#and i sent my friends to look all over europe

[emjayewrites]

The Year I Turned 25 • JK + AT (4/10)

SYNOPSIS: Grammy-winning R&B artist Y/N Y/LN, 25, is closing out the North American leg of her tour, riding high on the success of her sophomore album "The Year I Turned 24" - a raw, emotional project born from her public breakup with an NFL player. As she prepares for six weeks in Europe before the international leg of her tour, she's determined to have her own "hot girl summer," yet she’s unaware that she's about to get entangled with not one but two professional footballers - Jules Koundé and Aurélien Tchouaméni - sparking new public interest in her love life and forcing her to confront her fears about dating athletes again.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

PAIRINGS: Jules Koundé x Y/N Y/LN (fc: Ayra Starr) x Aurélien Tchouaméni

WARNINGS: cursing, football b.s., not so glamorous life of a celebrity, mentions of mental illness/misogyny/slut shaming/cheating, drug use (marijuana), drinking, rotational dating, eventual smut, paragon partners/polyamory — 18+ only

TAGLIST: @irishmanwhore, @sucredreamer, @whoevenisthiz, @saturnville, @peyiswriting, @greedyjudge2, @pepfectionary, @cocobutterqwueen, @alika-4466, @julescpu, @lettersofgold, @hopefulromantic1, @a-moment-captured, @serpenttines-library, @f1-football-fiend, @purplelewlew, @elyseesarchive, @enretrogue, @2serenity0, @yeea-nah, @127hydrangeas, @sunfairyy, @pinkcatcus, @muglermami, @shelovesfootie, @bbgkoo, @greyishbach @sinflowersugar @cranberryjulce

CHAPTER 4: X Marks The Spot...

YN was curled up in her hotel bed, scrolling through her phone with a smile playing on her lips as she sent a 'congrats' text to Lewis for winning his race in Silverstone before replying to Javaughn.

Professor Fine 👨🏾‍🏫: Made it to my conference. Already bored. Rather be back on that plane talking to you

YN: Aww poor baby. Give a lecture about Keynes to wake yourself up

Professor Fine 👨🏾‍🏫: A sense of humor AND knowledge of economic theory? Dangerous combination

Shit the only thing I even remembered from ECON 101…

He's cute, her thoughts mused, but not French-boys cute.

Her phone buzzed again:

Jules 🇫🇷: Can I stop by? Miss your face x

YN: Yeah sure

She barely put her phone down when there was a knock. Opening the door revealed Jules with shopping bags, looking good enough to eat in shorts and a fitted tee.

"How did you know I would say yes?"

Jules set the bags on her hotel room's small dining table. "I figured you missed me as much as I missed you."

"Aw, you're so cute." She peered into the bags. "What's in there?"

"Board games and food. Wanted to make the best out of being confined to each other's rooms."

She pulled out Monopoly, UNO, and Operation, grabbing the UNO deck with a grin. "Are you good at UNO?"

"Hell yeah."

"Well I'm the best so prepare to get your ass handed to you." She climbed onto the bed, patting the space next to her.

Jules kicked off his Sambas and settled beside her while she shuffled, their shoulders brushing.

Between rounds of "Draw Four" cards and playful trash talk, Jules asked, "Do you miss home?"

"Yeah, especially my mama's cooking. No offense but German food ain't hitting like her fried chicken and mac and cheese." She detailed Sunday suppers - collard greens, cornbread, sweet potato pie.

"She cooks like this every Sunday?"

"Pssh," YN trilled her lips. "Every day. She lives with me."

"Really?"

"Yeah, we've got this house in the Valley. Made it our own - got a garden with herbs and vegetables, renovated the garage into a gym. We do yoga together in the mornings. She's my best friend."

Jules' smile was soft. "That's sweet. You're really close."

"What about you and your mom?"

His eyes grew distant, fingers fidgeting with his cards. "I was an asshole growing up," he admitted, a shadow crossing his features. "But we got closer, especially since... well, I don't really know my dad." His jaw tightened slightly. "His brother reached out when I was sixteen. Met my half-siblings, but only saw my dad once or twice. He's all over the place. Most of my family - grandmother, cousins - they're in Benin."

"I feel you on the dad thing," YN said. "My sperm donor bounced when I was three. Just walked out on mama and me one day. No explanation, no nothing." She laid down a red seven. "Sometimes I wonder if he sees me on TV or hears my music and thinks 'damn, that's my kid.' But fuck him though. Mama did just fine on her own."

Jules' expression softened with understanding. "Fuck him," he agreed quietly.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ "My mom did everything too. Made sure I knew my heritage, my roots in Benin. Never really struggled with the racial identity stuff like some biracial people do."

"You're mixed?" YN feigned shock. He shot her a look before his mouth quirked into a grin, realizing she was joking. "I googled you after the photo op."

"Oh really? So you knew all of this?"

"Nah," she laid down another card, now only holding two. "Just skimmed Wikipedia. Did stalk your IG though. Feel like you can really get a vibe of someone from their social media."

"Huh," he played his hand. "And what does my IG say about me?"

"That you're a fashion girlie who takes himself way too seriously in photo shoots." His laugh filled the room just as she slapped down her card. "UNO!"

Jules looked discombobulated. "How did you–"

She batted her eyelashes adorably. "Told you to prepare to have your ass handed to you."

He muttered a curse, played his card, and watched her win. "You're cheating or something?"

"Sore loser much?" She clutched invisible pearls. "You should see me play Spades - mama made sure to teach me how to run that game."

"What is Spades?"

Her jaw dropped in shock. "What? How do you not know Spades? Have you not been to any cookouts–"

His wide, toothy grin gave him away.

"Your face!" he pointed, laughing uncontrollably.

YN squinted mock-angrily. "You almost had me, Jules Olivier."

That sobered him slightly. "Ooh middle name? Let me guess, you read that on Wikipedia?"

"Among other things. Like how they say you're 5'11" but you're more like 5'10"."

"5'10" and a half," he corrected.

"Oh wow," she deadpanned.

"Yeah, that half-inch makes a difference," he grinned​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​, adding a wink.

YN smiled at him, letting out a soft sigh. "Nothing like trauma bonding over daddy issues".

"My therapist would call this a breakthrough moment," Jules quipped back perfectly.

A freak AND gets dark humor? her thoughts swooned. The perfect man doesn't exi–

They then moved to the table for ramen, Jules telling her about his post-Euros plans.

"Going to Japan for two weeks. Need to decompress after the tournament."

"That sounds dope."

His eyes sparkled mischievously. "You should slide through."

"To Japan?" She nearly choked on her noodles. "Nigga what?"

"It's still your Hot Girl Summer," he shrugged. "Why not?"

"You want me to stay the whole two weeks?"

"If you can. But a week is fine. I know Auré probably wants to spend time with you after the Euros too."

"Yeah, I'll think about it."

"Alright, chérie."

This man really just invited you to Japan! her intrusive thoughts screamed.

A whole international vacation, her rational side considered. That's... serious.

