think I'm not, I don't care."

"If you want," he shrugged.

"You don't mind?" you step closer to him, him making space for you by manspreading further.

"Not really, just don't go making 'em think you're dating that damn nerd."

"Okay."

"Want somethin'?" he looked at you with a brow up. His eyes flickering from your chest to your face.

"Seems like you do," you smiled, inviting yourself more into his personal space by straddling him, both knees by his side.

"What are you doing?" his hands were pushed outwards, far from you.

"It's fine," you hushed him, sitting your weight on his lap.

"We didn't even do this stuff with the watch," he hissed at you, face flushed.

"Yes we did," you looked at him confused, "I made you cum y-"

"Shut it," he huffed, hands popping with the sound of his quirk, "Get off."

"Look, if you really want to, I will, but I don't think you want me to," you didn't want to force him into anything.

"What even put you in this mood?" he glared at you.

"You looked at my tits," you shrugged.

"Cause you still have my handprint on em," he smirked proudly.

You looked down at them quickly, "Bakugo."

"What? It's how it should be."

"Will it stain?"

"Shouldn't."

"I hate you," you glared at him.

"Sure, cause one glance at your tits makes you wanna jump me, cause you hate me," he was too cocky.

"Shut up you can hardly kiss me without losing your mind," you fought back.

"Kissed ya earlier didn't I?"

"Barely, come on, kiss me like a man-"

Forgetting his prior reluctance, he pulled you into him. Connecting your lips in a messy kiss as his hand held you to him by the back of your neck. Slowly losing its grip before sliding down to your waist. Losing himself into the kiss just as you were.

You were shocked he was even kissing you, cherishing the win regardless. Moving more onto him. Wrapping your arms around him, scratching at his scalp as you pulled on his hair.

The groan that left his lips encouraged you to push down more in his lap, wanting something more. You could never get enough of him. Anything he'd give, you'd take.

A rough push of yourself onto him caused his quirk to go off, not just a small spark either.

It singed your top, burning your skin.

You jumped off his lap once he let go, holding your sides.

His hand was placed right over your old scar.

Posted late cause I forgot to finish the chapter, and the tag list is being a bitch rn. (phone is glitching and laptop is weird) if it's fucked up mb.

---

-Next Part-

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[disneyprincemuke]

bother figures * fem!driver

being the designated baby sister of the grid by default is never as easy as you think it would be

pairings: alex albon x fem!driver, max verstappen x fem!driver, george russell x fem!driver, lando norris x fem!driver

warnings: ugh annoying men

notes: this is hardly funny but like i've had to take inspiration from my bother-less life rn so i'm like rly going through it rn LMFAO and it's almost 5am here but as far as i'm concerned, it is night time somewhere so teCHNICALLY i'm not late to an update!

(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)

in the almost empty room, she sits in the corner seat as she taps away on her phone a message to reply to her siblings' group chat. she had arrived early for the driver's briefing and decided to take solace in the corner with a cup of hot chocolate.

she was enjoying the peace and serenity with the soft chatter in the background as she tried to lock herself in for the race weekend. that was until she felt a presence looming behind her with an aura she couldn't possibly ignore.

she slowly lifts her head up with a mean glare. she turns her head and meets max's blue eyes and sly grin. "what'cha doin'?"

she puts her phone on her lap as a scowl replaces her dead expression. "what do you want?"

"what are you doing?"

"does it hurt you when you see me and like... not do anything to annoy me?"

"yes, actually. i like talking to you."

"i just wanted to talk to ciara."

"now you can talk to me."

"but i don't really feel like doing that."

"why not? i'm here in front of you and not behind a phone screen. where's ciara?" he looks around, then at her with a beaming smile. "oh, would you look at that? not here."

"because she isn't an f1 driver."

"still not here to talk to you and provide you the joys of interacting with somebody face to face."

"max."

"(y/n)."

"times like these i remember you've got a younger sister."

"what's that got to do with anything?"

"you've mastered the practice of being annoying growing up, obviously. you're such a pro at it."

"how can you say that?" max cries, hand on his chest to feign hurt over her words. "i'm not annoying. please take that back!"

"you realise you made me stop my conversation with my lovely sisters because you saw me sitting alone."

max reaches out and pinches her cheek, grinning when blood rushes to her cheeks. "you were just looking a little lonely. just wanted to make you feel a little accommodated to, that's all."

she stares at him, lips pressed together. "okay, that's actually pretty sweet. i kinda feel bad now.”

“and you should!” max frowns, folding his arms over his chest. he leans back into his seat and rests one leg over the other. “you’re mean, you know?”

“i’m an oldest sister.”

“i’m an oldest brother.”

“i have three younger siblings that made me wanna shave my head bald.”

“that’s kinda crazy.”

“i know,” she sighs tiredly. but she smiles slightly. “but it’s kinda nice. with oscar and logan taking over those responsibilities growing up, we never had a moment of boredom at home.”

“cute!” max smiles. “if i lived with you growing up, you might’ve actually run away for good.”

“i could run away for good now if you’d like.”

“seb wouldn’t like that.”

“you’d have to deal with it. i’ll leave a note on my team’s fridge with your name on it.”

“you need to put the reason underneath. if not, your team will think you’re just naming the most handsomest driver on the grid,” max shakes his head in disappointment. “don’t wanna give off the wrong idea, you know?”

“if you say ‘handsomest’, it doesn’t need a ‘most’ before it,” she says, lips parted slightly at the atrocious grammar. if there’s one thing she can’t stand, it’s most definitely the reigning world champion making simply grammar mistakes. “you should get more sleep.”

“i do! i slept like 10 hours last night!”

“somehow i find that hard to believe with the bags under your eyes.”

“what are you two bickering about?” a hand lands itself on the back of her chair. carlos stands next to her with one hand on his hip. “i could hear you from the hallways.”

“damn, you should really keep it down, max,” she chuckles, sending him a shocked look before she clasps her hands together and rests it on her stomach. “you’re too loud.”

“i’m sure he meant you. you like… swallowed a mic as a kid,” max scoffs. he looks up at carlos. “tell me she was louder than me.”

carlos sighs. “you were loud on the same level, i believe.”

"see? i told you."

"you're moving in with logan?" alex's jaw drops, the tiktok video no his phone left to play on repeat as the younger girl dropped the news that logan's moving into her apartment. "mate, what?"

she looks up at him with a confused stare. "what?"

"i thought you said you didn't want people talking about you like that?" alex asks, raising an eyebrow. "people will definitely talk if you move in with a man."

she presses her lips together. "you've got a point, i suppose. but logan's my best friend. we've been talking about moving in together forever! since i was 15!"

"i'm just looking out for you, kid. you should really think this through," alex sighs as he slumps his shoulders. of course, he knows just how close she and logan are on a day-to-day basis. but people tend to be quite ruthless with women and he just can't see this going any other way. "you know how people are."

she sighs, shaking her head. "i don't know. i just don't think people would pay attention to that aspect of my life. i still deserve to make decisions that wouldn't be at risk of scrutiny, right?"

she takes a step forward towards alex. she hadn't exactly thought of the public implications that this would cause her. all she knew was that they'd talked about this for years and were ecstatic when logan shyly brought up their conversation from years ago.

"that's the basic that we all hope for," alex frowns. "but you know how people are. you've seen how they treat you just being here. imagine the chaos."

"maybe i'll just keep it under wraps and hope for the best," she suggests with a small smile on her face. "that could work, right? i don't wanna have to put down something i spent forever talking about."

"if you can keep it under wraps, i applaud you," alex smiles, slinging an arm around her shoulders. "and i thought you've had enough of men - why are you still moving in with one?"

"to save money, really," she smiles. "and with kidnapper and stubby at home... i think living with another person is best."

"but doesn't logan like dogs more?"

"yeah, but kidnapper's taken a very weird liking to him. he doesn't wanna admit, but i know logan really likes kidnapper a lot."

"typical logan, really."

"you'd be surprised how much feelings that loser's holding in."

"oh?" alex smiles mischievously. "tell me more?"

"nice try," she scoffs with an eye roll. "i'm not spilling the beans about logan's love life. that's lore you've got to unlock the longer you race with him. just hope he's feeling friendly enough to share, yes?"

"so true," alex frowns. "but what if he's not friendly enough? means you are my only source for material to piss him off with. so, 'fess up!"

"can't betray my best friend like that, i fear," she frowns. though, her smile grows slowly. "but i can be bribed."

a scowl carves her face as she stares at the roll-in whiteboard with pictures held up against it with sesame street magnets. she sinks into the plastic chair she's given and tilts her head at the men gathered around her.

"and that's why i think you should get the same car as me," lando says simply, recapping the marker in his hands. he turns to her with a proud smile after his presentation.

her lips part. "so that we can matchy and..."

"and fuel rumours," lando repeats. "i'm involved in too little drama this year. it's always 'no wins' this, and 'no podiums' that... i want more."

"that's not a very good argument," she answers slowly, confusion contorting her face that almost makes alex laugh. "i said that i want an easy car, not a supercar. i've made that clear to almost everyone on the grid, yes?"

"yeah, but like," lando whines, throwing his head back as he stomps a foot into the ground. "seriously? you can't do this one thing for me? i'm asking you a favour!"

"to spend big money on a supercar i have to drive like it's made of glass!" she laughs dryly, hands thrown in the air in disbelief. she looks around at the men that have forcefully pulled her out of her garage and put her in this private room, in this plastic chair when she could've been taking a power nap. "is this what i'm here for? you lot are trying to convince me to finally purchase a car?"

"as per logan's request," alex shrugs, sipping on his juice box. "he said you've been putting it off all year. the season's about to end."

"and you listened to that nonce?" she cries, pinching the bridge of her nose. "you guys are absolutely unbelievable. i can't believe i'm wasting my time here!"

george, sitting next to her with a picture in hand, points at the whiteboard timidly. "i really put in a lot of thought about a car you should get," he says softly, looking slightly disappointed that she's caught on a lot faster than they predicted. "can i at least show it to you? i don't have to present."

"aw, george," she sighs, shaking her head. "it's not another supercar, is it?"

"it's not, i promise!" he perks up with a small smile on his face. he turns to lando with a small scowl. "only lando did this presentation with his best interests in mind. alex and i took the task seriously - just hear us out!"

she looks between george and alex, contemplating if the brit is telling the truth. instead of getting up like she had initially planned, she leans back into her seat. "fine. if it's anything like lando's, i'm leaving immediately. i don't care who has yet to present."

"but this ferrari looks so pretty," charles frowns, turning the picture in his hand to show it to her. "it's matte black and all. i thought we could match."

"that is also a supercar."

"he's presenting last, so i really don't care what he says," george mutters, shoving lando away from the whiteboard. he picks up a big bird magnet and pastes his picture between lando and max's proposal. "so, i think you should get this super cute toyota car."

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[woso-dreamzzz]

Sick III

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Magda gets sick

"Momma," You say, hopping down the last step," Morsa's throwing up in the bathroom again."

Pernille looks up from the stove and sighs. "I thought I told you that you weren't meant to go looking for Morsa?"

You shrug. "I didn't go looking for her."

Pernille doesn't believe you in the slightest.

Magda had come down with some sickness, likely the flu, a few days ago. It had started off as just an inconvenience, a stuffy nose and a few headaches. Then came the throwing up and Magda being forced to lean over the toilet bowl for a few hours in the night when she was meant to be sleeping.

Pernille knew it was wishful thinking to hope that the sickness remained with Magda only but you were a bit of a nightmare when it came to getting sick so she wanted to limit the chance of you catching it as much as possible.

If only you understood that because since Magda's sudden illness, you seem to have gotten incredibly clingy towards her like you don't want to stray out of her sight for whatever reason.

Pernille purses her lips as she looks at you, stirring the soup in the pot as she ponders what to do next.

"Why don't you have tv time?" She asks, finally settling on something to keep you occupied.

You don't get a lot of tv time, at least not where you're in control of the tv. You've never really craved it when you could play with girl-swan and girl-moose or kick a football around the garden.

But still, you're a little kid and kids love tv.

"I think Scooby Doo is on."

You think for a moment before your face twists into something akin to annoyance. "I don't like German Scooby Doo," You say," Can I watch Ben 10 instead?"

"Yeah, we can do that."

Pernille sets you up with an episode of Ben 10 in German and you settle on the sofa to watch it. With you now occupied, she sneaks up with a bowl of chicken soup just as Magda makes her way back to bed.

"You look...better."

"Don't lie." It's nice to see that Magda's humour is still there. "Is this for me?"

"Chicken soup." Pernille hands the bowl over. "You should probably wait for it to start cooling down."

"I'll be fine," Magda says," It's not like I can taste it so the heat might be the only enjoyable thing about it."

"How are you feeling? Do you need more medicine?"

"Can't take any yet. Hasn't been four hours but I'll be fine. I spoke to Linda. She said the throwing up only lasts a day. I'll be alright by tomorrow."

"Still," Pernille says," Eat your soup and drink lots of water. We're meant to be setting a good example to Princesse."

The corners of Magda's mouth quirks up a little. "Where is she? You know, I'd feel a lot better if she's here?"

Pernille rolls her eyes, scoffing. "Oh, I see. When I'm sick, I can't see her so she doesn't get infected but when you're sick, you can see her all you want? How is that fair?"

Her tone is teasing and Magda flashes a wolfish grin.

"Swedes don't infect Swedes. It's a rule."

"Well, it's great that she's Danish too, huh? No Princesse time for you until-"

"Hey, Princesse. What have you got there?"

Pernille whips her head around to see you standing by the door, clutching the little first aid kit that's usually hidden in the bathroom cabinet.

"I thought you were watching Ben 10?" She says as you come in, clambering up onto the bed and sitting on Magda's outstretched legs.

"Got bored," You reply, forcing the zip open and rummaging through it," I'm gonna make Morsa better though."

"She's sick, Princesse," Pernille says," Are you sure? You can get sick too."

You give Pernille the biggest judgemental look you can manage. "I know, Momma. I'm not silly. But I'm still going to make Morsa better."

In all honesty, Pernille is a little intrigued about how you're going to make Magda feel better with the first aid kit so she doesn't push anymore for you to leave the room.

"Does your head hurt?"

"Yes."

You bring out one of the bandages, winding it around Magda's head and tucking the end into itself.

"There you go!" You say," Now your head won't hurt. Does your throat hurt too?"

Magda nods.

You whip out one of the big plasters that's meant for big cuts and grazes on the knee and place it over Magda's mouth, making sure it's completely secure.

"You need to stop talking," You tell her sternly," Because that makes your throat hurt." You turn to Pernille. "Momma, I fixed her!"

Pernille has to force down her laughter at the bewildered expression on Magda's face.

"I can see that," Pernille says," We should leave Morsa alone now so she can recover. You did a good job."

You nod. "I know." You blow Magda a kiss. "I can't kiss you because then I'll get sick," You tell her," So have air kisses!"

You blow more kisses at Magda and shuffle off the bed, taking Pernille's hand.

"Can we finish watching Ben 10, Momma? It's a really good episode!"

[devilstruly]

KEN SATO

in pictures

pairing - kenji sato x gn. reader

includes - random stuff, friends (?), lovers (?), who the fuck knows this is ken

a/n - up until 6 hours ago i had no idea who this dude was but now i can safely say i'm fucking in love. also i've never made a post like this before but i had to do something with him before going insane

without further ado...

~☆°☆~

no.1 - ignore his dad obviously

'huh.'

'and then- what?'

'you're cute.'

'wh- i- huh???'

no.2 - date night out

'mina showed me one of your games last night. you really are great.'

'c-come again?'

no.3 - admitting defeat

'well you look like shit.'

'what are you doing here?'

'someone needs to take care of you since you clearly won't.'

'...thanks.'

no.4 - jealousy, jealousy

'it seems that you are experiencing discomfort due to y/n talking to one of your teammates. why is that, ken?'

'i'm fine, mina.'

no.5 - this one is self-explanatory honestly

no.6 - protective much?

'can i help you?'

'holy shit- you're ken sato! the ken sato! oh my god-'

'so you know who i am. good, i can be quick then.'

'huh-'

'see that beautiful person over there? look at them one more time and you'll get to feel what baseballs feel after i hit 'em. we clear?'

'i-uh- y-yes, sir-'

no.7 - the fuck me eyes

'stop staring at me like that. we're in public.'

'like what?'

'like this.'

no.8 - asshole

'aren't you supposed to be at a press conference right now?'

'oh give me a break, i just won the team one of the most important games of the season. drink?'

'you're unbelievable.'

'why thank you ~'

no.9 - head over heels

'how was the game? i saw your team won.'

'yeah, yeah, we did. it was great. yoshino has been doing better, he scored a home run today.'

'awww ~ looks like your apprentice has been taking notes.'

'pft, he's not my apprentice, just a good player.'

'give yourself some credit, ken. you brought the team together and it's showing. i'm proud of you.'

'...'

'ken?'

'uh- ehem - when's your flight?'

'tomorrow morning. i'll be there by 10.'

'i'll wait for you at the airport.'

'you really don't have to-'

'shut up and go get some sleep. i'll see you tomorrow beautiful.'

no.10 - not a morning person

'you look adorable when you're sleep-deprived.'

'shut the fuck up.'

~☆°☆~

[ultravioletbrit]

“nightmare” - Jegulus microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - 351 words

James loves Regulus. He really does, more than anything. But Regulus on little to no sleep can be a bit of a nightmare. James can handle Regulus’ most murderous glares and snarkiest insults, but sleepy, grouchy, cranky Regulus is one of the scariest things James has ever seen.

So, James has been dreading their 6am flight because he has to wake Regulus up at 4am. However, when James rolls over, he finds the other side of the bed cold and empty. Confused, James gets up to search for Regulus and he's not prepared for what he finds.

James walks into the kitchen and Regulus is standing at the stove singing and dancing while casually flipping pancakes.

“Reg?”

“James!” Regulus spins around and bounces over to James. “Good morning!”

“Good morning.” James says slowly. “What time did you wake up?”

“Oh, I didn’t.” Regulus tells him. “I never went to bed. I didn’t want to wake up this early, so I just decided to stay up, so I started drinking coffee last night around 10 and then I had an energy drink at midnight and then again at 2 and I’ve made a few more pots of coffee. How are you? Are you all packed? Any last-minute things you need to pack? Don’t forget your things from the bathroom. Did you shower? I already showered, so you can shower whenever you want. And I made breakfast. This is actually the second breakfast because I made some a few hours ago but then I realized it was too early and you wouldn’t be up yet, so I ate that and now I’m making another batch for you. There’s fresh coffee and I'm making blueberry pancakes, but if you want something else, I can make that also. Are you okay, you’re being very quiet.” Regulus says all in one breath and James just blinks at him several times.

“Reg…” James starts but he’s cut off when Regulus gives him a quick kiss.

“It’s going to be such a great day, James!” Regulus bounces back to the stove.

James has a feeling it’s going to be a very long day.      

[strawberrynull]

──⯎ ˙🚬 ̟ cigarettes out the window

엔하이픈 | Enhypen | Nishimura Riki

──Pairing: niki x afab!reader

──Genre: angst, some fluff

──Synopsis: Whenever you're unable to sleep due to your insomnia, you go to your balcony to smoke. Niki decides it might be a good idea to take a drive around the city to get some fresh air, hopefully to help you sleep

──Warnings: smoking, cigarettes, insomnia

──A/N: I have two requests that I'm currently working on. This is just a filler until those are done lol

masterlist

11:08 p.m. you read on the digital clock on your nightstand. It was another restless night. Your eyes stung from staring at the bright billboard right outside your bedroom window. The advertisement displayed on the billboard would change every 10 or so minutes. You had counted the ad changing at least 8 times since you had laid down to go to sleep with your boyfriend, Niki, who still rested beside you. His arm was still gently draped over your waist. Your insomnia wasn't new news. Usually, you were able to sleep on nights where Niki slept over at your apartment, though. Tonight was different.

Carefully, you lifted Niki's arm by the sleeve, slipping out of his hold and out of bed. You opened the nightstand drawer and grabbed your usual pack of cigarettes and a silver lighter. A light breeze blew through the room as you opened the glass door that led to a small balcony. You took a cigarette and placed it between your lips as you stepped outside. You flicked the lighter a few times before putting the flame up to the end of the cigarette.

Unbeknownst to you, Niki woke up at the feeling of your absence. His eyes fluttered open, squinting at the bright city lights spilling through the glass doors. Through the blinding lights, he could see you standing out on the balcony with a cigarette in between your index fingers. He watched as you leaned backward, elbows on the railing, tilting your head back and exhaling the smoke. You looked stunning in Niki's eyes. He knew you smoked when you couldn't sleep but he had never witnessed it in person.

You watched as people still roamed the city below you. Cars, buses and taxis still filled the streets and many stores were still open to the public. It was lively and bright even in the middle of the night. Your apartment was 7 stories above it all. Your friends and family had warned you about how noisy the city was at night. They had told you to get an apartment further from the noise. Considering your insomnia, moving to Gangnam was not the wisest choice. Most nights were spent lying awake while staring at the obnoxiously bright billboards. Other nights were spent at Niki's house where you could actually sleep in a dark and quiet room. Occasionally, Niki would spend the night at your place and, somehow, on those nights you were able to sleep despite the noise and the light.

After about an hour and a half, you took one last drag from your cigarette before putting it out on the railing and tossing the excess on the floor of your balcony. Trying not to make any noise, you stepped inside and made your way to the bathroom to brush your teeth. Niki watched the bathroom light flick on and then off as you exited. When you were done you slipped back into bed next to Niki, shifting back into his arms. The smell of cigarettes still lingered on your old band t-shirt.

After another 2 hours of trying to sleep, you got back up, sighing in frustration. Niki was fast asleep again so you carefully tiptoed out to the balcony. You leaned your stomach against the railing as you lit up another cigarette between your lips. Then you hear the sliding glass door open and shut, and a familiar hand finds its way around your waist.

"Can't sleep, beautiful?" You hear Niki's deep voice which is groggy from waking up so suddenly. Next to you, you see him rub his eyes before leaning on the balcony with you. "What's going on in that pretty mind of yours, hmm?" He gives you a concerned look as you exhale smoke. You shake your head as you flick some of the cigarette ashes.

"I don't know, Ki. It's never been this bad." You take another drag from your cigarette as you stare anywhere but at your boyfriend. Seeing you like this makes Niki almost want to blame himself. After all, you did move to Gangnam to live closer to him.

"You should stop doing that." He says quietly, pointing at your cigarette.

"I know," you sigh, letting smoke rise into the air. "I'm going to soon. Don't worry about me."

"But I am worried about you and I want to make you feel better no matter what." Niki explains, taking one of your hands in his. He's sincere in every word that he says. Helping you is his life's goal, at this point, and he's determined to get you back onto a normal sleep schedule. "Let's go for a drive, yeah? Maybe it will help calm you down enough to get at least some rest tonight."

"Niki, I don't think that's going to-"

"If it doesn't work, I'll stay here all day until you're able to sleep." He cupped both of your cheeks, pleading you to let him try to help. "Please.." You nodded reluctantly before putting out your cigarette and tossing it with the rest.

You hopped into the passenger seat of Niki's car; a black Ferrari Enzo. You hadn't been in his car at night many times. It was an astounding experience. Niki would always take the streets with barely any cars so he could speed down the asphalt roads. The windows would be rolled all the way down, letting the wind hit your faces. If you weren't close by to any residential areas, he would blast music as well. You were also allowed to smoke in Niki's car, which was not preferred but he allowed it.

Driving with him was so much fun that by the end of the drive you were all tired out. Enough to make you fall asleep as soon as you were home. Niki came over to your side of the car, opening your door for you. He walked you into your apartment and even tucked you into bed. His sweetness warmed your heart. Before leaving, Niki made sure to close the blinds to darken your room. He knew you hated how bright the city was at night.

"Get some sleep, beautiful. You deserve it." He said, wiping stray hairs from your face. He leaned down to place a kiss on your forehead before turning to leave. Not long after Niki left, your eyelids felt heavy. Now you could finally get some sleep.

© strawberrynull, 2024. Do not copy my work. Please DM for permission before translating or reuploading. Thank You

[fartfather]

Audience of One pt.3

Satoru x fem!reader x Suguru

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

Word count: 6.5k

Series Summary: When Suguru first walked in on you and Satoru having sex, it was an accident. But he couldn't say the same about every time after that. He's under the impression that this habit of his is a secret. But you and Satoru have known this whole time and didn't plan on letting Suguru know anytime soon.

pt.3 Info: MDNI 18+, fem!reader, PiV sex, unprotected sex, voyeurism, threesome/throuple, cuck Gojo, hair pulling, morning sex, squirting, praise/degradation kink, spanking, begging, pet names (princess, baby, love, etc), established relationship w Gojo, aftercare, basically 90% porn 10% fluff, Gojo teaching Geto how to fuck you, Geto is no longer shy

pt.1 pt.2 pt.4

˚₊ · »-♡→ I know I said I'd post pt.3 yesterday, but I panicked and rewrote like half of it (oops lol). BUT- I'm much happier w this version 🛐

Also not sure if this would be a good place to end?? or if more parts would be wanted ¿ I would be more than happy to turn this into a series and I even have a pt.4 in the works, but I also don't want this to feel dragged on yk. Please lmk your thoughts because I am incapable of making my own decisions (ノ ° 益 °) ノ

Early hours of the morning came, and the first one awake was Geto. He looked down at you and his breath caught in his throat.

You looked so peaceful.

So angelic.

He couldn't help but press a soft kiss to your forehead.

His mind wandered to last night and he smiled. Everything was perfect. The feeling of your bare body was warm and inviting, and having you pressed against him sent sparks down his spine. Geto had never felt this way before.

He could get used to this.

"Hey," a sleepy voice whispered from beside him, startling him out of his trance.

Geto turned to see a very disheveled Gojo looking at him through half closed eyes, "Hey,"

Gojo’s attention shifted to your resting figure, still curled up against Geto's chest. He couldn't help the smirk that spread across his face.

"She's really out," he whispered with a small chuckle.

"Yeah," Geto replied, "we wore her out."

"Damn right we did," Gojo smiled proudly, "I'd like to see how long it takes to wear her out next time," Geto's eyebrows raised at the mention of a 'next time.'

