#again a lot of this is personal preference | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vibelladonna · 2 days ago

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✑ 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓇 𝓀𝒾𝓃𝓀𝓈 𝜗𝜚 𝓈𝑜𝓁 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒸𝓇𝑜𝓌𝑒

· ─────── ⋆⋅ 🝣 ⋅⋆ ─────── ·

Didn't expect me to write more about Sol, did you? Honestly, I needed to do more research into his character, after all, since I kinda ignored him in the game as soon as Crowe showed up. Like, no wonder he did what he thought he had to do.

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔: 18+ NO KIDS (Adults Only) This content contains mature themes unsuitable for children. Please respect the creator's intentions.

I mixed a bit of canon and my headcanons for Crowe and Sol in this one—yep, once again! This time, I kept it focused on just four kinks to keep it short and sweet. I'm still learning about the BDSM community, and honestly, it's been really eye-opening.

A close friend (college roommate: adding on the fact she adores Sol—Sorry not sorry, love) of mine has been super helpful, sharing and explaining things about the BDSM scene to add more depth to my writing.

A lot of my inspiration comes from her, along with the Tumblr fanfic community and the original creator's work. I try to blend what feels true to the characters while throwing in my own twist. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Starting, I’ve noticed that TKATB fans have their unique preferences when it comes to Sol or Crowe.

For example, fans who gravitate toward Sol tend to enjoy the idea of him being dominant—whether it’s being in control of him or just envisioning him taking charge. It’s that mix of power and intensity that gets people excited. You know who you are, you freaks!

On the other hand, fans of Crowe are drawn to his reliability, his deep understanding, and his caring nature. He’s willing to guide you through anything, offering both emotional support and strength. It’s comforting, isn’t it? And yes, I’m a freak too—I get it.

✑ 𝒸𝓇𝑜𝓌𝑒

Naturally, I had to start with my man—Jericho, or Crowe, as he's known. He exudes a mysterious, almost savior-like presence, though the details are still unclear. I WANNA KNOW SO BAD.

His style is effortlessly sharp, and his quiet confidence makes him instantly trustworthy. Reliable, steady, and composed, Crowe is the perfect support when life feels overwhelming. His charm is subtle, blending good looks with an alluring personality—irresistible, without ever being flashy.

Now, let’s address the question: Can you see Crowe as kinky?

At first glance, no. Not. To a stranger, he’s too put together, with not even the faintest hint of anything unconventional beneath the surface. But as you get to know him, that answer begins to shift. Slowly, subtly, he reveals a side of himself that hints at complexity—an edge just beneath his polished exterior. However, don’t expect anything extreme or overtly wild.

What he does reveal is never too much but always just enough to leave you captivated—and maybe, just maybe, a little curious.

✑ Vanilla (Soft Dom…)

For Crowe preferences!

He's the ultimate soft, warm partner. Like, you just know he's all about the quiet, comforting vibes. No crazy power dynamics or rough kinks—he's all about that steady, affectionate love. It's Vanilla, but in the best way possible, full of layers. He’s not rushing anything, just enjoying the little things, taking his time, and making sure you feel heard and cherished.

When you're with him, it's all slow and gentle—he’s not here for intense extremes. His love is patient, thoughtful, and wrapped in warmth. Every touch, every word, is like a soft caress, just so deliberate and tender.

And honestly? There's no need for anything crazy. Crowe's happy to explore your connection, build that trust, and just savor the passion that grows naturally between you two. It's the kind of love that builds and lingers long after.

Now… Crowe might be a soft dom—nah he IS A SOFT DOM.

Crowe’s not the type to push you past your limits just for the thrill of it. He’s not into playing mind games or testing how far he can take things. No, Crowe’s power is the quiet kind, the kind that makes you feel safe without even having to try. He knows the real strength is in taking care of someone, not in forcing them into anything they’re not ready for.

When you’re with him, it’s like he’s always tuned into you, always listening, always aware of exactly what you need. He’s the guy who doesn’t take, but gives—gives you everything he can, with a level of care that’s almost overwhelming. And even though he’s gentle, don’t get it twisted—he’s still a tease. He’s the kind of man who’ll leave marks on your skin, a subtle reminder that you're his. But it's all in the way he leads, in that steady hand that takes yours, guiding you through every little moment.

There’s nothing loud about Crowe—other than his moans and whining. I SWEAR he has pretty moans.

He doesn’t demand anything and doesn’t rush you, but he has this way of making you feel like you’re the only person in the room. When he touches you, it’s with a confidence that leaves you breathless but also comforted. He’ll press his forehead against yours, his hand guiding yours down to your stomach, just so you can feel his bulge inside you,how much he wants you, how much he’s thinking about you at that moment.

There’s no need for words—just that connection, that intense eye contact that says everything.

But yeah, he’ll also let you think you have the upper hand for a minute. Let you believe you’ve got him cornered, like you're finally taking control… only for him to flip the switch, regaining control without you even realizing.

With Crowe, it’s not about begging or pleading for pleasure—it’s about your happiness, your satisfaction. His version of dominance is the kind that wraps around you like a warm blanket, soft and cozy. He just wants to see you smile, hear you laugh—moan, and whine under him, and know that every moment spent with him is full of happiness.

So, if you're into a soft dom who values deep emotional connection, tenderness, and affection, Crowe’s your man! He just wants you to trust him, to let go and let him care for you. Let him be there for you in every single way, in every moment.

And in that, he gives you all the security you’ll ever need.

✑ Praise (giving + receiving)

Crowe is all about Praise, and affection through words. Imagine him pulling you close, whispering in your ear while his fingers gently trace patterns along your skin.

“You’re such a good girl for me, look at how well you take me, love. That’s my girl, always so ready for me, aren’t you?” His words make you feel safe, wanted, and cherished.

He doesn’t wait for you to ask for reassurance—he gives it freely, letting you know how much he appreciates having you around, and how much he loves seeing you smile. And when it comes to your body? He knows every inch of it like he’s got a personal map of your every curve and spot. He might even joke, “No one will ever know you like I do. I’ve ruined you for everyone else, haven’t I?”

Crowe has this vibe about him, like he’s always hungry to make sure you're feeling amazing, but don’t forget to show him some love, too. He thrives on hearing you praise him, especially when you whisper how much you need him, and how much he’s doing for you. The sound of your voice, the words you say—they get to him, melt him down until his heart's pounding.

Now and then, he’ll pull back, checking in on you, “You okay? Am I pushing you too far?” It’s not just about the rush for him. He wants you to be comfortable, to be in sync with him as he takes you through everything, slow and steady, giving you all that love. “That’s it, you're doing so well,” he’ll say, his voice smooth like syrup, making sure you know you're adored.

But here’s the thing: if you keep praising him, or if you’re the one in control, just wait. Crowe’s mouth? It’ll get filthy. AND I MEAN FILTHY. He can’t help it, don't be mean now...

I mean, you can. You giving him head? Taking his cock deep inside your throat, feeling he's about to cum, then you pulled back, teasing him. He'll say, "Please, my love, you were doing so good on my cock—please, please, keep going, I need that tongue of yours."

One of his favorite things is when you’re so into it that he can just forget what you say and speak directly to you, but in a way that’ll make your body react before your mind even catches up. Like, he’ll whisper, “God, you taste so damn good. Missed me, huh? Just wanna be filled up, don't you?”

His words drip against you, his eyes dark with heat, like he's speaking to your body, not even acknowledging your moans. “Such a good fucking pussy. Always making me feel so damn good. Want me to stuff you full, hm?”

And when it’s all done? Crowe doesn’t just drop it and move on. He’s got aftercare down to an art. He’ll guide you through it, keep you close, making sure you’re okay, settled, and cared for, getting ready to do it all again whenever you’re ready!

✑ Experimentalist

Crowe is the kind of man who never wants to leave any stone unturned, especially when it comes to experiences.

There was something about him that screamed experimentalist—like he needed to try everything, no matter how wild or unconventional. When it came to relationships, he was always up for anything, which meant he'd probably had more relationship experiences than most people you knew.

His mind is open, impossibly so, and he had an insatiable curiosity that could never be satisfied. He’d never form an opinion on something without diving in and getting his first-hand taste. If there was something new to try, something out-of-the-box—Crowe was there, ready to explore.

And honestly? He didn’t even need you to ask twice. If you suggested something wild, he’d be all in—his enthusiasm infectious, his curiosity never-ending.

However, he's pretty vanilla when it comes to experimenting, so don't expect him to go TOO hardcore. If there's a kink suited to his taste and he masters it? Oh, Babe, you'll feel it—so much in fact.

Take ropes, for example. Blindfolds? Handcuffs? Oh, he is intrigued. But, again, don’t expect anything brutal. He isn't the type to be into floggers or paddles; no, pain isn't needed for his skills. It is his anticipation. The slow burn of him carefully tying you up, not in a rush, but with the kind of patience that made every moment last longer.

When his hands hovered over your skin, it wasn’t just touch—it was electric. He’d make sure to linger, let his fingers graze over every inch, just enough to make you shiver, your breath hitching in the air between you. It wasn’t about hurting you, not at all. No, it was all about the build-up—the moment when the ropes or restraints were placed just so, tightening the tension between you both until it was practically unbearable.

And then? When you finally let go, it was a release so sweet and steady that it left you breathless. No rushing, no quick fixes—just a slow, fulfilling pleasure.

Adding on, Crowe loved the idea of restraint. Whether for fun, for art, or for that extra little spark of excitement, there was something about having you completely at his mercy.

And if you ever flipped the script? If he was the one getting tied up? Like I said, Crowe will be just as filthy when he lets his guard down.

✑ Dacryphillia

Okay, hear me out. I know what you’re thinking—"Crowe? He would never hurt me. Why would he want to see me cry?" And I get it, really. This is one of those wild ideas but just stick with me for a second.

You know how he’s all about emotions and deep connections, right? Get it?

He gets this deep fascination with what you feel and show, especially when it’s raw. Here’s where it gets interesting: Dacryphilia. Yeah, I’m talking about that thing where someone gets... well, aroused by tears, by the sound of you sobbing, the whole mess of emotions.

So, let’s imagine this: You’re begging him, pleading for more. Your face is a mess of emotions, eyes watery, tears rolling down your cheeks. And yeah, he’s gonna ask if you’re okay because that’s the kind of man he is—always checking, always making sure. But if you keep begging for more? Oh, that’s when it gets dangerous.

Each desperate plea of yours, each tremor in your voice, just fuels this fire inside him, an all-consuming fire. His eyes? They’re practically glowing, deep blue, and locked on you like he's drowning in you, in every little thing you’re feeling.

You can feel him there, so close you can almost taste his breath on your skin. His lips brush against your ear, a soft, teasing whisper sending shivers down your spine. "So desperate for me already, huh? We haven’t even gotten to the fun part yet..." His voice is low, and dangerous, like he’s savoring every second of this.

You know he’s enjoying this. Every inch of him is hooked, and once he has you like this, there’s no going back.

Crowe’s could be teasing you for what feels like hours, driving you wild with a mix of pleasure and frustration. He’s pulled every bit of sensation from you, your body trembling with each orgasm, each touch—until you’re left aching for more. You’ve come undone on his fingers, his tongue, but now, you’re desperate in a way that makes your chest ache. You need him, inside of you, filling you up, but he’s holding back. Just barely, he brushes against you, grinning at the whine that slips from your lips.

His head teases your entrance, and you can’t stop yourself from begging, voice shaky, "Please... Please, please." You repeated. Tears burn at the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision as they fall helplessly. The emptiness without him feels unbearable.

Crowe tilted his head, the smirk on his face practically dripping with playful mockery. “Just please?” He dragged the word out slowly, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Tell me what you want. Can’t do anything unless you say it. What is it you’re begging for?” His hand slid up your stomach, hand pushing lightly as if testing the waters.

He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear, the playful glint in his eyes shifting into something darker, more calculating. “You want me to fill you up, don’t you?”

His grin stretched wider as you stumbled over your words, desperate and disordered, pleading for more. He could tell you were unraveling, and it only pushed him further, each whimper was like a small victory.

“You’re falling apart, love,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. “Don’t worry, I’ll give you what you need... just say the word.” You could barely focus as the desperation built into your chest. His control over you was unnerving, yet exhilarating. The tears on your cheeks were a mix of frustration and need, a silent scream for him.

“I need you, Crowe. Please...” Your voice was broken, but he was the one who was in control, studying the way you reacted like a willing experiment.

Crowe’s hand lifts gently to your cheek, his thumb brushing away the tears streaming down your face. He gives you a soft grin, his voice low and teasing. “Already crying for me, huh?” he murmurs, almost amused. His thumb, slick with your tears, slips past your lips, letting you taste the salty remnants of your emotions. "We’ve just started," he adds, a soft chuckle escaping him.

Before you can respond, his hips jerk forward, pushing into you with one swift, forceful motion. The shock of it makes your breath catch, and Crowe can’t help but smirk, his eyes glinting with that dangerous, experimental gleam.

Every move, calculated and deliberate, is part of his twisted exploration. And you? You’re the willing subject.

✑ 𝓈𝑜𝓁

Sol is described as a “stinky basement-dwelling yandere”—ngl, this alone made me laugh. He’s a quiet kid, the one who lingered at the edges of every room, observing, never quite fitting in.

Beneath his reserved exterior was a complexity most couldn’t fathom. He’s incredibly smart, with a sharpness that slipped through his words when he spoke, though he rarely bothered to. His talents leaned toward the arts, paintings, and writings.

And yet, at the end of the day, Sol isn’t exactly smooth. He was hopelessly inexperienced when it came to relationships. He gets no bitches, and honestly, he probably doesn’t even try. But in his inexperience is a certain rawness, and once you did get to know him, he’ll flirt or charm you. But before, he just watched and wanted.

Now, let’s address the question: Can you see Sol as kinky?

Yes, let’s not sugarcoat it—he is kinky asf. Of course, he is. There was no way someone as quiet and repressed as Sol didn’t have a horny side, one he tried to keep buried but couldn’t fully hide due to his love for you.

✑ Switch (A Pervert…)

Now, about Sol’s... preferences.

From reading his relationship information card and playing the game. He is a paradox, a Switch in every sense of the word. He didn’t neatly fit into the mold of “always dominant” or “forever submissive.” Oh no, that would be far too mundane for someone like him. He's not a standard yandere people.

Sol is a man of extremes, a “pervert” in the most endearing, shameless sense of the word. He believed in living freely, without the shackles of societal expectations or traditional constraints. Ethics, morality, conventional roles—he’d toss them aside without hesitation if they stood in the way of his desires.

When he takes the reins as Dominant, Sol is the type to lean into theatrics, pushing boundaries with a devilish grin and that mischievous gleam in his eyes. He had a talent for making the experience unforgettable, for making you feel as though the entire world had melted away, leaving only the two of you. But when the tables turned, when Sol found himself in the more submissive role, he’d throw himself into it with equal fervor.

He’d challenge you to prove your worth, tease and push until you stepped up to the plate, and then—when you finally did—he’d surrender so completely that it'll feel like a victory worth savoring.

To Sol, sex and relationships weren’t just about power dynamics or tradition. They were a playground for exploration, a place where the only rule was to follow what felt right. With his “anything goes” mentality, Sol turned every interaction into a kaleidoscope of passion and unpredictability.

As mentioned, Sol, can’t help himself when it comes to you.

Let’s say he has this thing—Voyeuristic Disorder, to be precise, a fancy word for being a pervert. Dosn't care to see anyone else naked. Only you he wishes to see. He was obsessed with watching you, whether you knew it or not. In public or private, it didn’t matter.

He just liked being there, lurking in the shadows, soaking in every moment. Watching you do the most intimate things, completely unaware that he was there.

There was something so exhilarating about seeing you—your bare skin, the way you moved, the little things you did when you thought no one was watching. He couldn’t resist. The way your body reacted, the sounds you made when you didn’t know he was there—it was all he needed.

Deadass, I’m shocked that the creator of the game never added a specific scene where you were taking care of yourself in bed—you freak, oblivious to him sneaking a peek from the window, his hand on his cock, jacking himself off, doing exactly what he does best. Watching.

He didn’t let societal norms dictate how he expressed himself or who he loved. He was unapologetically himself—messy, chaotic, and a little too intense for most people’s taste. But for those brave enough to step into his world, you, well, if you picked him, that is.

Sol will offer an experience unlike any other: one filled with unrelenting honesty, unbridled passion, and a love that refuses to be anything less than extraordinary.

✑ Praise (Receiving)

Sol isn't the type of man you’d peg as desperate for validation—at least, not at first glance. His sharp, confident exterior gave the impression of someone who had the world at his feet, who didn’t flinch under pressure or crack beneath judgmental stares.