But watching Jules slurp his ramen, looking soft and domestic in her hotel room, she couldn't find it in herself to panic about what it meant.

All YN wanted was to rot in bed, wrapped in the hotel's fluffy duvet while binging every rom-com Netflix had to offer. She was three UberEats orders deep - having demolished a burger, then Thai food, and now picking at some döner kebab as Brown Sugar played in the background. Damari's interview on "Real Bros Talk" podcast had dropped late last night, and social media hadn't shut up since.

Her group chat with Jazmine and Dominique was blowing up with reactions, and Jermaine had already called four times about possibly releasing a statement. Even her label wanted to know if she was going to channel this into another album.

As if he deserves any more of my creative energy, she thought bitterly, shoving another fry in her mouth.

TheShadeRoom: #DamariRush opens up about his relationship with Grammy winner (you know who 👀), says he "wasn't sexually satisfied" and needed someone to "match his freak" 🤔 [Video clip attached]

view all comments...

ynglobaldom: Not him trying to shame her for being inexperienced when he got caught cheating??? ↳ popculture_tea: The projection is REAL ↳ teamdamari: Maybe if she wasn't so boring… chartdata: Her album about him went #1 though 🤷🏾‍♀️ IDC IDC minaroe: Sir you averaged 3 yards per carry AND 3 pumps max ↳ tsrfans: SCREAMING 💀 deuxmoi: Meanwhile she's living her best life in Europe…

Three-pump chump at best, her intrusive thoughts scoffed. All that gym time for what?

Exactly, her rational side agreed. What's the point of working out if you can't even use that stamina?

Her phone buzzed non-stop:

Mama 💕 Baby girl call me

Big Kyle I'm booking a flight to Cleveland rn. Just say the word

LewLew Bean Ignore that 🤡 You're thriving without him

Jules 🇫🇷 Thinking of you x. Let me know if you need anything

Aurélien 🌹 He's not worth your energy, belle. But I'll beat his ass if you want

Professor Fine 👨🏾‍🏫 How are you doing? I would love to have dinner with you soon...

Enzo 🇮🇹 Bella, don't let him dim your light. You're magnificent x

Carina 💋 These men are trash. Come back to Florence, I'll treat you right 😘

She ignored them all, which wasn't fair to her French boys especially, but she needed peace. This summer had been transformative - teaching her about being open, exploratory, less stuck in her head (because a girl really gets in her head). She'd discovered parts of herself she never knew existed, found strength in vulnerability.

Her therapist's words echoed: "Give yourself grace. You're allowed to feel hurt, but don't let it stop your growth."

So she deleted the Instagram app, cutting off the negativity. She'd found something real in Europe - perhaps not with Jules and Aurélien, but definitely with herself.

After another hour of self-loathing and mindless Netflix, YN dragged herself up. The French national team was already on their way to Munich to prepare for their semis against Spain, and she had a six-hour private coach ride ahead of her.

Get it together, she told herself, cleaning up the UberEats carnage and shoving clothes into her suitcase.

She chose comfort for the journey - matching grey sweatsuit and slides, hair wrapped, not a stitch of makeup. The coach was basically a fancy van, but she wasn't trying to impress anyone today. Just R&R and her thoughts.

Somewhere around hour four, her phone buzzed:

🌹🇫🇷 Group Chat:

Jules 🇫🇷 Made it to Munich x. Miss your face

Aurélien 🌹 Can we see you tonight?

YN Not really in the mood boys

Jules 🇫🇷 We'll cheer you up! Got something fun planned

Aurélien 🌹 Not what you're thinking 😈

YN scoffed out loud.

Jules 🇫🇷 Be ready by 9! Wear something comfortable

She typed out another "no" but deleted it. Maybe distraction was exactly what she needed.

YN Fine. But no funny business

Aurélien 🌹 Us? Never 😏

These boys, she thought, but found herself smiling for the first time all day.

______________________________________________

YN stepped out of the Uber, pulling at her biker shorts as she stared up at the JUMP House Munich sign in confusion. She glanced between Jules and Aurélien, who both looked way too pleased with themselves.

Jules chuckled. "You told us you liked bouncy castles."

"And we even had the employees sign NDAs," Aurélien added casually.

Her eyes bugged out. What the hell? "You rented it out?" YN asked incredulously, tugging her oversized t-shirt back into place.

"Yeah, surprisingly it didn't cost that much," Aurélien shrugged, looking fine as ever even in athletic wear.

They rented it out AND made sure it wouldn't leak to social media? her rational thoughts swooned.

The bar is in HEAVEN, her intrusive thoughts agreed.

"We wanted to hang out with you and figured this would be a nice place outside of our rooms," Jules explained.

Inside was a playground of interconnected trampolines, foam pits, and obstacle courses. They headed straight for the massive free-jumping area, armed with foam balls for an every-man-for-themselves dodgeball battle.

"This is so unfair!" YN shrieked, bouncing and falling as foam balls flew at her from both directions. "Y'all are literal athletes!"

"All's fair in love and dodgeball," Jules called out, launching another attack.

"What he said," Aurélien agreed, showing absolutely no mercy.

The soccer trampoline section brought out their competitive sides. Both men started showing off, doing elaborate mid-air tricks before their kicks.

"Real humble, guys," YN rolled her eyes.

"Your turn," Jules challenged.

To everyone's surprise - including her own - YN managed to score several goals.

"Yo!" Jules' eyes widened. "Coach needs to sign her up!"

"For real," Aurélien nodded appreciatively. "Got that natural talent."

"Les Bleus could use you," Jules added. "I know people—"

"Boy, stop," YN laughed. "Singing is my gift to the world. Besides, y'all just impressed 'cause your standards are low."

"Our standards?" Aurélien raised an eyebrow. "You just scored on a goalkeeper."

"A robotic goalkeeper on a trampoline," she corrected. "Don't get excited."

But watching them bounce around like overgrown kids, demonstrating increasingly ridiculous tricks, she felt the weight of Damari's interview lifting. Sometimes healing looked like getting pelted with foam balls by two French footballers who'd rented out a trampoline park just to make her smile.

And what a smile it is, both her thoughts agreed.

"I need a break!" YN called out, bouncing off the trampoline. Her thighs were burning, but it was worth it.

The workers huddled in the corner, speaking rapid German and sneaking glances their way. She caught phrases like "Koundé" and "Nationalmannschaft." Normally it would stress her out, but those NDAs were ironclad.

Jules and Aurélien followed her to the café area, looking unfairly fresh while she was dripping sweat in very unsexy ways.

Now THIS is how you use stamina, her intrusive thoughts purred, eyeing how neither man seemed winded.

She chugged half her water bottle before speaking. "Y'all are machines or something?"

"Professional athletes, remember?" Jules grinned.

"Belle," Aurélien's eyes lit up as he spotted something across the room. "Want to try the battle box? Like American Gladiators."

YN looked at the elevated platform with foam sticks. "You want me to get up there and fight y'all? Two whole professional athletes?"