Seeing the surprised expression, Gojo smiled and reached over, and landed a playful punch on Geto's shoulder, "I meant it when I said you're welcome anytime- In fact, I was thinking, would you want to do this again? Not just the sex, I mean, I that part too, but like, all of it. Hanging out and stuff," he clarified, a hint of embarrassment in his voice, “It just seems like there’s good chemistry between us,” he added trying to explain his reasoning with a gesture that circled the three of you.

Geto thought for a moment, contemplating his answer.

Last night was the best night of his life. And he didn't want it to end. He wanted to be able to feel your warmth against him again and again. To be able to see your beauty, and to experience all the joy and happiness that came along with it.

The events of last night unlocked something deep within him. His desires had surpassed mere lust, and turned into something more. Something deeper.

Something genuine.

And with that revelation, Geto decided to take a leap of faith. "I'd like that," he replied, a bit of nervous enthusiasm coming out in his tone.

Smirking, Gojo nodded and moved to brush stray pieces of hair out of your sleeping face. "Great. Well, I guess we'll have to have a real conversation about this once she's up," he nodded down at you, "but for now, we should probably get some more sleep."

"Yeah," Geto nodded, a smile creeping onto his lips.

With that, the two men fell back into a comfortable slumber, their arms gently wrapped around you.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

A few hours later your eyes began to flutter open, thick with blurriness from the heavy sleep you were just in.

Once your vision cleared, you were met with the sight of Gojo's sleeping figure beside you. His hair was a mess, sticking out in every direction. The sunlight was peeking through the curtains, casting a glow on his bare skin.

Turning to your left, Geto lay fast asleep. His features were relaxed, and his mouth hung slightly open. You couldn't help but admire his beauty.

You couldn't believe how lucky you were. Laying between these gods that walked among men.

You didn't want this moment to end.

Lifting yourself slightly to yawn and stretch, you accidentally hit Geto in the face, waking him. "Oops- I’m so sorry!" you giggled and flashed him an apologetic smile.

"It’s okay, beautiful," seemingly unphased by your elbow making contact his forehead, he smiled, leaning down to press a kiss on your cheek, “Good morning,”

The gesture was unexpectedly warm and sweet. Not that Geto had never been sweet to you before, but this just felt… different. Like it carried a new weight behind it.

You smiled and leaned into the kiss, "Morning," you murmured back, your voice still laced with sleep.

Geto's heart skipped a beat at the sight of your smile. He just couldn’t get over the warmth you radiated.

You felt a hand slide up your side and rest on your waist. "And what about me?" Gojo pouted.

Turning to face him you placed a soft kiss on his lips and mumbled into it, "Hello, baby," He hummed in satisfaction and scooted in closer, not wanting to leave even the slightest gap between you.

“How did you sleep?” Geto asked while massaging your neck that was tense after the events of last night.

"Mmm, so good," you replied, letting out a small sigh as the tension left your shoulders. You could practically feel the aches melting and your muscles turning to malleable putty under his touch.

"I'm glad," he smiled, continuing to rub his thumb into the knots of your skin.

"And you?" You asked, turning to look at him.

"Wonderfully," he smiled, his hands not stopping their massage. You couldn't help the way your cheeks heated up from this simple interaction.

God, his man was truly a treasure.

Gojo watched the interaction and felt a warmth spread through his chest. He liked seeing that you brought out Geto's soft side, and he knew that you enjoyed it too. The three of you stayed like that for a few minutes, silently enjoying each other's company.

Then, Gojo let out a dramatic sigh, and broke the silence.

"Hey, so," he started, looking between you and his friend, "Suguru and I talked earlier," Your brow furrowed at the tone in his voice. He sounded nervous.

Perking up, you raised a brow at him, "Oh?" You questioned.

"Mhm, we had a very productive conversation," Gojo continued, "while you were asleep," he clarified, "and, we think that, well, we- um, the three of us should hang out. Like, outside of sex. Or during. Or after. I mean- not like a requirement, just an option, if you're comfortable," he rambled.

You blinked.

Your face twisted with confusion as you tried to process his words. "Toru, what are you talking about?" you questioned, needing clarification.

"I want to date you too," Geto cut to the chase, his voice surprisingly steady and confident, "you would be with both of us. At the same time."

You stared at him.

Your brain was blank.

You breathed out a surprised, "Oh," The thought of it was interesting and foreign, though, not unwelcome.

"Only if you're comfortable with it," Gojo quickly added, "we know it's a bit... unconventional."

"A bit?" you asked sarcastically with a small laugh.

Gojo laughed and nodded, "Okay, a lot," he admitted, "but, we talked, and we agree. We want this," he said, motioning between the three of you, "Geto has clearly developed something for you, and vice versa. And I figured what better solution than adding Suguru to our relationship?"

You sat in silence for a few moments, mulling over the situation.

"It wouldn't be weird to you?" you asked Gojo with a concerned expression, "sharing me with your best friend?"

"Not if it's Suguru," he replied without hesitation, "we know each other well, and I trust him with my life. Plus- if it was, I would have never been able to enjoy the sight of my best friend eating out the woman I love, right?" he added with a teasing smirk, referencing the events of last night.

Your eyes widened and your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, "Satoru!" you scolded.

Gojo laughed and pulled you in for a quick kiss. "It's true," he whispered against your lips.

Turning to Geto, you gave him a questioning glance, "And you're okay with this?" you asked, wanting to make sure he was certain.

"Yes," he answered without a moment of hesitation.

"You would really want this?" you questioned, "It wouldn't be weird for you?"

Geto let out a chuckle, "I wouldn't be offering if it was weird for me. I'm not going to lie, it's a little unconventional," he stated, "but, I would love the chance to be with you- even if it's not the traditional way," his confession caused a wave of butterflies to erupt in your stomach.

You thought for some time. The two men waited patiently, knowing that you would need a few minutes to process everything.

Assessments of the situation swirled in your mind. You loved Gojo and the life you had with him. And you wouldn’t want to do anything to jeopardize it. But they both seemed so certain. They said they trusted each other, and if that was the case then why shouldn't you?

And on top of that, you couldn’t deny how Geto made you feel. Last night was clearly more than a one time deal. It was deeper than just sex, it was intimate. The way he touched you and admired you all night had chills running down your spine from just thinking about it.

The more you thought about it, the more appealing the idea became.

Being able to be with both of them was a dream come true. They were both kind, generous, and made you feel like the most precious thing in the world.

"If you aren't comfortable with this-" Gojo began, but was quickly cut off.

"I want to," you said quietly, "but what if something goes wrong?"

Gojo and Geto exchanged a quick look and burst out laughing.

That was certainly not the response you were expecting when airing your worries. "What's so funny?!" You asked, a bit irritated that they were laughing at your valid concerns.

"Baby," Gojo chuckled, "have you not seen the shit we've been through together? We'll be fine.”

Crossing your arms in defense you Looked between the two of them, "But still- What if you guys get jealous, or something goes wrong and we stop talking, or- or-"

Pressing a finger to your lips, Gojo silenced your anxious ramblings, "Shh, baby," he whispered sweetly with a reassuring smile, "We've got each other's backs. Plus, I'll kick Suguru's ass if he makes you upset," he joked.

Geto laughed and nodded, "I'd do the same," he added, causing a small giggle to slip past your lips.

You gave them an unsure smile, "I know you say that nothing will happen, but what if something does?" you countered, looking between them for an answer.

Gojo took your hands in his and looked you dead in the eyes. "Nothing will go wrong," he said, his voice now serious and full of promise.

"I'll make sure of it," he stated, a fire in his eyes, "Suguru will too."

A heavy sigh escaped your lips and you turned to Geto with a silent question in your eyes. "I'm not gonna let either of us fuck this up," he affirmed, reading the concern behind your gaze.

"We want to make this work," Gojo added, "And besides, do you really think I would put the best pussy of my life at risk?" He squeezed your side, making you let out a giggle.

You gave him a playful shove, "Shut up, idiot,"

"It's true!" He laughed and caught your wrist, pulling you in and placing a kiss on your temple.

"He's right though," Geto smirked, "last night was the best experience of my life. And that’s saying a lot considering I didn’t even fuck you."

Your cheeks heated and you let out a flustered laugh, "So you're in this for the sex, is that what I'm hearing?" you teased, poking Geto in the ribs.

He caught your hand and pulled it to his lips, planting a kiss on your knuckles. "No, sweet girl, its more than that." he said, looking down at you with a tender smile, "I'm in this for you- you know that."

The way his tone softened and his eyes gleamed was enough to make you melt.

And without wasting another moment you looked between the two men and nodded, "I'm in," you stated confidently, "if the two of you are."

Both their faces lit up at your confirmation, and the smile on their faces was bright enough to blind a person.

"Hell yeah!" Gojo cheered and wrapped his arms around you, "we're gonna make this work," he said, placing kisses all over your face. Geto smiled and joined, littering kisses down your neck.

And just like that all previous worries were melted away from the tingles that rippled across your skin after each new kiss. You giggled and melted into both sets of arms that caressed and embraced you gently.

Slowly, their sweet kisses began to get more rough. More hungry.

The way their hands roamed your body and their lips nipped at your flesh sent a spark of excitement through you.

"You're gonna be all ours, aren't you, princess?" Gojo purred into your ear.

A small whimper slipped past your lips as his breath fanned your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. "Mhm," you hummed, your eyes becoming heavy with lust.

Geto's fingers traced your collarbones, moving further down and stopping just above your breast.

"And I'm gonna take such good care of you, give you everything you want," Geto promised, "you're mine too now."

His possessive words sent a jolt of heat straight to your cunt and you arched into his touch.

"Yours," you mumbled, too drunk off their affection to register what was being said.

They both let out satisfied hums.

Gojo's hands slid down your body, his fingertips grazing your nipples, before resting on your waist. "Our perfect girl," Gojo murmured and pressed a kiss to your shoulder, "you're so beautiful."

Geto's fingers dipped down into your cleavage, squeezing your breasts gently, and his lips found yours. "So obedient," he mumbled into the kiss.

You whimpered against his lips. The feeling of their hands all over your body and their praises filling your ears was intoxicating.

"Mm, fuck," Gojo groaned, grinding his erection on your ass.

Gasping into the kiss, your eyes widened and turned to him "Satoru," you whined.

"Shh, Princess," he shushed, his hands gripping your waist, "be a good girl and keep kissing Suguru while I play with you,"

Your breath hitched, but you nodded and turned back to Geto, who was looking at you with a dark lust in his eyes. And instantly, Geto's warm lips were back on yours. They felt soft and plump, like velvet pillows, and you couldn't help but melt into the sensation.

"Good girl," Gojo praised, his hands moving further down your body.

You whimpered when his hands came into contact with the bare skin of your thighs, his touch sending chills through your body.

Gojo leaned down and planted a kiss on your shoulder, then continued peppering kisses along the sensitive skin of your neck, "We're gonna keep you nice and happy, baby," Gojo promised, the vertebration of the words on your neck tickling you lightly.

Your mind was blank. All you could do was moan and let them explore your body. Geto's tongue was slowly swirling around your own. His movements were slow and gentle, taking the time to savor the feeling.

Rocking into Geto's thigh, you chased the pressure, hoping it would satiate the throbbing in your cunt.

Geto's grip tightened on your tits and he pulled back slightly, just enough to break the kiss and allow a string of spit to hang between your mouths. "This desperate already?" he smirked, his thumbs rubbing circles into the hard buds of your nipples.

"Always," Gojo smirked, "she's such a needy little slut,"

You whined and rolled your hips, the need between your thighs growing more apparent with every passing moment.

Geto's eyes flicked down to your mouth, which was parted and breathing heavier, then back up to your eyes. The sight made his cock twitch, and his gaze darkened, "Fuck, that's so hot," Geto groaned, his dick already hard. His hands moved downward to your hips, gripping to hold you still, "Be patient for us, princess."

Gojo continued his kisses along the length of your neck, his lips brushing against your skin, sending goosebumps up your arms. "She loves hearing us praise her," Gojo smirked, "she's always so desperate for any sort of validation. Drives her wild,"

The truth in his words made you whine and looked at Geto, who was staring down at you with lust-filled eyes. "Is that so?" He asked, his hands moving to cup your face.

"Yes," you breathed, leaning into his touch.

His attention turned back to Gojo, "And does she like to be degraded too?" He asked, curious, but already knew the answer.

Gojo opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off from a whimper that escaped your lips. You bit your lip, cheeks flushing with embarrassment as you avoided their eye contact.

A mischievous smirk formed on Geto's lips, "Oh?" He tilted your chin up and looked down at you, "Look at me," he demanded.

You did as instructed, your heart skipping a beat when you met his gaze.

"Tell me," he began, his thumb running over your bottom lip, "do you like being treated like a little slut?"

His question caused a rush of heat to run through your body. You could hear the blood rushing in your ears, and you could swear that your arousal was now dripping onto the sheets beneath you.

Gojo couldn't help the chuckle that slipped past his lips. Your obvious reaction to Geto's words was adorable.

"I'll take that as a yes," Geto smirked, his eyes not leaving yours as he pushed his thumb past your lips. "Although, I guess I shouldn't expect anything more from the dirty slut who would let me watch her boyfriend fuck her for months."

The humiliation that coursed through you was overwhelming, and yet, you felt more aroused than ever before. You closed your eyes and took Geto's thumb into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the digit and letting out a moan.

You were helpless to the words coming from Geto's mouth, and there was nothing you wanted more than to be completely submissive to him. It was clear to them that this new way that Geto spoke to you was making you dizzy with lust.

"Oh, you like how Suguru is talking to you right now, don’t you, princess?" Gojo smirked, watching your reactions, "He's always so polite, so gentle with you. It's a nice change, huh? Seeing him be a little mean."

You nodded and moaned around Geto's thumb, which was still resting on your tongue.

Gojo was right, you did enjoy the new change. The way Geto looked down at you with a dark glint in his eyes, his usually sweet and caring demeanor nowhere to be seen, was driving you crazy. You wanted nothing more than to be dominated by him.

To be completely and utterly destroyed by him.

"What do you think, princess? Should we have Suguru fuck you? Let him see what a dirty, slutty, cum dump, you are firsthand?" Gojo cooed, his hands roaming up and down your thighs.

You whined, and Geto withdrew his thumb, a string of saliva still connecting it to your lips. "Is that what you want?"

”Please," you begged with an embarrassing urgency, "please, please, please, let him fuck me." you turned to Gojo, who was already beginning to stroke his cock with his free hand.

"Please," you repeated, looking up at Geto with a pleading expression, "I need it, please."

"Oh, you need it, do you?" Geto cooed, "Such a pathetic little slut, begging for my cock, and you don't even know how good I can fuck you," he teased, looking down at you with a patronizing smirk.

You whimpered and looked up at him, desperation clear on your face, "Show me," you begged, "please, show me how good you can fuck me."

The corner of his mouth lifted into a smirk, "Well, since you're asking so nicely," he said, "Get on your back. Now." His demanding voice took you by surprise and you immediately followed his instructions.

You untangled your legs from his and laid back, looking up at him with wide, innocent, eyes.

"Good girl," Gojo praised, sitting beside you. He pushed your legs apart and dipped his fingers between your folds. He rubbed his hand sloppily, for his pleasure only, the goal being to collect your juices. Then, he brought it to his dick, using it to help his jerk off.

"So wet," he said, pumping his dick with your slick.

"Toru," you pleaded, arching into his touch that was no longer there.

"Shh, just sit back and let me watch Suguru fuck you, princess," Gojo soothed, his thumb running circles around his slit, mixing your wetness with his pre-cum.

The room felt like it was spinning around you, and the only thing grounding you was getting touched in the place you needed it most.

Geto positioned himself between your legs and placed his cock on your clit. You could feel the hot, throbbing, length rest on your sensitive bud and it made you shudder.

Geto's hand gripped your thigh and he spread you wider, taking in the sight before him. "God, I'm never going to get tired of that view," Geto sighed.

"Just wait until you're in her," Gojo smirked, admiring your glistening slick rub onto Geto's shaft.

He let out a hum and slid his cock between your folds, coating his dick in your wetness. You moaned, your breath hitching as the head brushed against your entrance.

Seeing how needy you were getting, Gojo moved his free hand down and spread your lips, exposing your dripping hole for Geto's viewing.

"So pretty," Geto praised, his tip prodding at your entrance.

You were soaking wet and more than ready for him, and when he slowly pushed in, a loud groan ripped through his throat as he inched deeper into your warmth.

"Oh, god, so tight," he praised, his hips pausing halfway to give you time to adjust, "so perfect."

Your hands balled into fists and you moaned loudly, the feeling of him filling you up was so overwhelming, but in the best way possible.

"Isn't she?" Gojo asked, leaning in to press kisses against your neck, "you're perfect, aren't you? The perfect little fuck toy for us, and us only- Say it."

As he continued to slowly slide in, Geto kept his eyes trained on yours, not wanting to miss a second of your reactions.

Heat rose to your cheeks under his gaze, embarrassment evident in your expression. "I- I'm," you stuttered, a small whine slipping past your lips before you could get the words out.

"Use your words," Geto commanded through clenched teeth, his grip on your thighs tightening as your cunt pulsed around him.

You whimpered and nodded, trying to collect yourself. "I- I'm a perfect fuck toy," you choked out, a mixture of craving and shame washing over you, "yours- just for the two of you,"

"Fuck- Yes, you are," Geto praised, bottoming out and giving you a few moments to adjust. You whined and clenched around him, feeling fuller than ever before.

After your muscles relaxed, you rocked lightly against Geto's cock, to show you were ready for him. Though, just that small movement had you seeing stars as his tip hit your g-spot.

Your mouth opened in a silent scream and your nails dug into the sheets, gripping tightly.

"Oh, did I find it already?" he asked patronizingly, his voice laced with sarcasm, "You must be so sensitive," You could do nothing but whimper and nod, not being able to form words.

"Fuck, do that again," Geto demanded.

You followed his instructions and rocked against him, moaning at the sensation. "Holy shit," Geto gasped, his eyes rolling back as you squeezed his cock.

Gojo watched with wide eyes, his hand slowly stroking his cock as he watched the scene unfold before him. "How does she feel?" Gojo asked with a chuckle. He already knew the answer.

Geto moaned, slowly starting to roll his hips, "Fucking heavenly," You felt a wave of satisfaction wash over you, knowing that Geto was enjoying your pussy just as much as you enjoyed his dick.

"So warm and tight," he added, picking up his pace, "I could fuck her all day,"

"Please," you whimpered, "fuck me all day,"

A satisfied smile crossed Geto's face, and without a word, he started to thrust into you at a steady pace. You gasped, feeling his cock fill you up with each push. Your walls tightened around him, trying to pull him deeper.

"Fuck," Geto groaned, "Such a greedy fucking pussy, doesn't want to let me go."

You whimpered and wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer. His hands grabbed onto your waist and his fingers dug into the plush flesh. The room filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, and your moans and whimpers grew louder and louder.

"Mm, look at her," Gojo cooed, "she's so fucking desperate."

"Mhm" you breathed out nodding and looking up at Geto, who was watching your every move. He looked absolutely breathtaking. His hair was a mess, his face was flushed, and his eyes were filled with desire. The sight of him looking down at you like that made your heartbeat quicken.

"You love having my cock buried deep inside of you, don't you?" he asked.

You nodded vigorously, unable to form any words, but the way your hips met his every thrust and the sounds that came out of you told him all he needed to know.

"Oh?" Geto smirked, "You need more? Fucking impatient little slut- You need me to fuck you harder?"

"Yes, please, please, please," you begged, your head falling back against the pillow.

"Such a good girl," he praised, his hand moving to rest on your lower stomach, "such a polite little whore for my cock."

He pushed lightly onto your abdomen while fucking deep into you. The pressure from his hand was foreign and had you squirming and whimpering, biting your lip to hold in your cries of pleasure.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, there! There!" You screamed, "Please, don't stop!"

Geto smirked and leaned forward, "Look at me," he demanded, his voice firm.

Your eyes shot open, not even realizing they had been closed. You stared up at him and his lust filled eyes, a look you had never seen before on his face. The sight made you instantly moan and your eyes began to roll back involuntarily.

"Keep your eyes on me," he commanded, emphasizing each word with a hard thrust.

Your jaw fell slack, and a strangled moan slipped past your lips as pleasure coursed through your veins. "S- sorry," you stuttered.

Gojo groaned and his fist picked up pace, jerking his dick in tandem with Geto's movements. "It's okay, baby, you're doing so good," he whispered, leaning forward and brushing the hair out of your face, "so good for us."

Geto's pace continued and the heat in the pit of your stomach began to build dangerously fast. "Fuck, Sugu- I- I-" you stuttered, struggling to form a coherent sentence.

"You're so close already, aren't you?" He cooed, his eyes not leaving yours.

You nodded, and a loud whine slipped past your lips as Geto's hips started to pick up speed. "Fuck," he groaned, "fuck, you're squeezing me so good, baby,"

"Gonna- Gonna cum," you managed to say through heavy breaths and muffled moans.

In response, the hand on your stomach pushed slightly deeper, and that's what threw you over the edge. The pressure had your toes curling and your back arching upwards followed by a strangled scream on your lips as you came hard.

Your vision went white, and a ringing filled your ears.

"Oh, fuck," Gojo groaned, watching your legs shake and your face display your ecstasy.

"Shit," Geto groaned, "keep cumming for me, baby, just like that- fuck!"

Gojo smirked and leaned back, admiring his two lovers. "God, the two of you are so fucking hot," he said, his hand working furiously to match the pace that Geto was now setting.

You could barely register what he said, too overwhelmed by the waves of pleasure crashing through your body. The warmth from deep in your core had overflowed, somehow finding its release- and soaking everything around you in the process.

Geto moaned loudly and looked down at your pussy, Gojo eyes followed, widening and jaw dropping.

"Holy shit," Gojo breathed out, "She's squirting," he said in awe, "fuck- I didn't even know she could do that."

Your juices were flowing freely, coating Geto's cock, balls, and the bed beneath you in a thick layer. It was as if a flood gate had opened and your arousal was pouring out of you.

"Oh, god, oh, god," Geto repeated, "you're squirting on my cock," he groaned and picked up his pace, fucking you through your orgasm, "so good, fuck- So fucking perfect."

Your mind was blank, all you could do was babble and moan, letting Geto fuck you as you rode out the last waves of your orgasm.

"Fuck," Geto growled, his hips began to stutter. "Go on, Suguru," Gojo urged, nearing his own climax, "cum in her."

Geto looked down at you, the glazed over expression on your face was enough to send him over the edge. With a final thrust he bottomed out and painted your walls with his seed, the sensation pulling a long moan from both of your lips.

You could feel his warmth spill into you, filling you up and coating your walls, and causing a brain numbing tingle to run up your spine.

Gojo wasn't far behind, his own cum coating his hand and abdomen. He pumped his shaft as the last few drops landed on his stomach. "Holy shit," he breathed out, leaning back and letting the orgasm wash over him.

"Fuck," Geto groaned, his head dropping to the crook of your neck. Both of you were completely spent, not even bothering to move or say a word. The only sounds in the room were the heavy breathing and racing heartbeats.

You could feel Geto's warm breath against your skin as he took a few deep breaths. You brought a hand up and gently ran it through his hair, scratching his scalp lightly.

The gesture was simple, but it made his heart melt, grounding him from the high he just experienced.

"That was fucking hot," Gojo praised, "You're both so fucking sexy. I loved seeing you two together."

"So good, my beautiful, perfect, angel," he continued, placing kisses on your forehead and cheek, "you did so well,"

You turned to him and smiled lazily, enjoying the praise. Geto looked up and admired your blissed out expression. "You look so pretty like this, sweetheart," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your cheek, "so gorgeous."

You leaned into his touch and hummed, your eyes fluttering, half lidded in tranquility.

Gojo chuckled and placed a kiss on your temple, "Don't get too comfortable, princess, we still need to clean up."

"I'm not leaving this bed," you mumbled, closing your eyes completely and nuzzling into the pillow.

"You're so spoiled," he chuckled and turned to his friend, "Help me out here, man."

"Sorry, baby," Geto apologized, kissing your nose, "he's right, we need to get you cleaned up," You groaned and nodded, accepting defeat. Geto slowly pulled out and stood up.

"Come here, my sweet, precious, girl," Gojo said, lifting you off the bed, bridal style, "Let's go take care of you."

You giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck. "M'kay," you replied, resting your head on his chest. Gojo carried you into the bathroom, and Geto followed closely behind. He sat you down on the toilet and you leaned against the wall, closing your eyes.

Once Geto entered, he turned on the bath faucet and waited for the water to warm.

"Do you wanna use a bath bomb, princess?" Gojo offered, reaching into the cabinet under the sink. "Ooh yes, please," you nodded opening your eyes with a tired smile on your lips.

A bright grin spread across Gojo's face from seeing you perk up, "Okay!" He exclaimed, grabbing one of your favorites and tossing it into the bath.

The sweet smell of citrus quickly filled the air, and the sight of the bubble bath and colorful fizzies had you feeling relaxed like never before.

Geto shut the water off and walked over to you. He knelt down and cupped your cheek, his thumb running over the soft skin. "How are you feeling, sweet girl?" He asked, a small smile on his lips.

You hummed and leaned into his touch, "Amazing," you replied.

He chuckled and kissed your forehead, "Good."

After all of the residue made its way out of you, you cleaned up and Gojo lifted you into the bath. He settled in behind you, wrapping his arms around you, and pulling you back to his chest.

"Is the temperature okay, princess?" Geto asked, sitting in the opposite side of the tub.

You hummed, closing your eyes and resting your head on Gojo's chest. "Perfect,"

"Good, we want you to be comfortable," Geto said, smiling.

"Thank you," you mumbled, snuggling into Gojo's chest.

It was a little crammed and you guys probably should have showered beforehand, but in that moment it was perfect and everything you could ever need.

The three of you had become comfortable and content.

As if that's how things had always been

Gojo was playing with the bubbles and making shapes with them on top of your head, while Geto was helping to wash the sweat off of your skin, his fingertips running gently along the curves of your body.

It felt so normal and domestic, and that's exactly what you had always wanted.

"So, how does this feel?" Gojo asked, reaching behind him to grab a loofah, "Is it weird? Being the meat in a Gojo and Geto sandwich?"