But peel back the layers of this supposed nonchalant and cool type of man, and you’d find a truth that was much more human, much more raw. Sol craved praise. Why? Perhaps it was the lack of it throughout his life. His track record for romance was, let’s say, less than impressive. Not because he lacked charm or good looks—he had both in spades—but because his overbearing aura and unapologetic eccentricities tended to drive most people away.

They didn’t understand him, couldn’t see past the way he challenged conventions. He wore his "loser" title like armor. After all, who cared if he didn’t have admirers lined up at his door? He didn’t need anyone... right? Yet, when someone, such as you, did manage to offer him an honest compliment, something sincere, it was like watching a dam break.

His confident smirk would falter for a second, his eyes softening, betraying the vulnerability he worked so hard to conceal. Sol wasn’t accustomed to receiving love—real, genuine love—and when it came, it hit him like a truck

✑ Masochist

The first time you noticed Sol’s tendency to endure pain, you’d thought it was just his stubborn nature. He’s always been the type to wear his emotions on his sleeve when it came to you—raw, unfiltered, and unapologetically vulnerable. But as time went on, you began to see something deeper beneath that tough, rebellious exterior.

Sol wasn’t just someone who endured pain; he seemed to embrace it…? almost thrive on it, especially when it comes to you.

Sol is, without a doubt, a masochist. Not in the twisted, sadistic sense, but in an almost heartbreaking way. He’d do anything to please you, to earn your attention—even if it meant enduring the unendurable.

He could never be a sadist. No, he loved you too much to ever inflict pain on you, physically or emotionally. The very thought of hurting you would make his stomach churn. Instead, he channeled all his devotion into being by your side, no matter the cost.

There were moments when his tendencies became painfully obvious. Like he gets into fights back to back, defending himself or you—for example, the movie theater bathroom or the Campus library (With or without.)

You hadn’t/have even been there to witness it—Sol hadn’t wanted you to see him like that, bruised and bloody. But when you found out later, he brushed it off with that crooked grin of his, the one that hid just how far he’d go for you. “It’s nothing,” he’d said, wiping the blood from his lip. “They deserved it for talking about you like that.”

Or that time with Crowe. It had been an innocent moment, just you laughing at something Crowe said, but to Sol, it might as well have been a dagger to his chest. He clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white, nails digging into his palms until they drew blood. He didn’t want to feel that way—jealousy mixed with self-loathing—but he couldn’t help it. Watching you walk away with someone else, even for a moment, was unbearable.

It wasn’t that he enjoyed the pain; it was just that he could handle it, even when it tore him apart inside.

And in the quiet, intimate moments, Sol’s masochistic streak became something else entirely. If you picked him willingly, He’ll trust you, and loved you, enough to let down every last defense he had. He didn’t just endure pain; with you, he could find meaning in it.

A sharp bite, nails dragging down his back—he shivered under your touch, his body responding in ways he didn’t fully understand but didn’t question. For him, it wasn’t just about the sensation; it was about the connection, the way it brought him closer to you.

Masochism, for Sol, wasn’t about pain tolerance. It wasn’t about how much he could take. It was about the way he found a strange, twisted kind of comfort in it. The pain wasn’t the point; it was the context, the giver—you. Sol would never seek out pain for its own sake, but if it was for you, if it meant being close to you, he’d endure anything.

Even in the game, he seemed to attract hardship like a magnet, always the one taking the hits—physically and emotionally. Whether it was the bullies who thought he was an easy target or the way he seemed to hurt himself just to prove his devotion to you, Sol carried it all with a quiet, unshakable resolve. Because, at the end of the day, it wasn’t about the pain. It was about you.

And he’d never stop. For Sol, loving you wasn’t just a choice—it was a part of who he was. If being close to you meant enduring the worst the world could throw at him, he’d take it all with a smile. Because that’s who Sol is. A damn masochist.

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

✑ Somnophillia

It was inevitable, wasn’t it? Everyone could see this coming from a mile away—there was simply no other possibility. Sol, in all his twisted complexity, had long blurred the line between obsession and affection, his love taking on forms most would never dare to comprehend.

Some might accuse him of holding darker urges, like necrophilia, drawn to the lifelessness of the dead. But no, that isn’t Sol. Despite his obsessions, there was a deep-rooted sentimentality within him—a refusal to let go, to lose. If anything, he had made it clear in his own hauntingly poetic way: he’d rather die with you than live without you.

Yet, that didn’t mean his desires were any less unnerving. No, Sol’s particular brand of affection manifested in somnophilia, a fascination with the vulnerability of sleep, the beauty of your unconscious form. To him, those moments were sacred—your body relaxed, your mind adrift in dreams. It was when he felt closest to you, unguarded and free from the chaos of the waking world.

Before your relationship, it started innocuously enough—or so it seemed. He’d find ways to end up at your apartment, invited by some pretense or perhaps even through sheer charisma. And then, ever so subtly, he’d lace your drink with something to make you drowsy, to keep you from suspecting as his fingers ghosted on you.

You lay there, utterly still, utterly serene, your chest rising and falling with the kind of peaceful rhythm that seemed to still the chaos of the world around you.

It was maddening, the way you looked so untouched by the noise that haunted him, your lips slightly parted, the barest whisper of breath escaping them. Every exhale was a siren call, soft and unassuming, but it gripped him like a vice.

His gaze wandered, helplessly drawn down the curve of your cheek to your lips. They looked soft, and inviting in a way that felt almost cruel. He wanted to press his own to them, to taste whatever peace you’d found and see if he could borrow just a fraction of it for himself.

But it wasn’t just your lips. His eyes traced lower, following the lines of your body, the way your clothes clung to you, hinting at the form beneath. He shouldn’t be thinking like this—he knew he shouldn’t. And yet the thought of you, warm and pliant beneath him, invaded his mind, unrelenting.

He swallowed hard, trying to shake it off, but the more he fought, the more vivid the thoughts became. The sound of your soft sighs, the way you’d move under his touch, how you’d look at him—not like this, not sleepily and unaware, but awake, wanting.

God, he was losing it.

Sol leaned back, running a hand through his hair, forcing his gaze away from you for a moment. But it didn’t matter—your image was burned into his mind, and there was no escape. Watching you sleep was his guilty pleasure, though his guilt barely lasted long enough to stop him from pressing further.

Once the two of you were together, the dynamics shifted, but only slightly. Sol’s obsession deepened, and the lines of consent became more of a gray haze in his mind. To him, love was devotion—complete and all-encompassing. And if you loved him, shouldn’t you accept him entirely? Shouldn’t you trust him to care for you, even when you weren’t awake to see it?

He was careful, always so careful with you, so don’t worry!

His lips found their way to the sensitive curve of your inner thigh, his movements slow and deliberate as if savoring every second of this quiet moment. You stirred faintly, a sleepy whimper escaping your lips as the warmth of his mouth brushed against you, teasing and tender.

Sol’s hands gripped your hips gently but firmly; his fingers splayed across your skin to hold you in place. You tried to shift, your body instinctively responding to the soft, wet pressure of his tongue on your needy cunt, but his strength was unyielding.

“Shh,” he murmured, his voice a low, gravelly whisper in the stillness. One hand slid up to brush a stray lock of hair from your face, his thumb lingering for a moment as he marveled at the serene expression you wore, so unaware of the devotion he poured into every touch. “You’re even more beautiful like this,” he breathed, his words an intimate confession meant only for the dark.

To Sol, this meant everything.

This was the essence of love itself—intimacy beyond words, a bond that transcended anything others could hope to understand. He wasn't like anyone else; he knew that, and perhaps that’s what made this feel so special. So sacred. There was a quiet possessiveness in the way he worshiped you, a deep yearning to etch himself into every corner of your being, to ensure no one else could ever touch the part of you that belonged to him.

And as you stirred again, a soft moan escaping your lips, Sol smirked against your skin, the faintest edge of smug satisfaction curling at the corner of his mouth. You might not fully wake, but you’d feel him—his touch, his adoration, eventually his cock. You’d know, even in sleep, that you were his world.

To be with him, you’d have to accept all of him. Every tender smile, every soft whisper... and every shadowed obsession that came with it.

· ─────── ⋆⋅ 🝣 ⋅⋆ ─────── ·

#the kid at the back x reader #the kid at the back crowe #the kid at the back sol #solivan brugmansia #jericho ichabod #tkatb #tkatb crowe #tkatb sol #the kid at the back vn #crowe ichabod #crowe x reader #sol x reader #sol brugmansia #tkatb vn #tkatb smut

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dorabellingham · 1 day ago

Text

Long distance

warning: none

characters: jude x reader

summary: when your long-distance relationship is going through a turbulent time, but you do everything to understand each other

request: yes!

may contain spelling and translation errors!

The months passed quickly, and despite the distance, you and Jude tried to stay connected. He was in Madrid, living the peak of his career, with intense training, games and constant travel, while you, in another country, focused on your college year. The distance was testing your limits, but so far, you seemed to be able to keep the flame alive. However, there were times, like this one, when you felt that something wasn't right.

It was a cold Thursday night, and you were at home, after another long week of studies and commitments. You looked at your phone, checking if you had any messages from Jude. You saw that he had sent you a good night message, as he always did when you weren't talking in person, but when you opened the screen, you saw that he was busy with something and couldn't answer at those times. It was something common, but that night, a feeling of emptiness hit you even harder. You tried to be understanding. You knew that Jude was at a decisive moment in his career and that football demanded a lot of his time. However, you couldn’t help but feel alone. The long-distance relationship was getting hard to sustain. You always tried your best to be patient, but you also had your own emotional needs, and as much as you loved your boyfriend, you couldn’t hide the fact that you were feeling neglected. That night, instead of just texting him that you were fine, you sat on your bed and decided to write something more sincere. You knew you had to be honest with him, no matter how hard it was.

"Jude, I know you’re super busy and I don’t want to be a burden, but… sometimes I feel like you’re so distant. Not physically, of course, but emotionally. I understand how much football takes out of you, but I also need you here, you know? And there are days when I really feel like I’m doing this all by myself. I don’t want to be demanding, but can you help me understand what’s going on? I just don’t want to feel invisible.”

You hesitated a little before hitting send, but you knew you had to say it. You didn’t want the frustration to build up to the point where it could harm their relationship. Instead, you preferred to get things sorted out while there was still time.

A few minutes later, your phone vibrated. It was a text from Jude.

“Sweetie, I’m sorry if I left you feeling this way. I really didn’t mean to. You know how grateful I am for everything you’ve done for us. I can’t deny that I’m completely focused on my work, but that will never be more important than you. I love you and I’m struggling to find balance. I want you to know that I need you here too, more than you know. Let’s talk about this when you can.”

You felt an immediate sense of relief. You knew he wasn’t trying to push you away, but the feeling of being neglected hurt you deeply. You took a deep breath and sent a reply.

“I love you, Jude. I know it’s hard for you too, and I don’t mean to be selfish. Just… please don’t make me feel like I’m an option when you already have so much going on. I just need to know that I’m still important to you, even with all this crazy schedule you have.”

Your phone vibrated again.

“You’ll always be my priority, Y/n. I’m just trying to organize myself so that we can be together as much as possible. I don’t want you to feel that way, no way. Let’s figure it out. Give me some time and we’ll plan something together, something just for us, so you can see how important you are to me. I promise I’ll try to make this easier for you. I’m not going to give up on us.”

You smiled, feeling a soft relief this time. You knew that, despite the distance and the challenges, the love between you were still strong. You were still learning to deal with the situation, and that was something natural, something that many long-distance relationships face.

A few hours later, you finally received a call from Jude. The sound of his voice calmed you down immediately, and you closed your eyes as you listened to him speak, knowing that, despite the pressure and the distance, you still belonged together.

—Babe, I just wanted to hear from you. I was thinking about how we can improve this. Maybe I should call you more often, or even text you more when I know you need me.

You interrupted him softly, with a light laugh.

—I’m not the type of person to complain, but sometimes I feel like I’m trying too hard to be strong on my own. And yes, a more frequent message would make me feel more present. I know you’re doing your best, Jude. It’s just that sometimes the best seems so far away, darling.

Jude sighed, as if he was relieved to finally hear your truth. He could feel the weight of your words, and it touched him deeply.

—I understand. And I’m going to do it. I’m going to be more present. Because you deserve it. You deserve to know that I’m completely yours, even if the distance tries to separate us. I’m going to make things work, because you’re the most important thing in my life.

You smiled at his words. The feeling of warmth was almost instantaneous. You had had a difficult conversation, but a necessary conversation, and that was the most important thing. You didn’t want to be neglected, but you didn’t want to be selfish either. You just wanted to be with him, by his side, even if that meant you had to adjust a little.

—I love you, Jude. I’m here for you too, always. And I know that in the end, everything will work out. We’ll get through this together.

He was silent for a moment before answering.

—I love you more, babe. And I’m going to show you that I can be better for both of us.

That night, even though you were miles apart, you and Jude felt closer than ever. Your conversation was a reminder that despite the hardships of distance and Jude’s career, what really mattered was your commitment to each other. You weren’t giving up. You were simply learning to be better in your relationship, day by day.

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bossuary · 1 day ago

Text

Neve is painless. Rook is real.

Lucanis likes Neve because she represents what he is desperate to regain. He wants to feel normal, to work and cook and focus on the things he used to enjoy (such as they were) before the Ossuary. He wants capital R Romance, right out of a book.

Most importantly, he wants to get rid of Spite. He wants to pretend that he is the man he was...not this abomination.

Without truly knowing her, Lucanis believes Neve is a pathway to all of that. He's attracted to her, and she to him. Their flirting has an edge, but it's also friendly. She dislikes Spite, and her presence makes Spite disappear.

Neve will tell Lucanis that he's still himself, and that Spite doesn't change that. She will never be the one to reconcile Lucanis with Spite, to get them to accept each other. So, yeah, he gravitates to the charming, flirty, warm person who (through no fault of her own, really) feeds his desire to pretend he's not an abomination.

Even early on, I think he's smart enough to know that accepting Spite is his only option, but he...just... can't. With what tools? Nothing in his life has prepared him to deal with this. Rook does that. When denial tears Lucanis apart, Rook puts him back together with acceptance. Rook accepts the reality of Spite, and deals with it head-on every time.

Neve will remind Lucanis that she's not going anywhere. She'll tell him to open his eyes and look at facts, but she (probably) won't be the one to push him out of his own prison. Lucanis knows this, so Spite knows this, and therefore Spite will not look to Neve for help.

It's important for Lucanis to accept that Spite has changed him. But when it's Rook who says it--for whom Lucanis has developed real feelings, not idealized ones--well, it destroys the fantasy Lucanis clings to so vehemently, the one where he isn't this.

For me, the Lucanis/Rook romance feels the way it does NOT because the writers "preferred" that Lucanis and Neve get together, but because Neve is simply easier for Lucanis to accept. She's easier to talk to, unchallenging. Easy isn't bad! Comfort isn't bad! God knows they both deserve some comfort.

Loving Rook is a profoundly complex choice. There's not a lot of cute ways to work that profundity into sexy banter. It makes sense, then, that Lucanis doesn't have as much dialogue for a romanced Rook as he does with Neve. What he can do is cook, make small gestures. He can, heartbreakingly, tell Rook, over and over, that he doesn't have the words to express how he feels. That's such an awful state, knowing that the person you care about needs to hear words you simply cannot locate. As soon as he does have the words, he shares them.

Rook is real. And real is not easy.

To Lucanis, Rook represents a difficult path to recovery, a path he has to keep choosing to follow, every day. At a time in his life where he is incapable of seeing Spite (and his own PTSD ) as anything but a 'distraction' to shove aside, Rook shows genuine interest in helping Lucanis heal. Rook takes consistent action toward that goal, particularly when it's clear that Lucanis doesn't know how.

Lucanis also has to believe that he's worth the effort, his own and his love's. Neve is great, love her, but I don't see this struggling cynic, this chronic worrier, being very helpful in the self-worth department. No, people in a relationship do not have to perform therapeutic roles. But, partners do have to respect each others' boundaries and needs.

Of course Lucanis goes all-in for Neve, romantically, even while he and Rook are dancing around each other. Accepting how much he loves and cares for Rook means looking at himself the way Rook does. That is so much harder than whatever will happen with Neve.

The fact that Lucanis isn't afraid to pursue Neve, even if Treviso is blighted, tells me that Neve is an indulgence for him. Again, that's not a value judgement. If they treat each other with respect, then the merits of the relationship don't have to fall on whether Lucanis 'heals' as a result. Sometimes not hurting all the time is enough.

BUT. Contrast the ease he feels with Neve with his feelings about Rook:

"When I was afraid to want you..."

That is a powerful admission.

What was he afraid of? The annihilation of neglect, worthlessness, and shame. The awful but knowable pillars of his existence.

Wanting Rook means that Lucanis wants to dismantle everything he knows in pursuit of something he doesn't. To love Rook is to love and accept himself, exactly as he is.