"We'll go easy–"

"Absolutely not. My ego can only take so many hits in one night."

"Your loss," he shrugged, already getting up to grab one of the foam battling sticks. "Jules?"

"Oh, you're going down," Jules jumped up, grabbing one for himself.

YN settled onto a bench, phone ready to record this foolishness. The boys squared off on the platform, circling each other like they were in an actual arena.

"Your defense is trash!" Aurélien taunted, taking a swipe that Jules barely dodged.

"Better than your aim!" Jules shot back, feinting left before striking right.

They traded French insults she couldn't understand, but their laughter echoed through the space. Watching them play-fight, seeing this unguarded side of them, YN felt a pang in her chest. Three weeks and four days left of her summer vacation. She'd miss this - miss them. The way Jules' eyes crinkled when he really laughed. How Aurélien's smirk softened when he thought no one was looking.

Maybe they'll let you spin the block when the mood hits, her intrusive thoughts suggested.

"Ha!" Aurélien knocked Jules off balance. "That's what happens when you talk too much shit!"

"Oh, fuck you! Rematch!" Jules demanded, already climbing back up.

For once, both her rational and intrusive thoughts agreed: these French boys were worth keeping around. Even after summer ended, even after she went back to reality.

"YN!" Jules called out. "Come referee!"

"No way! Y'all are too competitive–"

"Please?" They both turned those eyes on her.

Definitely worth keeping, she thought, getting up to play referee despite her better judgment.

_______________________________________________

YN found herself in Aurélien's hotel suite. She couldn't believe what was happening - another date night (hangout?) with her two French baguettes, but this felt different than all the others.

The night started off normal - JUMP house, coming back and ordering room service, chatting the shit, laughing, watching movies.

However, as usual, whenever they were together, things got heated and she now was standing in her bra and panties in front of them.

"You're thinking too hard again," Jules noticed, his hand caressing her shoulder.

"Just processing," she admitted. "Two weeks ago I was overthinking every little thing. Now it feels..."

"Natural," Aurélien finished, his smile softer than usual.

Girl, you know exactly where this is heading, her intrusive thoughts purred.

And for once, we're not overthinking it, her rational side agreed.

They'd never made her feel pressured or insecure. If anything, she'd never felt more desired, more understood. The connection between them flowed like lava - intense but not consuming. The way they looked at her - like she was precious but powerful - made her feel invincible. Made her feel brave enough to want more.

Something that Damari never did...

"We take care of what's ours," Jules said simply.

And that's what she was, wasn't she? Theirs. At least for now, at least for this perfect summer moment.

Her knees hit the carpet as their eyes darkened with promise. They kissed and fooled around already but YN's nerves were now electric, her body humming with anticipation. She watched as Jules slowly removed his shirt, his muscular chest on display, while Aurélien pulled his t-shirt over his head, revealing a glimpse of his toned torso.

"Relax, ma belle," Aurélien whispered, his voice like velvet. "We have all night."

YN took a deep breath, her hands trembling slightly as she reached for Jules's belt first. His warm fingers covered hers, stilling her movements.

"Easy, cherie," he murmured. "Take your time."

She inhaled, the scent of his cologne filling her senses, and exhaled slowly, steeling herself. With a nod, she tried again, her fingers deftly unbuckling his belt and sliding it free from the loops. The rasp of the zipper followed, and she gently tugged his shorts down, revealing his black boxer briefs.

Jules's erection strained against the fabric, and YN's mouth went dry. She reached out, her fingers brushing against the bulge, feeling the heat radiating from him. With a gentle pull, she freed him from his underwear, his thick shaft springing free. She inhaled his musky scent, her body responding with a rush of heat.

Leaning forward, she took the tip of his dick into her mouth, her tongue swirling around the head. Jules's hands found her hair, his grip firm but gentle as he guided her, encouraging her to take more. She relaxed her jaw, taking him deeper, her lips sliding down his length.

"Fuck, yes," Jules groaned, his hips thrusting forward in rhythm with her bobbing head. "That's it, baby, take it all."

YN's eyes fluttered closed, her jaw aching slightly as she accommodated his size. She reveled in the sounds of his pleasure, his praises fueling her desire. Then, she heard Aurélien’s voice, a soft murmur in French.

YN's free hand reached out, pulling Aurélien closer by the waistband of his sweat shorts. He chuckled, his warm breath tickling her ear as he whispered, "Impatient, aren't you?"

With Aurélien’s help, she untied his shorts, sliding them down his lean hips. He stepped out of them, his boxer briefs already tented with his erection.

Aurélien guided her hand to his dick, his shaft hot and rigid in her grasp. He groaned, his head falling back as she stroked him through the thin fabric, her touch tentative yet eager. "Come 'ere, pretty girl. I want to feel that mouth of yours."

YN released Jules with a wet pop, a string of saliva connecting her lips to his glistening dickhead. She turned her attention to Aurélien, her hand pulling his boxer briefs down before wrapping around his length as she leaned forward, taking him into her mouth.

Aurélien’s hands cupped her face, his thumbs brushing her cheeks as he guided her. "Slowly, ma belle. Breathe through your nose."

She obeyed, her breath coming in shallow pants as she took him deeper, her throat working around his girth. Aurélien’s praise filled her ears, his hands tightening in her hair as he began to thrust gently, his hips moving in a slow, sensual rhythm.

"That's it. Suck me." His voice was hoarse, his accent thick with desire. "Merde, YN."

YN moaned around his length, the vibrations sending him over the edge. He withdrew, his dick glistening with her saliva, then he plunged back into her mouth, his hips snapping forward as he began to fuck her face. YN's hands gripped his thighs, her nails digging into his skin as she took him, her throat working to accommodate his thickness.

Aurélien's thrusts became more urgent, his hands tightening in her hair as he held her in place. "You're so fucking good, bébé. I'm gonna cum."

YN's eyes widened, her body tensing in anticipation. She wanted this, wanted to feel him release, to taste him. Her throat relaxed, and she focused on the sensation, on the pleasure she was giving, her own desire spiking with each of his grunts.

With a final, powerful thrust, Aurélien came, his dick jerking in her mouth as he spilled his seed. YN swallowed, her throat working to take all of him, her eyes never leaving his.

Aurélien withdrew, his breathing ragged, his hands roaming over her neck. "You're incredible, YN."

YN's cheeks flushed, her body buzzing with satisfaction. She turned her gaze to Jules, his erection still hard and ready. "And you?" she asked, her voice husky. "Are you ready for more?"

Jules's eyes darkened. "Fuck yeah. Come 'ere." He positioned himself between YN's legs, his eyes locked onto her as she eagerly drew closer. Her tongue darted out, expertly navigating his length. She sucked and teased, her hands gripping his hips as he groaned in pleasure.

Meanwhile, Aurélien moved behind YN, his fingers deftly unhooking her bra. His hands explored her breasts, kneading and pinching her sensitive nipples, causing her to moan, her mouth full of Jules' dick.