You choked on your breath and your eyes shot open, "Ew! It wasn't weird until you said that! Gross," you said, giggling and shaking your head.

"Yeah, Satoru, why'd you have to word it like that?" Geto asked, chuckling and chastising his friend.

"Oh, come on, don't be like that. It was funny!" Gojo laughed, running the loofah across your back, "Now answer the question."

"No, it doesn't feel weird," you replied, a smile on your lips, "I mean, yeah, we haven't done a lot yet, but I'm happy, and I like being with both of you."

"Yeah," Gojo agreed, "it's different, obviously, but, I'm glad it's the three of us. I love the dynamic, it feels like... home. Like the three of us were always meant to be together. Me and my two favorite people!" He threw his arms around your neck, his hands falling just above your chest.

You looked at Geto and he had the most genuine, loving smile on his face. "I couldn't agree more," he said, reaching out to take your hand in his. His hand was warm and comforting, and the way his thumb was rubbing circles into the skin had a warm tingle running up your arm.

Gojo was right, it did feel like home.

A warm, safe, comforting, home.

It was a strange situation, one that you never would have imagined yourself in. But at the same time you knew that the three of you would be able to make it work.

The three of you stayed in the bath for a little while longer, laughing, teasing, and joking, and eventually Gojo and Geto switched places. When the water began to get cold and the bubbles began to disappear, Gojo lifted you out of the bath and brought you back to the bed.

He gently laid you down and dried you off, pressing kisses all over your skin.

Geto emerged from the bathroom and watched the two of you. He could see how much Gojo cared for you, and how you trusted and loved him. It was a sight that made his heart flutter and he could only hope to have that deep of a connection with you one day.

"You're so cute," Gojo cooed, placing the towel over your head and rubbing it gently.

"Toru," you whined, the feeling tickling your scalp, "you're going to make my hair frizzy!"

"Shhh, let me enjoy this," he chuckled, moving the towel and planting a kiss on your forehead, "I love taking care of you, and seeing you so relaxed. Plus, I think your hair is adorable no matter what, and I know Sugu does too,"

Turning to Geto in the doorway, you pouted and tilted your head to Gojo, "Help me out here," you pleaded.

Geto couldn't help but smile. "He's right, sweet girl," he chuckled, walking towards the bed, "I think your hair is gorgeous no matter what," He pulled you into his chest for an embrace, but then scruffled your hair, catching you off guard.

"Hey!" You yelped, pulling away from him and trying to flatten your hair, "not you too!"

They both let out a laugh. "Sorry, baby," Geto apologized, leaning forward and pressing a kiss on the crown of your head.

"Traitor," you mumbled, earning a chuckle from Gojo and Geto.

"I'm gonna get dressed, I'll be right back," Geto said, reluctantly pulling away from the scene, "then, how about I make us a late breakfast?" You nodded and gave him a small smile.

"I knew there was a good reason to keep you around," Gojo teased, earning a slap on the shoulder from Geto before he walked off, "Ouch! Hey!"

Laughing you shook your head at Gojo's dramatic performance of pretending to be hurt by rubbing his shoulder, "I'm so wounded," he joked, flopping onto the bed beside you, "you're gonna have to kiss it better," he winked with a smirk.

"Maybe later," you giggled, giving him a peck on the cheek.

"Fine, fine," he scoffed, rolling his eyes and sitting up.

He smiled as he jumped off the bed and threw on a pair of sweatpants, "Come on, baby," he said, holding a hand out for you, "I'll pick out an outfit for you." You happily accepted and followed him over to your dresser, ready to start your day.

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[3:32 pm]

"Now he's thinkin' bout me every night, oh! Isn't that sweet? I guess so!" You heard for the thousandth time today.

You sighed, rubbing at your temples as you folded the laundry. This had been going all day. Since the second you woke up, Haechan had been singing Espresso since his eyes opened. At first, it had been funny. You had even bobbed your head along with his voice, but not now.

Now, it had been 6 hours of hearing the song over and over again. You heard it as he sipped his coffee. You heard it as he showered. You heard it as he changed the bed sheets. You heard it as he made lunch. It was starting to drive you absolutely insane. You loved Haechan, you loved his voice, you loved his presence, but this was something else entirely.

Singing the same song over and over again wasn't something that he did often. It happened every few months, enough time to make you forget about the last time it happened. To his credit, it was a good song. It was catchy and he sounded good singing it. At least he did earlier, now he was reciting the lyrics and emphasizing words with a growl, it had gone too far.

You had taken to the bedroom while he cleaned up the kitchen, as far away as you could get from him without leaving the house. You could hear his muffled voice. It was the closest thing you'd gotten to silence all day. It was precious.

But then his voice got louder. He was down the hall. Louder and he was in the doorway. Closer and his arms were wrapped around your waist as his voice filled the room, "move it up, down, left, right, oh. Switch it up like Nintendo."

Haechan swayed you back and forth, quickly tearing you from the side of the bed to spin you around. He spun you around, pulling you back to his chest as he danced with you and sang at the top of his lungs. Your neighbors were going to complain! "Say you can't sleep, baby, I know! That's that me espressooooo!"

You couldn't take it anymore, you wriggled your hand out of his hold and cupped your hand over his mouth, "I love you. You know I do, but I am going to send you to your mother's if you don't stop singing that song! It's good, I love it, but don't ruin it for me, please."

His eyes were wide as he looked back at you and nodded. You slowly removed your hand, entirely cautious and wary of the fact that he would totally start singing again just to be a pain in the ass. He kept his eyes locked with your own as he gulped, "I just feel like I should let you know that she has a song called Please, Please, Please and I really, really want to sing it now."

"Donghyuck, do. Not." You stated coldly, narrowing your eyes at him as if to strengthen your demand.

He nodded, "ok, I promise. Don't send me to my mom."

You should have known. You should have known better than to trust his word. It had been a blissful 10 minutes of actual silence. You could hear the cars going down the street, kids playing outside, the wind rustling the leaves on the trees and then... then "I'm workin' late cause I'm a singerrrr."

"Lee Donghyuck!"

"It was an accident! I'm sorry! Don't call my mom!"

[submattenthusiast]

no sleep

wc : 2.3k, lowercase intended

pairings : sub!matt x kinda mean!dom reader (no use of y/n)

contains : SMUT, use of mommy and mama,edging,degrading,p in v, more probably.

notes ! - this took so long never again. thank you for all of the love on beggin. proofread but probably not good.i appreciate any and all feed back love y'all.

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today was supposed to be a lazy day for you and matthew, as both of you had nothing planned and you rarely got days like this.your boyfriend had other plans apparently.

the poor boy started his day moaning and groaning from a wet dream that he had, not wanting to wake you, he tried to contain himself and his raging boner and go back to sleep.

“o-oh mommy please i can't take it anymore p-please let me cum” is all you heard as you stirred awake from the continuous movement and noises coming from your boyfriend. the needy boy was practically humping you, desperate to get off. instead of waking him up and helping him out, you decided to go back to sleep having plans to help him out later.

he had woken up confused and horny trying to remember his dream before it faded.seeing that you were sound asleep next to him he snuck off to the bathroom to handle his situation so he could come back to bed.

after 10 minutes of trying and failing pathetically to get his boner to go away he gave up and came back to bed. he tried to go back to sleep but his cock was twitching and it was starting to hurt,without realizing he started inching closer and rubbing his cock against you trying to relieve himself in any way possible."mm? matt,baby? what are you doing?” you said quietly as you woke up from his motions against your back. 

“oh shit i'm sorry i-i just” matt spoke,embarrassed that you caught him getting off so pathetically. “you just what?” you questioned. “it hurts so b-bad i just wanted to make it stop,”he said barely above a whisper. “by humping me like a dog?” you mocked . he whimpered, as his face turned red from embarrassment."y-yes mama i’m sorry” “please help me i need you so bad” he begged getting closer to you. “no matthew, mama’s tired, go back to sleep and don’t you dare touch yourself,” you said sternly. he pouted before silently agreeing,adjusting himself and attempting to sleep.

not even an hour later you feel the bed moving,causing you to wake up once again.the culprit being your needy boyfriend having yet another wet dream."matthew?” you spoke a bit irritated.“hm ? oh hi baby w-what’s wrong” he said groggily and confused. “humping me and now humping the bed?” you said as you moved to straddle him. ''m sorry i guess i was having a bad dream'' "he said confused. ''well that dream woke me up for the second time” you sighed.before he could speak again you continued “you’ve been such a needy slut all night,wakin’ me up so i’ll have to help you out huh?” you said degrading him “n-no mama i-” he stuttered. “no? so you don’t want me to get you off?”, “you weren’t just moaning my name” you said ,making him look down.you grabbed his jaw, making him look at you “if you don’t need me then i’ll get off your lap and go back to sleep,yeah?” you cooed. “NO! please help me i’m sorry please help me i need it so bad, please” he begged, looking up at you with puppy eyes.

“you’re gonna cum and then we’re going back to sleep,do you understand me?” you said,still gripping his jaw tightly. “y-yes mommy i promise” he said, looking up at you. “good boy,now strip,” you demanded. He scrambled to his feet to strip,eager to please you.“what now mama?” he asked,moving to sit back down on the bed,slightly shy because you still had all your clothes on. “you think you can fuck me sweet boy?" you asked while moving his messy brown locks out of his face. “n-no- i mean yes but-!” he started to speak “but what matthew?” you questioned as he got quiet ''i want to mommy i-i just'' he began “won’t last long” he whispered the last part embarrassed.you chuckled before responding “you were so desperate to cum before,what happened baby?”. “it’s not funny”,he pouted “j-just wanna make you cum too” he said while fidgeting with his fingers. 

you moved from your position in front of him to lay down on the bed.he sat there nervously waiting for your next command.you gestured for him to move as you spread your legs,making room for him.he got on his knees in between your legs and started lightly touching your thighs,slowly making his way up to your underwear.matthew looked at you for permission before eagerly taking them off.he was mesmerized by your pussy,almost drooling at the sight.you giggled before urging him to make a move. “s-sorry mama, fuck you’re just so pretty” he said still focused on you. “i’m so pretty but you still can’t fuck me?” you teased before continuing “guess i’m gonna have to get myself off then” you smirked,moving to get up before matthew pushed you down “no NO-!”,“please i can do it”,“ i can make you cum please please lay back down” he said barely finishing his sentences.

you stayed silent,making him nervous so he buried his head in your neck whispering apologies and kissing anywhere his lips could reach,before you spoke again “so needy still?,"don’t you get tired” you said while moving his head.he looked down at you before adjusting his position and slowly slipping his cock in.the room was filled with soft whimpers and moans before he spoke again “like that mama?”,a-am i doing good” he questioned desperate for praise, before whimpering again.“fuck” was all you could say as he bottomed out. with your permission he slowly started moving, his cock filling you up deliciously. “you’re doing so good,baby fuck,but i need you to go a bit faster, okay?” you cooed.your words flipped a switch in him as he started to increase his pace ,thrusting into your pussy roughly. “shit just like that”you said before moaning loudly as he hit that sweet spot inside you continuing his thrusts,he slithered his hands around your waist,gripping you as if you were gonna disappear if he let go.

you could tell he was getting close as his moans increased in sound and his hips started to stutter.“fuck mommy i’m close m sorry” he whimpered loudly. “hold it” you said without hesitation.“f-fuck i can try mama” he whispered attempting to slow his thrusts.you wrapped your legs around his waist pulling him in closer as he leaned down,attempting to muffle his sounds with your boobs.bliss is all you felt as he rutted his hips into yours repeatedly,letting your tough demeanor slip,too fucked out to see the warning signs that the boy above you was getting dangerously close to the edge.his whimpers,his loud moans,and most importantly him startin to cry.he sniffled before speaking quietly, “m so sorry fuck i’m sorry” he said barely above a whisper.his words snapped you out of the trance he put you in, whipping your head down to where the two of you were connected and quickly realized why he was crying ''matthew”,you nearly spat,intensely glaring at him.head still hung in shame and tears still strolling down his face he responded, "y-yes”. “got something to tell me?” you asked harshly.he started fidgeting nervously as if he wasn’t still buried deep inside you,cock covered in his own cum. “i-i came without permission i’m s-s-orry” he said shamefully.before you had a chance to speak up he continued,rambling. “i’m so so sorry i just-!,fuck i needed to cum and m so pathetic mama m sorry” he expressed,hoping for some sympathy from you.you paused for a moment, gears shifting and turning in your head,as you thought of what to do with your boyfriend in this moment.your silence made the boy feel every emotion at once,causing him to start throwing up words again. “mommy-” was the only word he could get out before you interrupted him “you hurt my feelings,being so desperate and selfish.” you said with pout, “you were supposed to make me cum,but i guess i was right huh?”, “can’t even make me cum,how pitiful” you spat.he whines at your harsh tone and derogatory words “no i can please m sorry for being selfish,please let me make you proud.”  you grabbed him by his chain bringing him to your face as you firmly spoke “i don’t want to hear a sound from you,and if i hear a single sound you are fucked”. he nodded not wanting to get into deeper shit but he was feeling deprived still. “u-um can i still have a kiss”, he mumbled. “do you deserve one matthew?”, you half joked, but the poor boy took it serious. “o-oh no i guess not m sorry” he muttered sadly.feeling a slight bit of pity, you pulled him down for a sweet and slow kiss, knowing how much he needs reassurance.

he weeped into the kiss as he slowly started moving his hips.the boy was set on making you cum,so desperate to hear you call him a good boy.the pace he set was mainly for him,still being so incredibly horny and still reeling from his previous orgasm.“this pace is putting me to sleep and not in a good way” you said,holding back a moan from feeling so full. “sorry fuck sorry” he said while adjusting the speed of his thrust,beginning to pound into you.“fuck just like that baby,keep going” you moaned.he was hitting all the right spots,his tip hitting that sweet spot inside you deliciously.if you weren’t paying close attention you would not have heard the muffled groans and tiny moans from your boyfriend. “c-can’t stay quiet mama” matthew started, “cover m-my mouth ple-ase’’ he stuttered out,the pleasure overwhelming him slightly.he shyly looked up at you,eyes pleading for you. “my sweet boy,finally listening to me” you cooed,as you moved your finger up to his mouth,confused he opened his mouth to speak,giving you the perfect opportunity to slip your finger in.taking whatever you give him,he began sucking gently on your index finger,groaning at the taste.with your finger still in his mouth,you adjusted so you where near his ear and breathed out a soft “good boy” making him stop his thrusts momentarily. “d-don’t say that please i’m gonna cum again and i d-don’t wanna disappoint you” he sighed. “close already matthew?” you teased,he slowly started moving instead of replying.

him ignoring you set something off,since he didn’t wanna respond but won’t stay quiet you’ll just have to shut him up! you pulled your finger out his mouth with a pop,quickly moving your hand to cover his mouth.his thrusts continued,as he stayed focused on being quiet and making you cum.licking and biting all over the hand covering his mouth,letting you know that he was close to coming undone.you removed your hand from his mouth and he took deep breath before speaking again. “i’m sorry,i can’t hold it anymore,please i need to cum” he pleaded with you. “i-i can still k-keep going after i cum b-but please i can’t–fuck” he whined loudly,rutting his hips against yours desperately. “cum for me” you said softly.his thrusts became eratic as he came hard.he momentarily paused his thrusts,coming down from his previous orgasm.cum started to spill from between you both, onto the silk sheets underneath. “you okay sweet boy?,are you sure you can handle another?”, you spoke as you caressed his cheeks.he leaned into your touch before speaking up “y-yes m sorry i’ll get to it” he sniffled,tears beginning to form in his waterline. “my good boy,mommy’s so close” you cooed up at him.

matt was still a bit sensitive from previous orgasms and on the brink of overstimulation.he slowly started moving his hips again,wincing slightly as he moved.he gave you a moment to adjust,before setting a steady pace. “f-fuck keep going sweetheart you’re so amazing” you said through moans. during these intimate moments he needs praise,no matter how much he likes your degrading words. “am i doing good mommy,m-makin you feel good” he asked nervously,biting his lips. “please-shit,please tell me m doin good please” he begged. “yeah baby,doing so good for mama,making her feel so good” you breathlessly said against his lips.he moaned into the kiss before breaking it to speak again “are y-you close mama,you’re gettin really tight.” you giggled at his way of saying he feels you clenching around him. “mommy’s so close sweetheart” you whimpered.he moved his head down towards your neck,leaving soft kisses in a beeline towards your boobs.he found comfort within your tits,kissing and sucking on them for a moment.

your orgasm hit you like a truck,experiencing multiple forms of pleasure.the boy sucking on your boobs messily,fingers rubbing frantically on your swollen clit,and his cock hitting that sweet spot. “ shit mama’s gonna cum” you moaned. “god-fuck keep going don’t stop” you groaned,while throwing your head back into the pillows. “m cumming again mommy please let me” he whined,wanting to cum at the same time. “cum with me,wanna hear those pretty sounds” you somehow got out with all the stimulations you were feeling.one final thrust from the boy and the room was filled with heavenly moans and whimpers.he slowly pulled out,a mix of cum spilling out of you.after pulling out he cuddled up next to you,looking up at you with love.you wrapped your arms around him showering him in kisses and praise . “i-i love you mommy” he whispered sleepily. “i love you too sweet boy,lets get you cleaned up so we can sleep’’ you spoke between kisses.

you both showered and changed into pajamas and you finally got to sleep.

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notes - this is so ass and i didn't know how to end it BYE

re-upload!

[sunnymoonxx]

❝what was rule number #2 again❞ I.| bucky barnes x reader

pairing: tfatws bucky x reader summary: messing around in banner's lab, the night before your mission wasn't as good an idea as you thought, and you begin to question your actions the moment you step out of it. things worsen when you realize the super soldier serum isn't immune to an unknown contagious disease. warnings: sex pollen, no warnings this part, the II one? hahaha

a/n: I may have insulted the reader a few times in the beginning, so I apologize for that. but let's be honest, we'd do the same. I decided to split this fic into two parts because if I wrote it all into one part, it'd have 10k words. I'm not an english native speaker, so forgive me my sins and bad grammar if you find something.

m.list

You weren't stupid. But you also weren't exactly smart. If you were, you would've minded your own business, stayed in the gym, and went through the plan for tomorrow's mission. Maybe even go to bed a little sooner, to be ready for the next day's alarm. But Banner was away for a business trip, and seeing his lab silent and alone didn't exactly sing you lullabies to sleep. That's why you found yourself standing in the heart of it at 3 a.m., in your pajamas, praying everyone was asleep. It was well known around the compound that Banner's and Stark's labs were a faraway island, and anybody with a brain would circle around them. But you were an excellent swimmer and sharks didn't scare you.

10 hours later, you realised why Banner turned green every time someone even glared the glass door of his science play room. You were a fast swimmer but not exactly a bright one. The only bright thing related to you was that you were easily struck by it. And the glowing pink flowers in Doc's terrarium took you down faster than the sharks. It was bright pink with purple shadows. It reminded you of passionflower, but it was bigger. Way bigger, and you weren't sure if you were hallucinating, but the feeling of the flower's filaments moving was too strong. They were moving in waves, then circles, then each moved in its own way. It was mesmerising.

It was too late before you realized you moved the flower out of its enclosure to get a closer look at it. The smell hit you hard, filling your brain with colorful fog. You smelled a dash of cinnamon, mixed with ginger and lavender. You couldn't miss the powerful vanilla and pumpkin filling up the room. You didn't realize how bad the consequences of smelling Doc's flower would be until you came undone under your fingers nearly seven times. And it still wasn't enough. The scheduled time of your and Barnes' meeting was quickly approaching, and your skin didn't feel less on fire than it did two hours ago.

You managed to get out of the sweaty mattress and put some clothes on you, loose ones, hoping that your skin could breathe a little. You prayed some air would cool you down, clear your head, and slap some sense into you. It was now obvious why Banner was so determined not to let anyone close his lab. He was experimenting with aphrodisiacs, and you, unwillingly, became one of his lab rats. Thoughts didn't stop multiplying in your head until one landed steadily on its feet. Tony has been visiting Doc's labs the last few weeks, five minutes on the dot after curfew. You knew because you were always stationed on your balcony, which gave you a clear view of the other building, and its glass windows didn't hide much. It only became pitch black when Tony came in, and Banner didn't even flinch when he heard the door shut.

Chuckle left your lips when you connected the dots, ignoring how amusing you must look for Barnes, sitting right next to him.

"Something funny?" he asked, not dropping his gaze off of you. You were now on your way to the target's last seen place, being lucky enough to get a ride in Tony's self-driven car. You wanted to drown him in kisses because you can only imagine the suffering if you had to walk all the way from the compound to the other side of the city. Your skin was still on fire, your hair was sticking to your neck, and salty drops chased each other on your skin. You certainly were an amusing sight to Bucky. Or a terrifying one. You wished he got used to it by now. After all these years of fighting against each other, then with each other, and now forced to fight by each other's side, he saw you through worse conditions. But as far as he knew, you were locked in your room all week. You had no reason to look like you had an early meeting with the reaper.

"Just, thinking," you mumbled back at him, forcing yourself to keep your head rested against your seat, begging your body to not betray you for looking back at your partner. Your body fighting the chemicals in your body, you could only imagine how it would end if you stared at Barnes for more than five seconds. Worse, let alone if you touched him. You read about aphrodisiacs and scientists' failed attempts to know what you were going through. You were prepared to die before touching Barnes.

You were secretly jealous. It wasn't fair of you, but Barnes' serum running through his veins protected him from anything related. You almost abandoned your morals, but the pain you were going through justified it. You had no idea how you were going to focus on the mission, communicate with James, and, if it came to it, fight the target. You could only focus on the heat between your legs and how touch-starved you were. And your, undeniably, attractive coworker wasn't helping the case.

You and James had a complicated history. Both born in the 40s and dated for a while before he fell from the train. Years later, he comes to kill you for Howard's successful experiment on you. Immortality would definitely suit HYDRA and their planned assassinations. James, back then, the Winter Soldier, failed to capture you, so they decided your family's fate. And your friends. Then, years later, Howard's. You forgave him. All of it. Because you knew it wasn't him. But when he came back from Wakanda, with no traces of HYDRA in him, and didn't spare you a glance, you couldn't forgive him that. Seventy years of tolerating the actions HYDRA made him do, and he couldn't even look at you. It broke your heart but rather to act like a cunt than a weepy baby, begging for attention that will never come.

"Well then, do it fast. We're almost there." You hear his grumpy voice, making the butterflies in your stomach double their count. The decades-old memories of you together overwhelmed your brain like a tsunami. You couldn't swim out of that. The way his tongue circled your clit as you played with his hair at the theatre restroom. Or when he made you ride his face with Steve in the house. The way he pounded into you against the wall so you wouldn't forget him when he gets shipped out the next morning. And the way he had to cover your mouth that night at the bar, celebrating his unit's rescue. Now he was sitting millimetres away from you, and he wouldn't have done any of it. You still hoped, subconsciously, he'd dick you down like he did all those years ago. But that was a fantasy. Very vivid, real fantasy.

"Yes, sir," you let out, closing your eyes, tugging on your shirt so your fingers wouldn't accidentally slip in between your thighs. You didn't wanna make a scene. Even tho at some point, you knew you would.

You didn't catch James' hungry gaze when he heard those words slip from your mouth. At the back of his head, he reminiscent the amount of times it was him, slipping out of it.

It took you exactly 17 minutes before you got yourself out of Tony's car. You accidentally grinded yourself on his leather seats, causing you to accidentally moan, and of course, Barnes caught it. He'd never miss that sweet sound leaving your lips. At nights, he wished he'd made you sound like that, even louder. But that was ages ago, and you were over him. It was the only thing that made sense to him.

Five minutes into your romantic stroll to the target's office, the wetness in your panties got worse. You figured the more you moved, the less it hurt, but the pleasure doubled. And the Avengers training lessons didn't exactly cover how to act if you're orgasming every five seconds just because your thighs rubbed against each other.

Correction, you didn't actually cum. It was more of a frustrating edging that made you wanna rip out your hair. You were sure Barnes had already figured something was off or had at least suspected something. The suppressed moans and the tugging on your crotch weren't exactly subtle.

"Alright," he stopped walking, a few meters away from a huge building. It was surrounded by a deep forest, straight from a horror movie. "he was last seen inside. If Steve's correct, we should..." You kept nodding, not actually paying attention to what he was saying. It was the way his metal arm moved when he talked and the way his fingers curled while explaining the plan. You never got the answer to your question if he could feel through his amputated arm. He had to, you thought. You heard him groan every time someone pulled it too hard. You were embarrassed how much it roused you when you heard him whimper in pain, but it was also one of the things that circled your head when you were alone in your room.

You'd imagine, would it feel different. It would definitely be cold, rougher, you suspected faster. And with the serum running in his veins, he'd definitely last longer. That, you were one hundred percent sure, for it was Natasha's moans you heard for over two days after she and Steve finally hit it off. But Nat was also a super soldier. Bucky would probably tire you out by the 2nd round. But you were willing to risk it.

"If you're not gonna be listening to me, then you can turn around and go back." Was the first thing you heard after you forced yourself out of Bucky's hand around your throat fantasies. It probably wasn't the best idea, but seeing Bucky frustrated and annoyed by your incompetence made you feel things. And you wanted more.

"Whatever you want, Sergeant." You smirked, walking past him towards the building. His smell punched you in the face, making your walls clench around nothing. Fuck. Your self-control was harder to put in check. You were sure in a few minutes it'd be non-existent.

"Whatever is your problem today," you heard him behind you. You didn't look at him, focusing on keeping a steady pace towards the building so you could finish the job, get home where you could fuck yourself to oblivion. No one, but your fingers were currently available. And even they couldn't sometimes do the job you needed. But you knew whose would.

"I'm talking to you." Your heart dropped when his hand landed on your shoulder. Your skin got warmer again, and the pulse between your legs was impossible to ignore. You didn't know if you wanted to kill him or fuck him.

Ideally, both.

Turning around, you found the strength to twist his arm, finding out it was his human one, making it easier to push him back. He looked so taken back that it was amusing. But not amusing enough to stop the aching of your cunt.