Then...then...Lucanis finds real comfort.

#datv #lucanis dellamorte #neve gallus #datv spoilers #i have a lot of feelings about my own shitty reactions to the neve/lucanis romance. and approaching it this way has helped. A LOT.

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mj0702 · 6 hours ago

Text

What could've been

So this is a small one shot about BB not getting injured and how I imagined it would've gone... I hope you enjoy it and if you have any questions feel free to ask me anytime – it might take me a day or two to reply but please feel free to send in your asks

Lucy knew you would be the greatest player that ever set a foot on the pitch. She watched you grow up training with her. You could barely hold your balance but you were able to kick a ball. Lucy immediately saw the potential you had. You were a rough diamond. Every time you saw a ball you toddled over as quickly as you could falling over three or more times before getting there but the moment you were close enough you just kicked it away laughing happily toddling after it again. Your sister watched with pride how you developed through your kid years until City picked up on your talent. You were just short of your sixth birthday when City asked Lucy for a meeting. They told her they saw you kicking about with her after a game and kept an eye on you and they were very happy with what they saw. Your sister agreed quickly to bring you in one day for a trail training day. So you were 5 Years, 354 days and 7 hours old when Lucy pulled your first City jersey over your head. Even tho it was just a trainings jersey and it was two sizes too big for your small frame you and her sported the same proud look. Hers was more noticeable than yours but you copied her anyway. The girls you had to play with were older and bigger than you so your first session didn't go as well as Lucy hoped. You got pushed around a lot. Your body more on the ground than not and at one point your sister thought about pulling you out but Trainer told her to leave it. She was right – every time you got pushed over you stood back up running after the ball. You were a true Bronze. Competitive to no end. Tough – not only was it your name it was also your personality. One of the girls tackled you hard and it took you a moment longer to get up Lucy already on her way over when your new trainer stopped her

“You're worse than any soccer mom” your trainer rolled her eyes pulling Lucy back by her jacket

“That little.... girl... fouled my sister... hard... that should've been a yellow” your sister gestured upset towards the field

“We don't have cards here” Linda deadpanned

“Well... then start using them” Lucy said upset “... they have to learn at some point... start young... so they know what's going on”

“Lucy... I understand you're nervous...” your trainer started

“I'm not nervous” your sister interrupted defensive

“You are a wreck...” Linda rolled her eyes again “.... your sister is good... by far better than anyone I've seen so far... she'll come far... but you have to let her do it herself...”

“That's my baby sister out there” Lucy growled “... I will make sure that little.... …. girl.... won't ever set foot on a pitch again if she fouls my sister again”

“Well... that's not how it works around here” your trainer said calm “... stop being overbearing... y/n will learn to deal with fouls”

Spoiler alert – Lucy and you both dealt with fouls the same... not well at all. You were always the first in a Refs face while your sister preferred to get into players faces.

With 12 you were invited to train with the senior squad the first time. Again Lucy was proud her chest puffed out when her trainer informed her that you would join the squad next week to see how you could keep up. You whined the whole way home to Keira to keep Lucy in check because your sister was so embarrassing. Keira just chuckled and promised to do her best but you both knew that it was useless. Just like the first time your sister pulled your first senior jersey over your head smiling widely.

“Luuuuccyyyy” you whined ashamed

“What...” Lucy asked pulling the jersey over your head “... we have to keep the tradition going”

“I'm old enough to dress meself....” you tried to push her away but it was no use

“It's tradition...” your sister grumbled as she tried to duck away from flailing arms

“You can't keep doing that” you whined again “... it's embarrassing”

“I don't care...” Lucy huffed grabbing your arm trying to get it through the sleeve

“Lucyyy...” you whined pulling against her grip

“Stop it...” your sister grumbled

“Keiraaaaaa....” you cried out for help only get met with an amused looking face from your sister girlfriend

“Sorry Bits...” Keira smirked “... she told me she will do it no matter what and I sat the stakes high...”

“I'm abstaining something very important for you....” Lucy mumbled as she finally got you into the trainings shirt

“Jesus...” you groaned “... why would you tell me stuff like that?!”

“Because I love you” your sister grinned “... now come on... show em how good you are”

You were 15 years, 300 days and 15 hours old when you played your first WSL game. It was against Brighton and you came on for Alex Greenwood who looked like a proud mother when she jogged over sending you into your first game in the 73rd minute. Lucy made Alana swap positions so she was standing next to you playing centre back instead of right back and you realized pretty quickly that first – Lucy was shit as a centre back and secondly... you weren't a defender. Your runs pushed high into the midfield and together with Keira you created chance after chance for Hempo, White and Raso. Even for Georgia – the new girl. She was nice but you couldn't really say anything else about her. Except for that she idolizes your sister and tried to copy her as good as possible which you found weird. It was just Lucy... if that girl wanted to idolize someone, she should pick someone good and famous – like... Rapinoe, Sinclair, Renard or Marta. But not Lucy.

“Come on Bubs...” you heard Lucy yell “... head in the game!”

“I'm right next to you you daft goldfish” you shot back pulling a face

“Concentrate” your sister sneered

“We're up 4 – 0.... I could start my French lesson with Kari and it wouldn't make any difference” you started to argue and your sister saw you were bored out of your mind

“It's disrespectful” Lucy said now calmly “... I know you want the big games but you also need the experience first”

“Against Brighton??” you looked at her confused “... if I score a goal from here... can I play against Atletico?”

“No....” your sister shot down your idea “... you'll train and you'll learn and get minutes and experience and THEN you'll get minutes in the big games”

“Keira” you whined stomping your foot

“Kinda busy here Bits” Keira huffed trying to get the ball of an opponent player so you just sprinted towards them getting possession and just belted it away

“Now you’re not...” you said as a matter of fact “... Lucy is mean and I'm bored”

“Bitsy....” your “other mom” looked at you with a blank face “... you just scored”

“Yes, I know...” you shrugged your shoulders “... their defence was off the whole game... there was always enough space between the near post and the backline”

“YOU SCORED!!!” Georgia screamed as she jumped on your back

“And you get off me” you immediately threw her off again “... jumping on me back without knowing me... didn't your parents teach you any manners??”

“Sorry” Georgia mumbled looking like a kicked puppy

“Don't take it personal G...” Keira laughed “... she's grumpy because Lucy apparently said something she didn't like”

“I just thought it was a good goal” the young player mumbled ashamed

“Oh it was... but Bitsy is... special... right now that goal doesn't mean shit to her... she's hung up on her argument with her sister...” Keira squeezed her friends shoulder “... you'll learn that these two are different than other siblings”

“Great goal Bubs” Lucy ruffled your hair smiling “... you still won't start Atletico”

“You suck” you snapped stomping back to your position “... and you suck as a centre back!!”

“One day she'll play for the biggest clubs” your sister looked after you grinning widely

Lucy leaving for Lyon was hard on you. You got used to her presence on the pitch behind you. You got used to her having your back always offering you a hand pulling you back up when you ate grass again. Always being there when you stayed down a second too long. So her moving to France was hard. You understood – kinda. It was good for her career but not good for your head. Keira did what she could to maintain your daily routine as good as possible but alone the drive to the Academy send you into a frenzy most days. Nick noticed your play was off so he put you back on the bench at first and then back into the B-Team. This set you off even more up to the point where you got physically sick every time you needed to go to training. Keira gave Lucy regular updates even telling her that it got worse with you and she didn't know what to do anymore. Your sister your saviour and protector came back to Manchester the first chance she got with the plan to slap some sense into you but when she saw you like a heap of misery hunched over on the couch all her aggression about you throwing away a big chance like this flew out the window

“Bubs...” Lucy said softly not wanting to scare you

“Hm...” you looked up your eyes dull

“Oh Bubs...” your sister sighed pulling you up and against her holding you tightly “... what were you thinking Bubs?”

“You just left” you mumbled emotionless against her shoulder not hugging her back

“We talked about it Bubs...” Lucy kept her voice low “... you're all grown up now and you don't need me anymore...”

“I don't want you to leave” you started to sniffle

“It's okay Bubs...” your sister pressed a kiss to your temple “... I've got a few days off now...”

“Not days Luce...” you were silently crying now “... not leaving”

“It's my job Bubs... you'll understand one day” Lucy sighed noticing how light you became “... we'll get you back on track and then you'll join me in Lyon okay”

“Don't wanna go there” you sniffed

“It's amazing there Bubs... they have so many ways to train... you have to see their gym Bubs... it's like the holy grail...” your sister talked while she gently maneuvered you to the kitchen table “but now we'll get some food into you and then we'll get you to bed, hm?”

It took Lucy all of seven days until she got you to eat small portions again. They were small and even when just a bite too much had you sprinting to the toilet again she was happy with her accomplishment. Five small meals a day. That's what you agreed on – breakfast at 8, then at 11 again, Lunch at 1.30, another small meal at 4 and dinner latest at 7.30. Your sister knew how much you needed your daily routines and she drilled it into Keira to keep those routines. As much as Keira tried after Lucy left you fell into old habits again. Skipping meals, training and meetings. The blonde called your sister completely shattered how she can't watch you kill yourself. Again Lucy jumped on a plane flying back to Manchester. This time tho she went to her girlfriend first telling her that she couldn't have done it without her and whatever happened it's not Keiras fault. Keira cried into Lucys broad shoulder and in the end Lucy stayed the night reassuring her girlfriend over and over again how good she was. The next morning when your sister entered your home you were already gone and much to her annoyance nobody knew where to. It was late at night when Lucy heard the keys open the front door and you entered the house

“Nice for you to join us for Dinner” your sister deadpanned

“What... Mum and Dad called the cavalry to slap some sense into me?” you shot back your voice just as emotionless

“It was actually Keira...” Lucy kept her voice flat

“Hm.... the girlfriend” you hummed finally pulling your shoes off

“What happened to you?” your sister asked bluntly

“I'm growing up Luce... it happens to the best of us” you shrugged wandering over to the fridge looking inside to see your mother left you dinner but you weren't hungry so you just closed the door again

“You are doing fuck all” finally Lucy showed some emotion “... you're killing yourself”

“And in what universe do you care?” you shot back your voice getting louder as well

“That's not fair y/n... you KNOW I care...” your sister getting loud now too “... what the hell is going on with you lately?”

“Whatever” you rolled your eyes pushing past Lucy

“Oh no...” Lucy panted out a laugh “... you are NOT running from me”

“Fuck off Lucy” you sneered as your sister tried to grab your wrist

“Y/n Tough Bronze...” your sister sneered back just as hostile “... tell me NOW what's going on with you?”

“You don't care anyway... go back to France and leave me the fuck alone” you were now full on yelling turning to leave again

“You don't talk to me like that” Lucy yelled following you up the stairs

“What is going on here? It's past midnight” your mum appeared on the hallway

“She wouldn't leave me alone” you exclaimed upset pointing at Lucy

“She JUST came home Mum...” your sister explained “... I just want to know what's going on with her”

“Can you please yell at each other quieter?” your Mum rolled her eyes getting reminded at the situations she already lived through with Lucy and Sophie

“She can just leave me alone and I wouldn't have to say anything at all” you growled shoving Lucy hard who now stood next to you

“Just talk to me” Lucy begged “... I just want to help you”

“THEN GO BACK TO FRANCE AND FUCK OFF.....” you exploded “.... AND WHEN YOU'RE AT IT – PLEASE CRASH ON THE WAY THERE!!!”

Lucy and your Mum stood there frozen as you threw the door shut so hard that two pictures fell off the wall

“Bubs...” your sister looked at the closed door tears pooling in her eyes

“Lucy...” your Mum said softly “... she doesn't mean it... I promise... she's just going through a lot right now...”

“Why does she hate me?” Lucy asked her voice breaking

“She doesn't.... she's a teenager Lucy...” your Mum pulled her eldest daughter into a hug “... there's a lot of change going on lately and you know never was good with changes... Go to bed Love... try again later”

“I don't have time Mum...” your sister cried into her mothers shoulder “... I need to go back tonight”

“You'll find a way Lucy” your Mum kept her voice gentle “... you always did”

“Pack a bag” Lucy all but kicked down your door a few hours later

“What?” you asked sleepy not registering what's happening

“Pack... a... bag” your sister repeated while she opened your curtains “... you have an hour.... if you even think of running... I'm still faster then you”

“Go an fuck off Lucia” you now growled throwing the next best thing at her which was a glass that shattered at the wall behind your sister

“You're coming with me to Lyon” Lucy continued not even fazed by your hostile behaviour “... Mum okay-ed it, I can keep an eye on you and I'll make sure you'll be too tired to even think about fucking up”

“You can't just...” you exclaimed shocked

“Oh but I can...” your sister replied calmly “... 58 Minutes... if you're not done, I'll come back up and pull you out of your room meself”

“I hate you!” you yelled after her as she left you alone again

“I don't care” Lucy yelled back smirking to herself

“Welcome to France” your sister sing songed as you exit the plane

“It's dirty and it smells like a trash pit” you grumbled as Lucy threw her arm around your shoulders

“Stop being grumpy” Lucy chuckled

“I still hate you and I still wished we crashed” you growled

“Hm... yeah... sorry I couldn't help you with that...” your sister kept her voice light and her mood calm “... we're gonna pick up your luggage and then we'll drive to me flat... tomorrow at 8 we have to be at the trainings grounds and you'll come with me.... if you don't come willingly I'll force you”

“You can't...” you snapped

“I can... what you wanna do? Run away? Good luck... they don't speak english here... Book a flight back? Good luck again... you don't have the money and on top you need to be accompanied by an adult...” Lucy gave you a reality check “... oh an the longer you decide to be all twaty the longer you'll stay with me and train here...”

“First chance I get I'll end your career” you growl helplessly

“Come on Bubs...” Lucy yelled from behind you “... keep an eye on the other right winger”

“Well... for what are you there?” you turned around frustrated as Eugénie Le Sommer took the ball off you again

“To get you back in line” your sister smirked and you used a stray ball to belt it towards her missing her by inches

“Tu vas mieux” Wendi smiled ruffling your hair

“No idea what you said but... tu es nul aussi” you shrugged your shoulders making all the French players burst out laughing

“You getting gooder” Wendi laughed

“Gooder is not a word... frog leg” you grumbled

“Lucy... dis-lui qu'elle va bien” Eugénie laughed

“They say you're getting better Bubs...” Lucy smiled her chest puffed out proudly

“They could also learn english... no one speaks French in the world... everyone speaks english...” you grumbled as you started to dribble a little bit

“Stop being so grumpy all the time... they were nice enough to let me bring you here” your sister groaned

“Yeah well... I'm not here by choice” you huffed picking up with your foot volleying it towards the goal

“Bubs please...” Lucy rolled her eyes still haven't figured out what was going on with you

“Please what?” you snapped watching the ball hitting the back off the net

“Just talk to me” your sister said and everyone around slowly but surely stepped back giving you two some space

“What you wanna hear? How alone I felt when you left? How suddenly it wasn't fun anymore to play? How the whole team sucked when you weren't standing behind me anymore? How it feels to hear “... Lucy would do it this way... Lucy would've cleared that ball easily... Lucy was more alert... Lucy Lucy Lucy” all the damn time? How nothing made sense anymore?” it exploded out of you

“Breath” was everything Lucy said fixing you with a stare her hands grabbing your shoulders “Breath Bubs...”

You didn't even realize that you stopped breathing – you just had to get if off your chest. So when Lucy grabbed your shoulders you just shook your head not knowing how to react. Your sister sprang into action shaking you a little bit

“Breath” Lucy said firmly seeing how your face lost colour “Damnit BREATH Bubs”

THAT did the trick and you sucked in a deep breath

“Good... good Bubs” your sister said relieved “... another one... perfect... come on... deep breaths”

“I don't wanna play anymore” you whispered tears springing to your eyes

“If you really don't want to play anymore that's okay Bubs” Lucy pulled you against her hugging you tightly “... it would be a great loss for the football world but it would be okay”

“I don't want to play without you anymore” you started crying your sobs wrecking through your body

“I need to at the moment...” your sister whispered against your hair “... I want to play against you in the Champions League...”