Jules's climax was sudden and intense. He groaned, his body convulsing as he released his seed deep into YN's throat. She swallowed quickly, savoring the taste of him as well.

They then led YN to the bed, where she lay back, her eyes heavy with lust. Jules and Aurélien positioned themselves on either side of her, their lips finding her neck and breasts. Jules’s tongue skirted across YN’s neck, sending shivers down her spine. His touch was gentle, almost reverent. Aurélien, meanwhile, was a different story. His hands were rough, his movements urgent.

Aurélien’s attention soon turned lower, his tongue tracing the curve of her hips and the soft skin of her belly. He reached for her panties, tugging them down to reveal her core.

"I've been waiting to taste you," he murmured, his eyes dark with desire. His tongue delved deep, exploring every inch of her, while his fingers danced over her clitoris.

"Fuck," YN moaned, her voice a mere whisper. Her body throbbed with pleasure, her back arching and her nails digging into the sheets as she cried out. Jules continued to kiss and suck on her neck and then her body shook uncontrollably as her orgasm hit her like a freight train. Aurélien lapped up the sweet nectar happily, his tongue darting in and out of her hole.

He pulled away once he was done, a satisfied smile on his face as he sat on his haunches. "You wanna try the Eiffel Tower?" Aurélien asked, a mischievous glint in his eye. YN hesitated, her cheeks flushing.

"It’s your call, YN," Jules assured her, his voice gentle.

"You won't mind if Aurélien and I..." she trailed. A flutter of nerves danced in her stomach. The idea of taking them both at once was daunting but one at time seemed more plausible. Less scary.

Jules gave a reassuring smile. "Nope," he replied, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "I’ve got a thing for watching anyway."

YN rolled her eyes playfully. "Of course you do. Such a freak."

Jules shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips. "If you say so." With that, he moved to the far end of the bed, propping himself up on one elbow, a spectator ready for the main event.

YN was nervous, but also excited. She turned to face Aurelien, who was already leaning in, his grip on YN’s hips tightening. A shiver ran down her spine as he captured her nipple with his tongue, swirling it sensually. YN's back arched into a bow, a moan escaping her lips.

"Showtime, ma belle," he said, a cocky grin spreading across his face. He then turned, reaching for his shorts that were still on the floor. He retrieved a condom from his pocket, tearing open the package with his teeth and sheathing himself. The raw, primal gesture sent a wave of desire crashing over her.

Aurelien positioned himself at her entrance, slowly thrusting inch by inch until he was fully seated within her. YN glanced over at Jules, who was watching the scene with a half-lidded gaze. A pleased smile played on his lips.

"She takes dick so well," Jules remarked to Aurélien, his voice low and appreciative. Aurélien groaned in agreement. "You got the man speechless, chérie. Good pussy will do that."

YN moaned, her attention torn between the pleasure from Aurélien and the thrill of being watched by Jules.

As the pace quickened, Jules began to stroke himself, his eyes fixed on the passionate scene before him. Aurélien’s thrusts grew harder, deeper, driving YN to the brink of ecstasy.

"Fuck, baby!" YN whimpered, wrapping her legs tighter around Aurélien’s waist as his pace became erratic. "Fuck…fuck…"

"He’s fucking you good, huh?" came Jules’ soft voice. "Are you gonna cum, chérie?"

"She’s so tight," grunted Aurélien as he gripped her waist tighter, the sound of his balls slapping rhythmically against her reverberating across the room. "Fuck you’re so wet, bébé."

"Oooh…I’m gonna cum. Shit, Auré, just like that."

Since when was she ever this vocal during sex? But then again, sex had never felt this good, this exquisite, to have her teetering off an edge. YN’s head thrashed back and forth on the sheets as Aurélien’s stamina proved to be withstanding and unrelenting, his hips moving in an almost Sonic-like speed.

From his spot on the bed, Jules continued to stroke himself with fervor, his eyes never leaving YN and Aurélien until he too felt those familiar coils within his body.

With a final, explosive thrust, YN’s body trembled as she climaxed. Aurélien’s wasn’t that far behind, with him emptying his pleasure inside the condom and spent but satisfied, collapsed onto her, his weight supported by his elbows.

Both Aurélien and YN were breathing heavily as they heard Jules utter a curse before exhaling a long sigh, signaling his own release. They lay like that for a moment – the murmurs of post-coital bliss echoing the space, their hearts beating like jackhammers within their chests.

"Well," YN started, breaking the silence. "That was fun."

"Incroyable," declared Aurélien just before he planted a tender kiss to her forehead then rolled off of her to dispose the condom.

"Ditto," concurred Jules, and YN felt the bed shift as he got off as well. "Let me clean you up, chérie."

YN simply nodded and remained still, her body continuing to spasm from the aftershocks of her orgasm.

Not us having back to back orgasms! Love that for us! her intrusive thoughts cheered.

A dopey-ass grin etched on her tired face, and footsteps drew closer until she felt a warm towel gently cleaning her inner thighs.

"Are you good, YN?" wondered Aurélien’s deep voice from a couple feet away. "She looks out of it, Jules."

"Nah, she just been fucked really good, is all," Jules said with a low chuckle as he finished cleaning her up. "She’s gonna sleep like a baby tonight."

I really am.

"Come on, ma belle. Let’s tuck you in." This was Aurélien and YN hummed in contentment as she felt his strong arms delicately lift her body and situate her flushed against his on the bed. Another kiss on her forehead then one on her cheek. "Bonne nuit."

Bonne nuit indeed…

The last thing she heard before drifting off to sleep was Jules’ little giggle and then them whispering something to one another in French.

YN's muscles protested every movement - her thighs especially were giving "day after leg day" energy, though the workout had been much more enjoyable. She stepped into what had to be the biggest shower she'd ever seen, and that was saying something considering she'd had a custom rainfall shower built in her Valley house. But Aurélien's suite was ridiculous, all marble and multiple shower heads and enough space for three people to move comfortably.

Jules' playlist filled the steamy air, his voice joining Brent Faiyaz: "You know you're all mine, all mine..."

"Stick to football, my guy," Aurélien chuckled, washing his hair.

"Like you can do better?"

YN leaned against the marble wall, adjusting the shower cap on her head and the silk scarf beneath, which Aurélien mysteriously had in his luggage (she wasn't going to ask questions, just appreciated that her sew-in was protected). The hot water soothed her aching body.

Last night had been... well.

Her thoughts didn't need to finish that sentence.

Worth the soreness, her intrusive thoughts decided.

Definitely worth it, her rational side agreed.

The domesticity of it all should've scared her - three people sharing a shower like it was the most natural thing in the world. Instead, it felt right. Easy.

"Pass the body wash," she called out.

"Ask nicely," Aurélien teased.

"Please pass the body wash before I slip and die in your fancy ass shower?"

Their laughter echoed off the tiles as Jules handed her the bottle.

What amazed her most was how nonchalant they were - not just about sharing a shower, but about last night too. She still couldn't wrap her head around how close they were, how far removed from the toxic masculinity she'd grown accustomed to with Damari.