"Touch me again," and I won't answer for the consequences. You wanted to add. But you didn't. Instead, you stared back at him, praying to god you'd drop dead or something would happen to stop the throbbing pain. You wanted to push your pants down and do something about it, but Bucky's presence wouldn't let you. It would, seventy years ago.

God, the number of times he made you rub yourself in front of him, fuck yourself while he watched. Couldn't he do it now? You'd happily obey.

"You've been acting distant ever since morning," he said, taking a step closer. "I just wanna know what's wrong," he said, lowering his voice at the end. You were sure it was just the stupid plant making you see things, but Bucky's dark eyes were hard to miss. Or the sweat on his forehead. Or the way he clenched his jaw when his eyes dropped to your lips.

Your heart sank. Holy fuck.

You couldn't help but laugh. It was, after all, comical. You looked manic but that didn't bother you. You felt so many emotions at once that you struggled to choose one.

"What the hell are you doing," you heard his voice interrupt your laugh. You were out of your mind. Your legs weak and sweaty, your cunt covered in your wetness, your head filled with migraine, skin on fire, and thoughts surrounding only one thing. And now, cherry on top, you realize Banner discovered an aphrodisiacs that make the super soldier serum its bitch. James motherfucking Barnes joined the lab rats of Banner's sex research.

[hyypnotix-writes]

Part 3

~ howdy! it's here ..I don't fully know how I feel about it, I might keep editing it at another point, but I've taken the piss with keeping you waiting for so long, I just want you to have something ~

~ it's long - I thought the other two were bad enough but this is longer than both of them combined. it's 26k words so I'm very sorry, and I do understand if that's too much for any of you ~

~ I don't know how to break it up to make it easier, or more fun, for you to read. I hope it doesn't put all of you off, but unless you're an incredibly quick reader ..you will probably have to read this one when you genuinely have nothing else to do ~

~ I'm not sure how well this chapter will go down, this could well be the end of our little journey together ~

~ I've had a lot of fun writing for all of you if it is, despite me stressing myself out with it! you've all been very kind and lovely, and however you've enjoyed any part of my writing, I've really appreciated every interaction ~

~ whether you liked, reblogged, or sent me a little message - every single one of you has made me smile, so I really hope this doesn't disappoint any of you too much! ~

~ good luck! good bye xx ~

Part 1 Part 2

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Rain is absolutely not what you signed up for when you agreed to come to Barcelona with your sister. Travelling all the way to sunny Spain, and bringing the bloody British weather with you as you go? What a horrible little joke.  

You’re not going to be the sun-kissed envy of your friends if it stays like this, you’ll be going back to London even paler than you were when you left it.  

The rainfall dribbles down the outside of the window, opposite where you rest your forehead, and a mournful sigh escapes your lips as you look out at the abysmal sight of the city streets down below. You draw a smiley face with your finger, where your breath fogged up the glass, and you try to mirror the expression on your own face as you extract yourself from the pane and flop back down onto the bed with a very dramatic groan.  

It’s already been one of the longest mornings of your life, and it’s only just turned 10:00.  

Sleep eluded you once again last night. Every hour, on the hour, you watched the clock tick over. Seconds suspending themselves in the air, minutes moving like molasses, as you counted infinite sheep in your head. Time flies when you’re having fun, as they say, but boy does it drag its heels when you’re praying for it to soar.  

Despite your fun little belief that you might’ve finally been sleeping soundly last night, it didn’t actually come to fruition. It turns out that it’s quite difficult for someone to fall asleep after finding out that the woman they’re falling for has secretly been a famous sporting icon the whole time that they’ve known her. Who’d have thought? 

It’s still a little hard for you to wrap your head around. The fact that she’s a bit famous, and her celebrity status stems from football of all things. Even with detective skills as exceptional as yours, that possibility never crossed your mind.  

Exhaustion is starting to plague your body after so many restless nights, and the antisocial behaviour you’re demonstrating because of it, isn’t largely appreciated by your sister. Abandoning Em to go and have breakfast on your own, before she had chance to wake up and join you, wasn’t a deliberate act of cruelty from you, you genuinely thought you were doing her a favour by letting her have a lie in.  

You are on holiday together, though, so she didn’t fully enjoy waking up alone in your shared hotel room. She made that much abundantly clear to you, with the countless strongly worded text messages that you received as you awkwardly traipsed back upstairs to apologise to her.  

A silent and forceful barging into your shoulder was all that greeted you, as you returned to the room and she made her exit from it.  

It’s unfortunate. She’s in a pissy mood, the weather’s in a pissy state, and you have to go to a pissing football match later on this evening. What a cruel world it is that you’re living in.  

It’s very unnatural that your one saving grace of the day is the pissing football match that you have to attend. That being one of the highlights of your holiday, really won’t make much sense at all to any of your friends when you tell them about it.  

You stare longingly at your phone for a while, tapping your fingers over your torso as you wait for Em’s return from breakfast. You let out a soft sigh as you gaze up at the ceiling, before gently closing your eyes, in the futile hopes of having a quick nap. The darkness behind your eyelids allows your mind to wander all too freely. Which it very quickly does, to more thoughts of Alexia. The same way that it has done, since the very first moment that she so casually waltzed into your life.  

This morning, however, it’s not thoughts of confusion, that cloud your brain. Sexuality concerns and hopeless pining are far from the forefront of your mind. It’s excitement that envelops you, anticipation. The fact that you’ve found your impossible-to-find woman, and that she’s no longer impossible for you to find at all. She may very well be one of the easiest people to locate, in all of Barcelona, as it happens. Knowing that you get to see her, at least one more time again this evening, even if it’s only from a distance, is a promise that has an involuntary smile tugging at the corners of your lips, and your heart doing cartwheels inside of your chest.  

There’s the distinct feeling of potential that hangs in the air for tonight. You can’t pretend that you’re not feeling hopeful about seeing her a little bit more up-close-and-personal than just from your seat in the stands. You’d quite like to be able to congratulate her, if the scoreline goes in her favour.  

You pull the neck of Alexia’s sweatshirt up over your face, in an attempt to fully bring the possibilities to life in the playground of your imagination, and you let out another sigh as you rest your hand over your stomach.  

It really doesn’t smell enough like her anymore, but it still your favourite item of clothing, as it is still very much hers. It’s the most effective key for unlocking your memories with her, and you breathe it in deeply, as you let your thoughts of her consume you.  

You really are feeling desperately needy, you’ve already been in this position once this morning.  

It’s not a hunger that’s ever infiltrated your body and mind quite so fervidly. You’re not a particularly clingy person, you’re not usually so obsessive, or lustful. You’re certainly hot-blooded, and you know how to enjoy yourself, but there’s never normally this type of craving in you for another person.  

Having your mind be so fanatical about someone else really isn’t something that’s ever overcome you quite so powerfully. It’s a rare sort of desire in you, that only she’s been able to spark, and it’s proving very difficult to satiate it.  

Your hand wanders slightly, as she takes over your head, the tips of your fingers trailing the waistband of your shorts, before the excessively loud opening and closing of the hotel room door, abruptly halts you from getting too invested in your fantasies.  

You turn your attention to your sister, removing your fingers with an unfortunate twang, as the elastic hits back down your skin, and you slowly free your face as she obliviously trudges across the room.  

You offer up an apologetic smile for abandoning her earlier, as she places her coffee on the table, and, with a piece of toast dangling from her mouth, she smiles back at you, the power of a full stomach seemingly diluting her previous feelings of anger.  

Her smile quickly contorts into a mischievous little grin, and there’s a glint in her eye, as she pounces on the bed.  

“Are you good?” You chuckle, as she rummages next to you, but she doesn’t gift you with any verbal reply. It’s your phone that she’s interested in, you realise, and you hold out your hand, for her to return it to you. “Behave.” You warn her, but she only giggles at the unlocked screen and shakes her head at you.  

“Do you have a new girl crush?” She mocks, goading you as she waves the device in front of your face. “Big into Alexia Putellas, are we?” 

“I was just ..familiarising myself.” You tell her, shuffling yourself a little, as a soft pink hue rushes to your cheeks.  

��Is that what you’re calling it?” She scoffs. “You know, I also tend to search for someone’s back tattoos when I’m trying to memorise their face!” 

“I was— I ..can I have my phone back, please?” You sigh, giving up on any attempt at trying to defend yourself.  

You don’t need to defend yourself to her. You like Alexia’s tattoos, and simply wanting to see them again, is merely an appreciation of art. That’s entirely innocent enough. It wasn’t a perverse search; it didn’t come from a sinful place.  

The fact that it immediately triggered flashbacks to you tracing over all of them with your lips, really wasn’t exactly your fault. It was unintentional, an almost reflex response from you.  

Letting yourself get mildly carried away with remembering how Alexia had kissed along your own body and how her lips had this wonderfully curious tendency of just always roaming down. The little knot that tied itself in your stomach, and your breath hitching as you relived the eye contact that she made with you before she had your back arching under her.  

That’s all a little less innocent, maybe, but it still wasn’t deliberate. It couldn’t be helped; it was just an automatic reimagining of events.  

You’re allowed to do that, they’re your memories. It’s entirely permissible for you to take a little journey through them every once in a while. It’s been over a month for you, and you have some overdue frustrations. That’s not a crime, you’re not a pervy creep.  

“You have a real thing for Spanish women at the minute, huh?” Em recognises, pulling you from your dirty thoughts again as she drops your phone down onto your stomach and takes another bite of her breakfast.  

“Mhmm. I quite like her tattoos.” You tell her casually, and she smiles back at you with a raised eyebrow.  

“Whenever you’re ready for me to do your next one, let me know!” 

“Mm.” You mumble, as you feel the ink on your rib cage begin to sear under her stare.  

You really do like tattoos, but there’s a reason that you only have the one on you. Your distinct lack of body art probably doesn’t seem like the greatest advertisement for your sister’s abilities, but it’s your own indecisiveness, and aversion to needles, that’s stopped you from getting too many, not her deficiency of talent. Maybe you’re a little bit squeamish, but it really did hurt.  

“You’re a big baby.” She laughs at you as you rub at the side of your body, trying to relieve the faint burning of your skin, and she claps the remnants of toast crumbs from her hands onto the floor, as she lays next to you. “What do you fancy doing today?” She asks you. “I’m sorry about the shit weather, that’s kinda fucked with your tanning plans.” 

“It’s not really your fault, but I was going to ask for your help, actually. If you’re feeling a little guilty?” 

“Oh?” She turns her head, furrowing her brow at you, her interest piqued, and you let out a sigh as you swallow your pride.  

“I was hoping, maybe you’d help me learn some football things.” 

“Football things?” She scoffs, but you don’t let her mockery deter you, as you nod at her decidedly.  

“Mhmm.” 

The back of Em’s hand very quickly finds itself pressed against your forehead with a quiet little smack, and you scrunch up your face in confusion as she frowns down at you.  

“What on earth are you doing?” 

“Are you feeling okay?” 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, yes!” You sigh, pushing her arm away from you to stop her from checking your temperature. “I’d just like to know some things. Stop me from going into the match so blind.” 

She narrows her eyes, considering you for a moment. “What do you want to know?” She asks, and you wince at the freedom she’s granted you.  

“Just like ..players’ names, probably? I think that’d be helpful. Maybe some basic rules.” You shrug.  

She continues frowning at you, and you buckle a little under the intensity of her stare.  

“What?” 

“You’ve never cared before..” she reminds you, the suspicion in her eyes only increasing, as you release a small huff through your nose.  

“That’s not really true..” You try to start arguing, but it’s a completely pointless activity, you’re both far too aware that you’re completely lying.

Football has existed for your entire life, and you’ve been interested in it, a grand total, of zero times, before now. You find out that it’s Alexia’s favourite thing to do, and you suddenly want to know everything you can about it. It's entirely tragic of you, and it's too convoluted of a confession to share with your sister right now. She was useless enough when you admitted to a single kiss with another woman, trying to explain all of this mayhem would absolutely break her little brain.

“I’ve definitely cheered with you a couple of times!” You offer and she shakes her head, laughing loudly at you.  

“No no no!” She states. “Quietly saying ‘woo team’ when I tell you someone’s scored, is not cheering with me! I told you Rachel Daly scored once, and you still threw your fist in the air!” 

“What’s wrong with that?” 

“She plays for Aston Villa!” She points out, smacking your shoulder, and you let out another tiny huff. “I could tell you that Emma Hayes had scored, and you wouldn’t question it.” 

“Why would that be weird, is she the goalkeeper?” 

“For fuck’s sake!” She sighs, scraping her hands down over her face. “She’s the manager.” 

Yikes. You really are an idiot.   

“Well.. okay..” you wince, “and that’s why I need your help.”  

“Why does it matter?” She asks. “This’ll be the only match you ever watch.” 

“Maybe, but I quite like the woman who gave me that shirt.” You admit, gazing over at it as you play with the hem of the sweatshirt you’re wearing. “I don’t want to let her down by knowing nothing.” 

“Will she be there today?” 

“Mhmm.” 

Em contemplates for a moment, and you know that look in her eyes, she’s about to cave in. You sit up on the bed, readying yourself to deliver the final blow to her composure.  

“Please?” You say, pouting with a perfectly rehearsed, quivering bottom lip. 

“Nooo! Not the puppy dog eyes.” She groans, averting her gaze from you to try and stay strong. You don’t back down, and she lets out a pathetic cry of defeat when she catches your expression again.  

“There’s not much else for us to do until this rain stops.” You point out innocently.  

“That’s not true! There’s that aquarium you wanted to go to?” 

It’s a valid point from her, but rather incredibly, it’s no longer as appealing an option to you. You want to embrace football today. It’s important to Alexia, and she’s becoming important to you. As such, football ..is also important ..to ..well, no. Let’s not push it. She isn’t your girlfriend; you don’t need to be football’s number one fan just yet. Football will be tolerated by you, until further notice.  

You plead to your sister again, adding a small sniffle after your words for extra impact, and her resolve is positively crumbling in front of you.  

“You’re really serious, you want to learn about football?” 

“Mhmm!” You grin, excitedly crossing your legs, to fully show that you mean business. “Please!” 

“Fine.” She chuckles, rolling her eyes at your childish little excitement.  

“Thank you!” You grab her head to place a kiss to the top of it, and she quickly pushes you off of her. “I’d just like to know enough, though.” You clarify, before she starts getting too carried away with her lesson planning. “Just enough to stop me from looking like a fool.” 

“Well, steady on.” She snorts, with a roll of her eyes as she reaches for her sketch pad from the nightstand. “We’ve only got a day!” 

There’s a lot of information for you to learn it turns out, and you really hope Alexia’s worth all of this relentless studying you’ve subjected yourself to.  

It isn’t just her teammates that you end up memorising. Em also makes sure to teach you some footballing fundamentals, what ‘being offside’ really means, how the Champions League works, and she takes a great twisted pleasure in letting you know that tonight’s game of all games, could go to extra time and penalties, if no side is able to score more sodding goals than the other.  

You’re definitely being tested. 90 minutes is all that you signed up for when you agreed to watch the football, not a possible 120 with the looming threat of a penalty shootout attached to it. It’s entirely far too much. Why the hell is this Alexia’s favourite thing to do? Why are you still so into her? This is unbearable.  

It proves a little hard for you to keep concentrating on all of the facts that your sister keeps throwing at you, but she very quickly realises, that letting you watch some of Alexia’s highlights at irregular intervals, keeps you from getting too bored with everything else.

  

It quite amusing to you, to see Alexia wearing the captain’s armband, if you can believe. This nightclub nuisance, taking on a leadership role? That doesn’t seem right at all.  

Club captain, best on the team, best in the world? Turns out, it’s you that has the impeccable taste in women.  

She’s very sexy in her little football kit and watching her kick a ball around is surprisingly entertaining. She’s also very good, even you can see that, and the fact that she’ll occasionally lift her shirt when she’s a little frustrated with herself? Well, replaying that in slow motion is entirely fine and acceptable.  

There’s no real heterosexual explanation for your enjoyment of it, but you can pretend it’s merely an appreciation of fitness for you to keep pausing all of the videos and zooming in on her body.  

It’s not something that you ask to learn about, but Em can’t help mentioning all of Alexia’s achievements to you. It’s very fun to find out about everything, and there’s a genuine sense of pride in you for all of her plentiful accolades.  

It does feel a little misplaced, perhaps. You probably still don’t know her well enough to be just as proud of her as you are, you’ve certainly not known her long enough to be quite so pleased for her.  

It’s also slightly daunting, maybe, realising how decorated she is. Finding out about her FIFA’s best awards, the World Cup, her consecutive Ballon d’Ors.  

This is a very highly celebrated woman that you’ve been mingling with.   

She’s widely regarded as the greatest women’s player, of all time. It’s not just your sister that’s been saying it, Alexia’s been awarded for it, on the television, in front of the whole world. There’s a mural of her in Barcelona, a viewpoint that’s been named after her, and it turns out, that there’s a fairly huge amount of people that really enjoy calling her La bloody Reina. She’s revered by these people, almost worshipped.  

You’re not letting it get to you too much. Yes, she’s widely adored, she’s won pretty much every single award it’s possible for her to achieve, and she’s only just turned 30. She’s famous and well-loved and you’re just a little nobody from London, but you’re not letting that get to you too much.   

That probably wouldn’t be very wise. That would bring questions into your head, and make you start doubting yourself. That’s not a fun thing for you to do. Why would you do that?   

Don’t do that, you’ll start spiralling. It doesn’t take much to get you overthinking. You spent the past month questioning your sexuality because of one single night with another woman. Don’t let yourself worry about it, that won’t end very well for you. Don’t let her success in her career start clouding who she is to you. She’s still just the confusing lime woman, at the end of the day.   

Don’t start thinking of her as Barcelona’s sweetheart, Alexia Putellas. That’s putting her on a pedestal that you’ll never be able to reach her on up there. That’s very careless of you, to leave her up there on it without you sitting next to her, don’t do that. She’s just a woman. A very beautiful and successful woman. That’s fine, there’s lots of them about. Calm down.  

The rain finally relents a few hours before the big match, and while it doesn’t really grant you a huge amount of time to do anything too adventurous, it is a relief to realise that you won’t be getting completely drenched as you watch Alexia play.  

Em makes a rather hasty escape to the beach, as soon as the sun makes its long-awaited appearance. She hasn’t enjoyed your little study session quite as much as you have. You really just can’t win with this woman. She’s grumpy when you hate football, she’s grumpy when you’re a fan of it. She really just loves being grumpy with everything.  

Your constant refusal to be taught anything about the Chelsea players probably didn’t help you to keep her happy, though. Your insistence that Barcelona is the far superior team, didn’t go down very well with her either. Your new ‘girl crush’ on Alexia Putellas was something she began to find really irritating. You were almost actively trying to wind her up, actually. Maybe you did deserve her abandonment, looking back. You were lucky the rain kept her about for as long as it did.  

She didn’t ask if you wanted to join her at the beach, but you’d have decided to stay where you are anyway. Making sure you really have learnt enough for tonight, is your number one priority at the moment. Quizzing yourself and rewatching a few more compilation videos, is far more important to you than the city around you. The tan you actually came out to Spain for really is taking a hit today, but you can enjoy Barcelona a bit more tomorrow.  

You’re having a small dilemma in the hotel bathroom, as you’re getting yourself ready for the game. It’s an escalating concern for you, and one that your sister is growing increasingly frustrated with you for. You’re going to be late to the match if you don’t start getting a move on.       

Em barges into the bathroom, startling you as you study yourself in the mirror, and you narrow your eyes at her reflection as she stands in the doorway, staring at you.      

“What’s taking you so long?” She asks, with a very clear tone of exasperation.       

“I’m debating.” You tell her thoughtfully, ignoring her choice of intonation completely, by offering her an innocent little smile, as she lets out a very long and loud groan behind you.       

“Of course, you are.” She mutters, and she leans against the doorframe, preparing herself for you to begin your impending little spiel.       

“Right. So, I want to have the whole shirt on display.” You begin, gesturing down the front of your body and tapping your fingers to the lettering across your back.  

“Of course, you do.”      

“Right. So, I’m thinking, hair up,” you explain, demonstrating your vision as you carefully scrape your hair up into a ponytail, before narrowing your eyes at your sister again, to see if she can also see the problem with your plan, “buuut..”     

“Is that a love bite?!” She exclaims, rushing towards you and tugging at your shirt collar to examine the light bruising on your neck.       

“Ex-actly!” You sigh in defeat, letting your hair cascade back down as you grab your makeup bag again, to have another go at concealing the little gift that Alexia left on you yesterday. “I knew I hadn’t done a good enough job with it.”      

“How did you get a love bite?!” She asks, still clearly shocked by your rather tame, levels of promiscuity, as she pushes you away from her in disgust.   

“The usual way.”       

“A man sucked on your neck?”      

“Is that how you usually get your love bites?”       

She pulls an immature face at you and flips you off in the mirror. “I’m 24!” She says, indignant. “I haven’t had a love bite in years!”      

“Well, that’s very sad and tragic of you.” You tell her with a sympathetic pout. “I can only apologise that you’re so prudish and boring, I hope you’re able to recover from that soon!”      

“You’re in a very annoying mood.” She recognises with a sigh, frowning at your reflection as you carry on with your camouflage attempt. “We’ve only been here a day! I thought I was supposed to be the slutty sibling!”      

“You are the slutty sibling.” You remind her with a chuckle. “You were in a relationship just last week, and I’ve already had to make breakfast for three different girls since you broke up!”      

She smiles at you, very proudly, because she’s very very gross, and has absolutely no shame in it.       

“It’s no wonder you looked so happy last night, then.” She says, carefully inspecting your neck for you. “That’s covered it, you’re fine.”      

“Mm. Thank you very kindly!” You tell her, giving her a great big kiss on the cheek for her assistance, that she very quickly rubs back off again.       

“Be less annoying!” She begs.       

“I will not be making any promises!” You warn her, smiling widely as you tie your hair up and give yourself another once over. “How are we looking?” You ask, giving her a quick twirl.       

“Traitorous.” She grumbles.  

“Perfect!” You squeal, excitedly grabbing her hand and pulling her out of the hotel room with you.  

Your enthusiasm doesn’t die out at all, as you clamber into the taxi with your sister, and, as luck would have it, your driver is an even bigger culer than you are. You’re able to have a pretty in-depth conversation with him, what with all of the new knowledge that you’ve so recently acquired, and Em’s just ecstatic for the pair of you.

It isn’t a long drive from the hotel to the stadium, but you do clearly make quite the impression on the driver, as you end up having to reject, with as much politeness as possible, his invitation of a date for after the game.  

You’re really hoping to have other plans tonight, with some much-preferred female company.      

“He’s not ugly.” Em informs you quietly as you get out of the car, and she certainly isn’t wrong.  

‘Not ugly’ is just about as big a compliment as Em will ever give, regarding a man. So, you can rest assured that he is actually a very good-looking gentleman.  She narrows her eyes at you suspiciously as you close the door to the vehicle, and you furrow your brow back at her.  

“What?”     

“You can agree to go out with him tonight, you don’t need to look after me.”      

You shake your head at her, with a mild grimace, muttering out an ‘mm’, as your only offering of an explanation for your lack of interest in him. “No doubt you’ll be going home with someone else after the match?” You check, trying to switch the focus back to her.  

“Naturally.” She winks. “It’s been an unsuccessful holiday otherwise!”     

There's still an unfortunate level of determination in your sister to get you a date for tonight, and you have to really insist, that you simply don’t want the driver’s number. She eventually reluctantly agrees to let him take off, giving him an apologetic nod as he rolls up the window, and you give her an uncomfortable smile as she turns her attention back to you.  

“I really think you should be getting back on the horse.” She encourages, still eyeing you with suspicion as you start the short walk to the stadium. “You can’t waste your life pining after Jamie forever.”      

“I’m really not doing that.” You tell her with a sigh. “I just didn’t want to go out on a date with him.”      

“Do you already have plans with hickey-man?” She giggles.  

“Please don’t call them that,” you chuckle, “and no ..not technically.”      

“But that’s who you’re hoping to find again?”      

“Mhmm.” You mumble, trying to stifle the smile that’s pulling at your lips.  

“Is he nice?”      

“Mhmm.”      

“Is he attractive?”      

“Mhmm.”      

“Do you like him?” She asks, wiggling her eyebrows at you.      

“..Mhmm.” You reply again, and your slightly nervous smile fully takes over your face.  

“Oh ..you really like him. After just one love bite?” She questions, narrowing her eyes at you again. “You don’t usually fall so quickly.” She tells you, and you can only shrug at the suggestive tone to her voice.      

“I don’t really know what you want me to say to that?”      

“I just ..want you to be careful.” She explains. “I don’t want you getting hurt again.”      

“You were just trying to bag me a date with him?”      

“Yeah, but as a one-night thing.” She clarifies. “Falling in love with a random Spanish man isn’t the best way of getting over your ex.”      

“I’m not in love with them, and I’m not ..really still trying to get over Jamie.”      

“Hm. Good. He was a prat.” She reminds you with a rather disgusted looking frown at the memory of him.    

“Thanks, Em.”   

“Ugly cheating bast—”     

“Okay, Em. Enough.”     

“But he was an ugly cheating bas—“ 

“Enough!” 

“Sorry. He was a horrible dickhead, though.” 

“I know.” You sigh. “I get it, thanks.” 

“He still gets to you?” She realises, noticing that your hands have balled themselves into tight fists, and your stomach turns slightly as you shrug your shoulders at her.  

“A little.” You admit, as a less exciting reimagining of events begins to torment your brain. “I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with him, only to find out he’d been sleeping around for two years.” 

“Two years?” She asks, eyes going wide, and you kick yourself for saying too much.  

“I thought I already told you that.” 

“No ..you told me he’d been with a few women. Two fucking years?” 

“Please don’t do the maths, you’ll hate him even more.” 

You attempt to walk away, already having had enough of the conversation, but you don’t get very far.  

“You are joking.” She says, grabbing your arm to stop your escape attempt. “He cheated on you, because Mum died?”      

“Not because Mum died, you idiot. Even he wouldn’t be that foul.”     

“But it’s linked?”     

“Enough, please.”   

“No. What the fuck, Y/N?”      

“That’s enough, okay. I just want to enjoy the match. We can talk about it later.”     