“I don't want to play against you” you sobbed grabbing onto Lucys trainings shirt tightly

“You scared you'll lose?” Lucy chuckled “If you don't want to Bubs you don't have to... but you're so good... it would really be a loss to football”

“Can't I just play here with you?” you sniffed

“No...” your sister said gently “... City needs you... England needs you... KEIRA needs you”

“Keira has a new BFF... her names Georgia... strange girl” you hick uped

“She still needs her Bitsy more than you realize” Lucy kept her voice soft “... you're the only Bronze she has left... the other Bronze”

“I need you back home Lucy” you mumbled against her shoulder

“I'll be back for Camp soon...” your sister kissed your forehead “... I need you to get your shit together by then okay”

“Not for Camp Luce...” you looked at her your eyes red and puffy “... for forever”

“Soon Bubs... I promise” Lucy kissed your forehead again

“Don't be nervous Bits” Keira mumbled standing behind you in the tunnel

“How couldn't I be? I'm 15 and playing Champions League...” you mumbled back your whole body vibrating

“You are the best out there...” the blonde put her hand on your shoulder trying to ground you

“It's Lucy we're playing against” you took a shaky breath

“As soon as you step on that pitch she's not Lucy... she's the opponent you need to beat” Keira said her voice low knowing just how hard it was to convince yourself

“As if you could..” you started

“I have to... it's Champions League.. even to we'll get another chance I don't want to travel to Lyon having to chase down goals to get those three points”

“Got it... go out... tank them over Manc style” you mumble to yourself

“Exactly... show the world that you are the better Bronze Bitsy” Keira smiled seeing how your whole presence changed into game mode

“Come on Ref!!” you yelled upset as you picked yourself up again being the main target of Lyon “Can you PLEASE for the love of the Lord and Baby Jesus do your job??”

“Bitsy” Keira quickly jogged over pulling you back “... calm down... don't let them get to you”

“Easy for you to say... I was more on the ground that I was playing” you grumbled brushing some grass of your shorts

“Then use your brain to find a solution...” the blonde pressed a quick kiss to your temple and suddenly you had an idea and you quickly turned around

“Beattie” you yelled out running over to the Scott

“What you need F'anwylyd?” the Scott looks surprised

“Switch with me” you mumbled quickly so no one could hear you

“Scuse me?” the older player looked confused

“You go into midfield I hang back” you pressed knowing the whistle would holler any second

“Why?” Jennifer asked even more confused

“They're targeting me... when I'm in defence they don't have as much space but you'll have more space to move and get a play going” you explained pushing the Scott forward as the whistle was blown

“Good move Bubs” Lucy hugged you sideways as she walked next to you into the tunnel for half time

“Are you even allowed to speak to me?” you grumbled

“Just made you a compliment” your sister pulled a face at your mood

“Bronze...” you heard Keira holler and both of you looked up “... leave me teammate and go eat some frog legs”

“Uh... someone fucked up” you snickered seeing how Lucys face fell

“I'll unfuck it later” Lucy pushed you towards Keira offering a small smile which Keira mirrored

“I can't believe you scored that banger” Keira laughed loudly as you got bulldozed over by your teammates

You scored... at a Champions League game... at home... against Lyon... from the box – not Lyons box... your box. It was the last minute of the game and Karen told you to just belt it out of her box after there was a ruffle just in front of her goal and she lost sight of the ball for a split second. Lyon threw everything at City and you did what you've been told. Somehow the ball fell right in front of your feet and Karen yelled at you and so you just swung your leg back to then kick the ball full force down the field. Everyone followed the ball some in shock some in awe as the ball sailed down the pitch towards the opposite goal. Pauline was way off her line and when she saw which direction the ball went she sprinted back but came to late. The ball hit the back of the net as she just raced into her own box.

“I can't believe it either...” you shook your head “... Stanway get off me you pillock”

“You just scored the game winning goal” Georgia laughed loudly NOT getting off your back while Tooney decided to jump on your front

“That was a true Bronze goal” your best friend yelled her fist raised victoriously “Now no one can stop us lifting that ugly ass trophy”

Turns out someone could stop you – FC Barcelona. You made it to the semi finals when you put a foot on spanish soil. Immediately you decided you didn't like it here. It was warm and humid and warm and more humid and people didn't knew the concept of personal space. Two steps out of the plane you suddenly turned around running straight into Keira

“Woah Bits... where you wanna go?” the blonde asked amused

“Home...” you said courtly “... I don't like it here”

“It's beautiful Bits...” Keira smiled

“It's hot and humid and sticky and sunny and happy and disgusting” you grumbled

“Keep walking” the blonde laughed “... you won't go back home until after the game”

“I swear Kei if I get sunburned or a stroke I'll hold you accountable” you looked darkly at her

“Sure thing Bits...” Keira laughed pushing you forward again

“This is the last time I'll put a foot in that godforsaken country” you grumbled – it was not.

“Gooooood...” you groaned loudly “... I really hate it here”

“Why are you whining so much?” Georgia asked “This is the same facility the best players in the world train”

“Shut up Pillock” you snapped earning a warning look from Keira “It's too hot to move here”

“Our game is at 6.45 tomorrow Bits... it'll be cooler by then” Keira showed mercy and laid a cool towel over your head

“I hope it is... otherwise I'll hurt me ankle during warm up and stay in the air conditioned locker room” you grumble from under your towel

“Oh my god... that's Alexia Putellas and Jenni Hermoso” Tooney suddenly squeaked out seeing the two Barcelona players walking past the window

“Woo-hoo” you deadpanned “Two female people who are able to walk on their own... how special”

“Bitsy” Keira warned you “... stop being a tosser”

“They breath the same air as we... they're not special” you huffed

“You're unbelievable sometimes” the blonde rolled her eyes

“Stanway.... don't let her take the piss outta you” you yelled from the other side of the pitch sprinting after Alexia “.. you pillock!!!”

You were able to clear the ball just as Alexia was about to shoot throwing a dirty look at her AND Georgia

“Can't believe I have to defend too...” you huffed getting back up ignoring the hand Alexia offers you

Even tho the spanish player was a little upset you got the ball out of play before she could shoot she had to admit you were good. Far too good for her liking. So she offered you a hand to pull you back up which you ignored instead of walking past her grumbling under your breath.

“If you stand there any longer Ale you'll get roots” Jenni teased her girlfriend smirking

“This girl is so good... Jenni we need her in Barcelona” the blonde catalan answered watching as you stomped back down the field

“Well... if anyone can convince the high dogs to sign her it's you” the dark haired spaniard smiled “but now... Vamos... game isn't over Capi”

“Vale vale...” Alexia laughed as she saw Ona coming down the side line for the throw in “Keep an eye on her Jenni”

“She's too young for me” Jenni threw back but immediately drifted towards you marking you closely

“Excuse me...” you growled pushing past the large spaniard “... I can't see with your ass in me face”

“Lo siento...” the dark haired one looked perplex “.. no entiendo lo que dijiste”

“Yeah yeah whatever” you rolled your eye and suddenly sprinted forward intercepting the throw in successfully getting the ball back “... learn english if you want to have a conversation”

“This girl is a lot of work” Jenni said slightly out of breath catching up with Alexia at half time

“Tell me about it....” the blonde said “... she's everywhere and sees spaces no one else sees...”

“First time in a long time we really need to work... even Aitana looks lost” Jenni chuckled watching you as you pushed Tooney laughing

“I want her” Alexia simply said

“I feel replaced” the dark haired one looked at her girlfriend with a twinkle in her eye

“She's too young for YOU...” the blonde smirked “... not for me”

“She's not even legal...” Jenni pointed out

“And still she made you sweat” Alexia laughed

“Joder” you heard Alexia swear behind you making you smirk

“You're welcome” you smirked as you turned around already seeing Tooney flying towards you

“BANGER!!!” your best friend yelled as you caught her easily laughing at her antics “... you saw that spaniard... THAT'S how you score Champions League goals... four of you on her and she still scored”

“They don't understand you” you snorted “... you can call them twatheads and they would smile”

“They understood your banger” Tooney smiled as you put her back on the ground “... look at them”

“Don't get sloppy now Toons...” you warned “... they'll throw everything at us... they're not used to losing”

“Let them come...” your best friend matched your competitiveness “... we'll show em how it's done City style”

It was the last minute. The last minute that destroyed your dreams of lifting that “ugly ass” trophy. Of course it was Alexia Putellas from a distance. You saw that Georgia was getting tired and you couldn't blame her. The heat and humidity got to you too. On top of that you had Jenni Hermoso on you CONSTANTLY. That woman was a real pest. You saw how Georgia read Alexias move wrong getting to the right instead of the left leaving the blonde enough space to move around her. You knew that your backline was too far up to get to run into a trap so you mobilized your last power and sprinted down the pitch after Alexia. You tried to clear the ball again but the catalan learned quickly so she just stopped the ball and you slided right past her – and the ball. The second you sprung back up you saw the ball leaving her foot and you knew it was over. Barcelona celebrated that goal like it was the final and when you heard the whistle seconds after it you crouched down your head hung low

“You playing amazing” you heard someone next to you in broken english making you look up

“Not good enough” you sighed

“You making us ...” the woman made a running motion

“Run...” you offered

“Sí... run... you making us run mucho” the blonde smiled friendly

“Don't take offense in that Putellas...” you came back up “... but I really don't want to talk to you right now”

“Maybe... despacio?” Alexia looked lost

“What?” you shook your head confused

“Ehrm... slow?” the catalan asked hopefully

“Slow what?” you tried to make sense out of her

“Talk... slow?” the blonde asked a little insecure

“I no no talk you” you said like you were talking to an idiot underlining your words with gestures

“Por qué?” Alexia asked a little taken aback

“I presume that means why....” you took a breath “... look... I'm warm, sweaty and pissed off... your country is too warm and sunny for me liking... I lost a title in the last minute of the game and it was YOU who made me lose... so I no talking you”

“Eh...” the blonde was truly lost now looking at you like you were a ghost

“Ugh...” you threw your arms up “... KEIRA!!!”

“What's wrong Bits?” Keira came wandering over seeing how frustrated you were

“Make her go away...” you pointed at Alexia

“I taught you manners...” the blonde scolded you seeing how aggressively you pointed at the catalan

“I don't want to talk to her and she doesn't understand it because she's only speaking stupid spaniard” you got even mor frustrated

“Maybe she wants to congratulate you on a really good game?” Keira looked at you expectantly

“If it was a good game we'd be through to the final” you snapped now turning around leaving Keira and Alexia standing next to each other

“I'm sorry” Keira apologized to Alexia

“She good... amazing” the catalan said again not knowing what just happened

“She's hurt” the englishwoman said offering a smile “... but sí... she's amazing”

“I sorry no good ingles” Alexia apologized awkwardly

“No... your english is good...” Keira immediately shot down any insecurities the catalan could have had “... Bitsy is just.. Bitsy”

“You... maybe question her switch?” the catalan asked a little hopefully pulling a little on her jersey

“Of course...” the englishwoman smiled understanding immediately “... give me a minute... BITSY.... get your ass back here”

“NO” you yelled from the other side of the pitch talking to Tooney

“HERE.... NOW!!” Keira yelled and Alexia saw in awe how you start to trot towards Keira

“Alexia wants to swap Jerseys...” the englishwoman said giving you a warning look “... don't you dare throw a fit”

“I don't want her sweat dripping Jersey...” you looked a little disgusted

“Bitsy” Keira slapped the back of your head seeing how Alexias face fell again “If you continue to be a tosser I'll make sure to get that attitude out of you tomorrow morning 4.00”

“Doesn't she have like... a new one...” you asked carefully “... if not there are about a thousands fans here that have her jersey”

“One of the best players in the world wants your Jersey and you complain that it's a little sweaty?” Keira asks shocked

“You know I hate dirty stuff... I can't even put a plate in the sink without going back two minutes later to clean it up” you whine and for the first time Alexia saw you as the person you were

“Bitsy please... it took her a lot to ask so PLEASE....” the englishwoman said now softly knowing NOW where you were coming from

“Can you... new one?” you ask Alexia directly pointing at her jersey

“New one?” the catalan looked confused

“Yes... no sweat” you nodded hoping she understood you

“Sweat?” Alexia asked and you groaned

“Just do it Bits...” Keira nudged you gently

“But it's so sweaty...” you whined but pulled your Jersey over your head offering it to the catalan who quickly did the same with her jersey smiling widely

“You good looking at Blaugrana” Alexia smiled happily as you put her jersey on

“Don't get used to it...” you wave off “... that's gonna be the last time you'll see me wearing that”

It wasn't.

“Welcome back to Barcelona Cariño” Alexia smiled as you got out of the black Cupra

“Look at that... someone knows three more words in english” you grumbled “... for your and everyones Information... I'm not here by choice”

“I studied hard to make you feel more welcome” the catalan kept the smile on her face being told by Lucy before not to give into your current mood

“Yeah well... if your club wouldn't have made me club selling me and I would've had a CHOICE to be here I would feel SO welcomed” you growled keeping your distance to the blonde

“Cari... your club is Barcelona now” the blonde said softly

“It isn't... it'll never be...” you snapped “... I hated it here the last time and this time isn't any different”

“Your sister plays here...” Alexia pointed out “... didn't you want to play with her again? Keira joined too....”

“I got used to play without Lucy...” your voice dripping with venom “... let's get this over with... what do I have to do?”

“I'll show you around a little and then there will be a photoshoot” the blonde sighed seeing in your body language that there will be a lot of fight coming from your end

“Do I have to put on this god awful Jersey again?” you asked as you followed Alexia inside

“Yes...” she simply said as she pushed a door open “... this is our team room.... here you can come before training or stay afterwards... it's there so we all can come together and just spend time together – you are not obligated to come here I would advise it for starters... get to know the team”

“I don't need to get to know them... I know everything from them I need to know” you mumbled your mood not increasing

“Like what?” the catalan challenged you

“All their stats... passing rate... fitness... weaknesses....” you shrugged your shoulders

“That's what everyone can look up...” Alexia said gently “... I mean get to know the team personally”

“No interest in any personal stuff...” you grumbled “... I hope to get out of here by November”

“You signed a contract” the blonde pointed out

“No... I'm legally not allowed to sign contracts... my Parents signed the contract” you said as a matter of fact “... they sold me like a cheap whore”

“You really don't want to be here...” the catalan looked shocked and lost

“No I don't...” you huffed “... but don't worry... I'm professional enough to do my job... I'll be here for training... do my part at games – if I get playing time that is... and smile for pictures... other than that I just want my peace and quiet”

“Here at Barcelona we're familia...” Alexia started “... I understand that this transfer came as a surprise for you and that you had no say in it doesn't make it better... but we are familia and you are a part of that now too... give the team a chance... it's not their fault you got traded”

“Hm... interesting offer..” you thought about it for a second and Alexia really started to hope “... no”

“Okay... I can't do more then to tell you that you are familia now too...” the catalan huffed defeated “... this way to the locker rooms”

“How did it go Capi?” Lucy came to a halt next to Alexia who overlooked your photoshoot

“Not good” the blonde answered shortly

“I'm sorry...” your sister looked embarrassed

“She doesn't want to be her Lucy...” Alexia said not taking her eyes off you “... she's an emotional player and she plays so much better when her mind is at ease... but right now.. she's so angry...”

“City did her dirty Ale...” Lucy looked over to you seeing how the photographer tried to get a smile out of you “... she's hurting... I just beg you to not let her get to you.. you'll need a long breath but she's a good kid... I know it's gonna be hard but you'll need to stay calm with her and PLEASE don't let her rot on the bench”

“She's too good for the bench...” the catalan snorted “... but she's not ready to play a full game... she'll collapse...”

“She'll come around Capi I promise...” your sister said convinced “... Keira will help too... when she sees me and Keira interacting with the team she'll come around too”

“I hope so Lucy...” Alexia sighed “.... I really do hope so”

“Go back to england” you heard a fan yell towards you after your first game

“I wish I could!!!!!” you snapped back getting right into his face “You think I WANT to be here?”

“Woah Bubs...” Lucy was quickly to intercept grabbing you shoving you into Alexias arms signalling her to get you away

“What the hell?!” Alexia exploded once you were inside the tunnel

“Let go” you grunted fighting her tooth and nail

“No...” the catalan pushed you forward “... we're going to have a talk”

“In here” she pushed you into a meeting room “... what were you THINKING?!”

“I just said what I told you before” you snapped back at her “... I don't WANT to be here”

“Okay enough..” Alexia yelled and for the first time you were a little scared of her “... the team was nothing than welcoming to you... you fit into our playing style... you just played your first game and you were a game changer... I understand that you're still upset about the trade but you can't let them get to you like that”

“You... don't understand” you said your voice breaking

“Then tell me so I do” the blonde says softly seeing how you were near your breaking point

“I want to go home” it suddenly broke out of you tears streaming down your face “I want to go back to me friends and me Club...”