Her ex would never. He was always spouting some homophobic nonsense, getting weird about showing any affection to his boys. "What I look like hugging some nigga? That's gay as fuck!" he'd say, like basic human touch would somehow compromise his manhood.

Yet here were Jules and Aurélien, having a full-blown conversation about their upcoming match while naked, sharing space like it was nothing. Zero awkwardness, zero fragile masculinity, just pure comfort with themselves and each other.

A mindfuck, her intrusive thoughts noted.

But the best kind, her rational side agreed.

Maybe this was what real security looked like - being so confident in yourself that you didn't need to police every interaction for "sus" behavior.

"What are you thinking about?" Jules asked, noticing her expression.

"Just… appreciating the view," she deflected with a grin.

But really, she was appreciating how much her definition of masculinity had shifted since meeting them.

The playlist shifted to Travis Scott's "R.I.P. Screw" and Jules started dancing, making YN shoot him a weird look. She turned to Aurélien like is he for real?

Aurélien just laughed. "You should see him in the locker room. He screams out Kendrick Lamar songs like a nutcase."

"And like you don't do the same whenever you listen to Meek Mill?" Jules called out while rinsing off.

Aurélien kissed his teeth. "Whatever, bro." He gently nudged YN forward to rinse. "Anyways, Jules said you're going to Japan with him?"

YN shook her head, squinting conspiratorially at Jules' back as he exited the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist. "I didn't give him an exact answer yet, but I'm thinking about it."

"That's dope," Aurélien said.

"Where are you going, Auré?" she wondered, letting the water wash away the soap.

"Maybe LA with some friends first then Sicily. Why? You wanna come too?"

YN's smile widened. "I can hang with you in Sicily. My first stop is in Rome, so that's perfect."

"Oh that's cool. Maybe I can see your concert before I head off to LA."

"I like that," she said, stepping out as Jules wrapped her in a fluffy towel.

Minutes later, she stood at the counter brushing her teeth next to Jules with Aurelien in the other side, the domesticity of it all making her heart do weird things.

_______________________________________________

Sandwiched between her French boys in Aurélien's massive bed, YN munched on a fruit salad while they watched Challengers. They'd spent the whole day in his suite, the boys returning from practice to find her exactly where they'd left her.

When they got to that scene - Tashi kissing both Patrick and Art - YN's foot-in-mouth disease struck.

"Did you guys just wake up one morning and decide to share that girl in Bordeaux or did you have one of those bro talks?"

Jules burst out laughing while Aurélien shook his head, rolling his eyes. "It was both."

"Both?"

Jules' laughter subsided. "We were young and horny and like I said, Aurélien is my bro, so…"

"That easy?"

"I mean, yeah. And it's every guy's fantasy to have a threesome," Aurélien shrugged.

"Well yeah, but with another guy? I thought it was more so two girls?"

"Yeah, I guess. But there's been conversations in the locker room about running a train on girls and whether people were down—" Jules started.

"Running a train? What?" she screeched. "You guys were like twenty talking about — you know what? Just continue."

Jules scoffed. "It happens a lot honestly. Auré and I aren't into all that. Not with everyone on the team. But he was down and the girl was down… and it was nice."

"So what happened to her?" YN popped a grape in her mouth.

The boys shared a glance before Aurélien answered. "Feelings. We caught feelings and so did she, but for both of us. And we didn't really understand that we could both date her at the same time. Like polyamory wasn't as mainstream as it is now."

"Plus we needed our prefrontal cortex to be fully developed before making choices like that," Jules added.

"And now?" YN pressed, chewing another grape.

They exchanged another look, smirking. "I thought this wasn't a serious thing?" Aurélien quipped.

Touché, she thought.

"Well, I'm just spitting hypotheticals… so hypothetically speaking, if I didn't want to end this and wanted two boyfriends…"

"It'll be hard because you're in the States, but we both live in Spain and spend a lot of time together anyway. It's really nothing but a flight," Jules said.

"What about one-on-one time or is everything just going to be together?"

"We can do both. Jules and I aren't really the jealous types, especially if you're ours."

"And sometimes I just like to watch," Jules winked.

"Your freaky ass," YN sighed, amused and just a pinch irritated.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Jules chuckled.

"It's not–" Her phone buzzed.

Professor Fine 👨🏾‍🏫 In Munich soon. Dinner tomorrow? Would love to see you before heading back to NY

She quickly turned her screen off.

"You don't have to hide who you're talking to, belle," Aurélien said.

Jules gave her a reassuring smile. "Yeah, it's cool."

"I know, but still…"

"Text your other man, YN," Aurélien urged, eyes back on the TV.

After a pause, she replied:

YN Tomorrow after the match? There's this great Italian place near my hotel

Professor Fine 👨🏾‍🏫 Perfect. Looking forward to it 😊

She put her phone on DND and tucked it under her pillow.

"You're so awkward," Jules said.

"Very," Aurélien agreed.

"It's still rude!"

"Are you gonna fuck him?" Jules asked bluntly. She shot him an accusing look. "I'm just looking out for my sexual health, okay?" He held up his hands. "I know about Auré because we did our physicals before Euros and everything's clean with both of us, but adding another partner after Enzo and Carina and now us?"

"I'll take another round of tests just like I did after Carina and Enzo. Safety is my priority too," she said. "But I don't know. He's hot yet I'm not gonna just jump in bed with him. Dinner first."

"Okay," Jules nodded.

"Alright," Aurélien agreed.

"Plus I'm fine with you two," she added with a mischievous grin.

They shot her amused looks as the movie played on.

Who would've thought, her thoughts mused, that summer would turn out like this?

Tomorrow was the semi-final, but right now, curled between them, YN felt like she'd already won.

TO BE CONTINUED...

[aaaaaaaaraaaaaraaa]

🌸 If you get this, answer with 3 random facts about yourself and send it to the last 7 blogs in your notifications, anonymously or not! Let's get to know the person behind the blog. 🌸

I'll do you one better and give you a three truths one lie

[snickerdoodlles]

one of my most formative fandom experiences was a comment i had gotten on a fic i wrote for a halloween themed fandom event.

this was for a manga/anime, so the fic was a general ghost story obviously set in Japan. the beginning of it involved a pizza delivery and while writing it, i had spent like 30 minutes just double checking tipping customs and the types of pizza they serve and even fell down a wikipedia rabbit hole looking up the history of pizza in Japan.

now, i just like the research part of writing, i do stuff like this because i have fun doing it. and while i was writing this particular fic, i had laughed at myself for my 30 minutes of googling that amounted to 2.5 offhand lines in a 3500 word fic. i didn't think anyone would care about or even notice those particular details except for me, especially since none of them were relevant to the ghost part of this ghost story.