“We can talk about it now! I have the tickets,” she reminds you, with a very clear anger brewing in her, “you’re not getting in there without me! Why the fuck would he cheat on you aft—”     

“Because I didn’t really fancy having sex with him straight after.” You interrupt, in a hushed tone, trying to stop her from causing a scene. “I didn’t fancy having it for a while, he clearly had ..needs.”     

“Don’t justify it.”    

“I’m not ..but ..I understand why he did it. I practically pushed him into the arms of other women.”     

“That’s disgusting, Y/N. You can’t really be blaming yourself for it?”     

“Well ..I don’t know..” You mumble.   

“He cheated on you for two years, because you didn’t want to sleep with him for a bit, and you think that’s okay?”  

“That’s not what I said. I just ..get it.”   

You turn away from her again, to carry on with the walk and she hurries after to you to keep in step, not really content in letting this godforsaken conversation die out just yet.  

“That’s really the excuse he used?” She asks.   

“That’s why it started, apparently. There was obviously ..something else, for him to want to carry on doing it.” You admit, fidgeting with your fingers uncomfortably as you start thinking. “Maybe I was ..missing something that he liked or ..not doing something he wanted me to. I—” you let out a sigh, shaking your head, “..it really doesn’t matter, okay? Please, that’s enough. I honestly haven’t been thinking about him, I don’t want to start again now.”     

“I’m sorry.” She tells you, with a clear look of remorse, and you give her a light nod with a tight-lipped smile in an attempt to ease her guilt.  

You carry on your walk for only a few paces before realising Em is no longer travelling with you, and you turn back to find her staring at her feet. “What are you doing?” You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose between your fingers and thumb.  

She taps her toes to the ground a few times, before lifting her head and approaching you with a real sense of purpose. “Here,” she says, handing you a small piece of paper, “in case you can’t find hickey-man.” She tells you, and you do let yourself chuckle a little at Alexia’s unfortunate new nickname as you unfurl the note.     

“You got his number for me? I really don’t need this.” You sigh. You hold the paper out to return to her, but she pushes it back to you.   

“I think you do.” She tells you earnestly. “I don’t think it’s good for you to keep getting hung up on people. First Italian-man, now hickey-man. You were even working yourself up about one kiss with that Spanish woman.” She rolls her eyes at you, before giving you a sincere look of concern. “I know you fall hard, but you don’t usually fall fast. It's weird, and it’s not like you.” She explains, placing her hands on your arms, trying to get you to listen to her better. “I think you should have a proper meaningless night with someone.” She suggests with a shrug “He’s not ugly, and you’re not interested. That’s perfect one-night stand material! You're welcome!”     

“Fine ..thanks.” You mutter, giving her a little nod in defeat as you stare at the number in your hand.  

A meaningless night with a stranger really isn’t what you’re after, but you’re not about to fight her on it now. It’s not an ideal conversation to have just had, really. Your sister isn’t exactly calculated enough to have done it deliberately, she’s not trying to upset you because your footballing-happiness was winding her up too much.  

It’s frustrating from her, but she’s genuinely concerned about you, and maybe she has a reason to be. Maybe you have been ignoring some things about yourself, refusing to confront a few little issues that are bubbling under the surface.  

The ending of your relationship isn’t super ancient history, and you were with him for an unfortunately excessive amount of time. Meaningless hookups were exactly what you were preparing yourself for before Alexia ended up being your first one and ruining the rest of your plans.  

You do know that you’re not letting yourself get hung up over three separate people, though. Italian-man, hickey-man and Spanish-woman are all one person, and letting yourself get so hung up on Alexia as quickly as you are, is fine. Probably. That’s not really a cause for concern.  

Right? 

Of course, you’ve still spent less than 24 hours with her, there’s probably still lots of things you don’t know about each other. You have shared some pretty intimate details about yourselves together already, though, and she doesn’t feel like a rebound, as such. That would be grotesquely underselling the connection between you both.  

She is a woman, which is still new to you, and you really don’t usually fall so quickly for people. It took that bellend over six months to finally wear you down for a date. All Alexia needed to do was hold out a lime for you, to get herself wedged inside of your head.  

Don’t let yourself think about it too hard, you’ll do yourself a mischief. You’re just here to watch some football. You’re here to watch the girl you like, play a bit of football.  

Let’s not overthink, it isn’t good for you. It will only lead to questions and concerns, and that’s not what you need right now. Let’s have fun! 

The atmosphere around the stadium is quite the riot, and it’s very effective in distracting you. There’s flares being let off, the sound of trumpets and drums, there’s colourful smoke everywhere, the most enormous flags you’ve ever seen in your life. It’s like a little carnival, and it’s invigorating, letting yourself get swept up in the excitement of it all.  

You receive a tremendous amount of friendly looks, solely because of the badge over your heart and the name proudly on display on your back and noticing that your sister isn’t shown the same courtesy for wearing her Chelsea shirt, really only adds to your enjoyment of the occasion.  

Em drags you through the large flock of fans, trying to make sure that you don’t get separated from each other on your way into the stadium, and you keep offering up apologies on her behalf, as she carelessly mows people down for you. She is quite the woman on a mission.   

You opt to keep your head down, a little embarrassed by your sister’s rudeness, but even as you make an effort to avoid making eye contact with all of the disgruntled supporters that she keeps barging through, there is one thing that you do struggle to avoid seeing, with some of the Barcelona fans.    

An overwhelmingly impressive amount of them, also have ‘ALEXIA’ on their shirts.    

This doesn’t come as a complete shock to you. She is the best player on the team, after all. There is something about seeing her name plastered over quite so many strangers’ backs, however, that has sent your heart racing.    

This turnout of people is undoubtedly nothing compared to the millions of followers that you found out she has on Instagram yesterday, but it’s a very different feeling, seeing her fame condensed into a little figure on social media, than it is, to actually seeing so many of them in person. It’s much harder for you to ignore the countless amount of admirers that she has, when you keep physically bumping into all of them.   

“Are you good?” Em asks, as you find yourself frozen in the crowd, staring at the back of another person’s shirt.   

“Hm? Yeah, sorry.” You mutter, giving your head a shake, before letting yourself get dragged along again. “She’s very ..popular.”    

“Putellas?” She checks, and you can only nod back at her, still a little dumbfounded by it all. “Well, yeah. Obviously!” She snickers. “Come on!”   

Maybe it’s pride that you’re feeling. Knowing you’ve been spending a bit of time with someone so well-liked. That’s very nice for you, that’s entirely enjoyable and fun. It doesn’t need to be anything other than that. What good would that do for you?  

Perhaps there's a slight nervous tension in your stomach, at seeing her name absolutely everywhere. That’s probably understandable and fine. You knew she was famous, but that’s still a little confounding to actually play witness to. No one’s going to hold that against you, it’s okay to be a little overwhelmed by it all.   

It’s a new reality for you. It makes sense that that would be accompanied with a new feeling too. Anxiety isn’t something that’s really presented itself to you when thinking of Alexia before now. Of course it isn't, why would it have been?   

Picturing little scenarios with her in your mind was fun, it was silly. It didn’t really mean anything when you were never going to find her again. You didn’t need to go putting doubts about yourself in imaginary-Alexia’s head, that wouldn’t keep things very fun and silly at all.   

There are a few doubts about yourself in your own head now, perhaps. Seeing as you have found her again, you’re falling for her, and she’s clearly not the little nobody that you thought you’d entangled yourself with, but that’s probably fine. It’ll be a temporary thing. Let’s not worry about it right this second. Let’s just enjoy the game instead!  

It really isn’t wise for you to start stewing on things. You really will start spiralling.   

How could you not?   

If you start letting yourself think too hard about all the things that you were lacking, and what you simply couldn’t offer to keep a pathetic pig of a man satisfied, and you really start allowing yourself to question why you weren’t good enough for him, that isn’t going to put you in a very good mindset when seeing all these fans that Alexia has.   

Her supporters aren’t limited to just little kids or grown men. There’s a lot of women here, also sporting her name. It isn’t necessarily the case that all of these women are gay, that’s not really how watching women’s football works. She can have straight women being her fans too.   

Some of them are probably gay, though, aren’t they? Lots of the ones that are gay, with her name on them, might have a little crush on her. It’s very likely that absolutely none of them will have had to do research all day to make sure that they knew what was going on this evening. All of them will have already known everything. They’ll be genuinely into football, genuine fans of Alexia.   

Gorgeous, confidently gay, and really into football. Those are the women that surround you right now. That’s fine. What’s wrong with that?  

Why are you letting yourself worry? Why are you letting them get to you? Because they make more sense for her? Because they’re better for her? Because you’re not a fan of football?   

Alexia already knows that, she didn’t walk out on you because of it. 

She did giggle a few times at your idiocy, though, didn’t she? So, she probably did think you were a little foolish. She would presumably think it was a bit lame of you, to have spent quite so much time studying for a football match. Who else has ever had to do that? You really probably are the only one. That is a bit embarrassing. Quite pathetic of you.   

Damn.   

What a loser, you are.   

Shit.   

Maybe you should let it get to you. Maybe you’ve let yourself get carried away. Maybe you’re having a psychotic break. You’re letting yourself fall for a woman. A Spanish woman. A famous Spanish woman. A famous Spanish woman who plays football professionally, for crying out loud! Look at all of these beautiful lesbian fans that she has here. What the hell do you think you’re playing at?   

You? A little nobody from London, who couldn’t even keep an ugly bastard of a man happy? If you weren’t even able to manage to do that, how could you possibly hope to be good enough, for two-time Ballon d’Or recipient, current Champions League and World Cup winner, Barcelona’s sweetheart, Alexia Putellas?   

That doesn’t seem very likely at all, does it? You being the soulmate of this ethereal goddess of a woman? Behave yourself. You really are delusional.   

Maybe that’s why she wanted you here, to laugh at you. Point and laugh at you with all of her football friends.   

Just go home now. Pretend that you’re ill. You do look a little ill. You’ve let yourself spiral, haven’t you? I did warn you about doing that. Now look at the state of you. This is very tragic.  

 

“Mate, what are you doing?” Em asks, as you once again find yourself paralysed, staring at yet another stranger’s shirt.    

“I just ..I don’t feel well.” You mumble.    

“Noo. Please don’t do that!” She begs, all too aware of what your next statement is going to be. “We’re here now!” She reminds you, bouncing on her toes. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought up that wanker, but please, we can still enjoy this together. You’ve been so excited about it all day.” She gives you a very sad pout, lightly pulling on your arm, trying to encourage you to keep following her.   

You really have been excited all day. It would be a shame to let your intrusive thoughts ruin it for you. You don’t want to let that bastard keep dictating all of the fun you’re allowed to have. You’re just here to enjoy some football.  

Woo!  

“Sorry. I just—” You pause, giving your head another shake as you try to catch your breath. “She’s just ..very popular.” You reiterate, gesturing to the stranger’s back with your thumb.   

“Did you think you’d be the only one here wearing her name?” She snorts. “I told you the woman who gave it to you was basic.”  

Your mind is still racing a little as you follow your sister out towards the stands. The atmosphere is even more intense inside of the stadium, and you try to let yourself embrace it all again, but it is mildly dizzying this time around.  

Em has nabbed you some pretty decent seats to be fair to her, though. One thing about your sister, she is absolutely going to treat herself and overspend on her interests without a care in the world. It’s something you often advise against her doing, it's not the wisest thing for her to do with her money. You couldn’t really be more grateful for it right now, though, when you’re practically sitting front row.  

Both teams are still out warming up, and you let your eyes roam the Barcelona side for a moment. You finally notice Alexia amongst all of the chaos, and you immediately stop noticing anything else. Your mind goes completely blank, just at the mere sight of her.  

She really does calm you right down, truly nothing else matters when she’s around you. That’s really very lovely. It’s a good thing you don’t live in two separate countries from each other. Imagine the way your mind would implode if you couldn’t just look at her all the time to stop your mental deterioration.. 

You watch Alexia, as she completes her runs, does some drills, begins to stretch. It’s like she’s the only one out there on the field, working in slow motion, putting on a show, just for you. There’s absolutely no reason for it to be as sexy as it is, she’s literally just warming up, but you find yourself, jaw clenched, as you observe her movements.   

She pauses for a drink break, and you remain mesmerised as she squeezes a jet of water into her mouth and pours a little extra over her face. You bite down on your bottom lip as you follow the beads of liquid rolling down her neck, slowly travelling under her shirt, and your breath hitches, as you allow yourself to remember exactly what it is that she’s concealing under her shirt. You can picture that body perfectly; you’ve thought of little else aside from it for over a month.  

She’s all hot, and sweaty, and— please! Pull yourself together! You’re in public, and you’re practically drooling. Do you remember when you were straight? Straight straight straight. Try channeling a bit more of that, perhaps. You’ll be an absolute puddle right there in your seat, otherwise.  

“There’s your one.” Your sister reminds you, making you jump as she nudges you and gestures down across to the pitch, once again pulling you away from your redacted thoughts.   

“Oh yeah! Thanks.” You tell her, feigning surprise, as you hide the small smile on your face, and swallow down on your arousal. You subtly wipe at the corners of your mouth with the back of your finger, just in case a bit of drool really had started falling, and you nod to your sister in acknowledgment. “She really is quite ..pretty.” You say pointedly, paying close attention to your sister’s thoughts and feelings on the matter.   

It probably wouldn’t be ideal if your sister showed an interest. She has a rather troubling talent with the ladies, and you’re not too sure you’d rate your chances going up against her, where another woman’s concerned.  

It really isn’t something you’ve ever had to think about before. There was never any chance of you two being into the same person until Alexia flicked a switch inside of your head. It was only a joke when she mentioned it in the café, but you can’t pretend it hasn’t niggled in the back of your mind a little.  

If you do end up introducing them, and they really hit it off? They almost certainly have more in common than you and Alexia do. They could talk for days about football together; they both have multiple tattoos where you only have a single measly little thing on your ribs. They’re both definitely gay, which is far more than you can say about yourself.  

That’s three strikes right there, isn’t it? That’s not very good.  

That’s all you get.  

You’re already out of the race.  

You’ll introduce them, they’ll fall in love, get married, have kids, and you’re left pining after your sister’s wife for the rest of eternity. Even the sweet release of death wouldn’t save you from a heartache that powerful. That’s an eternal pain. It’s permanent, infinite. A truly deathless agony that’ll haunt you till the very end of time itself.  

Good grief! 

What’s going on with you? You’re being very dramatic and sad suddenly. This really isn’t like you. You’ve only met this woman twice. Snap out of it! 

“Sure, I guess.” Em shrugs, not at all taken in by Alexia’s beauty. She really does have very questionable taste in women. You really should have known that already, that isn’t new information to you. You desperately need to calm down, you’re getting yourself into a really bad place.  

“Which one’s that?” She asks you, testing your knowledge as she points to another player on the field.   

“Ona Batlle.” You tell her confidently, shaking your worries from your head as you try to focus on what really matters right now. “Defender. Used to play for United.”  

“Very good,” she commends, genuinely quite impressed with the results of your last-minute cramming, “and that?”  

“María León. Mapi. Also, a defender. Didn’t go to the World Cup.”  

“Mhmm! And that?”  

“Not a bloody clue!”  

“For fuck’s sake.” She grumbles.   

“What? She’s one of yours,” you point out, grinning, “I don’t give a shit about the Chelsea players!”  

“You really are a twat.” She tells you, smacking your shoulder, before she crosses her arms and leans back into her seat. “Do you remember how the game works?” She asks you, rather condescendingly. “Do you need me to go through it all again for you?”  

“No, thank you.” You reassure her, innocently. “I think I’ve got it all memorised ..it’s just the best of three sets in the women’s game, right?”  

“Twat.” Em calls you again, and you chuckle to yourself, relaxing back down into your own seat, entirely satisfied with just how incredibly easy she is to wind up.  

You return your attention back to Alexia’s warmup routine, making sure to not keep letting your mind run wild with more dirty thoughts. It has been over a month for you, but even your sister’s showing a bit more decorum with her ogling of Sam Kerr. You really can control yourself better than this, you are not an animal.  

Alexia pauses her drills to have another sexy little drink, and you notice her surveying the crowd as she downs her water. She does a very careful examination of the away section, and she stops to stare, as soon as she finds you.  

You’re once again the only two people in the whole vicinity, as her eyes meet yours, and a bashful smile takes over her face.  

Whatever concerns you might be battling with, you can definitely be certain, that this woman wants you here today, and she isn’t at all discreet about how happy she is to see that you’ve come, and that you’re wearing her shirt.  

She mouths a little ‘hi’ to you, and it’s impossible for you not to smile at her, when your heart’s jumping up inside of your chest. You mouth back a ‘hi’ followed by a ‘wow’, with a slight wince, as you dramatically flit your eyes around your surroundings, and she bites at her lip, with a clear sense of awkwardness.  

‘I’m sorry.’ She tells you silently, but you shake your head at her with a furrowed brow.  

‘Don’t be daft, good luck!’ you offer with a smile, and a subtle thumbs up. You tap proudly at the badge on your chest, and Alexia’s smile only grows as she watches you.  

She responds with a nod, a ‘gracias’ and her own thumbs up, which clearly wasn’t as subtle as yours, as it didn’t go unnoticed by your sister.  

“Was that directed at you?” She asks, squinting at Alexia as she moves with the other players down towards the tunnel.   

“Hm? Looked like that, didn’t it?” 

“That’s quite cool.” She acknowledges. “She’ll probably think you got lost on the way in, sitting here with us. You don’t exactly blend in!”  

“No, that’s true.” You chuckle, tapping your hands down the red stripes on your torso. “Maybe she just felt bad for me, stuck here with you losers.”  

“Mm.” She grumbles, pulling a face at you. “That’s Sam Kerr!” She informs you excitedly, quickly moving on from your interaction, and focusing back on who she deems to be, the more important star of this evening’s show.   

“I know who Sam Kerr is,” you sigh, “I’m not an idiot. I’ve seen her poster on your wall.”  

“Mmmmmm.” She hums, gazing very dreamily at the striker as she makes her own way off of the pitch.   

“Oh, please.” You start, rolling your eyes at the state that she’s getting herself into. “Have some self-control, Em, we’re in public!”  

You really are a shameless little hypocrite.

  

Goosebumps spread all over your skin as the teams return to the pitch, and the Champions League anthem rings out around the stadium. You can feel the excitement really getting to you, as the hairs on your arms stand up on end.  

It’s very overwhelming. You couldn’t have cared less about this match yesterday morning, and now it’s the most important thing in the world to you.  

All for a girl, what has gotten into you?  

The game is highly contested right from the first whistle. With the first leg ending in a 0-0 draw, neither team is able to rely on aggregate to get themselves through, and you can feel the pressure that the players are under.  

Both sides are naturally desperate to win, though expectation is slightly higher for Barcelona, seeing as they won the whole thing last season.   

There’s a very mild sense of nervousness in you about the result. You’re not really sure how you’d go about consoling someone after a huge sporting defeat. You’ve never been very good at comforting Em when a football score has left her upset, and it’s probably far worse when you’re actually on the team that’s lost, and not just watching it through the television.  

You know exactly how Alexia would be able to cheer you up, and you’d be more than willing to try the same technique with her. She might not be as horned up as you clearly are, though. You may very well need to start drafting a proper commiserative speech for her, if the game does start running away from them. Sexual favours may simply not be enough.  

You do take some comfort in the fact that Barcelona haven’t lost to Chelsea before, and while you appreciate that nothing’s guaranteed in sports, Alexia’s very good, and you know for a fact that the rest of her teammates really aren’t too shabby either. There’s a reason that they’ve won this whole thing twice, and you’re letting the knowledge of that keep you from getting too worked up about it.  

Alexia’s the best in the world, and no best in the world is losing to bloody Chelsea, not today.  

Alexia’s incredible for you to watch when she plays, even when she only has possession for a second. She’s just a wizard on the ball, the way she reads the game so easily, how she seems to predict everyone’s movements. She’s always in control, unwaveringly calm, deliberate in her choices.  

She almost dances with the ball, and it’s impossible to deny how unbelievably gifted she is, as she weaves around her opponents. She has a very distinctive flair, for making it all look so effortless. It’s just incredibly sexy of her, and you find yourself wiping at the corners of your mouth again as you watch on, just in case.   

It’s not a skill that you’ve ever really appreciated in a person before. You’ve had boyfriends that played football in school, you watched your sister plenty of times when she was little, but you never really focused on them while they were actually playing.  

You’d cheer at the right moments, making the correct noises when you needed to, just following the rest of the crowd’s lead, mainly. You found it all a bit boring, really, it didn’t mean anything to you.   

Now, Alexia’s only casually passing the ball between herself and a few of her teammates, and you’re absolutely entranced by her, you couldn’t think of anything else you’d rather be watching. There’s a glow to her as she plays. She’s enthralling, captivating. You might be her number one fan.  

The match aside from Alexia’s performance, is far more tense than you’d care to admit. Both teams have plenty of attempts on goal, neither of them score. Every missed shot from Barcelona has you cursing under your breath, and every near goal from Chelsea has you covering your eyes like a child. It’s a little unbearable, you absolutely love it. It’s what sport’s all about.   

It’s a very unexpected reaction from you. The way your heart’s started palpitating, the slight tightness in your shoulders whenever a Chelsea player’s on the ball, the elation shooting through you every time Barcelona regains possession. It’s the skin around the nail of your thumb that suffers the most under your passion, as you nibble at it relentlessly, watching everything unfold with a high degree of intensity.   

You keep knocking your sister every time Alexia gets close to scoring, gripping at Em’s sleeve and tugging at her in anticipation. It’s hard to tell if it’s an excitable twitch, or if it’s stress-tapping of your foot, but every nerve in your body is on fire as you watch Alexia in her element. Em still can’t really understand your newly established avidity for the game, but she continually embraces it all with a light chuckle as she keeps telling you to “please, calm down.”   

The whistle blows for halftime and it’s still level at 0-0. You can barely contain yourself, letting out a huge breath that you weren’t fully aware you’d been holding in.   

“I can’t survive another half like that!” You warn Em, bashing your head against her shoulder. “I need a goal. Just one goal!” Your legs are bobbing up and down, as the adrenaline in you tries to find a way of escaping your body, and she rests her hand over them to calm you down.  

“Do you need a wee?” She asks, a little concerned at the mess you’re turning into, and you shake your head with a laugh.   

“No, I’m good, thanks! I just ..really want them to win.”  

“You’re really into it, aren’t you?” She chuckles.  

“Mhmm. Thank you for bringing me here.”  

“You’re welcome! I’m glad you decided to stay.” She tells you, with a proud smile on her face at finally winning you over on her favourite interest. “It’s a shame you’re rooting for the dark side, though. It’s weird that this is the team that speaks to you.”  

“Mm. I’m sorry about that.” You offer half-heartedly, pulling at the badge on your shirt to give it a kiss.  

“You’re such a traitor,” she tells you with a flick to your forehead, “Dad will be disgusted when I tell him.” 

 

The second half starts, and it’s much the same as the first. There’s more near misses, a few choice attempts on goal, and the game starts getting far sloppier as both sides get more desperate to score. There are some pretty ugly fouls, resulting in a few yellow cards being issued to both teams, and you’re suddenly far less concerned with winning, and far more worried about Alexia just making it out in one piece.  

“It’s quite brutal!” You point out to your sister, flinching as another Chelsea player goes tumbling to the ground.  

“Mm. You think she’d be more careful.” She tells you. She taps at the number on your shirt, and it sends an instant chill racing up the back of your neck.  

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You question, biting down hard on your thumb as you await her response.  

“She tore her ACL a couple years back, took her out of the Euros. She hardly played at all last season.” 

“Tore her ACL?” You ask, exhaling slowly as you make the connection in your head. “Would that be her knee?” 

“Mhmm.” 

“Shit.” Drops out of your mouth, as you bite your thumb a little too deeply, and you try to shake the stinging from your hand.  

It makes sense, that Em would choose to withhold this little titbit of information from you, you really are quite squeamish. If you’d known this game could turn into such a bloodbath, you’d have probably elected to stay home. 

Alexia had played it coy, when you traced your fingers over her scars that night. She wasn’t exactly uncomfortable with you asking her about them, but it still wasn’t something she was going to get into with you. You weren’t going to force the issue too hard, you’re not an idiot, but it had certainly piqued your interest. She really wasn’t forthcoming with any information about herself, and it quickly became apparent how talented she was at deflecting from your queries.  

It stopped being at the forefront of your mind completely, when she was otherwise so distracting with it. Her scars didn’t inhibit her at all when she was pressing her knee against you. It felt good, she seemed fine, who were you to question? 

“Should she be playing at all?” You ask flicking your thumb against your finger to try and weaken the pain shooting through it.  

“Sure! Lots of them do, you just think it’d freak ‘em out a bit more.” She tells you. “It’s amazing she still throws herself into it as much as she does, really.” 

“You don’t become the best by tapping out.” You recognise, and she excitedly nods her head at you.  

“No, exactly! Sometimes it happens again, though. Can be the exact same rupture, different tear, same leg. A few players have it happen to their other leg..” Em continues to give you a very unhelpful rundown of just how common this career-jeopardising injury seems to be, and an uncomfortable lump forms in your throat as she goes a little too deep into all of the details with it. “Are you okay?” She asks, cutting herself off at your obvious discomfort at her lecture, and she gently taps at your shoulder. “You’ve gone quite pale.” 

“I don’t like seeing people get hurt, you know that.” 

“She’ll be alright.” She reassures you, gesturing to the Chelsea player as she pulls herself back to her feet. “It’s just when a player gets stretchered off, really. That’s when you properly worry about them.” 

You suddenly find yourself, very stressed. 

It immediately feels like Alexia, in particular, has a target on her back as the game continues. Every time she gets on the ball, a Chelsea player comes flying in, rather aggressively, trying to win it back off of her. It’s a very violent onslaught, and it’s not one that you’re keen on watching.   

She spends most of the second half having to drag herself back to her feet, and you no longer feel like you can just blame it on the slightly wet grass, when there’s a menacing little Chelsea player hovering ominously over her every time she goes down to the ground.  

The game is still level as the clock starts running down the final few minutes, but any sense of relief that this torture is almost over, is immediately extinguished, as you remember that this specific game would have to go to extra time, and then penalties, if no one’s able to break the deadlock.   