“Cariño...” Alexia said softly “... this is your Club now.. I understand that's difficult for you but Barcelona is your home now”

“I want to go back....” you cried standing in the middle of the room with Alexia a few feet away

“I promise this team wants to get to know you...” the blonde kept her voice gentle inching a little bit closer “... to us you already are familia... let them see how amazing you are”

“But I don't want to get to know them” you sniffled taking a the one step back that Alexia inched closer to you

“Cari... I understand this isn't what you wanted but let us help you... you need to accept that in near future nothing will change about your situation” Alexia spoke softly noticing how you still weren't ready to let her comfort you “... you ARE familia... you can be angry and fight everything or you can start to let us in and accept that we won't get off your back... we won't stop trying and we certainly won't leave you to fend for your own”

“But why?” you felt so uncomfortable

“You are familia” the catalan repeated again “You are my Cariño, Mapís Neña, Ingrids weird norwegian thing, Jenni refers to you as Pequeña and Ona calls you Bebita... you just doesn't want to hear it because you're so angry with this... but you are already shining but díos mio you could shine so mucho brighter”

“I just don't know how... all my life I played City Style...” you mumbled and this time you didn't move when Alexia came closer

“Just play Cari...” the blonde smiled carefully grabbing your hand letting her thumb caressing your knuckles “... just do what you love the most and the rest will come... oh... and stay away from Mapí, Piña and Patri... I have a feeling you four will give me a headache”

“I don't need them...” you huffed “.... I can headache you all by meself”

“Oh Cari” Alexia laughed loudly pulling you into a tight hug

“Mapí!!!!” you yelled sprinting down the side line Alexia hot on your heels

“I got you Neña...” the Zaragoza yelled throwing a filled water balloon at her best friend hitting Alexia square in the chest

“Uh oh...” Mapí looked horrified as the blonde catalan came to a sudden halt turning towards her

“Neña...” the tattooed spaniard stammered slowly walking backwards as Alexia made her way over “... NEÑAAAA!!!!”

“Run you spanner... RUN!!” you yelled turning on your heels running back to help Mapí so you decided to jump on Alexias back laughing loudly

“I TOLD you you two are NOT allowed to be unsupervised” the catalan grumbled yet still her hands came around securing you on her back so you wouldn't hurt yourself

“The grumpy norwegian was there” you laughed your arms hanging loosely around the blondes neck

“She has a name” Caro grumbled when she walked past flicking your ear

“Grumpy... see” you exclaimed trying to avoid another flick nearly brining Alexia down

“Stop it you little pest...” Alexia huffed trying to hold her balance with you wriggling on her back “... go annoy Jenni”

“But you are victim of the day” you pouted with Mapí nodding furiously behind Ingrid

“And you will be winner of extra laps in a second... go annoy someone else” the blonde set you back down

“But..” you started again

“Vamos... I have media to do...” Alexia pushed you away slightly smiling to herself when she heard you huff.

It took you around four month until you finally agreed to join the team for a dinner and Alexia decided to push you out of your comfort zone placing you between herself and Irene. Lucy wasn't happy about it fussing over you the entire time you were still closed off pulling back every time one of the other players reached out to you. Now no one could ever imagine that you once were a lone wolf. Just as Alexia predicted you hit it off with Mapí, Piña and Patri – much to the Captains dismay. All three Captains. Jenni always sweared hell and poison on the frustrating four when she was on the receiving end of your pranks

“Jenni already left” you pouted holding onto Alexias trainings jersey

“Then annoy your sister” the blonde waved off

“Ay!!!” Lucy exclaimed from the other side of the pitch looking shocked

“Lucy!!!” you yelled and immediately you and Mapí took off towards her

“No no no no no no no” your sister waved her hands panicked not knowing where to go – so she did what she thought was best... she grabbed Ona pulling the small spaniard in front of her using her as a human shield

“Atureu-vos!!” Ona strictly said giving you and Mapí are warning glare making you halt in your movement Mapí running into your back pushing you forward nearly into Ona

“Are you serious?” the smaller spaniard turned around looking at her girlfriend “A re you really using me to stop YOUR sister?”

“They are scared of you” Lucy shrugged her shoulders embarrassed smiling apologetic

“Unbelievable” Ona rolled her eyes shooing the two of you away “Trobeu algú més”

“What she saying?” you looked confused at Mapí

“She's a not fun person” Mapí grumbled pulling you away “That what she's saying”

“I knew that already...” you huffed letting the tattooed spaniard pull you forward “... she always brings home these fin things... and then leaves them laying around in the kitchen”

“You would benefit from eating fish from time to time as well Bebita” the small spaniard yelled after you “.... now to you”

“I... love you??” Lucy smiled hopefully knowing she was in deep shit

It was safe to say you finally found your place. In a country that was still too hot for your liking. With a team that included 75% lunatics. With a playing style you needed to get used too. But you fit in. Alexia took you under her wing staying after trainings when she noticed you hid a ball from the staff to train on your own. The blonde watched you working on your technique, speed and stamina. She left you to sort your problems out on your own before stepping back on the pitch offering help and sometimes a shoulder to cry on when you got overwhelmed or frustrated.

Jenni took it upon herself to shield and protect you from the world. Whenever someone came to close and she saw how uncomfortable you got she pushed herself between you and the offending person. She also pushed herself between you and some fans when you lost your temper starting to argue with them. Most of the time you climbed on the lanky spaniards back to continue to argue just from a higher point. Jenni was one of the few people who was allowed to carry you when you fell asleep on the bus after a game or to the way to one.

Irene mothered you like she mothered Mateo. She always made sure you drank enough – not sugary stuff tho – eat properly and got enough sleep. When you were extremly grumpy and close to a tantrum she'll be the one putting her foot down sending you to your hotel room without dessert to later pay you a visit talking it out. At one point she even made sure that she packed a spare kit for you since you've been known to not be the cleanest eater. The amount of times the poor kit woman had to try to get tomato sauce out of your clothes were uncounterable. So Irene took over the task to have everything ready if needed. Including the cereal bars you absolutely loved but made the nutrition coach get a stroke.

Ingrid was the one who always managed to calm you down. You were young and hot headed and while you got quite good holding in your temper if the other players prodded you once to often you just exploded in their faces. So everyone looked at Ingrid to retrieve you and calm you down. The natural calmness of the norwegian made it hard for you to keep fuelling your fire. Ingrid just kept her hand lightly on the back of your neck and instantly you calmed down.

Frido was the fun Aunt who bought you everything you asked for and even stuff you didn't ask for. That's how you ended up with a motocross bike for your 18th birthday much to the horror of Keira, Ona, Alexia, Irene and obviously your Mum. Lucy and Jenni already debated who could have the bike on what day of the week until Ona and Alexia put a firm stop on their discussion confiscating the keys immediately. Frido had to hand out her credit card to Alexia until she thought of a more useful less dangerous present. So Frido got you a car with the argument less dangerous since more metal around you. This time Irene fished the Keys out of your hand telling you you'd get them back once you passed your drivers license and showed them you were a good driver. The swede just rolled her eyes at the adults calling them spoilsports earning herself five extra laps.

Aitana was your go-to for quietness. The quiet spaniard never bothered you or minded your presence and sometimes this was just what you needed. You also made it to your personal goal to teach her proper english after you heard her ask a fan if they “work or no work”. You had a coronary.... right there. Aitana taught you catalan. You asked her to keep it a secret until you were fluent enough to join a conversation throwing half the team off. The brown haired spaniard agreed smirking evilly when you out of the blue joined a conversation between Alexia and Ona giving your two cents before casually walking down the tunnel towards the locker rooms leaving the two dumb folded.

And then there were Mapí, Piña and Patri. Together with you the team called you the “frustrating four” since when you four were together in one place it'll frustrate the adults to no end trying to figure out what prank you'll come up with next. Or get frustrated by your pranks. The three women were your saviour. Mapí might be small and appeared to be easy going but in reality she loved you like a sister and fought every one who said a bad word against you. Piña was the one who poked you to do something that would get the four of you in immense trouble but she knew you were the one having a special stand with Alexia and Irene so your punishment would be lighter. Patri was the one always cheering you on. No matter if it was on or off the pitch. Whenever you needed a cheerleader you knew Patri was there. She made you run faster, jump higher, shoot harder. She also made you run faster when Alexia was on your heels again.

All of them got to witness how you grew from the angry unhappy girl to the mostly grown up focused young woman. That's why Alexia – La Reina de Barcelona – waited to lift the Champions League trophy until you were next to her when you won your first ever title. You were the first who lifted the trophy (the ugly ass trophy which Tooney pointed out several times next camp) after your Captain even before Irene and Jenni did. And just as your team celebrated, singing loudly you tip toed away finding the person you grew to like very much over the past year. You knocked on the visitors locker room door nervously and asked for the woman who came out and you saw how much the loss took a toll on her

“Here to gloat your victory around?” the woman asked her shoulders hung low

“No... here to win again” you grinned taking her face into your hands kissing her softly

“I knew you liked me all those years” the blonde grinned once the kiss ended

“Pillock” you snorted as you felt her hand grab the back of your neck pulling you in for another kiss

#lucy bronze x reader #keira walsh x reader #ona batlle x reader #barca femeni #lucy bronze #mapi leon x reader #jenni hermoso x reader #ingrid engen x reader #woso image #claudia pina #georgia stanway x reader

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redfoxwritesstuff · 6 hours ago

Text

AN: As we countdown to Christmas, I want to remind everyone once again to be the type of person you wish there was more of in the world. We as a whole decide what is acceptable within our fandom.

CW: Oral sex, voice kink, dry humping, Alastor has hooves, rough sex

Summary: You and Alastor never had the same taste in books but that was alright. You prefered romance of the reather spicy kind. It was never a difference in taste that impacted your days or nights... until you walk into the shared bedroom to find Alastor sitting with your book in his hand and orders ready on his tongue.

Alastor never really understood the appeal of the books he would often find you curled up in the reading chair absorbed in. They were love stories, and he was your love story. What more did you need? It wasn’t something he argued about with you. Just a passing confusion that would linger.

Alastor would walk in, find you with your book and walk by, a small smile on his face as he shook his head. You didn’t debate or defend your books. They were not something Alastor would like and so you left it be.

That’s why you were ever so surprised to walk into your shared bedroom to find Alastor sitting in his reading chair with one of your books in his hand, reading the back of the cover. You glanced at him, eyebrow raised as you made your way to the dresser.

He was humming as he flipped through the pages of the book, finding a general theme of the story from the random pages he scanned as you changed from your day dress to the silky nightgown you favored. The cool fabric skimmed the top of your thighs as you switched your panties out for the silky short shorts that matched it.

“Alastor?” You called as you walked over to him. “Are you going to join me in bed, or will you be up for a while?”

Alastor’s red eyes flicked up at you as he opened the book to page one. “Why don’t you sit with me for a while, darling? I’ll read to you for a bit.”

Your eyes landed on the title of the book in his hands as you settled on the floor in front of Alastor. It wasn’t uncommon for him to read to you, sitting in your reading chair or in his.

Mostly, he’d sit in his chair and you’d find yourself in his lap, head tucked against his shoulder as he lulled you to sleep with the smoothe sound of Alastor’s voice. Sometimes he would take up residence in your chair, though.

On those nights, you would sit on the ground at his feet, legs tucked under you as you rested your head against his knee. It was usually on those nights he wasn’t in the mood for a lot of physical contact. Your head against the side of his knee was a compromise you eagerly accepted.

That was the position you took now, preparing yourself to listen to him read not from one of his books but from yours. Your heart pounded in your chest as you relaxed against the soft chair.

Alastor started reading and mentally, you followed along. The book he had chosen was one of your favorites, well loved and reread many times. Your mind raced as you mentally counted down the pages until the first filthy scene would begin.

Surely, Alastor would stop when he realized what kind of book it was. You were so convinced that he would that your heart nearly stopped in your chest when he kept reading. He read about the characters fucking, seeking pleasure from eachother in the most explicate detail as if he was reading the newspaper.

The sound of his voice, narrating your book, was bringing a flush through your veins. Desire built inside you as he said the most filthy lines. Your thighs rubbed together as his voice continued on, unphased by what he was reading.

You jumped as Alastor ran his fingers through your hair, reminding you he was still there, as if the sound of his voice allowed you to forget. He read on, each word flowing from his lips as you struggled to keep your body under control.

“You seem to enjoy this,” Alastor teased as the chapter ended. “Is this why you like these books so much?”

You looked up at him, face hot while you tried to put on a mask of innocence. He had caught you. While you did not favor or partake in visual phonography, you, like countless other women throughout history, read it in inconspicuous books.

“I don’t-” You were not sure what defense you were going to go with or why you felt so ashamed in the first place.

“You’re rubbing your thighs together the same way you do when you watch me undress at night.” Alastor left you no room for argument. You were aroused, and he knew your tells. Hell, he didn’t even need to. His sense of smell was powerful, taking after his deer like nature.

“It’s fine,” you laughed, waving off your obvious condition, “I know you’re not really-”

Alastor patted his knee and ordered you to look at him. It was the first time you had done so since you had settled at his feet. His erection tented his night pants, straining against the fabric.

Your eyes lingered on it before you ran them up his torso, taking in the black button up night shirt he wore. It was a habit from life he struggled to let go of. He slept dressed unless the two of you had made love that night.

“Do you want me to keep reading?” Alastor asked. “Answer honestly, dear.”

“Yes,” you whispered timidly. “But only if you want to.”

“Care to make a deal?” Alastor drew out the last word, ears flicking as he spoke.

“What?” You hesitated, as anyone would when faced with such an offer. “What sort of deal?”

“Well,” Alastor shamelessly pulled the top of his pants down, letting his considerable cock spring free. If you want me to continue reading, you better make sure it’s entertaining for me, too.

“You- You want a- a handie?” You chuckled nervously, confused by the sudden change from what level of touching you had expected from him.

“No,” Alastor said after a pause. “I want you to put that pretty little mouth of yours to work.”

“Oh,” you shuffled around in front of him. You rose up on your knees, wrapping your hand around his cock, and looked at him for approval again. Alastor was ever so fickle when it came to touch. When he nodded, you wrapped your lips around his cock, running your tongue over his head in soft, wet strokes.

Alastor started reading again as you worked yourself over him, slowly taking in more and more of him as your saliva lubricated his shaft. You breathed long and slow breaths, taking in the scent of his musk.

You worked him over eagerly, listing to the sound of his voice reading out the most debauched things. The book he had picked was by far one of your more spicy selections. Sex scene after sex scene seemed to flow as your jaw quickly started to ache.

Alastor’s cock fell from your lips as you gasped for air, moving your weight from knee to knee, seeking any sort of stimulation. Your hand left his shin as you reached for your shorts.

“Nu-uh-uh!” Alastor said in an eager, singsong voice.

“What?” Your jaw ached as you formed the simple word, his length and girth making for a challenge to take into your mouth.

“You don’t get to take breaks while I read,” Alastor patted the top of your head with the back of the book. “I read and you suck. That’s the deal. I didn’t say you could touch yourself while I’m reading.”

“Alastor,” you whined as he smiled down at you. “You can’t expect me to sit here and suck your cock the whole time? You’re so thick, it’s not like you’re easy to suck.”

“Tell you what,” Alastor grabbed your chin as he leaned forward, kissing you softly for a moment before continuing. “You can take a break between chapters.”

“So generous,” you teased him for a moment before realizing he was serious. He intended to read to you until the book was done or it was time to retire for the night.

“Ha!” Alastor laughed, loud and eager, as if you had made some sort of joke. “I am! I’ll even let you take care of yourself… with my hoof.”

“You can’t be serious,” you whispered.

“I am!” Alastor laughed, guiding his cock to point at your mouth, waiting for you to wrap your lips back around his shaft.

You did, timidly, and were rewarded with his voice, reading once again. You thought yourself to be too good to grind yourself against his leg, his hoof, but as the first chapter finished and the second began, you found yourself straddling his leg.

You closed your eyes, enjoying the heavy feeling of the head of his cock resting against your tongue. You sucked at him, running your tongue up and down his slit as he read on. His voice continued, steady and unaffected by the ministrations of your tongue.

You sucked him deeper, trying to get some sort of reaction from him. The tip of your tongue swept under his glans, urging him deeper. Blowjobs were not something you typically enjoyed giving for extended periods of time but for Alastor… you couldn’t say no to him. He so rarely had sexual requests.

The sound of his voice, filthy words dropping from his tongue, filled your mind. “You’re such a hussy,” Alastor growled the words out, putting his own gravel into the dialog written in the book. “Eager for any man’s attention.”

You moaned around his shaft, fingers wrapping around his calf as you worked your way up and down his cock.

“Careful Cher,” Alastor said, looking from the book to you. “Don’t get too eager. I didn’t say you could make me cum and I certainly haven’t said you can either.”

You moaned in agreement, eyes looking up at him pleadingly. You wanted more, to hear him read more, to feel more of him. Alastor waited a moment before directing his attention back to the novel, set in the time he lived and detailing the scandalous relationships of a radio host.

“You will get that when I decide you’re ready,” Alastor read the words in the book, voice steady and not showing a hint of embarrassment. “And not a moment before.”

You ground your core down on the wiry fur that covered his lower calf, rubbing your silk covered folds against the joints that made up his ankle. Alastor read of a man slapping a woman’s cunt as you rubbed your folds over the ridge where the hard surface of his hoof began.