except, when i had sent this fic to a Japanese friend, the first thing she said to me about it was "OH MY GOD YOU GOT THE PIZZA RIGHT"

and that was the moment when it had really clicked for me. what had just been 30 minutes of effort on my part had become a moment of relief for her. my friend was far more used to reading ethnocentric fic that ranged from unintentional ignorance to outright superiority against part of her culture (the original story's culture no less). and even with the "innocent" ignorance (heavy quotes on that) far outstripping any outright maliciousness, that's still so many people saying her culture was not worth learning about. the pizza in my story was a small detail, but i had cared enough to put in some effort to check it. and for her, coming from a fic experience where her norm was bracing for hundreds of inaccuracies born of ignorance, especially at that time after a flood of stories centered around "Halloween as a cultural holiday in the US" premises instead of the "Halloween is a commercial gimmick in Japan" reality, seeing someone put in some effort even for minor story details meant something to her.

this also throws me back to the discourse that arose in a french show fandom a few years ago because there were a lot of fic authors that wrote 'dollars' instead of 'euros'-- but when people brought this up as a prevalent issue across the fandom but an easy one to fic/watch out for, many of these writers instead pushed back to complain that they were posting stories for free and it wasn't that big of a deal. which really upset a lot of people, but then this upset was met with a new wave of indignation that people needed to 'get over it' because they're writing fic ~just as a hobby~. but, even if 'dollars' instead of 'euros' wasn't a big deal, by digging in their heels about the issue, they were saying "your culture isn't worth even five minutes of my time or effort."

I've been thinking about these things lately because the ethnocentrism in Thai drama fandoms is...staggering. just over the turn of the year, there were waves of Christmas fic for Buddhist characters. and just. Christmas in Thailand is a tourist thing at best. sometimes a pop culture gimmick for international audiences or maybe an offhand high school thing to blow off steam between midterms. it's not a cultural thing. and even if a character is a part of the Christian minority, a Christian Thai's holiday customs and culture are going to be vastly different than a Christian's customs in the Americas or Europe. and while the Christmas fic is at least finished for now, I'm already bracing myself for the Easter fic wave that also seems to pop up for Thai dramas. it's so frustrating to see this sort of cultural overwrite all the time, especially since most Thai drama holiday works aren't about Thai holidays.

but the thing that really got me bristling about all of this again was i saw a post the other day where op said that they weren't going to write [thai drama] fic because they don't know much about thailand.

what an absolutely appalling statement to make.

google is right there. wikipedia is free. you don't even have to leave tumblr or AO3 to learn more because there are Thai natives in fandom who write essays to explain common elements of their culture. hell, even just watching these Thai stories and considering the values and messages imparted by the narrative framework and story lens tells you something about that culture. the audacity to look at a culture different from your own and say "this is not worth my effort or time to learn anything more about," are you kidding me?!?

the messages and values of a story tell you about the writer's values, which are going to carry their cultural values, beliefs, and biases. Thai culture is going to be heavily relevant to any Thai story, even the ones that aren't explicitly about Thai culture/customs/etc. (hell, Thai bl/gl as a genre alone-- just the fact that queer Thai writers are making these stories in Thailand's current political climate is highly political, even the "fluffy" ones that don't seem to make outright political statements.) to approach any story like it was made in a vacuum is to remove the writer(s)' culture and values and to overwrite them with your own.

especially because this is fandom. these are the lowest stakes to learn! it sucks to see people say things like "but i'm scared i'll get something wrong" and hold up that fear as a shield to justify their ignorance. no one's expecting anyone to get every detail right, especially not for a culture that isn't theirs, just make an effort to learn something new about it. pick out something that caught your eye as different to learn more about and see where it leads you.

and for the record--making a mistake trying to broaden your horizons is a far, far better thing to do than to superimpose your culture on everyone else's because you're scared to confront your ignorance.

edit: check out this reblog thanks

[simp-ly-writes]

Love is Blind

─────── · · A Smosh FanFic

Pairing: Spencer Agnew x gn!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: Smosh Games is making another title in the smash hit board game series, love is blind, but is it all fun and games- or will you actually end up winning something worth a lot more?

─ · · TAGS: gender-neutral pronouns, super tooth-rotting fluff, part social media au, suggestive themes, attempt at humour, a bit chaotic but the vibes are there.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 1,570

─ · · A/N: let us all thank the anon that sent this request it! 😊

─────── · ·

"Hello everyone and welcome to the Smosh Games channel today we will be finding out is definitively, is love truly blind? And as you can all see, I am joined here with (name), Amanda, Arasha, Olivia, Spencer, Chance, and Trevor for the first time in this shows history!" Angela introduces the viewer as you all way and cheer for Trevor who hides behind his wine glass with a playful smile.

"How are we all feeling today?" Angela asks the table and Amanda leads first. "Heyyyy, My names Amanda I'm 25 and my friends told me to come on this show. I ummmm, am from New York, yaaa! And I love to party, I work as a marketing assistant!"

"Hi, I'm Olivia, 44, I was told we win money on this show-?" Amanda leans over whispering a loud no, and you laugh as her shoulder drop. "Well, I was going to be on this show to win but now I'm just here for the drama and if I find love, great, whatever- I work as a scientist, can make more money."

"Hello, Name's Trevor and I work in digital media, I-uh am 20-something and love to cook!"

"Its Arasha and I am 20, this is being filmed and Europe so don't you dare take this glass away from me! I work in Digital media as well and if my first date is a walk on the beach, just know that there won't be a second date, m-kay?"

"Sup, I'm straight-Chance and you all have no-chance if I'm the other one in a love triangle. I am 22 and work as an actor, catch me in films you never knew about!"

"I'm Angela, 50, sales, have been divorced thrice and am looking for my fourth special-someone."

"Ummm, hi? I'm (name) i'm (age), and work also in Digital Media. I-uh love table-top games and yeah"

"Hi, I'm Spencer, 33, and also love table-top gaming..." You and Spencer both look at one another with a smile before looking towards Angela as she quickly goes over the rules and the game commences.

─────── · ·

Early on, you were not matching with anyone and that was making you nervous. Sure it was a silly game in all but you were competitive nonetheless and seeing as Olivia, Amanda, and Chance all had multiple connections while you had one and nearly a half, you knew that your odds didn't look great.

"Okay!" it was your turn to read out a question card. "For a date I would: A. Rather stay inside, B. Go out to Dinner. C. Go for a Walk-"

"Fuck the walk," Olivia slammed her card down before you could even show your decision, the cast erupted with laughter as you didn't bat an eyelash and turned over your card. "I said A. Stay Inside. I was thinking we could have a movie night at home or just order in. More intimate that way," you explain. Suddenly feeling the reality of the game come to life as you nervously waited on your peers answers.

"the results are in and only one A... hm" you commented, checking it off on your card with a small from. This unknown person was really running away with your scorecard, only one more point and you could propose- potentially winning the game. It was time to lock it in.

Round after round, question after question, you and this person were connecting effortlessly, it even had you questioning if you had both broken the game by how in-sync your answers were. So much so that the other members of cast started wiggling their eyebrows in your direction as your cheeks warmed.

"Okay guys! Its only just a game but a game I do intend to win!"

─────── · ·

So focused on creating a strategy to match your unknown match, you were none the wiser to Angela calling out your name multiple times.