Penalty shootouts, on their own, are usually just about the only thing you can tolerate in football, when you’re a neutral with zero stakes. It sounds like a nightmare now, however. Especially as it means you’d have to endure 30 extra minutes of the Chelsea players’ assault on Alexia.   

You really can’t take it. Your heart’s started thumping. You have a headache forming. Your fingers have turned to ice.  

You’re out of your seat as Alexia makes a beeline for the goal in the 87th minute. It’s an incredible scoring opportunity, she can’t miss.   

A Chelsea defender appears to the side of her, as if from nowhere as Alexia lines up her shot, and she’s brutally slid into, just outside of the area.   

You can hear the collision as it happens, it almost reverberates throughout the whole stadium. Life in the arena comes to a complete standstill, as everyone just watches it all unfold.   

Alexia goes down, and the world stops spinning, your heart stops beating, and time stands still.   

She stays down, and your body goes rigid, your blood runs cold, and you want to be sick.  

Get up. Please get up.  

Your sister grips on to your arm trying to comfort you, trying to tell you that it probably isn’t as bad as it looked, but your eyes don’t move from where Alexia lies on the floor, clutching her knee.   

Medics are rushed onto the pitch with a stretcher in hand, and you remain frozen in place.   

Please get up. Just get up.  

The defender is back on her feet only a minute after the tackle, and she’s shown a yellow card for her foul. You want to throttle the referee right there and then.  

“It should be a straight fucking red!” You shout, as you grip your hands together on the top of your head, trying to distract yourself from the burning in your eyes, and the new quiet ringing that’s started in your ears.   

You receive a couple of snide looks from the supporters surrounding you for your little outburst, and you can hear a few less-than-friendly words being bellowed out at you, but frankly, you don’t give a fuck.  

Just get up. Get up and walk off if you have to. Just get. up.  

You want to jump over the seats. Push every annoying, arsehole supporter in a Chelsea shirt right out of your way and invade the pitch to be with her. Your body’s screaming out at you to do something, anything, and you can’t. You’re useless to her.   

Just get up.  

Alexia looks to be in agony on the ground. A few of the Barcelona players are swarming the referee for her blatant incompetence. Even the other Chelsea players are a little amazed that they’ve gotten away with it, without going a player down.   

It was a dirty foul. Out of character, according to your sister. You don’t care. It could’ve been a complete accident by her, and you’re not fussed. It was reckless, it was filthy, and she should be off that goddamn pitch with some level of suspension at least.  

Get up. Please.  

Em tries to pull you back into your seat and you still don’t budge. You stand where you are, watching the small crowd on the pitch, as it slowly blocks Alexia from your view. You bite at the skin on your thumb, willing yourself to stay calm, willing Alexia to just get the fuck up.   

It feels like a lifetime waiting for things to happen, for any sign of development from the scene on the ground. You ultimately collapse back down into your chair, trying to catch your breath, trying to stop the world from swirling around you, trying to stop your brain from assuming the worst. You close your eyes, holding your face in your hands, blocking it all out.  

Get. Up.   

This isn’t really what you signed up for, is it? You wanted to watch the girl you like, play a little game of football. Possibly celebrate her winning, with some adult-fun-time. Not find out that she’s fairly recently had such a serious injury, and then watch her go crashing down to the ground, holding that specific body part. You can’t do anything about it. You can’t help. You’re stuck in place, watching it all happen right in front of you.  

This is torture. Maybe this is why you never let yourself get into football. Who is this fun for exactly? What’s the point in it all?  

What an unbelievably useless waste of your time. You were already in a bad enough place before the game kicked off and distracted you from it. Now it’s made it worse. This is terrible. You really should have just stayed home. Imagine coming all the way out to Spain and making yourself bloody ill with it. Jesus Christ.  

Please. Get up.  

After what feels like hours, the medics do start slowly dissipating and there’s a cautious ripple of applause around the stadium, because Alexia has gotten up, but not of her own accord. She’s being flanked by Mapi and Asisat, and she looks very unstable.  

They carefully remove themselves from under her arms, and she’s not very well balanced at all. She’s reluctant to put too much weight on her leg, she’s limping, and she’s still gripping onto Mapi for dear life, but she's not being stretchered off. She’s up, and you can breathe again.   

You watch on as she tests her strength, steadily gaining confidence that her knee isn’t going to give way beneath her, and she puts her hand up to Jonatan to indicate that she will not be getting subbed off. She gives her body a shake, looks over in your direction, and she nods to herself with a reinvigorated sense of determination.   

You don’t know if you’re completely turned on by her bold display of bravery, or if you want to give her a slap for being quite so carelessly audacious. She doesn’t need to play the hero; you’d rather she just sat it out.  

“What is she doing?” You mutter under your breath, shaking your head as Alexia waits to be let back into the game.  

“You don’t become the best by tapping out!” Em reminds you, with a smile, patting your shoulder reassuringly. Her entire demeanour is in stark contrast to the one that you’re currently displaying, and as comforting as she’s trying to be by rubbing at your arm, it isn’t very effective. “Are you sure you’re okay?” She asks. “You look really unwell.”  

“Mhmm.” Is all you’re able to mumble out, as your eyes lock onto Alexia on the sidelines.  

The free kick awarded for the foul is saved, and Alexia’s back on the pitch for the corner. You want to stop her. You want to swear at her. You can’t handle it. You need a drink.   

You grab at the neckline of your shirt and pull it up over the bottom half of your face. You’re very very stressed. Even the familiar smell of her on your top isn’t doing much to comfort you. She’s an idiot. She’s so unbelievably stupid. What the fuck?  

You watch the corner kick, as the ball goes sailing over the heads of everyone, before it connects with Alexia’s forehead and skims past the tips of the keeper’s fingers.   

The stadium erupts around you, and you’re back up off of your seat, letting out your own roar in celebration. Your eyes are absolutely stinging with tears, as you hold your forehead against your hands, and there’s more than a few snide looks at you from the supporters you’re buried in, given your lack of propriety about the situation.  

You’re getting called every colourful derogatory term under the sun for your rather ungodly little cheer, and still, you couldn’t care less. You let out a few huge breaths, trying to steady yourself, and despite her team now trailing in the final minutes, Em wraps her arms around you, giving you a shake, as she tries to get you to properly enjoy the moment.  

Alexia points up to the sky in celebration, and you can hear her name being gradually chanted around the stands. It catches in your ear, echoing in a crescendoing drone. It’s deafening, unrelenting, and you try to shake it back out of your head before it really starts getting too much for you.  

You know that there’s going to be a fair few minutes of added time with how many fouls the second half has had and given how long Alexia was just down for especially, but you can see how the life’s just been completely zapped from the Chelsea side. They’re not equalising today; the game is done.   

The whistle blows for full time at 1-0 and you finally slump back down into your seat. The stadium is going absolutely wild around you, and you just close your eyes to it, waiting for it all to die down.  

You can hear your sister trying to pull you out of your head, but you press your palms against your eyelids, trying to block everything out. Your body’s racking itself. There’s a sharp shortness to your breath, an uneven rapidity to your heartbeat. Your head’s burning up, and your eyes are stinging.  

You’re not really cut out for this, are you? It’s all gotten a bit much. You really are spiralling, look at the state of you. All this, because of one unfortunate, mistimed tackle? Because there’s a few extra people here that know Alexia’s name?   

Barcelona just won, Alexia just scored the winning goal, and you’re collapsing in on yourself. 

What would you have been like if they had just lost? If Alexia had been genuinely hurt? Not much good, clearly. Not very helpful.  

Alexia deserves someone better. Someone who doesn’t go into a panic in the stands whenever she hits the deck. Someone who isn’t unnerved by her celebrity status. Maybe someone, who isn’t questioning her identity, at the ripe old age, of 26.  

She deserves someone, who very much, isn’t you. 

It takes a few minutes for you to come back around, pulling yourself from your oppressive thoughts, and you can see colourful stars in your eyes as you finally relieve the pressure you were forcing against them. Em offers you some water, and you down it while she stares at you, her brow wrinkled with worry.   

“Are you okay?”  

“Mhmm. I’m fine, sorry.”  

“You won!” She points out, with a cautious optimism, smiling at you as she chuckles softly. “You’re supposed to be celebrating, not ..whatever the hell this is.”  

“I’m really sorry, I just ..I don’t like people getting hurt.”  

“You wouldn’t have had to go to a hospital with her, it’s alright.”  

“Mm.”  

She gives you a hug, which lasts a suspiciously long time for her, and you can feel her jaw moving against your shoulder as she lifts her head slightly.  

“Are you okay?” You ask, frowning as you push her away from you.   

“Mhmm.” She mumbles, not moving her eyes away from whatever it is that she’s seen behind you. “Are you definitely fine?” She checks again, with a mild desperation to her voice.  

“..Yes?” You reassure her, turning around in your seat to try and follow her gaze.  

“I’ll see you in the morning, then!” She tells you hastily, and she nudges your arm, before tossing your sweatshirt from her bag at you, and straightening herself up.  

“Wait, what?” You question, rather baffled by her quick switch in focus. “Where are you going tonight?”  

Em just directs your vision up a few rows of seats, to a red-headed woman who has very clearly taken her fancy. They’ve been making googly-eyes at each other all match apparently. Since you wound your sister up earlier, with your unwavering new support for the enemy, and Chelsea have just crashed out of the Champions League again, she’s going home with her tonight, to drown her sorrows.   

She really does have an incredible success rate with the ladies, at least you won’t have to make breakfast for this one in the morning.  

 

“You’re off, just like that?” You ask.   

“We can hang out again tomorrow?”  

“Aw, I appreciate that, Em. Thanks!” 

She chuckles at you, bouncing on her toes. “Ring taxi-man.” She advises you with a wink. “Or try to find your mysterious hickey-man, again! You deserve to have fun tonight. Celebrate the win properly! Get yourself another love bite!”  

“Mm.” You mutter, and she crouches down in front of you again.  

“Are you sure you’re okay?” She asks. “I can stay with you, if you want?”  

“Hm? No, don’t be daft. It’s fine, really.  Thanks. Go, have fun.”  

She doesn’t hang around long enough for you to change your mind. She gives you a far quicker hug than the previous one, patting you on the head, before running off and introducing herself to her new friend at the steps. They both cast you a quick wave, which you return a little awkwardly, before they walk up towards the exit. Just as easy as that.  

“Be safe!” You call out to them behind you, as you turn your attention back to the celebrations on the pitch.  

It takes a long while for the atmosphere in the stadium to really start fizzling out, and there’s still a distinct little hum of excitement that rattles through it, as the crowd dwindles, and the players continue making their way around the grounds.   

Alexia grins up at you as she passes by your section, and you can only manage to give her a weak smile in return as you pat your leg at her with a questioning look. She smacks her knee a couple of times, smiling with a dramatic roll of her eyes, and she gives you a thumbs up to signal to you that she really is okay. She isn’t limping anymore as she heads over towards the fans, so you could almost pretend it hadn’t happened at all, if it hadn’t been quite so mentally draining.   

A fair amount of supporters still line the barriers, holding out shirts and signs, and just about anything else that they can get a player’s autograph scrawled onto. Most of them are shouting for Alexia’s attention, and her popularity and fame is still quite an overwhelming thing for you to take in.  

She doesn’t miss any of them, they all get their moment with her. She makes sure everyone gets seen too, everything gets signed. She doesn’t rush a single encounter, and you don’t miss the way people’s faces keep lighting up whenever she approaches them.  

It’s very hard not to keep falling for her, watching her interact with people, the way that she is with them. She’s just good. She’s good at what she does, she's good with her fans, she’s a good person.   

You’re biting at your thumb again.  

The knuckles on your other hand, turning white, with the vice-like grip that you have on her sweatshirt. Your legs are bobbing, and you can feel your fingers freezing up. There’s a lot of combatting emotions fighting for dominance in your head, and you’re very unsure of yourself.  

The Chelsea fans were in far less of a partying mood, clearly, as you find yourself the only one left in the away section. You watch Alexia converse with the ever-diminishing crowd for a moment longer, before deciding, maybe it’s time for you to go, too.  

This isn’t your world; you don’t belong in it. It’s been a fun time with her, and there’s definitely a something between you, that’s been nice to explore, but there’s clearly been some sort of mistake. A divine, serendipitous little mix-up. She can’t be the one for you, as you’re really not the right one for her. It’s okay for this to be it, it’s okay for you to go.  

You walk down to the barrier and carefully rest her sweatshirt over it. You can’t really also leave her football shirt behind with it, but she’s probably not desperate for that back. She’ll have loads of them lying about, there’s probably another one waiting in her training bag, ready for her to give to someone else.  

You pat at the sweatshirt a few times, debating with yourself, and you look back up across the pitch to where Alexia is still signing shirts. She almost certainly does deserve someone better than you but abandoning her is still quite a harsh thing for you to do, she definitely deserves better than that.  

You can’t just leave her and not give her a reason for it, that’s very cruel. She was excited to see you, she’ll be upset if you walk out on her.  

You crash your head down onto the sweatshirt trying to decide your next move, letting out a quiet groan as you draw a blank. She’s still preoccupied with her fans when you raise your head again, and you start pacing the length of the railing tapping the tips of your fingers together.  

You look back down at the sweatshirt, across to Alexia, and up to the exit. Down at the sweatshirt, across to Alexia, and up to the exit.  

Sweatshirt, Alexia, exit.  

Sweatshirt, Alexia, exit. 

Sweatshirt, Alexia, exit. Exit. Exit.  

You find yourself stuck on the steps, only a second later, facing away from the pitch, without her sweatshirt in your hands. You’re really not sure what your plan is. 

You do still have that number in your pocket, you could always give him a call, he really was very good-looking, exactly your usual type. Tall, dark, handsome. Friendly. Very friendly. It’s classic to you, it’s easy. Maybe your sister’s right. You need to have a meaningless night with some random company that you just don’t give a shit about.   

You really just don’t want to go out with him, though. There’s a woman on the other side of the pitch that your heart’s still lunging out in the direction of, who still puts butterflies in your stomach every time she so much as looks at you.  

You don’t want to leave. You like this woman too much. There’s something real between you. Something strong.  

Maybe it’s too strong.  

It’s impossibly strong.  

It’s a delusional level of strong.  

You’re almost at the final step before the exit, when you hear a little whistle from behind you and it stops you in your tracks. Maybe it was that little bungee cord between you both, that alerted her to your leaving.  

It sends another chill coursing up the back of your neck, and there’s an instant blurring to your vision, as your eyes start welling up. 

“Y/N?” She calls up to you, with a small strain to her voice, and you flinch, your gaze dropping to the floor. Your jaw clenches, and you freeze in place, closing your eyes, in the hopes of just disappearing from right there in front of her.  

You can still go, just keep walking. It would still be very hard for her to find you. She doesn’t have your surname, or your address, she doesn’t know your phone number. 

You can get a clean break.  

Leave it as a solo night of fun. The meaningless distraction from him, that it was always supposed to have been. Stop letting yourself fall for her. Stop letting yourself care and worry, about a woman that you barely know. Go home. Behave. Find yourself a man and get on with your regular life.  

There’s another cautious whistle as you debate with yourself, and your heart aches, hearing it echo around you. You shift your body weight, awkwardly, from your toes to your heels, and back again, a fair few times. You drum your fingers against your thighs, over your stomach, and you look up at the sky, searching for an answer.  

You need someone to give you a push, give you a sign that you’re not making another mistake. You want your sister to come back and slap some sense into you. You want your mother to tell you what to do, she always did have the right answers.  

You gently tap your fingers to your face, trying to pull yourself back into your body, as you study the stars above you.  

There seems to be a definite twinkle to one of them, and you really don’t care if you’re just seeing things. You’re looking for an excuse, any excuse, and a slight flicker in the sky, is exactly what you needed. 

You straighten yourself up, before letting out a long breath with a small nod. You bounce on your toes, and you give your eyes a quick rub, before you ever so slowly, turn yourself back around.   

You might still be an idiot. A whole damn blasted fool.  

But she’s impossible for you to walk away from. That’s just not how it’s going to work with her. She already means too much, you’re already in too deep. She’s set up shop inside of your head, she’s already living inside of your heart. You couldn’t walk away from her, even if you wanted to. 

She has your heart skipping beats, whenever she says your name. She has the rest of existence fading into nothingness around you, when all she’s done is take your hand in hers. She sends goosebumps down your neck when she whispers to you, has you rolling your eyes with a chuckle, when she’s being a playful windup. Your mind starts spinning when she kisses you, and you feel safe when you’re resting in her arms.  

You had one of the best afternoons of your life yesterday, doing nothing, but spend a bit more time with her. Learning about her, laughing with her, kissing her. She’s put a burning inside of you, and a smile on your face. You spent the whole of last night, wide awake, because you couldn’t wait to see her again. She told you that she couldn’t wait to see you, either.  

This isn’t a solo night of fun, it’s not a meaningless distraction. It never really has been with her. It might very well be your person, that’s waiting for you down there, and you’d only stand to lose everything, if you walk away from her now.  

You draw in a breath and look down to the sidelines of the pitch. It’s the greatest women’s footballer in the world, that’s leaning up against the stands for you, and she’s hoping, that you’re not about to leave her, not without at least saying goodbye to her first.    

She looks very small when you see her. All the grandeur, and spectacle that shrouded her during the game, has been completely wiped once again. She’s just Alexia, Ale, A. She’s just a woman that you met in a nightclub, just a girl that you’ve been getting to know.  

There’s a very obvious sense of worry in her, it’s not a look that often spreads across her face. She shuffles herself, tapping her hands gently on the sweatshirt over the barrier as she tilts her head down towards the ground, and you steadily make your way back down the steps towards her.  

“Felicitats.” You offer weakly, and she smiles softly up at you.  

“Gràcies.”  

“Is your knee okay?” 

“Yes.”   

“Are you sure?”  

“Yes. I promise.”   

“It wasn’t a very friendly challenge.” You tell her, frowning at the tunnel that the Chelsea player made her escape from you down. “You gave me a fright, when you didn’t bounce straight back up. Are you definitely okay?”  

“Yes, I’m fine!” She insists. “Look!” She tells you, patting her knee a few more times, and kicking her leg out to show you that it hasn’t fallen off. You can’t not smile back at her when she’s being so very cute, even if she is incredibly stupid. “I promise you, it’s fine.” She repeats, and you just have to believe her.  

“You didn’t fancy telling me your big secret, yourself?” You call out, as you continue making your way towards the pitch, glancing around the stadium, before sliding your hands into your back pockets.   

“It didn’t feel ..that important,” is the excuse she gives to you, as she picks at the fabric in her hands, “the night that we first met.”  

“And yesterday?” You push, crinkling your brow up slightly. “Still not that important?”  

Her gaze drops to the ground as you wait on the bottom step, and you nibble at the inside of your mouth. “Are you angry with me?” She asks nervously, quietly tapping her hands with a bit more agitation, and not yet meeting your eyes.  

There’s a painful twinge in your heart as you watch her unfamiliar mannerisms, you much prefer when she’s being insufferably cocky and annoying. It’s far less painful, a lot more fun.  

You let out a breath, before closing the rest of the distance between you both, and you gently rest your hands on top of hers, to stop her little nervous drum solo. She still doesn’t lift her head to face you, and you take in a shaky breath, readying yourself.  

“Do I seem angry?” You ask her quietly, trying to encourage her to look at you, as you delicately draw shapes on the backs of her hands, to distract you both a little from the obvious tension.  

You don’t miss the goosebumps that quickly form up Alexia’s arms as you do, and there’s a feeling that jolts inside of you, knowing that you both have the exact same effect on each other, even with the most casual of touches.  

She lifts her eyes to study your face, and she shakes her head, as you smile softy back at her.  

“Well, there you go then!” You tell her with a light chuckle, placing a kiss to her forehead before resting yourself against the railing between you both, and she lets out a wobbly breath. “Of course I’m not angry with you ..I did feel a bit stupid last night, that I really didn’t know.” You explain. “..I feel a bit intimidated, now that I do.”  

“I’m still just me.” She reminds you quickly, and you can see the shimmer in her eyes, as she tries to keep herself from cracking.   

You can’t help narrowing your eyes at her little claim as she collapses her head down into you, nestling it in the crook of your neck. “They call you the bloody queen, Alexia.” You remind her, and she shakes her head against you.  

“I hate that title.” She confesses. “I promise you, I’m still just me.” 

 

It’s hard to deny her that. When all of the noise has died out, and it’s only the two of you left. She is just her, she’s just another woman. A woman who is very clearly worrying about you and your reaction to her career. She knows that she stands to lose you because of it, and it’s very obvious, as her tears pool on your skin, that that isn’t something she wants to happen.   

Despite it still being ridiculously early days between you both, this connection that you feel so strongly, may very well be reciprocated by her, and it would be a shame, for a bit of football, to stand in the way of it.  

It’s terrifying, knowing that she can get hurt. Realising that everything she’s worked so hard her whole life for, rests on a knife’s edge, every time she steps foot onto the pitch. It isn’t easy, being made aware of how common of an injury it is, and how there’s no way of protecting her from it.   

If she’s going to get injured again, that’s just a harsh reality of football, and that’s a very difficult pill for you to swallow. It’s not a risk that you can stop her from taking, either. This is her dream, and you’d just have to support her through it. The good, and the bad.  

It’s also a little disconcerting, knowing how adored she is. The fact that she’s quite a bit famous, especially in this city, if nothing else. As much as you don’t want to let it seep into your mind, and affect your thoughts about Alexia too deeply, it’s impossible for it not to have altered things for you slightly.  

You’re only human, and you weren’t really fully prepped, on what her celebrity actually entailed. She was just another regular person to you yesterday, but in reality, she is clearly very far from that, and it’s a little unfair that she wasn’t the one to break the news to you. To give you some sort of heads up, before throwing you in at the deep end today.  

But ..you really were having fun, before it all went south. You were excited, you were proud, you were enjoying a football match. She does things to you. She brings out a side of yourself that you’ve never explored before, a side that’s laid dormant, for your entire life. She’s incredible, in ways that largely transcend her achievements on the pitch.   

Alexia’s never made you doubt yourself. She’s never given you any reason to question her interest in you, that’s one thing that she’s never been secretive about.  

She doesn’t know what you do for a living, but she probably correctly assumes that you’re not famous, and that hasn’t put her off at all. She doesn’t think she’s too good for you, she hasn’t treated you like you’re beneath her.  

Her fame doesn’t follow her everywhere, you were able to be completely oblivious to it, before your sister told you about it. It’s not debilitating, it doesn’t stop you from having moments together. It’s something you might have to get used to. Find a way of understanding it, learn how to cope with it. Especially on match days, when you really can’t ignore the actual magnitude of it. That wouldn’t be impossible for you to do.

  

There’s a connection between you both, it doesn’t matter how celebrated she is. You haven’t just shared a few careless kisses; it wasn’t just one night of meaningless sex. There’s something real between you both, and it already existed before you knew who she was. This madness that surrounds her, was always the reality; you were just unaware of it.  

There was a spark, regardless. You’d have the same connection with her if she was filling shelves in a supermarket, why should this be any different?  

She wasn’t put off by your lack of interest in football. She really wanted you here today. She gave you her shirt to wear. She told you she hoped you’d enjoy the game. There were tens of thousands of people in attendance this evening, and she searched for you, specifically.   

She deliberately put you in a contrasting shirt, so that she’d easily be able to find you, so that she’d definitely know that you came, and that you were here, watching her. That’s all she wanted. She just wanted you to see her play, and for you to have fun while doing it. She wanted you here, cheering her on. The best player in the world, and she's been choosing you. A little nobody from London.  

You’re allowed to be excited about that. You’re allowed to stop questioning her and second-guessing yourself. You don’t need to pay attention to the noise around you, the excited obsession with her from strangers, those distracting little seeds of doubt that he’s put into your head about yourself.  

There’s just her. There’s just Alexia, and she wanted you here.  

“Well ..just you,” you start softly, placing a kiss to the side of her head, “is a bloody lot more impressive than most people ..you were incredible out there.” You whisper shakily, and you can feel as she smiles against you, burying her head further into your neck.  

“You enjoyed it?” She breathes, and you can see a small bit of the weight that she’s bearing, lifting from her shoulders.   

“Until that moment. Yeah, I really did!” You tell her, smiling in mild disbelief at yourself. “I was worried, that I might have to pretend for you, but I just ..really loved watching you play, seeing you score!”  

“Were you quietly cheering?” She asks, pulling herself back from you, to excitedly take you in.   

“There was nothing quiet about it!” You admit with a grin, as you wipe away the streaks of tears on Alexia’s cheeks with the backs of your fingers. “You scored the winner!”  

The biggest smile spreads over her face at your bold act of tiny rebellion, and she pinches at the fabric of your shirt, gliding her fingers down the front of it, as she gives it a quick examination. “You were lucky they didn’t throw tomatoes at you, then!” 

“Mhmm! I did get a few words thrown at me, mind! There’s some horrible people about.” You tell her, as she continues holding onto your shirt. Her eyes meet yours and it’s a pair of nervous smiles that you exchange with each other. “I know it won’t mean much, coming from me. I’ve not watched a lot of football, and I know you have some pretty big awards for it, but ..you’re really bloody good! I’m so proud of you.”  

“It means everything.” She tells you ardently, pulling you into her over the railing. “I’m so glad you enjoyed it!”  

You let yourself get lost in her embrace for a moment, while she clings to the back of your shirt, and you can hear as her breath hitches when you place a quick kiss to her neck.  

“I really didn’t enjoy watching you get taken down, mind.” You reiterate, quietly.   

“No? I didn’t love that either, really.” She admits, chuckling to herself.  

“But you’re definitely okay?” You check again, pulling away from her to look properly at her leg.   

“Yes. I promise you. It’s fine, I’m fine. It just happens sometimes.” She shrugs.  

“Please don’t tell me that!” You beg, quickly shaking your head at her. “You can’t be putting me through that every match!”  

“Mm? You’ll be watching more games?” She asks, with that famous little smirk coming back into view as you nod your head at her.   

“I mean, it’s a bitch of a commute to do this weekly, but I’ll definitely be watching you on the telly, when I can’t make it.”  

“Wow.” She says, linking her arms together behind your neck. “You really did enjoy it.”  