All you could think of was the sound of his voice as your saliva ran down his shaft. Alastor read as if he couldn’t feel it drip down his balls or soak into the fabric of his pants. He seemed unbothered as your tongue ran up and down his veins.

Your jaw ached as you swallowed around him. What was worse, your cunt ached from the need for him. The hardness of his hoof, shiny now with slick that had soaked through your shorts, was unforgiving against the softness of your folds.

“Each blow to her cunt was followed with a stroke up, running his fingers over her sensitive clit.” Alastor read as you eagerly choked yourself on his cock. “The moans leaving her lips were more and more shameless.” He said easily as you moaned around his shaft. “There was no show now. Each heaving breath, whine and moan was honestly earned.”

He was driving you insane. Each word that left his mouth rich and wrapped in warm honey made you want him more. You ground your clit against the ridge of his hoof as he spoke, trying to find satisfaction.

“You like this,” Alastor read, eyes focusing on you, ensuring you knew the words were as much directed toward you as they were toward the story. “You like it when I slap your wet clit, don’t you?”

Your jaw ached as you slurped around his cock, tongue working to find the vein and trace it. Need for him burned inside you, threatening to burn away at your sanity. There was nothing more you wanted than for him to bend you over the arm of the chair and fuck you until you couldn’t remember your name.

“You like it,” Alastor read as his cock twitched in the warmth of your mouth. “Knowing they can hear your moans. Do you want me to fuck you?”

You moaned again around his shaft, eyes watering as you looked up at him as he continued reading.

“Do you want to put on a show for them? Let them watch me slap your cunt? Let them watch you scream?” Alastor read as you whined and whimpered around his shaft. “Do you want them to see how wet this delicious,” Alastor paused, watching you as he finished. “Sweet cunt gets from pain? I’ll show them.”

You sucked eagerly on him, enjoying the taste of his pre-cum on your tongue. You bobbed your head, fully engrossed in the task as you went. Slick glued your shorts to your folds, soaked through the fabric. It spread against your thighs, shining in the dim light of the room.

“I’ll let them watch as I fuck that tight cunt. Watch my dick sink into you. I’ll have you screaming my name until the whole town knows who you belong to.” Alastor read on, voice tight as you ran your tongue over his slit before swallowing him again. “They’ll watch you lick my cum from me.”

The book slammed shut with a snap before Alastor threw it aside. Your eyes fluttered open as he leaned forward, the book landing dangerously close to the fireplace.

His cock pushed deeper and deeper into your mouth as he moved forward on the chair. You choked on him as he forced his way into your throat. Fingers wrapped in your hair to pull you off of him, throwing you onto your back.

Alastor poured from the chair as he climbed your body. His hoof scraped against the wooden floor as he ripped your shorts from your body. He was on you in an instant, hot saliva coated cock pushing into your needy, unpropped hole.

You moaned, body tense from how close you had brought yourself to orgasm as you rode his hoof. He was unrelenting as he pushed himself deeper, sheathing himself fully in your wet heat. The head of his cock reached deep inside you as he sighed, finally home inside you.

He indulged in the feeling for a few short seconds, not giving you anything more than those to adjust. Hot fire spread through you as he pulled back, grabbing your thigh and hiking it high along his side before slamming back inside you as he leaned forward, capturing your swollen lips in a hungry kiss.

You moaned into him as his cock pushed against your walls. Each thrust was punishing, brutal, and wild. He fucked you with the same force you knew the man in the book was going to go on and fuck his darling. The only difference was that he took her on the top of a table inside the speakeasy and Alastor was fucking you on the floor of your bedroom.

Did he know? You felt too good to care.

“Fuck,” you moaned, only to have the word choked off by Alastor’s tongue sweeping into your mouth.

He shifted, taking your legs and resting them on his shoulders as he folded you in half. All of his weight slammed down on you, driving his cock into you with all the force he could manage as he swallowed your cries. Your clit poked out between your folds, framed by them as his pelvic bone slapped it again and gain.

You struggled not to think of the way the man in the book slapped the woman’s clit. Did it feel the same?

“Cher,” Alastor groaned as he kissed your neck, pushing your knees lower still. “Baby, so good. You’re going to cum for me?”

“Ah- Al-Al!” You couldn’t form a word, could hardly form his name as each thrust knocked the air from your lungs.

He continued, body crashing into yours as each muscle pulled tighter and tighter. He watched as your toes curled and your ankles shook. Drool ran from the corner of your mouth. Lips, bright red and puffy from being wrapped around his cock for so long, parted, falling open in a gasp as the dam broke.

He could feel each shudder run through your body. Your walls rippled around him, strong waves begging him to fuck into you harder, faster. Who was he to deny? The sound of your cries of his name mixed with his panting breaths and the slapping of his body against your soaked cunt.

He came with a roar, shadows dancing around the room and fire surging in the fireplace. His power surged, as did his cock, as his punishing pace grew irregular. Hot ropes of white shot out from him, painting your welcoming walls white, rewarding their embrace with his essence.

His elbows gave out, pushing your legs to your shoulders more as he crashed down, mouth latching on your shoulder as powerful shudders ran down his spine. He ground his pelvis into your core, cock twitching as he emptied the last of his seed deep within you.

You gasped for breath, fingers running through his hair as one leg slipped off his shoulder, receiving the ache in that hip. The cold, hard floor was unforgiving under your back but you struggled to get the motivation to tell Alastor to get off of you. Instead, you both lay on the ground, tangled in each other as you both twitched with the aftershocks of your lovemaking.

If Alastor was going to fuck you with such feral passion, you wouldn’t mind him reading your dirty romance books to you more often.

Join us at VoxTek for a Vox themed Hazbin Discord where we talk Vox, Hazbin, writing, reading, art and who knows what else. You may even catch some exclusive sneak peeks at upcoming fics from some of your favorite writers including the first page of the next chapter of MisD a day early!!

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mysecretlittlelibrary · 2 days ago

Text

Second Lesson

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: edging and overstimulation

Genre: smut

Summary: Some things are not self explanatory, and Steve has decided he's going to fill in the gaps by coming to you to ask his questions about sex and some of those questions have more involved answers than you'd expect

***

You hear a knock at your door while you're looking for something in your closet.

"Coming!" You call, taking a moment to contain the hurricane that you've created in there. You open the door to find Steve in the hall.

"Are you busy?" He asks.

"Not particularly, what's up?"

"I have another question."

"Shoot." You say, gesturing for him to walk into your room.

"Edging. What it is?"

"It is pleasuring yourself or someone else until the brink of orgasm without letting them actually have an orgasm."

"That sounds like torture." Steve frowns.

"Sometimes it is. It can be used as a punishment, some people enjoy it though, it can also be about increasing endurance- you know- training to last longer in bed, it also usually makes the orgasm more intense when you do eventually get to that point."

"Huh, have you done it before?"

"Been on both sides." You shrug. "Oh also I should mention that like most kink terms there is an equal yet opposite complementary term. For edging its complementary term is overstimulation."

"And that is?"

"If edging is about restraint when it comes to pleasure then overstimulation is a hedonistic indulgence in it. Orgasming again and again and again, sometimes to the point of pain this is where a safe word can be useful because you may say things like stop or I can't take it especially because post orgasm sensitivity can be a bitch but the whole point is to keep going and if you've already talked about exploring either edging or overstim, your partner will probably ignore you saying stop because again the point is to keep going even if you are sensitive, but if they're going to ignore you saying it's too much, you need to be able to stop them if it actually is too much."

"Are all aspects of sex so- severe?" He asks.

"No. Sex can be incredibly soft and gentle and sweet, it can be slow and tender in many ways. I mean, you saw some of that last time. You just- happen to have coincidentally questions about the other end of the spectrum today." You shrug.

"It just seems very, intense. Like maybe too intense? I don't get why you would want to put someone through that. It seems like a slippery slope, sex should be about love not some form of- torture."

"Well calm down, you sound panicked and it's not like I'm going to strap you down and force you to experience it. It's not for everyone Steve, different people have different preferences, this is why it's good to have those conversations before you sleep with someone so nobody gets put in a stressful situation they didn't sign up for. Plus there are a lot of ways to express love you know. If your person wants you to do these things then that absolutely shows that you love them, especially if you do them with the care you're meant to."

"I just don't understand it I guess." He shakes his head.

"That's fine Stevie, no one can force you to do it or enjoy it or even comprehend it really. Like I said, it's a personal preference. Just- be honest with your partner when the time comes." You shrug.

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Do you... like this stuff?" Steve asks.

"I do. With the right person."

"Really?"

"You have your ideas about sex, I have mine." You shrug.

"What's that mean?"

"You said sex is about showing love and I agree with that to a point but to me it's also about pleasure. It's about exploring yourself, sometimes through someone else. It's about learning and adventure. The heat and intensity, passion that is borderline all consuming, sex can be many things. I like to experience all of them."

"Oh." He breathes.

"Of course that's just me. I'm not here to change your mind about anything." You hum.

"I have to try this edging thing."

"You don't. The hands on lessons are an option not an obligation, you don't seem interested in that and that's fine! You can just take the verbal explanation and proceed with your day as long as it makes sense to you, there's no reason to force yourself to try something that don't appeal to you." You shake your head.

"Well, it's hard to understand something if you're not open to experiencing it right?"

"I mean, I guess sometimes."

"So I want to experience it. That way I can understand it." He insists.

"As long as you're sure about this."

"I'm sure. Let's do it." He nods.

"What? Now?"

"Do you have time?"

"Depends on what time it is now."

"Three seventeen."

"I've got til six, I have another engagement later this evening."

"Is that enough time?"

"Plenty. Get comfortable, I would recommend getting naked, you do need to at least take off your pants or you'll likely stain them but it'll probably be more comfortable to take off everything because there's a chance you'll get hot. I know you run pretty warm already but I don't know how much you'd enjoy your shirt sticking to your back after twenty minutes." You say.

"Right, yeah." Steve hesitantly shuffles out of his pants and underwear and then, after seemingly debating in his head, he also pulls his shirt over his head and places all of them on your desk chair before sitting on the bed.

"Alright, I'm going to treat this like I would a real situation. Of course, the expectations are different, I know so don't worry about performing a certain way. Just like last time if at any point you have a question or something makes you feel uncomfortable you can simply say so assuming you can focus. If you can't focus use your stoplight. Yellow, or red, just like we discussed before." You tell him as you pull open the drawer by your bed and grab the bottle of lube.

"What's that for?" Steve asks when you squirt a generous amount into your hand.

"It's a lubricant. It might be a little cold at first, but I'm sure you'll appreciate it, especially the longer this goes." You say sitting beside him. "I'm going to touch you now, is that alright?" You ask.

"Yes." Steve nods with more conviction than you'd expect. You wrap your fingers around the base of his dick and he takes in a large breath. His exhale is shaky as you drag your hand up his length with a pressured grip. You circle his tip, slowly massaging it, watching his reactions, enjoying the way his abdomen seems to flex sporadically. His breathing is coming out harsher now and you begin to pump him. Last time you made a point not to stare at him since he was clearly rather nervous about the whole thing but not looking is rather impossible with this 'lesson' so you take the time to really get a look at his dick as you stroke him. The tip is a reddish pink and there are a couple veins running very noticeably along it. You already knew he was big, he's been inside you for fuck's sake, but looking at it unobstructed, boy was he... endowed.

"So how this works Stevie, usually, is that you'll tell me when you're close, ask me, beg me if I tell you to, ask me to cum and I'll tell you if you've earned it. Of course I won't demand all that from you, I'm rather good at reading people's bodies." You explain to him, stroking faster, holding a little bit tighter.

"W-what do you mean usually?" He asks wearily.

"When I do this with partners. There's a bit of power play that comes with this, if you hadn't noticed, having control of how much pleasure your person receives at any given moment. It's a very powerful feeling. But this is more about teaching you than my own enjoyment, so it's a bit different, I'm just offering you more details about the appeal of it all." You explain.

"A-and you- you like that? The p-power play?" He asks. You can tell he's really starting to struggle with his focus, his body is twitching, and he's gripping the sheets, blinking rapidly as he speaks. You watch his whole body tense up and take that as your cue to ease up. You slow your wrist to almost a stop, relishing in the groan Steve lets out.

"I find it can be intoxicating." You smirk.

"So that's how this works?" He pants.

"Pretty much." You nod, picking up speed again. Steve moans as his body jolts again. You can't help but imagine how nice he'd look with a couple of hickeys. You won't be giving him any of course but the idea does captivate you for a brief moment. It's clear that Steve is trying to control his reactions, but the shaky breaths and strained grunts give him away.

"My god." He whispers, tipping his head back. If it was anybody but Steve saying those words, you'd affirm that you are their god and they should worship you as such but it's not somebody else, it's Steve and you'd best keep it simple. When his body tenses up again, you slow your hand accordingly, and Steve lets out a strained groan.

"You know Stevie, you don't have to try so hard to keep quiet. I like your little noises. They're hot." You say.

"I'm not- r-really used to... making n-noises like that." He pants out.

"Well, a bit of advice, most girls like to hear that you're enjoying yourself."

"Really?"

"Yep." You say, stroking him faster, again. You continue your game with him, slowing down when his body tenses up and speeding up when his shuddering breaths quiet. With each denied orgasm his restraint on his vocalizations seems to slip, by the fith time you're slowing down he's an unending string of moans and grunts and even a few whimpers when you squeeze in just the right place.

"This is torture." Steve grits out. His entire body is flushed and his skin is glistening.

"I know but you're doing so well. Just a little longer and I promise I'll reward you. Don't you want that?" You ask with a mocking sweetness in your tone.

"Please." He says breathlessly.

"Oh that sounded nice." You smile. You're not even trying to break him like you would under usual circumstances but the sound him whimpering please to you almost makes you want to.

"Y/n- I feel, like I'm on fire. Please I need to cum." Steve huffs through clenched teeth and you start to wonder if he's reaching his limit. Gripping his chin you gently tilt his head to look at you.

"Checking in Stevie, gimme a color please." You say softly.

"G-green, this is insane." He says shakily.

"You haven't tapped out yet." You smile slightly.

"Is that the goal?"

"Not today." You wink at him. You decide it's probably best to stop here, so you pick up your speed again watching for the telltale signs of his orgasm but this time you finally let him peak and you can't decide if the sound or sight is more dazzling. Either way, you work him through it as evidence of his release spurts over your hand and his thighs in thick ropes. There's an impressive amount of it and you wonder if this is a super soldier thing or if he's just really pent up. When nothing else comes out and he hisses against your touch you let him go. "I'm gonna get a wash cloth, hang tight." You tell him standing from the bed and walking into your bathroom. You rinse your hand first and then soak a washcloth with room temperature water. When you pop back out his arm is draped over his eyes but he otherwise hasn't moved. You start with his neck, wiping the sweat that's probably made his skin sticky. You do a quick swipe across his chest too before moving on to cleaning the remenants of his orgasm from his thighs and recovering dick. "How are we feeling?" You ask him once he's clean. You toss the washcloth in your hamper and grab a water from your mini fridge before sitting beside him on the bed.

"That was- intense." He says.

"Yes but you knew that going in."

"I mean- when you finally let me, you know. It was intense- probably more so than I've ever felt." He says and you giggle at his avoidance of saying orgasm.

"We should really work on your comfortablilty with some of these terms. But yes that intensity is a high some people crave."

"Wow."

"Was it worth it?" You ask.

"What?"

"You said it was the most intense orgasm you've ever had, would you say the payoff was worth the buildup? After all you called it torture."

"You're not even nice about it."

"I was actually very nice, I didn't wait til you were crying to get you off which- is usually what I'll do."

"You make people cry?" He blinks surprised.

"Sometimes." You shrug.

"That's- further than I-"

"I know, that's why I didn't make you cry. Although crying is way more likely with overstimultion anyhow." You shrug.

"Is it?"

"Wanna see for yourself?" You ask opening your bedside drawer again.

"Well I'm not sure I can hand-"

"Here." You drop one of your toys in his hand.

"What's this?"

"A vibrator. I figure it's not fair if every lesson is just me doing things to you like some sort of lab rat so I thought you might want to try overstimulating me. The only other way for that to happen is for you to learn my body but who has time for that? This is efficient and pretty much idiot proof it'll get the job done regardless of your personal experience." You shrug.

"You- want me to use this on you?" He asks wide eyes watching you quickly take off your clothes.

"Yes I do. It's simple, I promise. It does most of the work for you. If you have the energy for it that is." You say.

"Depends on just how simple it is." He says. You sit on the bed next to him and grab his wrist, placing the vibrator in his hand against your clit. It's not on but your insides still clench in anticipation when it touches you.