"C'mon you are sounding like my ex-wives, never listening to me. Please stand up, I have something to say, no one else is playing the purple character" Angela yelled across the table, pointing in your face as you held your hands up and walked around to stand in front of the table.

"(name), even though we both have not known one another for long, I have fallen so in love with you. More in love than my other two, or was it three wives? and however many children I father... just know that I want to have you be mine. Please marry me?" Angelas voice cracks near the end, she conceals her laughter by biting her shoulder as you bring up your hands to your mouth to do the same.

Your eyes are clouding in tears before you burst out in laughter and say no, watching as she collapses to her side and bellows out dramatic cries before standing back up and asking Olivia to come over, they both end up getting engaged.

"I would actually like to call someone forward. If the blue character could greet me at the front, please." And to your shock (and internal horror yet delight), Spencer steps forwards, your eyes wide as saucers as he smiles at you. Forgetting what to do Spencer looks down, reminding you to propose much to everyones enjoyment and your embarrassment as Tommy shouts out from behind the camera, "Could love truly be blind???"

"Shut-up, please! Spencer, I-uh. Well we have connected a lot over this game, we see eye-to-eye and have formed a meaningful connection over these hours that have felt like years. I never knew someone could match my freak, so to speak and would you do me the honour of marrying me?" you take the ring out of your back pocket, presenting it to Spencer who appears to have the blush of his own.

You both stand their still in that moment, forgetting the cast, crew, and cameras, "yes, I do- I mean yes I will marry you." Standing up to place the ring on his finger, you both hug and hold each other for a moment too long for what should be a cut scene before taking to your seats.

In all honesty, you both forget that you are still holding each others hands after the cut-scene and it carries through to the end of the game.

─────── · ·

The drama continues yet for you and Spencer, it was smooth sailing as you both did not go out looking for a 'better connection' and end up making it to your wedding day. you keep having to remind yourself that this is a mere fantasy, a game but it feels too real as Spencer takes your hands in his own, smiling and whispering jokes for only you to hear as Tommy reads out your vows.

"And do you, Spencer, take (name) to be your lawfully wedded spouse? In sickness and in health? For richer or poorer? For both as long as you shall live always?"

"yes, I do," Spencer says, placing the ring on your finger, bringing it up to his face for a kiss as your face heats up more than it has all game. "And (name) do you take Spencer to be your lawfully wedded spouse? In sickness and in health? For richer or poorer? For both as long as you shall live always?"

"I do." And the cast and crew all stand and cheer as in that moment you both debate on kissing one another. "Are you playing?-"

"Never," Spencer eases your worries, "could I kiss you?" he asks in a soft tone, wanting to cherish the moment you both know to be real.

"Yes, please." And then his lips are on your own, the world silenced yet again, his had cupping your cheek as you lean into his touch.

─────── · ·

When the cameras cut, your lips still tingling and your face set with an unmoving smile that Spencer mirrors. You two are the only ones left on the set as Spencer leans against the table, "I know this seems a bit weird considering that we're married-" you laugh before asking him to continue with hopeful eyes as he reaches out to hold your hand, you accept, fingers intertwining.

"Would you want to go out sometime?"

"Yes, I would really like that."

─────── · ·

🔔 Spennser just posted, check it out!

─────── · ·

Liked by trevorevarts, ianhecox, co_mill and others

spennser first date and just married, quite the day! w/@.yourusername

View all 1,245 comments

yourusername you forgot engaged too*

↳ spennser sorry my bad 😞

username24 if you two didn't end up going out after THAT episode, I would believe that love is dead, not blind... or well maybe both idk

Ianhecox this post is doing numbers, please make more videos together, we need these profit margins 🙏

co_mill you two are so cute, can't wait for when you actually get married! 🥹

↳ spennser who says that that wedding was fake? 🤨 ↳ co_mill no, you are correct. I have no idea what I was saying earlier, beautiful ceremony, now can I have your spouse? ↳ spennser no ❤️

username88 no @.username01 comments?? What in the world is happening here??

trevorevarts cograts, cograts, congrats, and congrats (I think I got them all?)

anthonypadilla I leave smosh again for one day to go to the doctors and now another pair of you are getting married, wtf?

─────── · ·

─ · · SPENCER AGNEW TAGLIST: @lisiliely @missflufffanfics @little-stitious-studios @thejourneyneverendsx @sibsteria @lizzylynch1 @babble2 @delaneyburghardt @thevintagefangirl @uniquely-haunting @maricarorp @sarahskywalker-amidala

[awordsmith]

where you came from 𝜗𝜚 s.r

۶ৎ in which you receive a letter detailing the death of your grandfather, head back to your hometown, and wonder if you ever should have left.

katcember

who? spencer reid x bau!reader when? s8 category: angst to fluff (comfort) content warnings: proofed! not much sad angst (more sad angst if that makes any sense), death of a family member/funeral, reader's hometown is in Europe (purely for aesthetic), more plot than spencer (kind of idk) reid with warmth word count: 11.2k a/n: this was my one of my first ideas when first posting on tumblr so i really do hope you enjoy it! there are a few words not in english, but sometimes when writing in english it's easier to say something in another language because english can be really...corny sometimes...anyway ily cari !!

The loops and curves connecting the words in that elegant font you grew up learning stuck in the back of your mind like a non-removable tumor. You could feel it. You had a time limit–but not to live. Two days. In two days you would go back to Europe, back to a continent you had thought you’d left behind years ago, a place you had thought you held no attachment to… no emotion.

Maybe, though, it was the fact that you had been gone so long, had not once gone to visit in all your time in America, and now–now your time had run out–or rather, another, no longer invisible hourglass had lost the last of its sand and someone had flipped it again, setting a new timeline in motion.

Your grandpa, your beloved nonno*–oh how you just couldn’t believe it. 

It had hit you so suddenly, your mother normally sent you letters, you didn’t mind her old ways, she was raised by the man who taught you cursive and calligraphy–with craft you thought ancient, and technology was still rather new, and she wasn’t one to conform to change.

You sighed, shifting in your seat as Hotch and the rest of the team gave the profile. The lights were too bright; you stared at the floor, one leg crossed over the other, and your arms folded. You tried keeping your focus. Yes, you were dealing with your own problems, and yes, you had just gotten the letter yesterday, but these children needed you now–and if you couldn’t be at your best with a personal issue weighing on your shoulders, could you even call yourself an FBI agent?

Emily had just left the team a month ago and her replacement wasn’t bad, but she wasn’t Emily. You desperately needed your friend right now, your soul sister. She could tell you what to do and how to handle things like this, she’s been doing this a lot longer than you, has more experience–and she understood you, at least where family matters were concerned.

“You okay?” Spencer whispered as the officers went back to their desks or collected in groups–some even leaving–probably to talk about the best course of action. This guy was going to strike again, every indication of it was there on the board.

“Yeah,” you sighed, feeling your stomach growl.

He furrowed his brows, “when’s the last time you ate?”