“I know ..you’ve broken me!” You chuckle, as she rests her forehead to yours, and her lips are once again, the only thing you can focus on. You watch as she wets them in front of you, and it almost feels like she’s taunting you a little bit. “Are we allowed to kiss here?” You ask, trying to disguise your desperation, as you pull yourself away to scan the stadium.  

There’s only a few random stragglers making their exits up the steps, and none of them seem to be paying any attention to the pair of you at all. So, it might not be beyond the realms of possibility.  

Alexia takes your face in her hands and tilts your head. “Yes.” She tells you, simply, and she pulls you into her, capturing your lips with hers. She doesn’t do her own check of your surroundings at all; she really isn’t too fussed if anyone’s watching you both this time.  

It’s quite the romantic place to have a kiss, honestly. A huge colosseum, that’s almost entirely empty, a blanket of stars in the sky up above you. It’s not a kiss with any caution. It’s not hasty or secretive. It’s familiar, safe, and it’s able to finally be unreserved.   

It’s a kiss that the pair of you have been craving. One that doesn’t taste of tequila, that doesn’t have to be hidden from view, and one that doesn’t have the looming dread of immediate departure attached to it. It’s a slow deep kiss, that feels like home, and you’re quite content to drown yourself in it.  

“Where’s Em?” Alexia asks, and she really has ruined the moment.   

She seems unaware, as her lips are still moving against yours, but you freeze, breaking the kiss at her twisted choice of topic.  

“Woww?” You drag out, pulling back from her with a frown. “Mentioning my sister is a real mood-killer I do hope you realise!”  

“I’m sorry!” She giggles, trapping her bottom lip between her teeth.   

“You’re supposed to have come over here for me, not her!”  

“I did come over for you!” She tells you, rolling her eyes at your dramatics. “I just meant ..you’re here on your own.”  

“Mm. She left me.”  

“Why?”  

“She met a girl, while we were watching you play,” you explain, “they’ve gone back to hers already.”  

“Oh?” She questions, her eyes sparkling as she arches an eyebrow at you. “To play cards?”  

“Yeah,” you chuckle, “I think so.”  

She links her arms back over your shoulders, leaning in very close. “So ..you’re without company tonight?” She checks, her lips ghosting yours, and your heart starts racing again at the suggestive tone to her voice.   

“Mhmm. That’s quite sad, isn’t it? When I’m on holiday?”  

“That’s very sad.” She agrees, tracing your jawline with her index finger.  

It’s hard not to have a physical reaction to the way that she’s always touching you, and you swallow down as she angles your face to draw her mouth even closer to you, your breath catching in your throat as her lips brush against yours.  

“Are you short on company tonight?” You whisper, rather shakily.  

“Mhmm.”  

“Oof. That might be even sadder.” You point out, and she nods in agreement with a small pout, before finally succumbing to another long kiss.  

You breakaway, entirely short on breath, and she smiles as the obvious effect she’s just had on you as you try to come to your senses. “Do you ..not want to celebrate with your teammates?”  

“Not really.” She tells you, her pupils dilating as her eyes roam over your body.  

“Would you ..maybe, want to do something with me, then?” 

“Are you asking me on a date?” She asks, her cocky little smile curving her lips, and you chuckle despite yourself.   

“I really think I might be. You admit. “I don’t know what you’ve done to me!” You tell her, shaking your head with a smile. “I’d never looked at another woman before, never cared about a football result. Never asked someone out on a date.”  

“Mm? And now look at you.” She says, cradling your face as she searches your eyes. “Does it scare you?” She asks, stroking her thumb over your cheek, and you pause for a beat in consideration.  

“A little,” you confess, “but never when I’m with you.”  

Your candour earns you another kiss. Whether she’s fully aware of the power her lips have on calming your nerves, or she just fancied kissing you, you don’t really know, and you don’t really care. You welcome it the same way you’ve welcomed every other kiss from her, and the same way you’ll continue to welcome any future kisses from her, should you be so lucky.  

“Were you going to leave me?” Alexia asks after a moment, tapping at the sweatshirt again with a horrible look of uncertainty in her eyes.  

“I really don’t know.” You tell her honestly, and worry creases her brow, as you let out a breath. “I don’t think I’d have got very far,” you admit, “but it’s just ..been a lot to take in.”  

There’s a familiar look of understanding from her. It’s the exact same look she had given you when you’d stayed still in the hotel elevator, as she had made her exit. It’s a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes, that barely curves her lips. It’s a look of acceptance, resignation, and it’s a heartbreaking sight to see.   

“I don’t want to leave you.” You clarify. “I don’t really know ..what this is, between us, but I know how I feel about you, and I don’t want to run from it. I just know ..that you can probably do better.”  

You bop your own hand gently on the barrier in a fist, and she narrows her eyes at you. “What do you mean by that?” She asks, and you nibble at the inside of your mouth.   

“I freaked out ..when you went down. It got to me outside, seeing your name everywhere. I couldn’t ..really tell you what my sexuality is, at this point.” You take a breath, still knocking your fist awkwardly on the railing. “There’ll be so many other women, more sure of themselves, more ..prepared, and ready to embrace everything.” You explain, closing your eyes to stop them from stinging. “They won’t need to study your team before you play, they won’t go into a panic every time another player gets a little too close to you. They’ll be just as desperate to be with you, and they’ll be bett—”  

You’re cut off from your little ramble, with what you’re assuming was a kiss.  

Your eyes are closed, and it was unbelievably quick. You’d be forgiven for thinking you’d imagined it completely; it was really quite so fleeting. If the fireworks that Alexia’s set off on your lips weren’t quite so familiar to you, you might have thought it was a bee that had stung you. She’s really gone and left you all lightheaded with little more than a peck.  

“You kissed me!” You tell her breathlessly, as though she wasn’t the one to do it to you.  

“Mhmm. Imagine that.” She says, as she lets her eyes roam over your face with a small smile. “You studied the team?”  

“I know, I’m sorry.” You cringe. “I just didn’t want to not know who you played with. I mean, I didn’t even know who you were yesterday, what chance would I have had with any—”  

She kisses you again, the exact same way, leaving you with the exact same reaction.  

“You kissed me!” You repeat, and she chuckles at you, nodding her head.  

“Mhmm. You’re on vacation,” she reminds you, “and you spent the day studying my team?”  

“Mm.”  

“And you worried about me getting hurt?” 

“Mm.” 

“And you’re so desperately into me, that I’ve got you questioning your sexuality?” She winks.  

“I mean..” you chuckle softly, rolling your eyes, “..maybe.” 

“And you really think, that any of that ..would make me like you less?” She asks, narrowing her eyes with that familiar smirk.  

“Well ..sort of.” You admit. “I mean ..the studying. Most people wouldn’t need to do that.”  

“You didn’t need to do that.” She points out.  

“Mm ..no, I really think I did.” You chuckle. “I didn’t know anything about football this morning, you can ask Em.” 

“You don’t care about football.” She reminds you. 

“Maybe not ..but I care a little bit about you. I just knew it was important to you, I didn’t want to be completely clueless about it.” 

Alexia shakes her head at you lightly, before kissing you again. It’s not so quick this time, so you don’t need to be as embarrassed about her still leaving you lightheaded and short on breath.  

“You kissed me!” You repeat, a childish grin taking over your face, and she rests her forehead to your shoulder, chuckling at your excited little reaction. “So, you do still like me the same?” You double-check and she lifts her gaze to meet your eyes.  

She cradles your head in her hand, shaking her own lightly back at you as she rubs her thumb over your cheek. “I think I might like you even more.” She tells you. “I wasn’t really sure that would be possible after yesterday.”  

“Really?” 

“Mhmm.”  

“Well ..what else are you into? I can study anything.”  

She giggles at your eagerness before kissing you again. “I’m very into you.” She says, and your eyes light up in front of her.  

“That’s so unbelievably lucky, I know almost everything about her already!”  

“Yeah? Then maybe we’re perfect for each other.” She tells you, with a distinct conviction in her voice that sends that special little thrill running right through your body as she pulls you in for another kiss. 

 

“So ..is that a ‘yes’?” You ask. “To maybe going on a date with me? It’s a bit late now, I know, but we still have tomorrow.” You suggest, beginning to stumble over your words. “I know it’s probably not the smoothest way you’ve ever been asked out. I’m new to this. I’m not very good, but I’ll work on it. I’ll get better.” 

“I think you’re already better than you think you are.” She tells you softly, resting her forehead to yours. “I’d love to go on a date with you.” 

“Even though my head’s a mess and I’m still figuring things out?” 

“Mhmm.” She giggles, gently rolling her bottom lip under her teeth. “I’ll help you figure things out. We’ll work it all out together.” She offers.  

“That could be a lot of work.” 

“I know, and I really think you might be worth it.” She tells you, giving you another gentle kiss. “I’m sorry all of this got to you. I should have told you about it yesterday, but ..I didn’t want to scare you off.” She explains. “I know it can be a lot, I don’t love every part of it..” 

“It’s okay, I don’t think anything could’ve prepared me for it, really. I knew you’d have a lot of fans ..it was just seeing them all. Like this ..Alexia army.” 

“I’m so sorry.” 

“Please don’t be. You have nothing to apologise for.” You reassure her. “Not unless all those other buggers also got their shirts from you?” 

“No,” she chuckles, running her fingers up the front of the fabric on your body, “you’re the only one.” 

“I should probably feel quite special, then.” You wink. “People would kill to be wearing this.” 

“Mhmm. You are special.” She tells you, her fingers trailing the neckline of your shirt. She pulls you back into her, her lips feathering yours. “You’re in my top three for a reason.” 

The barrier’s proving to be a little bit of a pest to the pair of you, what with it being such a hindrance to all of your kissing. After receiving confirmation from Alexia, that no one would attack you for joining her on the grass, you throw her sweatshirt on over your head, and quickly negotiate the railing to be with her. 

It might be your favourite place to be, just melting into her arms as she holds you against her. Even though she’s still a little bit gross from running around for so long, you wouldn’t really swap it for anything.  

Your eyes flick around the stadium as you look over her shoulder. There’s a faded majesty to the arena when it’s empty like this. You’re the only ones still out here and the beauty of the place isn’t lost on you, as you get to share it with Alexia. It feels more special without thousands of other strangers crammed in here with you, it’s like a secret discovery you’ve both stumbled upon. A vast abandoned colosseum, existing just for you two.  

“Does it not freak you out, playing in a place like this?” You ask her. 

“Not really.” She tells you, rather casually, joining you in staring up at the stands.  

“There’s so many eyes watching you.” 

“Mm. You sort of just block it all out.” She says. “You can hear everything, all the chanting and singing, but you don’t really pay too much attention to it. Not until you score, and then again at the end of the game. It isn’t really scary at that point, though. Then it’s just thousands of other people celebrating with you.” 

“You’re quite amazing,” you realise, gently nudging into her, “I think I’d shit myself.” 

She giggles at your blunt confession, intertwining her hand with yours. “I’d probably freak out if I did that in front of everyone.” She admits, kissing your fingers. “That’d be quite hard to live down.” 

“Do you not get nervous at all?” 

“No.” She tells you, simply. “I’ve worked hard for this. I trust myself; I trust the team. Us playing in stadiums like this, in front of crowds like that, it’s what we deserve. It’s what we’ve been doing it all for.” She drops her head momentarily, taking in a breath. “I wasn’t too sure I’d get the chance to play again at all, after..” she gestures loosely down to her leg and stands a little taller as her grip on your hand tightens, “I don’t take it for granted, that I’m able to be here. It’s where I’ve always wanted to be. I’m not going to waste time being scared of it.” 

There’s a different air of confidence to her on the pitch as you watch her. It’s not the same playful cockiness that she so often uses with you. It’s not arrogance, she isn’t being smug. She’s just proud of herself, the journey that she’s been on. She’s proud of where she is, she’s proud of her teammates and she really has every bloody right to be.  

“Are you okay?” She asks, her brow crinkling lightly as she looks to you. “You’re staring.” 

“Sorry. You’re just ..very beautiful.” You shrug, and you can see a small flush of colour settle over her cheeks as she smiles before quickly averting her eyes.  

“You haven’t told me what it is that you do for a living.” She reminds you, shirking the focus away from her as she walks backwards a little ahead of you, pulling you along with her. “We had an agreement.” She reminds you.  

“I think it’s far less exciting than your big reveal.” You warn her. “I’m just in finance ..banking.”  

You offer it with a tone of apology to your voice, which she certainly picks up on as she smiles at you and takes your other hand in hers. “That’s very impressive.” She assures you and a blush spreads across your own cheeks as she interlaces her fingers with yours. “You’re quite clever?”  

“I’m not too bad with numbers.” You chuckle.  

“Do you enjoy it?” She asks, and you nod your head.  

“That must seem ridiculous to you.” 

“Not at all. Are you good at it?” 

“Oof ..I’m not awful.” You smile. “I’ve actually been named ‘Employee of the Year’ on more than two separate occasions.” 

“Have you really?” She giggles.  

“Mhmm. That’s the same as those balloon awards of yours, right?” 

“Mhmm. Yes. Yeah ..I think that’s the exact same thing.” 

She really must like you if she’s willing to lie like that. There is slight tone of sarcasm to her voice, and rightly so. Your sister’s explained to you what a Ballon d’Or is, and Alexia being presented with it, for two years on the trot, is no mean feat. She’s been recognised for being the undisputed best at her profession, globally. You’ve received ‘Employee of the Year’ bonuses because your boss is a filthy pervert with a crush on you. These are not the same things at all.  

It’s very sweet of her to downplay her achievements for you and there’s something about her lack of arrogance with her career that’s very intriguing. She almost minimises her own importance, ignores the significance, and the impact that she’s had on the sport. It’s really just a regular job to her. She’s ‘just’ a footballer.  

She takes genuine pride in it, but she’s not gloating at all, she’s not bragging. Without her fans around her, you really wouldn’t know how big of a sensation she actually is. The fame and accolades really aren’t what she’s done any of this for. She just loves playing the game.  

“You’re staring again.” She points out, kissing your forehead.  

“You’re ..still very beautiful.” You tell her, offering up another shrug in lieu of any better explanation for your continual admiration of her.  

She places a kiss to the back of your hand, and her eyes twinkle over it as she meets your gaze. “We should get out of here.” She tells you. “I need to have a shower, but then we can go.” 

“Do you want me to wait here?” You offer, and she frowns at you in confusion. “So that you don’t have to introduce me to anyone.” You explain, and she giggles, shaking her head.  

“A few of them would probably recognise you.” She says, and a hot flush of embarrassment spreads right through your body.   

“Shit! For being drunk and angry?” 

“Mhmm! And straight.” She reminds you with a wink. “I think they quite like you, don’t worry. Mapi’s definitely a fan already.” 

A small groan falls from your mouth as you remember your rather unfortunate behaviour from that night, and it’s hard not cringe at yourself. It’s amazing you made such a good impression on Alexia, all things considered, but it’s a bit embarrassing to realise there was more than one world-class footballer watching your drunken antics.  

“I’ll have to stay out here.” You grimace. “That’s horrific!” 

“They’re probably already gone!” She giggles. “We’ve been out here for a while.” She places another kiss to your forehead, before walking backwards towards the tunnel holding her hand out for you to join her. “Are you coming?” 

You nod your head at her but make no real effort to move from where you are. “I never thanked you.” You call out to her, and she stills herself, tilting her head.  

“For what?” She chuckles, narrowing her eyes.  

“For saving me that night. From that old man ..I really don’t know where I’d be now if you hadn’t.” 

A grin splits her face, and she doesn’t miss a beat. “Therapy, probably!” She says, and her laugh echoes in the air around you.  

You quickly pull her sweatshirt back up to hide your face under it, shaking your head in shame, because she’s almost certainly right. It would have taken you a very long time to recover from waking up next to him the following morning. You definitely wouldn’t have been going for seconds, thirds and fourths with him all night. He’d have had a heart attack trying to compete with Alexia’s stamina.  

“He was so gross.” She reminds you, pulling the sweatshirt down as she returns to you. “You were very drunk.” 

She pushes the loose hairs back from over your face, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips as she cups your face.  

“I don’t remember you helping me with that.” You point out. “I had more drinks with you than anyone else.” 

“Mm ..I quite liked being inappropriate with you. You were very daring,” she recollects, kissing you again, with her cocky little smile, “you’d already licked most of me before we even left the club!” 

“You started it!” You remind her, and she giggles in front of you.  

“Well, if that was a competition we were having, I think you certainly won!” She admits. “I’m sure abuelo would have enjoyed drinking with you just as much.” 

“Oof. Please don’t.” You mutter, suppressing a gag. “I think I’d have slapped him if he’d tried licking me.” 

Alexia laughs again, lifting your hand to her lips, to place a kiss to the back of it, and she winks at you, before she licks all down it with her tongue.   

“You’re such a child!” You giggle, wiping your hand against your shirt, and she winks at you again. “You could’ve been here with that girl from the toilets.” You point out. “At least she was very pretty.” 

“I know.” She sighs wistfully. “It’s a shame someone stole me from her.” 

“Mmm ..okay.” You mutter, rolling your eyes.  

She shakes her head with a small smirk, taking your hand and pulling you into her before wrapping her arms around your waist. “I’m glad I’m here with you.” She tells you, lightly bumping her nose to yours. “Bit scary of you, though. Following me all the way out here!” 

“I didn’t follow you!” You tell her, removing yourself from her hold. “I barely even remembered you existed before you draped your arm over me in that café.” 

“You’re a terrible liar.” She scoffs. “You even followed us into that toilet.” 

“No, I didn’t!” You chuckle, crossing your arms in front of you as you smile up at her. “You followed me, though. Couldn’t keep you away!” 

“Mm ..maybe I really should’ve stayed with her instead.” 

“Okaay, that’s enough of that. She’s gone now, you missed your chance with her!" 

“Are you still jealous?” She winks, running her hands down your sides before slinking them back around your waist.  

“I wasn’t jealous. She was just ..all over you. In the toilet, of all places! It was very gross of you both, very unsanitary.” 

“Is that why you wanted to interrupt us?” She smirks, tilting her head very close to yours. “Bumped into me to stop me from catching germs? You’re very cute.” 

“That was an accident.” 

“You’re a terrible liar!” She laughs.  

“You were winding me up! Kissing someone else, what were you playing at?” 

“You went to go kiss men!” She points out.  

“I didn’t kiss any of them, though.” 

“It’s not my fault you were unsuccessful!” 

“I wasn’t unsuccessful!” You giggle, pushing her away from you. “I didn’t want to kiss any of them. I had one person on my mind that night, and I was actually very successful in getting her to kiss me ..eventually.” 

“I was on your mind?” She asks, bouncing her eyebrows as she rests her hands on your hips.  

“You’re so annoying, always so cocky.” You roll your eyes, linking your hands behind her neck before pulling her down to kiss you. “Yes. You were on my mind.” You admit, collapsing your head to her chest. “You’re always on my mind. You’re like a bloody broken record in here.” 

She kisses the top of your head, wrapping her arms around your shoulders. “You’re always on my mind too.” She whispers. “I don’t think I’ve really stopped thinking about you at all since I first saw you in that club.” 

“When you shoved that bloody lime in my face?” You mumble against her.  

“I didn’t shove a lime in your face!” She laughs. “I held it for you, I was being helpful.” 

“Mm ..well, then I owe you two lots of thanks.” You realise, lifting your head to meet her eyes. “One for your ..handy little lime assistance, and one for saving me from that ancient creeper. I am genuinely grateful for the second one.” 

“You don’t need to thank me for either of them.” She tells you. “I was being selfish really.” 

It’s difficult to know just how much time you both managed to kill outside, but the dressing room’s completely empty by the time you two make your way through to it. You sit, patting your hands against your thighs, as Alexia goes for her shower, and you try to keep yourself entertained without her.  

There’s a lot of things for you to look at in the room, lots to take in. There’s a history to the stadium, which should be interesting to have a backstage pass to. It’s a privilege, being in here. Legends have roamed these halls, sporting greats from decades past. It’s very exciting for you to be granted access to it, and yet, none of it’s at all fascinating to you when you know there’s a wet, naked lady in the other room.  

You continue drumming out your frustrations as you try to stop yourself from thinking of Alexia in the shower.  

All on her own. In the shower.   

Alone.  

Showering.  

You really just can’t help yourself.  

She doesn’t take too long to return to you and a loud gasp falls from your lips when she re-emerges.  

“¿Qué?” She winks, and the blush doesn’t even have the courtesy of creeping up on you, you’re just immediately bright red.  

“You’re naked.” You inform her, very quietly, in case she hadn’t already realised. 

“Mhmm.” 

“Wow..” You breathe, gritting your teeth as you try to remain calm.

“Oh? That’s so funny. I seem to remember that being the exact same reaction to the one you had last time!” 

“Heh heh heh!” You draw out slowly, rolling your eyes at her unremitting need to be cocky.  

She leans against the wall in front of you, and it really isn’t very easy to maintain eye contact with her when her body’s on full display in front of you. It doesn’t feel like she’s particularly bothered about your wandering eyes, which is really rather lucky, because you’re not exactly doing it with any level of subtlety.  

This isn’t really helping in keeping all of the dirty thoughts that you’ve been having about her at bay. You’re also going to split your lip open if you keep biting down on it as hard as you are. 

She moves towards you steadily, and your heart starts beating in double time. “You’re staring.” She tells you, yet again, and you nod at her very astute observation skills.  

“You ..are ridiculously beautiful.” You point out, struggling to keep your composure as she steps within reaching distance. “You’re also very dry.” You realise with a frown, trapping your hands under your legs. “You’re supposed to be having a shower so that we can get the hell out of here!” 

“Mm.” She hums, hooking a finger under your chin and tilting your head up to face her. “I was wondering if you might want to keep me company?” She says, and you have to gasp again at her very friendly little suggestion.  

“In the shower with you? While you’re naked?” You grin, and she chuckles, nodding her head.  

“Mhmm. I was hoping you might want to get naked too.” 

“Oof. What an incredibly tempting offer.” You admit, bobbing your legs as you wet your lips. “I just need a few minutes to really think about it.” 

“Mm?” She shakes her head and folds her arms. “You have two seconds before I’m revoking.” 

“Two seconds? Do you see what I mean about you being cocky and annoying? You think I fancy you that badly? That I’m that desperate and needy that I’ll just cave as soon as you—” 

“Uno.” 

“I’m in!” You exclaim, jumping to your feet with embarrassing haste. “I’m in I’m in I’m in I’m in I’m in!” You continue mumbling against her lips to make sure that she doesn’t start her unnecessary counting again.  

You make very light work of pulling both layers off over your head in one swift motion, and Alexia looks rather impressed with your efficiency as she drags her thumb down the middle of your torso. She bites her lip with her eyebrow arching slightly, as she takes you in, and you do feel a little bit proud of yourself.  

“I’ve been going to the gym a lot.” You tell her, tensing slightly to show off your progress.  

“I can tell.” She says, running her thumb back up your stomach.  

“Really?” You grin, trying to ignore the goosebumps that have spread over your skin from her touch. “I slept with this girl whose body made me drool.” You admit, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “Felt like I was letting the side down a bit, so.” 

“I think you’re beautiful naked.” She tells you, and your heart skips a beat as her eyes darken over you.  

“That’s very crazy! That’s the same thing that she kept saying!” 

“Mm?” She loops a finger through your belt buckle, drawing you in closer to her.  

“It does turn out that she’s a professional athlete, though. So, I might have to just settle for being second best.” 

She chuckles at you, shaking her head. “All this ..is for her benefit?” She asks, leaning into you.  

“Mm. Well ..I wasn’t really sure I’d ever find her again,” you admit, letting out a very cautious exhale, “..but no one else has seen me..”

 

It’s a pointed confession from you, carrying a lot of added weight to it. Neither of you owe each other any loyalty from that night and you’d have no real right to be hurt, if she has explored other options. It’s not a test from you, you know it wouldn’t really change things, you did give it a try yourself, to be with someone else.  

It didn’t feel right to you, when it wasn’t with her, you could barely even flirt with another person, but you can’t really have any negative reaction, if Alexia hasn’t had that same struggle. There’s a morbid curiosity in you, perhaps, given the direction your previous relationship went in, and you can only hope, that she will treat your heart more gently than he did.  

She doesn’t know, that you were cheated on, she wouldn’t know, what her own admission would mean to you. You’re offering yourself up unprotected, to a woman who isn’t aware of the bomb she could be setting off inside your chest. It’s a silent plea from you, that this really has been as all-consuming to her, as it has been to you, and it’s very a big ask of someone, who you’ve only met thrice.  

Her eyes pierce through to your soul, as she studies you, and it’s excruciating, waiting for her to give you something. There’s a clear caution in her, of what she’s about to tell you, and you’re not certain if it’s guilt, or sympathy, or something else entirely.  

“Really?” She asks, and her voice is hoarse, as her eyes narrow at you. You can’t trust yourself with words right now, so you only offer her a silent nod, and there’s a glimmer in her eyes at your promise. She’s tentative, and nervous, and the mystery that once shielded her eyes when you first looked into them, is slowly dissolving in front of you. It isn’t guilt or sympathy that she’s feeling, she’s scared of letting you in.  

It’s not unreasonable for her to have her own concerns, regarding you. You were incredibly pig-headed, about being straight, the night that you first met. You told her your relationship had ended only recently, and then you jumped straight into bed with her.  

She can be certain that you’re attracted to her, you haven’t hidden that very well, but she has no real reason to assume that she isn’t a rebound, or a little sexuality test for you. You’re not the only one putting yourself in a vulnerable position here, she also stands to get hurt from this.  

There’s the slightest hint of a smile on her face, as she accepts that you’re telling her the truth. The subtle confession, that the girl who was so relentlessly hunting for some random male company the night that Alexia first met her, hasn’t been on that same hunt since, clearly means as much to her, as a similar confession would mean to you.  

“I haven’t been with anyone else either.” She tells you, and it breathes life back into your lungs.  

You catch her entirely off guard as you press your lips against hers, but she’s very quick to catch up with you. There’s a distinct desperation in the kiss this time, a fervent hunger. An intense desire to make known how much she means to you, to show her that the small question mark that you have over your sexuality, doesn’t extend to any questions about her. You’re in no doubt of your feelings, you’re very certain of what you want.  