"Put it here, small circles or wiggling it up and down is fine but keep it in this general area, start with light pressure and press harder as we go. I'll be using the same stoplight system, so here's a couple of preliminary warnings, if I squirm away follow me or hold me down, if I cry that's fine, if I scream let me, ignore me if I ask you to stop or say it's too much. In fact, no matter what, you keep this against me until I call red and I will call red. Sound simple enough?"

"You might cry and that's a good thing?" He frowns.

"It's not a bad thing. It probably won't happen anyway I'm just covering my bases no need to look so terrified." You chuckle.

"How do I turn this on?" He asks after a moment.

"The last button."

"What are the other two?"

"One controls the rhythym and the other controls the power, don't mess with those buttons. For the sake of this lesson they are off limits."

"Last one turns it on?"

"Yes." You nod. Steve stares at the buttons for a moment before a sharp click fills the silence and you jolt from the sudden stimulation. He moves the toy in tight circles, his face pinched in focus. Your hips grind against the vibrator and it doesn't take long for your first orgasm to hit you with a soft moan.

"Oh." Steve says, as if he's surprised.

"Keep going, add pressure." You huff out. Shuddering pants indicate that Steve's done what you asked, your muscles tensing from the continued pleasure post orgasm. The thing with this particular vibrator is that it works quick and you hardly manage to calm down before your second orgasm sneaks up on you. Steve trades the circles for little up and down motions that draw a couple sharp moans from you.

"Are you okay?" He asks.

"Fine Stevie, I'm fine." You say shakily. Your third orgasm comes with a cry through your closed mouth. You know it's impractical to be so mindful of your sounds but you've got to remain at least semi-composed to be of any help to Steve. More and more your body spasms as the stimulation continues, practically twitching from the pleasure. Small whimpers begin to escape with more frequency as you quickly approach orgasm four. On this one your eyes roll back and you allow an obscene sounding high pitched moan to fall from your lips. Steve makes a sound somewhere in his throat which you barely hear. You're starting to feel that bite of overstimulation layering under the pleasure and it makes you squirm. You jerk against the toy, hoping for a reprieve from the buzzing and Steve, the dilligent student that he is, places a hand across your stomach, holding you in place and all you can do is cry out as he presses the vibrator firmly against your clit. You grip the sheets tightly as he starts to make little circles around your too sensitive bundle of nerves, your whole body is shaking as another orgasm quickly creeps up on you with a squealing noise and string of curses. You can feel your brain getting fuzzy, that familiar hedonistic haze threatens to blanket your thoughts, you know if you don't stop Steve soon you'll be far too blissed out to do so and Steve is not equipped to handle that sort of headspace.

"Okay, red. That's enough Stevie." You say breathlessly but firm. Steve quickly moves the toy but struggles to turn it off so you take it from him and turn it off yourself. You take a couple of moments to recompose yourself, ignoring the phantom buzzing and overwhelming wetness between your legs when you sit up and pull your knees to your chest.

"Are you alright? Do you need water? Can I get you something?"

"I'm fine Stevie. How are you feeling?"

"Me? I wasn't the one-"

"The whole point of this was to see if you enjoyed either edging or overstim- having tried both, do you feel like you at least have a better understanding of them like you wanted?"

"I- guess I have a better understanding."

"Well what're you thinking?"

"I thought I would- hate the edging thing but, as... intense as it was there was something, freeing about it? Like getting on a ride at Coney Island and the ending was, worth the build up."

"And overstimulation?"

"It's incredible watching the way your body reacts to such an onslaught. Plus the idea of bringing your lover imense pleasure like that is undeniably delicious, I can see how that kind of thing can be so thrilling."

"Well there you go. Questions answered. You're free to leave." You say.

"Are you sure you don't need anything?"

"I'm fine Steve I'm just going to hop in the shower you've got nothing to worry about really. I've got other things on my schedule of today remember?"

"Alright- if you're sure. I'll see you around. Enjoy your evening."

"Thanks. See ya." You say. Steve seems hesitant to leave but without a reason to stay, he has to shuffle his way out. You let out a sigh after your door closes. You've got a couple hours before your evening plans, good thing, you'll need it. Hopefully one of these days Steve will ask a simple question with a simple answer that doesn't a demonstration.

***

Tagged Users: @chososg1rl

#marvel #marvel fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers smut

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brightwingedbat · 2 days ago

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Meet Bandan Barrelbang, a currently 37 year old pirate charr who left the Blood Legion as a gladium after losing half her left arm in combat. She is almost never seen without her bandana wrapped around her forehead.

She's got a swaggering personality, likes to stir up problems and see what reactions she gets. As long as she's having fun, she's happy. And being a free pirate is a LOT of fun for her.

Originally Felice Flintlock of the Flint warband, some bad judgments in combat lead to taking a severe sword slash on her forearm. She got medical care, but her strict warband refused to keep her on as she'd hold them back with only one hand, at least that's what they said.

The then Felice was all "Fuck 'em, and the legions too for that matter." And left as a gladium. One arm down, but still her right was as keen as ever with both dagger and pistol.

She took to Lion's Arch to try something new, and ended up having an encounter with a charr pirate. At the tavern. With the both of them drinking and flirting. Somehow, this leads to her joining the crew after having spent the night with that one pirate.

Being new on the crew, a bunch of them started to just call her "Bandana Lass" rather than her original name. Over time, this shifted to Bandan and she just generally began to prefer this. She also adopted Barrelbang to her name, still fond of old warband style naming, but more fitting to her role as pistoleer and cannonneer for the crew. Even with one arm, she proves herself time and time again with the crew. At some point the crew also gains a member experienced in engineering, resulting in Bandan getting an experimental prosthesis with a built in firing mechanism, letting her use her left arm as an offhand pistol.

For now, she still enjoys her life as a pirate. Wandering for treasures to loot and experiences to have.

#gw2 #guild wars 2 #charr #Bandan Barrelbang

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quintessenceofdust88 · 2 days ago

Text

Little Blobs, ch.3

Hi you guys! I bring to you a new chapter of Little Blobs, also avaliable on AO3! I hope you guys enjoy it! It's pretty long, so I strongly recommend you read it on AO3, but I wanted to post it here too for those who prefer it ♥

“...A stork plushie?”

Tommy groans, sitting up in bed and blinking at Evan. His husband is lying down on his side, his hand draped over his belly as it’s become his habit in the last ten days. There’s the tiniest bump under his shirt; it’s barely noticeable, really, and they only know because they’ve been avidly looking for it ever since finding out about their blobs. But it’s there, and Tommy smiles as his hand joins Evan’s, even though he sighs exasperatedly at his husband’s idea.

“Where exactly do you plan to find a stork plushie, Evan? And how exactly would that announce your pregnancy to your family?”

Evan shrugs, as he usually does when Tommy points flaws in ideas he thought infallible.

“I don’t know, Amazon?” He says, and before Tommy can think of an answer, he’s already lighting up, sitting in bed with an excited smile. “C’mon, can’t you imagine it? We could put two little bundles in the beak and a plate saying ‘Special Delivery!’. It would be so cute!”

“You’re cute”, Tommy can’t help but say, placing a kiss on Evan’s cheek, and the way he blushes and smiles bashfully, even after eighteen months together, will never cease to make Tommy’s heart skip a beat. “But I don’t know, darling, sounds like a lot of work. And what if someone comes by and sees the plushie earlier? You know our friends have no boundaries, they just drop by whenever”

Evan hums thoughtfully, nodding and then dropping his head by Tommy’s shoulder, snuggling into his chest. Tommy cuddles him close, softly caressing his arm as the two of them try to think of another way to announce their babies that’s cute and not absurdly tacky.

“How about we throw a barbecue?”, Tommy suggests after a while. “We have two weeks before we’re ready to tell, right? So we find a way to get everyone’s shifts aligned, throw a barbecue and just… tell them?”

“Hmmm, I like the idea of a barbecue”, Evan says delightedly, and Tommy snorts; in the last few days, his husband has been liking the idea of any food.

His morning sickness is a lot more subdued, only showing up with some specific foods, and the rest of the time he’s been ravenous. And the worst part is that the cravings are starting to show up; just two days ago Evan asked Tommy to go to the market to get him coconut yogurt cause he desperately needed it. Once Tommy brought it, he had to watch Evan drop Cheetos into the yogurt and eat the concoction as if it came from a Michelin restaurant.Tommy's still not over it, and he's not sure he’ll finish this pregnancy with his sanity intact.

“So that’s what we’ll do” Tommy says, kissing his forehead. “We’ll get everyone together for a barbecue and tell them”

“Yeah, that works” Evan nods, a yawn escaping his lips, and Tommy chuckles; he hasn’t been as sleepy the last week, but is still stealing naps here and there, using Tommy as his personal pillow whenever he’s able (he tries to be able as much as possible; it’s his fatherly duty, after all). “Just us, our family, and food”

“Lots of food to feed my dragon and our baby dragons” Tommy teases, caressing Evan’s small bump, and he gets his hand batted away in retaliation. “We can convince Athena to bring that chicken salad you’ve been craving. Hen already knows, we could ask her to talk to her cake guy”, the mention of good food is enough to get Evan lighting up again, and he nods eagerly.

“Sounds like a solid plan. I mean, what could go wrong, right?” He asks, lying down and closing his eyes as if he didn’t just drop the most famous last words in the universe.

Tommy raises an eyebrow; he’ll never understand why his husband likes to tempt fate like that.

“Sweetheart, don’t take this the wrong way, but it’s your family; there’s always a way for things to get out of track when they’re involved” He quips, lying down too, his face turned to Evan’s.

“Well, you’re not wrong”, he concedes. “But don’t forget they’re your family too, I refuse to take the sole blame for them”

Tommy’s heart feels warm in the best way with these words. He’s been working on feeling like he belongs, feeling accepted as part of their found family as himself, not only as ‘Buck’s plus one’. He thinks he’s making progress, but it always helps to hear things like that. Tommy caresses Evan’s cheek, a small smile coming to his face, and then he presses a chaste kiss to his lips.

“Yeah, they are. Lucky me, right?”

As they drift off, after saying good night to their babies (“Sleep tight, little blobs,” Tommy whispers.

“Tommy, I swear—how many times… You’re really sticking with this, huh?” Evan grumbles, though his smile betrays him.’), Tommy’s smile never leaves his face. And for a moment, he’s willing to believe Evan: nothing can go wrong, right?

(They absolutely can)

Maddie is pretty sure something’s up with Buck. She’s known him since the day he was born, and she’s always able to tell when her brother’s mind is going a mile a minute. She remembers him being like that when he had his first crush in middle school, when he got kicked out of college, when he started dating Tommy. It's a nervous energy that he barely manages to contain, and it's like it buzzes from him.

It's unusual, though, for Maddie not to know what it's about; Buck usually tells her everything. But she won't pry; as difficult as it is for Maddie to accept it, she knows Buck's an adult and has his own way of dealing with things. When he wants to tell her, he will.

“So, are you sure you're free for the barbecue next Saturday?” He asks her for what has to be the fourth time since he arrived at her place for brunch. Maddie is finding his anxiety amusing, if a little confusing.

“Yes, Buck, I'm sure” She says with a chuckle, and then frowns slightly at him. “You really want everyone to be there, huh? Is there a reason for it?”

Buck widens his eyes, his cheeks blushing, and that alone tells Maddie that yes, there's something he's not telling her about this barbecue.

“No!” He denies way too quickly, deliberately not looking at her. “It's just… it's been a while since we got everyone together, that's all”

He's not wrong; it's one the disadvantages of having a family made up of first responders who work three different places. In fact, Maddie doesn’t really remember the last time they managed to get everyone together; she thinks she was still pregnant with Kevin, and her son is four months already.

But Maddie knows this isn’t the whole truth behind Buck’s urgency, and it’s killing her that she’ll probably have to wait another ten days to find out.

“Alright”, she pretends to buy it for now, and that’s when her oven timer goes off. Maddie smiles excitedly, squeezing his arm. “Make yourself comfortable, I have a surprise in the kitchen for you”

Buck smiles at her, that sweet smile of his that almost looks surprised that she thought of him (and Maddie usually feels a twinge of guilt when she sees it), and sits down at her couch. Maddie rushes to the kitchen, taking the banana bread out of the oven. It’s an old recipe, one she mastered during her teenage years, her little brother being the unwitting tester for her experiments.

It quickly became one of Buck’s favorites, a sort of comfort food, and that didn’t change as a grown-up. The first time she baked it for him in LA was back when his leg was crushed by the fire truck, and he still loved it. So, now Maddie bakes it for him whenever she can find the time, which is no easy task for a working mother of two, but her brother deserves it. She can already imagine the easy smile on his face as he eats it, fresh out of the oven.

Except that’s not what happens at all. The moment Maddie brings it to the living room, held in a baking pan and still smoking, Buck’s smile becomes a frown, and he takes a deep breath, his hand covering his mouth.

“Oh, God, is that banana?” He asks, and Maddie nods, trying to understand what’s wrong.

“Yeah, it’s your favorite! Buck, what’s wrong?”

But he doesn’t answer her; before Maddie can even understand what’s going on, her brother is bolting to the bathroom, closing the door behind himself. She quickly runs back to the kitchen, putting the bread back in the oven to hide the smell and grabbing a bottle of iced water from the fridge.

Maddie’s heart is beating fast, and she’s beside herself with worry. Buck’s never gotten sick with her banana bread, never. Hell, she can’t remember ever seeing Buck sick at all, his immune system one of the strongest she’s ever seen. A thousand different possibilities cross her mind, one worse than the other, until her brother comes back from the bathroom, looking pale and like he’s half afraid Maddie will be mad at him.

“Are you alright?” She asks, carefully approaching him and putting the water bottle in his hand. Buck gratefully takes a small sip, swallowing heavily.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I… Banana isn’t agreeing with th- with me right now” He says, voice impossibly small. Maddie notices how he almost wraps his hand around his belly, but drops it at the last second, looking at her with widened eyes.

And well, Maddie may not be a genius, but she sure as hell isn’t oblivious. She gasps when she realizes what’s going on, her hands covering her mouth in surprise.

“Oh my God! You’re pregnant!” Maddie squeals, and Buck looks just like a deer caught in headlights.

“What?! N-no I’m not!” He asks, his voice three octaves higher than normal, and Maddie crosses her arms, unimpressed.

“Buck. You never learned how to lie to me, you know?” She says, and Buck sighs, admitting defeat.

“Alright, I… I am. With twins.” He adds, and Maddie squeals again, even higher this time. wrapping her arms around his frame that towers over her.

She’s ridiculously happy for her little brother. Maddie knows how much he yearned for a family, ever since he was a little boy, and she couldn’t be happier that he’s building one with a man like Tommy.

“Twins?! How far along are you? Are you feeling alright? Does Tommy know? Oh, wait, is that why you’re having the barbecue?!” She asks, talking a mile a minute and half leading Buck to sit on the couch. The idea of being an aunt (to two kids no less!) fills her heart with so much joy.

“Yeah, that’s why” He tells her, an impossibly giddy smile taking over his face as he rests his hand against his belly for real this time. “So you have to keep it a secret, alright? You can’t even tell Chim. I’m just eight weeks along, and we’re really afraid of something going wrong, so…”

“Hey”, Maddie says gently, squeezing his free hand, the one that’s not wrapped around his babies so protectively that her heart feels warm. He’s such a natural parent. “You can trust me, ok? I know I like gossip, but I can keep the important secrets”

Buck smiles at her; if he was a less kinder man, he could remind Maddie of the secret she kept for twenty-nine years, a secret that shaped so much of him without him even knowing it. But he doesn’t, and Maddie loves and admires him even more for it. She hugs him again, resting her head against his chest and her hand against his much larger one.

“I know you can. In a way, I’m glad you know now. I’ve been dying to tell you for a month” He confesses, and Maddie chuckles, snuggling further against him. She can hear his heartbeat, the heartbeat of the boy she raised, and it’s steady and peaceful.

“I am so happy for you, Evan” Maddie confesses, and they smile at each other, Buckley siblings against the world.

Even if it means keeping a secret from her husband. After all, she knows Chim can’t keep a secret to save his life.

Chimney hates secrets. Secrets are like a nuclear bomb and Chim’s like the fuse (do nuclear bombs have fuses? He’s not sure, but the metaphor counts anyway), and he doesn’t like being the fuse, thank you very much. He hates being told secrets, because he hates keeping them. He’d much rather be the last person that gets to know something than the first one. Which naturally means a secret simply drops itself into his lap when he’s least expecting it.

It all starts when Tommy comes over for movie night; Maddie’s at work and Buck’s hanging out with Chris and Eddie, so it’s just the two of them, because Jee is having a sleepover at Albert’s and Kevin is already down for the night (how he and Maddie were blessed with a four-month-old that sleeps through the night, he’ll never know, but he won’t look a gift horse in the mouth and all that). They’re free to watch movies packed with all the violence, action and dirty words that they could want.