Actions speak louder than words, clearly, and you’re definitely not leaving anything up to speculation. The passion in you continues to build and it’s Alexia who’s left breathless, when you finally pull away. You’ve rendered her speechless, and she blinks hard a few times as she lifts her fingers to her lips, before collecting herself again.  

You’re sporting her smirk as she looks back at you, and she rolls her eyes with a shy smile. “Are you getting naked, or what?” She asks impatiently, and a laugh rings out from inside of you.  

“Oof. I love when you’re romantic with me, baby.” 

This might actually be your favourite place to be. Not the random shower stalls, they’re not particularly important to the rush that’s shooting through you. It’s entirely down to the wet and naked company that you have in here.  

Reacquainting yourself with the curves and the ridges of her body, having her pressed up against you as her hands explore yours. It’s exciting just being back with her, your body’s on fire under her touch, your soul’s been reawakened, and none of the scenarios you kept playing through in your head, could ever really compare to having the real thing in front of you again.  

“Is your leg still sore?” You ask, placing kisses along Alexia’s jawline as she leans her back against the tiles.  

“I’ve already told you, that it’s fi—“ 

“Because I was thinking,” you interrupt, cutting her off with a kiss to her lips, “we should probably take some precautions.” You suggest, and her eyes narrow as she smiles slyly at you. “We wouldn’t want to aggravate it..” 

“Mm.” She nods, trapping her tongue between her teeth. “Are you offering to get down on your knees for me?” She asks you knowingly, tangling her fingers in your hair.  

“Mhmm ..for the good of the team.” You offer, feigning herosim as you kiss along her chest. “For football.” 

“Mm ..well, I did score the winning goal.” She reminds you.  

“Well, exactly, and that deserves to be celebrated.” 

She chuckles, as she pulls you back into her by your neck, catching you a little off guard as her tongue re-enters your mouth. “I really have missed you.” She murmurs against your lips.  

“Mm but like ..as a person,” you check, pulling back slightly, “not just my bloody tongue?” You pout softly up at her as she giggles with a nod. “Because I’m quite nice company for you to have around ..I’m very cute and funny.” 

“You’re adorable and hilarious.” She agrees, running a finger up the middle of your torso. It sends goosebumps all along your body again, which she’s acutely aware of as that smirk is very much back on her face.  

“But in like a sexy way.” You tell her, trying to ignore the heat she’s sent through you, and she continues to nod her head as she bites her lip. “Like a ..'I should take that girl home with me and do dirty things to her' kind of way."

“Is that what you’d like me to do to you?” She asks, with her eyebrow arching.  

“After our shower ..yes please.” 

“Okay.” She promises, tangling her fingers even further as she kisses you. “Then drop to your knees.” She instructs you, and much like a loyal little soldier, you’re very quick to do as you’re told.  

She’s never really been quite so assertive with you, and a mild moan escapes you from it, as you traverse down her body, leaving a trail of kisses as you make your descent. She tightens her grip on you as she tilts your head to look back up at her, sending a dull pleasure running through you, before she guides you to the place where she’s wanting you most.  

It ends up being one of the longest showers of your life, and you’re lucky to be leaving the stadium together before you both get locked inside of it.  

Discussion turns to sleeping arrangements as you walk the length of the parking lot. Neither of you have any intentions of going home without the other, despite the lateness of the hour, and it feels like there’s an obvious choice for where you’ll end up staying. The hotel isn’t the best place for you tonight. The receptionist would undoubtedly recognise the company you’re keeping, and despite Em being out for the night, she isn’t exactly known for hanging around with her lady-friends the morning after.  

You don’t really want to have to kick Alexia out super early, and Em catching the pair of you tangled up in bed together when she gets back, also doesn’t sound ideal.  

“Are you scared of dogs?” Alexia asks as she opens her car door for you.  

“No..” 

“Then we’ll go back to mine.” 

“You told me Nala was a Pomeranian?” 

“She is.” 

“Well ..then even if I was scared of dogs, I probably wouldn’t be afraid of her.” You giggle, placing a kiss to her temple before getting into your seat.  

“I was just checking.” She tells you as she joins you in the car.  

“Is she unfriendly?” 

“No, she is a very good judge of character, though.” She warns, with a smile that’s mildly disconcerting.  

“Oh ..so it’s a red flag if she takes a disliking to me?�� 

“Mhmm. I’d have to kick you out!” 

It doesn’t feel like a fully-fledged threat from her, but there is a tone to her voice, that tells you she’s not completely joking either.

She starts up her car and rests her hand on your leg as she sets off from the stadium. Her fingers trace circles on the inside of your thigh and you have to link her hand with yours as she starts trailing up, to stop her from doing too much when the goosebumps quickly form along your skin. 

“I’m sorry,” she offers, “you don’t like it?” 

“I might like it a bit too much.” You chuckle, placing a kiss to the back of her hand, before placing it back in your lap.  

It’s hard to stop your eyes from drooping a little in the car, you really are very exhausted. You rest your head against your seatbelt and dig the nails of your free hand into your leg to try and stop you from falling asleep. You have limited time with Alexia as it is, and you don’t want to miss out on any precious minutes.  

There’s something unfortunately hypnotic about the glow from the streetlamps above you, though, which isn’t super helpful with your plight. The light pulses through the windows as Alexia drives, and you give your head a shake when you find your eyelids getting too heavy.  

“Are you okay?” She asks, a little alarmed at your sudden spasm.  

“Mhmm.” You mumble, stifling a yawn. “I really need you to keep talking to me, please. I don’t want to fall asleep.” 

“What do you want to talk about?” 

“Anything.” 

She stares out at the road in front of her, losing herself in thought for a moment. She raises your hand to her lips to place a lingering kiss to your fingers, and she bops her other hand on the steering wheel.  

“I asked after your initial.” She tells you whimsically, and your face scrunches, not at all following what she means.  

It was a very weird thing for her to say to you, it’s not entirely down to your sleepiness that you didn’t understand.  

“Sorry?” You ask, and her grip on your hand tightens. 

“I was back in London last week ..I went back to that club.” She reveals, and your heart misses a beat as she speaks. “I was hoping, maybe you’d be in there again ..looking for a man.” She rolls her eyes and drums her fingers over the wheel. “I was worried ..that you might have already found one, when you weren’t there.” You place another kiss to the back of her hand, and her fingers twitch as they link through yours. “I think we made a big impression on that bartender.” She giggles.   

“Bless him. We really did put on quite the show.” 

“Mhmm! He was there again, when I went. I asked him about you, and he said he definitely remembered us, but he told me he really had no idea who you were.” A sigh escapes her lips, and she taps at the steering wheel again. “I couldn’t stay in there for very long.” She admits. “It gave me a headache. It was bad enough being in the same hotel. I did have a roommate this time, so ..we really did end up playing cards together, but ..I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Knowing you had to be near, but I’d never be able to find you.” 

“I could’ve gone to that game.” You tell her thoughtfully. You stroke your thumb along the side of her index finger and clench your jaw. “Em invited me, and I told her to bore off.” You explain. “If I’d have had any idea ..I’d have been front row for you. I hate that we missed out on time together.” 

“We’re together now.” She points out quickly.  

“Only until tomorrow night ..then we’re right back where we started.” 

“Not really.” She assures you, giving your hand a squeeze. “We know who we are now. We know where we are, we’ll swap numbers.” 

“And we’ll what, make a proper go of it? With all of these miles between us?” 

Her jaw tightens slightly as she continues staring out in front of her. “If you also want to.” She says softly.  

“I’ve never really loved the idea of doing long-distance.” 

“You don’t think it works?” She asks you, and her voice cracks slightly.  

“I know that it can. It’s just ..not ideal.” You sigh.  

“You’d miss me too much?” She smirks, and you shake your head with a small smile.  

“Maybe.” You admit. “Why’d you have to be bloody Spanish?” 

“You’d prefer me to come from London?” 

“Yes! I mean ..you wouldn’t sound as lovely, but at least you’d be local.” You point out. “It’d be far easier.” 

“Mm.” She mumbles. “Well ..you could have been from Barcelona, that would’ve been helpful.” She pulls the car up outside of her home, and you stare out at it through the window. “Come on.” She tells you, patting your thigh as she opens her door. “We won’t have to worry about any of this if Nala doesn’t like you!” 

Alexia greets you at your side of the car and takes your hand as she leads you to the door. “¡Buena suerte!” She whispers, and you’re not 100% sure what it means, as she gives you a very dramatic look of dread before she pushes through the entrance. 

It feels like she’s really trying to worry you, but it would be very harsh to send you back to your hotel with your tail between your legs because her dog’s barked at a stranger. You’re not exactly Dr Dolittle but are you a fan of animals, and you’d be quite upset yourself if Nala didn’t take a liking to you.  

You’re attacked, as soon as you step through the door. It’s not an uncontrolled ravaging that you receive, Nala certainly isn’t rabid. It’s a very excitable licking that you’re greeted with, it would seem that dogs really are like their owners. It really isn’t the big and scary personality test that Alexia likes to pretend it is at all, but she might have already known it wasn’t going to be a dealbreaker when she pushed you into the house with this vicious scary animal before her.  

“Well, shit.” She sighs, looking down at you as you play with her dog on the floor, and the rare expletive from her mouth rings very cutely in your ears.  

“What?” You giggle, craning your neck to meet her gaze.  

“Now we might have to worry about it.” 

You lift Nala into your arms and rise to your feet. A toothy smile spreads across your face as you move towards Alexia, and there’s a lot of affection for you being carried in her eyes.  

“She quite likes me.” You point out, and Alexia nods her head, trapping her bottom lip between her teeth. “And she doesn’t even know what I’m saying to her.” You place a kiss to the top of Nala’s head. “You might have to teach me some Spanish ..so we can have a proper conversation.” You tell her, bobbing Nala in your arms as you bury your face in her fur. “It’d make my trips out here a bit easier too.” 

Alexia’s eyes widen slightly at your casual words of intent, and she beams at you as you give her dog another kiss. “You do want to give us a go?” She asks.  

“Mhmm. I think I’d be crazy not to.” 

“It could be a lot of work.” She tells you, and you nod, smiling up her. 

“I know ..and I really think you might be worth it.” 

A full smile takes over her face as she quickly takes Nala from your arms and places her back down on the floor, before giving you a quick kiss. She pulls you through with her to let Nala do her business outside, and something shiny on the wall draws your eye. 

“These are all your trophies?”  

“..Some of them.” 

“Blimey!” You chuckle, as you move closer to them all. You keep a small distance, crossing your arms to make sure you don’t accidentally knock anything, and you study one, in particular, that’s caught your attention. “You made my sister cry, when you got this one.” You tell her, pointing to her World Cup medal. “I thought something terrible had happened when she rang me.” 

“I’ll have to apologise to her," she winks, “when we meet.” 

“Mm. You’ll have to apologise for today’s match, too.” You point out with a grin. “You’ve ruined her life a few times, I think.” 

Nala makes her way back inside, brushing against your legs as she scurries off to who knows where, and a finger tapping at your shoulder, distracts you from your perusal of Alexia’s trophy cabinet. She smiles as you turn to face her, and she runs her finger down your nose before giving you a quick kiss. 

“Oh my god!” Escapes your lips in a breathy giggle as Alexia lifts you into her arms and you wrap your legs around her waist. “Hi.” 

“Hi!”  

It’s a passionate kiss that she gives you, and any sense of tiredness that was taking over your body a few minutes ago, is very quickly forgotten as you lose yourself in her.

“I can walk.” You remind her, as she carries you towards her bedroom. 

“I don’t care.” 

You’re almost winded when your back hits the mattress, as she flings you onto it, a little carelessly. You’d probably be more stroppy about it, if she didn’t pull her shirt off before joining you on the bed. She didn’t bother putting a bra on after your shower and you’re very easily distracted.  

It is her actual eyes you find yourself fascinated by this time, though. They really are very beautiful, and there’s far less mystery lingering in them now. It’s tenderness you see in them as she looks over you, silent intimacy, devotion, and the idea of eyes being the window to the soul has never seemed more true to you.  

There’s an honesty in her eyes that far exceeds any words she could ever say to you, but you’re fairly sure you know what she’s thinking. You’re almost certain, in fact, and you feel compelled to confess something to her yourself. 

“You. are. staring. again.” She tells you, punctuating each word with an increasingly deeper kiss.  

“Mhmm.” You concede, and your hands rest on her hips as she smiles down at you. You swallow down carefully as your eyes meet hers, and your heart skips a few more beats. “I really think ..that I might be falling for you.” You profess, and her pupils dilate as she smiles down at you. “Is that ridiculous? To fall for someone so quickly?” 

“I don’t think so.” She says, her brow furrowing slightly. “Sometimes you just know.” 

“Would it be okay ..if I did start falling?” 

“Mhmm.” She runs her finger under your chin, rubbing her thumb over your bottom lip, before leaning herself down over you. “I’m falling for you, too.” She tells you, before pulling you into her by your neck.  

It’s different, from the sex you’ve had with other people before, being with Alexia. It never seems to be quick, and it doesn’t feel one-sided. You’re not left wanting after it, it isn’t unfulfilling. There's a continual desperate desire in you, to have her be with you, and to make sure that she’s also feeling good. It’s not a chore, and it isn’t something that she’s demanding from you.  

There’s passion between you, affection, and it’s an equal offering from you both. It’s exciting, it’s fun, and it puts all your past experiences to shame. There’s an innocence in your enjoyment of each other, it really isn’t just a physical act between the two of you. It’s a bearing of your soul to each other, every time, and it’s no wonder at all, that you’re falling as quickly as you are. 

There’s far more confidence in you now. You’re not having to follow Alexia’s lead quite so much. You know her body, what she likes you doing to it, and you savour every second of having her back under you. Every whimper and moan that you’re able to coax from her, how she feels around you, the taste of her on your tongue. Having her able to cry out your actual name this evening, has also set your soul on fire. Hearing it echo around in the showers, having her moan it like a quiet secret into your ear, as she grips at the sheets beneath her. 

Alexia does have you entirely at her mercy when she chooses to take back control, and whether she really did appreciate you being so selfless by caring about her injury in the shower, or the fact that Nala took to you quite so quickly, you can’t be certain, but you’ve definitely done something to have her wanting to treat you extra nicely, before you remind her that she doesn’t need to be quite so gentle with you.  

This isn’t your first time; you’re very much wanting her to have her wicked way with you. 

It satisfies the burning inside of you, completely, satiating your hunger, and happily leaving you a little worn out after everything. She’s in a similar state of exhaustion, panting when she collapses back down onto you. So, you can probably give yourself a little pat on the back for your own efforts with her.  

“Are you okay?” She checks with you, as you try to steady your breathing. She places a kiss to your neck in such a way, that you know she’s leaving another mark that you’ll need to cover up, and you run your fingers down her sides.   

“Mhmm ..I think you’ve wiped me out.” You admit, lazily kissing along her shoulder.   

“I think you’ve done the same!” She tells you, chuckling, as she rubs her thumb over your neck, admiring the new bruise that she’s decorated you with.  

She watches over you for a moment, and you raise your fingers to your face.  

“Do I have something on me?” 

“No..” 

“Well ..now you’re staring.” 

“Mhmm.”  

“Are you okay?” 

“Do you want children?” She asks you, rather abruptly, and you have to chuckle at the timing of her question.  

“What?” 

“Children.” She repeats.  

“..I don’t know what the Spanish education system has taught you, Ale ..but what we just did to each other ..isn’t resulting in any babies.” 

“Idiota,” she chuckles, “but do you want them?” 

“I don’t want you to go out stealing any.” 

“Y/N!” She giggles, holding herself up over you. “I’m being serious.” 

She shakes her head at you, and you grin up at her. “I think I do, yeah. Eventually, with the right person.” 

A faint smile spreads over her face and she leans down for a kiss.  

“Do you?” You question, and she nods her head, before kissing you again.  

“Two.” She tells you. “One of each. A girl first.” 

“I’ve always thought I’d have a girl first.” You admit. “Though ..I figured I’d just have two girls ..a little boy would be cute.” 

“Mhmm!” She hums against you, linking her hands with yours as she pushes herself back up.  

“That's a very intense question,” you point out, “before we’ve even been on our first date. I should be running for the hills.” 

“Do you want to?” 

“No,” you admit, “but you’ve got me picturing a family with you, and we’ve only hung out three times!” 

“Is that what we’re doing?” She questions with a smile. “We’re hanging out?” 

“What would you call it?” You ask her, and her eyes glitter above you.  

“I don’t know,” she says, “but I don’t hang out with anyone else like this.” 

“That’s a relief!” You chuckle, and she bites her lip as she shakes her head again.

“I think I want to be doing more than just hanging out with you.” She tells you, and a small smirk pulls at your lips.  

“Well ..if our date goes well tomorrow, and we keep agreeing to meet up and go out with each other. Then ..we’d probably be dating.” 

“Would that scare you, dating a woman?” 

“Not when the woman’s you. I don’t think I’d ever shut up bragging about it.” 

“That’s a lot of pressure on you, then.” She points out with a smile. “To make sure our first date goes well.” 

“I know, and I don’t know Barcelona very well.” You remind her. “I wouldn’t know where I can take you, where you won’t get papped.” 

She nods in understanding and leans down for a kiss. “Then, will you go on a date with me?” She asks, with a very knowing smile. “I can arrange our Barcelona dates, if you sort the ones in London.” 

She holds out her pinky in front of you, for you to solidify your promise with her, and you place a kiss to your linked fingers, before losing yourself in her eyes again. “Deal.” You tell her softly, and a thrill flows right through your body as she collapses back down onto you.  

It stirs in your head, as you realise that this is what it should actually feel like to be with someone. An excitement inside of you when you know you’re about to see them. A constant wish to be near to them, a genuine enjoyment of their company. A want to share your life with them, to talk about a future together without a sense of fear, or dread about it.  

It’s what you could have gone on to miss out on, for your whole life, without her.  

There’s a comfort in you, when you’re with her, a lazy pleasure in having her body resting on top of yours. The way her fingers trace over your every curve, how her lips light tiny fires on your skin. Each caressing touch from her is one that you crave. Every kiss, the way she laughs. Her relentless teasing, her continual cockiness.  

It’s all something you want no other person to be lucky enough to experience the way that you’ve been able to. It’s all what combines together to make up Alexia. You want her, completely. Body and soul.

And it hits you, like a hammer to the chest. 

You’re already in love with this woman.  

“Are you okay?” She asks. “Your heart’s beating very quickly.” 

“Mhmm ..I’m fine.” 

She props herself up on her elbows over you and tilts her head with a raised eyebrow. 

“I’m a terrible liar?” You realise, and she softly nods her head. 

“You can talk to me.”  

“I know, I just ..I’m just going to miss you, after tomorrow.” 

“We can’t do that to ourselves.” She tells you quickly. “We still have the whole day to spend together.” 

“I know, I just—” 

She mutes you with a kiss and shakes her head. “No.” She says. “We’re not doing that. We can worry about it later. I’m taking you out tomorrow. You can’t go into our first date feeling miserable, the rest of our dates rest on the success of this one. You go into this date worrying about saying goodbye, we’ll never have any other da—” 

You cut her off this time.

It seemed like she was really about to start spiralling almost as pathetically as you have been doing all day. What a pair of losers you are together. Maybe you are perfect for each other. 

“Okay.” You tell her, nodding as you wipe a tear from the corner of her eye. “Okay, I’m sorry.” 

“We have one more day together,” she whispers, “we’re not wasting it being sad.” 

It’s an unfortunate curiosity, that sleep has been so hard for you to come by when you’ve been so desperate for it, and now, it’s threatening to steal you away when you fancy nothing more than staying awake forever. You don’t want to go to sleep, but a yawn that you’re not quite quick enough to stifle, lets Alexia know that you’re struggling a little to stay up with her.  

“Shit.” You mutter, throwing your arm over your face. “You caught that didn’t you?” 

“Mhmm. You can go to sleep.” She assures you, but you shake your head with a petulant pout.  

“I’m not tired.” You tell her, and she giggles, placing a kiss to your forehead before rolling off the side of you.  

“You really are a terrible liar.” She says, opening her arms to welcome you into her, and you don’t waste much time nestling yourself in her embrace.  

“I don’t want to sleep.” You admit to her chest, and she runs her fingers through your hair. “Not while I’m with you.” 

“I’ll still be here when you wake up.” 

“You’d better be.” You tell her. 

She throws her leg over your hip, drawing you in even closer to her, and you run your fingers up her thigh. 

“Are you quite comfy?”

“Mhmm! I’m not having you roll away from me again in the morning.” 

“I really wouldn’t want to.” You murmur, placing a kiss to her chest, as you snuggle closer against her.  

“Well, now you can’t!” She tells you. “I have very strong legs.” 

“I know, you do.” You chuckle sleepily. “I’ve had them clamped around my head a few times.” 

Another small yawn escapes you as you close your eyes, finally accepting defeat, and you place another lazy kiss to her chest as you begin drifting off.  

“Te quiero, Y/N.” Alexia whispers. “Dulces sueños.” 

“You sound really very lovely ..and I’m really bloody sorry ..but I don’t know what you’re saying to me.” You remind her, and you can feel her nodding her head gently. 

“Sweet dreams.” She translates, tightening her arms around you, as you struggle to stifle yet another little yawn.  

“Sweet dreams, Ale.” You manage to mumble in reply, before sleep fully consumes you, and you’re finally able to rest.

[thedensworld]

Top 10 Anime Betrayal | K.Mg

Genre: fluff, est. Relationship

Summary: It's hot news, and you can't help but share it with your boyfriend because Mingyu always loves your stories—top 10 anime betrayal level.

Author note: literally based on a recent experience of mine. I'm done with them凸( •̀_•́ )凸

“I swear this one takes the top spot on my list,” Mingyu giggled, recalling your earlier struggle to articulate what had left you so speechless. You had been fuming, your voice caught somewhere between disbelief and anger, too stunned to say anything coherent when he first asked you what was going on.

“So, now you’re ready?” he teased, leaning back as he observed you intently. He noted that your breaths were steadier, your flushed cheeks had regained their normal color, and the fire in your tone had simmered down, if only just a little.

You nodded, taking a deep breath before starting. Mingyu tightened his hold around your waist, drawing you closer. The two of you were sitting on the couch, your legs draped over his as you straddled his lap, his face inches away from yours. The proximity between you revealed just how eager and passionate you were to share this news.

“I told you about Yunji last night, right?”

Mingyu’s eyes lit up with recognition. Of course, he remembered Yunji—one of your closest friends. She was a sweet girl, full of kindness and patience, but she had unfortunately ended up with a very toxic and manipulative man. Yunji had been dating this guy for five years, and you and your other friend, Dain, had tried numerous times to show her what kind of person he really was—a cheater, a liar, and emotionally abusive.

Mingyu’s jaw had dropped when you first told him about the time Yunji’s boyfriend almost slapped her, and how he always tried to undermine her achievements, belittling her and making her feel small. You had recounted how you confronted Yunji with all the things you’d uncovered about him, only for Yunji to respond with words that had left you devastated. “I don’t know who to believe.”

“She didn’t believe me, babe. It broke my heart,” you’d confided in Mingyu that night, tears of frustration and hurt streaming down your face. Mingyu had held you in his arms for hours, whispering comforting words and stroking your hair until you finally drifted off to sleep, both of you still aching from Yunji’s refusal to see the truth.

Last night, Yunji had texted the group chat in a frenzy, saying she’d finally caught him cheating. She’d found messages on his smartwatch, which he’d accidentally left at her house. You’d been beside yourself with joy and relief. “I can’t believe the time has finally come! Oh my God, I’m so happy!” you’d exclaimed, clutching Mingyu’s arm as you read out the messages. Yunji had said she was going to break up with him for good, and Mingyu, despite being half-asleep, had listened patiently to your excited ramblings, smiling softly as you kissed him goodnight. “I always knew he was a cheater. I’m just glad she’s finally aware now. Thank God you’re not like him, love.”

But now, here you were, with an entirely different expression on your face.

“It was a misunderstanding,” you muttered, the words tasting bitter as they left your mouth.

Mingyu’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean, honey?”

You let out a frustrated sigh. “The messages weren’t his. They were his brother’s. Apparently, his brother had been using the smartwatch until just yesterday, and the messages got left behind when they switched.”

Mingyu still didn’t get it. “But… they’re still breaking up, right?”

You scoffed, bitterness seeping into your tone. “I wish.”

Mingyu’s eyes widened. “No? Really? She’s staying with him?”

“And you know what she said after all of this?” You paused, glancing at your phone, as if reading her words would make them any less painful. “She said, ‘It was a misunderstanding, and I have to settle everything. Let’s not talk about this for now.’”

Mingyu blinked, sharing your expression of betrayal. “That’s it? After everything you and Dain did for her?”

You shrugged, showing him the last text you’d sent in the group chat. “I told her I’m done with this shit.” Your voice shook as you remembered the sleepless nights and the hours you’d spent worrying about her, all gone to waste. “I told her I’m here for her if she needs company, but if she wants to vent about her sad life with that shitty boyfriend, I’m out.”

Mingyu scanned the message you’d sent, his gaze softening as he looked back up at you. “You did the right thing,” he murmured, pulling you into his chest and wrapping his arms around you. “I know she’s your best friend, but she really discredited you and Dain by saying that.”

“I know,” you mumbled into his neck, fighting back the urge to cry. “I didn’t lose sleep for nothing!” Your voice wavered, your exhaustion seeping through.

Mingyu chuckled softly, rubbing small circles on your back. “Let’s go to sleep, baby. You need to rest. No more thinking about them.”

You lifted your head, nodding with a resigned smile. “Right?! I don’t need to think about them. I don’t have to care anymore. Screw them both. If she needs me, I’ll be there, but I’m not wasting any more energy on this drama.”

With a soft grunt, Mingyu stood up, carefully cradling your body that still clung to his. “Alright, baby girl. Now it’s time for you to get some real rest.”

You hummed contentedly, nuzzling into his neck as he carried you to bed. “I love you…” you whispered.

Mingyu smiled, his heart swelling with warmth as he gazed down at you. “I love you more, love. Now sleep.”

With him holding you close, the weight of betrayal and heartache slowly began to melt away, leaving you cocooned in the safety and comfort of his embrace. And for the first time in days, you felt like you could finally breathe again.