(They’re watching Ever After. It’s Drew Barrymore playing Cinderella, there’s nothing in the world that can beat that)

“Say, is Buck feeling better?” Chim asks as he joins Tommy in the living room, handing him a beer. “He was super nauseous at the station the other day, I was worried about him”

Tommy hesitates, taking a deliberately long time swallowing his beer, and then nods curtly.

“Yup. He's all better. Now, are we watching this or not?” He says, staring at the TV screen as if he hasn't watched this live about a thousand times (Chim just knows he has), and Chim frowns.

Usually Tommy never misses an opportunity to talk about Buck, and although Chim has to admit he wasn’t looking forward to hear about his brother-in-law's recovery process, it's at least unusual. He takes a sip of his own beer, wondering how to ask Tommy if everything's alright between him and Buck when the doorbell rings with their pizza delivery, and then he's roped into their age-old game.

Both he and Tommy get up at the same time, staring intently at the door.

“Sit your ass down, Kinard, it's my house” Chim says, trying to hold Tommy down, but fat chance; he's strong, but Tommy's also strong and a lot bigger. He easily squirms out of Chim's grip, already grabbing his wallet from his pocket.

“That's exactly why I'm paying, you pulled this shit last time you came over” He says, and the bastard pushes Chim towards the couch.

His knees buckle and he falls on the couch; by the time he manages to get up, Tommy's already putting two bills in the hand of the delivery boy and telling him to keep the change. Chim sighs in defeat, looking down; he'll pay the next round. That's when he sees a small square paper on the floor, that probably fell from Tommy's waller. As he comes close to it, he sees the words ‘Little Blobs: week 8’ written on the back, with two little hearts adorning it.

Frowning, Chim flips the little square, not in a million years expecting what he sees when he turns it around. It's an ultrasound picture, and there are two embryos in it. At first, Chim chuckles as he looks at it.

“Why do you have an ultrasound in your wallet?” He asks, voice between curious and amused, but when he sees Tommy's panicked look, he takes a closer look at the picture.

And right there at the corner, Chim sees the words that make his jaw drop.

“‘Babies Buckley-Kinard” He reads out loud, and then stares at Tommy, his mouth agape. “Holy shit, Tommy, Buck's pregnant?!”

Tommy groans, taking the picture from his hand and putting it back on his wallet. Chimney can't help but notice the tenderness with which he does that, even if he looks completely annoyed with himself.

“Damn it, I knew I should have left this in my locker”, he mutters, and Chim's thinking it's mostly to himself. “Yes, he's pregnant, but you can't tell anyone”

And there they were, the words Chimney hates more than any other in the world. He shakes his head, putting his hands on Tommy's shoulders.

“Ohhh no. No no no Tommy, you cannot do this to me” He pleads, but Tommy doesn't budge.

“I mean it, Howie! Evan really wants to keep it a secret until the barbecue, so you have to keep it a secret too!” Tommy says, and he might as well have given Chim a death sentence, because if Buck wants to keep it an absolute secret, it means…

“Are you telling me I can’t even tell Maddie?!” He asks, because apparently Chim hates himself enough that he needs to hear it out loud. Indeed, Tommy looks at him as if he’s being particularly slow (he’s not; he’s just in denial).

“Are you kidding me?! You especially can’t tell Maddie, do you know what Evan will do to both of us if she finds out by anyone other than him?!”

“Not to mention what Maddie will do to us if we spoil her baby brother’s surprise” Chim completes, and Tommy nods in agreement. He sighs in defeat. “Fine, I’ll keep it a secret. Serves us right for marrying the Buckley siblings, right?”

“I’ll drink to that”, Tommy says, taking a swig of the beer they’ve forgotten in the whole chaos. “Now c’mon, pizza’s getting cold and Drew Barrymore is waiting for us”

“Hey, wait a second, Kinard” Chim says, and before Tommy can sit back down, he’s wrapping his arms around his old friend’s frame, giving him a tight hug. “I’m happy for you, man”

“Thank you, Howie”, he answers, and there’s a smile on his face like Chim’s never seen before: happy, unguarded and filled with expectations. He wonders if he looks like that whenever someone talks about his kids, and hopes fervently that the answer is yes. “Part of me still can’t believe it, you know? That I’m gonna be a dad”

Chim chuckles and claps Tommy’s shoulder. He remembers feeling this exact way over four years ago, and once more four years ago. It was the best and most terrifying feeling in the world.

“I know what you mean, my man. Part of you will only believe it when you see their little faces the day they are born” He tells Tommy as the two of them sit back down, and Chim opens one of the pizza boxes, and that’s when he realizes something. “Holy shit, Tommy! I’m gonna be an uncle!”

Tommy looks at him with a raised eyebrow, and okay, Chim will admit that this time he was kinda slow. But things had happened so fast, and never in a million years would he imagine himself being an uncle to Tommy Kinard’s kids.

“Yeah, you are, Howie. I guess I should be congratulating you too, huh?” He says, nudging Chim’s shoulder, and they smile at each other.

They’ve known each other for almost twenty years, and Buck and Tommy dating had brought them closer again, something Chim is very grateful for. He’s proud of how far Tommy’s come from the guarded man he met in the 118 station so long ago. Coming out and being with Buck has done wonders for him, and he can only imagine that these babies will do even more.

“Thanks, Tommy.” He says sincerely. “Now, are we watching this movie or not?” Chim quips, knowing when Tommy is done talking about his feelings (it’s a time frame that’s expanding all the time, but he still doesn’t like to push it).

Tommy relaxes visibly when he realizes the tender moment is finished, and nods, shoving pizza into his mouth. They fall into a comfortable silence, watching the movie intently, and Chim tries not to panic when he realizes the enormity of the secret he’s gonna have to keep from his wife.

He can do this, right? --

It’s a great day for a barbecue, Eddie thinks. The sun is shining brightly in the sky, but not too hot to make them go inside. Buck and Tommy are flawless hosts, making sure everyone’s drinks are filled and that there’s plenty of meat to go around (Bobby’s manning the grill, cause some things never change, no matter whose house they’re at).

He sips at his beer, watching their fire family with a small smile on his face. It feels nice, having everyone together, and his happiness is in no small amount related to the fact that Chris is there. It’s been eight months since the two of them came back from El Paso, but sometimes Eddie still rides that euphoria. His son is talking to Denny and Mara, laughing openly; he’s wearing one of the polo shirts he’s been favoring as of late, and he’s had a haircut recently. He looks grown-up enough to make Eddie feel like an old man, but he couldn’t care less; he’s too proud.

“Diaz!” Buck’s amused call brings Eddie back to the present, and he looks up to see his best friend with a smirk on his face. “Care for a refill?”

He’s offering Eddie a closed bottle of beer, and he takes it with a grateful smile, watching as Buck claps his shoulder. Eddie frowns at his best friend; there’s… something about Buck. He can’t quite place it, but he looks… Happy is not quite the word, but it’s the closest one Eddie can think of. He wonders if it’s just about getting everyone together; Buck is very much a gatherer, and being surrounded by his family is important to him. Eddie figures that might be it.

“Thanks, Buckley” He answers, opening it with his hand and taking a sip. “Hey, what’s with you today? Every time I look at you, it’s like you can’t stop smiling”

Buck chuckles and rubs his neck, but the smile still doesn’t leave his face. If anything, it takes a more amused stance, and instead of answering Eddie, he turns around to catch Tommy’s hand (Eddie thinks it’s annoyingly adorable how they two never pass by each other in family gatherings without a small touch; it’s like they’re acknowledging that, even when talking to other people, they’re still each other’s priority).

“Babe” Buck says, a hint of barely contained amusement in his voice. “Eddie is wondering why I can’t stop smiling today” “Ah, probably because your smile is beautiful, sweetheart” Tommy says, pressing a kiss to his cheek, and Eddie, in the position of best friend, finds himself forced to roll his eyes at their sappiness. “Why, is there another reason you can think of?”

He smirks as he asks that, and he and Buck exchange an infuriating conspiratorial glance, as if they know something Eddie doesn’t (which, to be fair, is usually true, but they’re usually not that smug about it).

“Eddie” Buck asks, out of nowhere, the knowing smirk never leaving his face.”Would you mind going inside and checking the oven for me? Bring us what you found there?”

“Oh, have you baked dessert?” He asks excitedly. The last time he had a Baked Alaska was during the Six-Month Crisis We Don’t Talk About, and as happy as he is that those two idiots got their heads out of their asses very quickly, he still misses Buck’s more elaborate baking.

“Why don’t you go and check?” Buck asks, crossing his arms, and Eddie decides the only way to wipe that smirk off his face is to do as he asks.

As he goes inside, he faintly hears Buck calling everyone’s attention, and his hopes get even higher. If he wants everyone to see it, it’s probably a really good dessert. Eddie wonders if he finally managed that spumoni recipe he’d been trying a few months ago (it was a hard recipe, and he and Chris were the unwitting test subjects of many failed attempts; Eddie spent weeks unable to even look at a pistacchio).

He’s extremely surprised, and undeniably confused, when all he finds inside the oven are two small buns. Eddie takes them in his hand, turning them over, wondering if there’s anything else, but no such luck. He frowns; is Buck pulling a prank on him? If he is, Eddie doesn’t get it.

“Buck”, he says, going outside holding the two buns in his hands. “Why are there only two buns in your oven?”

“‘Only’ two? I'd say two is more than enough’” Tommy mutters beside Buck, and that makes even less sense to Eddie.

As he looks up, Buck is looking at him expectantly and, he notices, so is everyone else. Athena particularly is looking at him as if he's being purposefully dense.

“What am I not getting here?!” Eddie exclaims, trying to understand what's going on.

What he doesn't expect is to get the answer from his son, of all people.

“Oh my God, Dad, really?! It’s super obvious!” Chris says, his voice between embarrassed and exasperated. “Buck is pregnant! With twins!”

“WHAT?!” Eddie screams, unable to stop himself, because what Chris is saying makes absolute sense. Buck’s been having nausea issues for weeks; he and Tommy had made sure everyone was there for this barbecue. Buck hadn’t just been happy, Eddie realizes; he’s been glowing.

Eddie drops the buns, in complete shock, and only then he notices he’s the only one who’s reacting that way. He crosses his arms, completely exasperated.

“Why am I the one surprised about this?!” He asks in despair, and Buck and Tommy look at him and then at the rest of their fire family, who are all gathered behind them (except for Jee and Kevin who are taking their naps).

“Yeah” Buck says slowly, crossing his arms. “Why is Eddie the only one surprised about this?”

All of their family, except for Bobby, Athena and Hen, look at the two of them with widened eyes, before everyone starts to exclaim at the same time.

“Oh my God!”

“I am so shocked!”

“I would never have seen it coming!” “Pregnant?! I never would have guessed!”

“Wow, Buck’s pregnant, that’s such a surprise!”

Well. Thank goodness none of them are actors, because they wouldn’t manage to convince anyone. Buck himself doesn’t look impressed at all, and Tommy has that deadpan look of his that Eddie is used to by now.

“...You guys knew already, didn’t you?” He asks with a sigh, and everyone nods sheepishly. When they do, though, Maddie and Chim look at each other with widened eyes and a gasp.

“You knew?!” He asks, and she nods.

“And you knew?!” Maddie exclaims back.

“Tommy made me promise not to tell you!” Chim says, pointing an accusatory finger at Tommy, and Maddie throws her hands in the air.

“Buck made me promise not to tell you!” Maddie clarifies, and Eddie finds himself laughing at their antics.

“Oh my God, are you telling me I’ve been keeping a secret from my wife for a week when she already knew?!” Chim groans, and everyone laughs, knowing how hard this must have been for their paramedic.

“Yeah, I couldn’t do it” Bobby shrugs, looking completely unapologetic as he casually flips the burgers still on the grill. “Sorry, boys, but I told Athena the day you told me”

“Bobby, c’mon!” Buck says exasperatedly, but Eddie knows his best friend, and he can see he’s really not mad. “You said you could keep the secret!”

“Oh, don’t blame him” Athena defends her husband, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “He got home so excited about being a grandpa, he just had to tell me”

Eddie has to give it to her, she knows exactly what to say. Buck instantly melts at her words, looking at Bobby with a besotted smile as he runs a hand on his belly (and wow. his best friend has two babies inside him. Eddie still can’t believe that)

“Alright, so that accounts for Maddie, Chim and Athena”, Tommy says, and then turns to Hen. “Hen, I’m guessing you told Karen?”

“Actually, I didn’t” Hen says, as if only now realizing that, and turned to her wife. “How did you know, babe?”

Karen points a finger to her kids. “Denny and Mara told me!”, and now the two of them are the center of attention.

“Chris told us in the group chat” Mara says casually before taking a bite of her burger, and Denny nods, taking a sip of his soda can.

“Yeah. May and Harry couldn’t be here, but they sent congratulations” He completes, and Eddie’s starting to get the feeling he really missed something, because…

“How did you know, Chris?!” Buck asks, turning to his kid, and so do Eddie and Tommy (and the rest of them, who are still following the conversation like it’s a particularly lively tennis match). “I didn’t tell you! Believe me, I really wanted to, but I didn’t!”

“...Common sense?!” Chris deadpans with a shrug, looking between the three of them. “Tommy has been ridiculously protective over you lately, Buck. You found excuses not to drink beer every time you hung out at our place lately, and I saw you checking baby clothes on your cellphone the other day. It wasn’t that hard to put together. Except for you, Dad, apparently” He smirks at Eddie, the little shit he is, and Eddie can’t help but blush, trying to resist the urge to tell his kid to shut up.

Thankfully for Eddie, everyone decides congratulating Buck and Tommy is more important than making fun of him for being the last to know. There’s a flutter of people hugging them, making good wishes and asking how Buck’s been feeling, then going back to the barbecue, the mood happy and celebratory now as Hen brings out a cake shaped like a stork with two bundles hanging from its beak.

When it’s Eddie’s turn to congratulate them, he wraps his arms around Buck, giving him a tight hug that tries to convey all the happiness he is feeling for him.

“Congratulations, mate, I know you’ll be wonderful dads” He says to him and Tommy, who smiles gratefully, and then Eddie points an accusing finger at Buck. “You told me you weren’t drinking beer because of keto, you lying shit”

“It’s not my fault you believed this bullshit excuse” Buck smirks, shoving his shoulder playfully. “When have you ever seen me refuse beer because of a diet?”

Eddie looks down sheepishly, and then back at Buck and Tommy, who are smirking at him infuriatingly. He just knows he won’t ever live this down.

“Am I really the last one to know?” He asks, because, really, that can’t be true, can it?

“Well, not really, Eddie” Surprisingly, Maddie is the one to answer him. She’s coming towards them with Jee-Yun in her arms, but the girl starts to squirm to get out of her grip as soon as she spots her uncle. “There’s someone who was sleeping during the whole commotion, but wants to talk to her uncles now”

Maddie puts Jee down, and she rushes towards Buck, placing her tiny hands in his belly, looking up at him in wonder.

“Uncle Buck! Mommy says there’s a baby in your tummy! Like Kevin was in her tummy?! Is that true?!” She asks, a huge smile taking over her sweet face, and Buck kneels down by her side, her smile mirrored in his own.

“There are actually two babies in my tummy, Jee-bug! Isn’t that cool?!” He asks, and Eddie can see tears starting to glisten in his eyes.

“That’s right, princess, you’re going to be a big cousin!” Tommy says, kneeling by Jee’s other side, and Eddie’s heart warms at the sight.

Jee-Yun squeals in happiness, talking a mile a minute, and Buck and Tommy look more than happy to answer any questions she has. And she has a ton of questions (‘how do you know it’s two babies?! are they sharing your belly like me and Mara shared a room?! when can I play with them?!’).

“Congratulations, Dad” Chris’ dry remark takes Eddie’s attention away from the cute scene in front of him, and he turns to his son to see him with an eyebrow raised, his expression a mirror of Eddie’s own sarcastic one, which. Wow. Hurts to be on the other side of it. “You’re officially ahead of the four-year-old who was sleeping at the time.”

“Okay, you know what? I’m sending you back to Texas”

He won’t. And Chris knows he won’t, but he laughs anyway, because it feels good to laugh now that it’s over.

They enjoy the rest of the barbecue, and of course Buck and Tommy’s babies are the main topic of conversation from now on. It’s clear the two of them are ridiculously happy, and now that it’s public knowledge, Eddie notices Buck can barely keep his hands from his belly.

Eddie smiles, watching from afar as Tommy does the same, gently rubbing his thumb over the place where their babies are. They’re the perfect picture of a happy family, and Eddie is ridiculously happy for them. Knowing everything they went through as kids, he knows they deserve it.

And these kids can consider themselves lucky; not only they have the greatest parents in the world, he’ll have the coolest uncle to spoil them. Even if he took too long to find out they existed.

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