“Uhm,” you stood, rubbing your wrist, “I’m not sure, but I’m fine, really,” you gave him a tight smile walking over to the board, “We know he’s targeting school busses on their drop off, he’s insecure about something, his physical strength? That’s the only reason he’d subdue the bus driver in a blitz attack.”

Spencer called your name–almost as a whine–and you paused. “Look,” he said, “I don’t think the rest of the team’s noticed, so if you eat, I won’t say anything…”

You frowned, rubbing an eye, “fine.”

You’d think a look of triumph came over him, but you’d be wrong. He looked resigned, but not indifferent, it was more of a soft relief. Spencer had no idea what you were going through, you hadn’t told anyone–and you weren’t really planning on it. You liked to keep your personal life separate from work as much as possible, that’s one of the reasons you and Emily had clicked so well–you were nearly identical in that department, and, well, you both could agree Clyde was a little bit of an ass. You’d never worked directly with her during her Interpol days, but when she left, Clyde became your team lead, and–well, actually, that’s, pretty self-explanatory.

A few years in, you were able to transfer to the BAU, you’d performed considerably well and Clyde had recommended and vouched for you and–well, Emily knew Clyde, okay perhaps your connections helped a little, but was it really your connections or your skill because without your skill, you wouldn’t have been recommended now would you have?

Regardless, you had known how massive the opportunity was, which is why you’d said yes without a second thought. You joined the team two years ago, when Emily had shown no sign of leaving. You sighed, rubbing your hands together, they were sweaty and you felt sick, maybe you should try eating something.

“Alright,” you affirmed again, “come on you’re driving.”

You threw the keys that had been lying on the table next to the board at Spencer, he’d been close to Emily too, you assumed they still spoke sometimes when they got the chance as you did with her. Your mutual bond was probably–at least you considered it the most probable–reason for why you grew so close in such a short amount of time.

You were close in age, too, which you assumed added to the comfort.

Spencer took you to the closest fast food and you ate in the car devouring each bite. He asked for coffee and “real” sugar on the side, and then he sat there and watched you eat, and when you were finished he drove you back to the police station. 

The case took you to Santa Monica, California. Penelope had ushered you all into the room as soon as you’d got into the office this morning, honestly, you were expecting it, and with the hurriedness she had, you knew it couldn’t be anywhere near good–though you considered none of the cases you received “good”, this one involved children, and it seemed they were the prime target, but what you couldn’t figure out was why.

He didn’t kill all the children–in fact, in both cases, the unsub only killed three kids; it seemed as if he was targeting specific children, but they all came from relatively different backgrounds, and both schools–when considering the environment and looking at it from a geographical perspective–weren’t at all in near-to-similar neighborhoods. Even the two kids that were killed on the same bus had no connection, they weren’t friends, the witnesses said the boys stayed away from each other unintentionally, they just never seemed to cross paths and it just did not make sense.

You wanted–no needed–to figure this out, for the next potential victims–but the team had no clue as to which school he’d hit next. For this reason, Penelope was emailing schools at the masses to keep them on high alert.

“He’s targeting school buses,” you said, taking a sip of your water. “Not schools…” Spencer nodded and you asked, “Why?”

“Perhaps something happened to him on a school bus?”

“It’s important,” you agreed, “but wouldn’t that make him–like–fifteen?”

“No,” Spencer shook his head, “a fifteen-year-old wouldn’t have this much time, he’d have been caught by now.”

“The survivors say he wore a mask, he called the students by name–”

“But not their name–maybe he’s living in a delusion?” Spencer’s speaking sped up, “maybe he’s not fifteen but he’s reliving his teenage days. Maybe he was bullied and now he wants revenge?”

“Okay, but that doesn’t explain going after high school kids now. Why not just go after the people his anger is directed toward?”

“Because he can’t? Maybe they’re substitutes?”

“We need to tell the others.”

Spencer nodded, you rushed out of the car and into the police station, catching Morgan, Hotch, and JJ leaning over a phone, talking to Penelope. You explained your theory and funnily enough, Penelope had just found school records that supported it. Each victim had been suspended within the past year, accused of bullying or inflicting some type of physical or mental pain on another student.

Complaints about the victims were filed by students, so now you knew your unsub had access to all this information, the question was what title did someone need in order to garner this details.

“That has to be how he’s choosing his victims,” Morgan said.

Hotch thought for a second, then nodded, “All alright, call Rossi and Blake, tell them to get here, Penelope, are you still on?”

“Running and ready, sir,” she confirmed, “All alright, give me a list of the next potential targets, all kids who have been suspended or complained about in the last year due to bullying, narrow the search to males, fifteen older.”

“Sir, do you want me to narrow the search between the two schools?”

“No,” Hotch sighed, looking each of you in your eyes, “I want the entire city–”

“Hotch–” 

Spencer’s eyes narrowed in confusion, but Hotch cut him off, “you really want to sit around waiting for another body?”

Everyone went silent and Spencer’s eyes flitted to you for a moment, almost as in reassurance.

“He’s right, Hotch,” you stepped forward, trying to push away all thoughts of what was to be expected of you in two days.

“You,” Hotch narrowed his eyes as if just now suspecting something was up with you. 

A silent staring contest ensued, though it was quickly broken when an officer burst into your makeshift bullpen. “Another body was discovered.” Your heart sunk and you glanced to Spencer for comfort, his eyes drifting to yours for the same thing.

It always just seemed a little bit more painful when children were involved. Your stomach lurched and you felt sick, wanting to throw up the food you’d just eaten. You just wanted this all to be over so you could focus on your family issues. It might have been selfish, but wasn’t that your right? You couldn’t think about this right now, you needed to find this guy before he murdered another innocent kid.

“Give Garcia the geographical point and have her narrow the search.”

Hotch directed at Spencer, turning to JJ, “Stay here, help him and Rossi figure out what career our unsub might have. Morgan go Blake to check out the new crime scene, and,” he turned to you, “Come with me.”

You turned to Spencer one last time, not wanting to leave him. You were always together, working together, that is. Hotch never split you up so you thought there must be a reason for it now, but why, well, you couldn’t know for certain. You shook your head and followed him out the door. He seemed to wait for you with pause, his expression unreadable, almost like he was analyzing you. You tilted your head in warning and he finally relented.

“Let’s go.”

From that point forward, there wasn’t really much of a struggle, it just sucked you had been called in so late, and that another kid had died before you caught the guy. Four kids in total, three crime scenes. The ride back on the jet was tense.

Everyone seemed to need their own space whenever you dealt with a case like this, you, well, you’d play with Spencer’s hair, if you were really tired, he’d let you lean against his shoulder or use his lap as a pillow and sleep. This time, though, you were restless and you couldn’t find the need to sleep anywhere. You knew you probably should,but…it was just too much.

You couldn’t stay seated, you paced back and forth, your mind fleeting from the case to the letter you’d received yesterday. You’d brought it with you and you hesitated only for a second before pulling it from your bag and sitting in one of the empty rows. You could feel eyes on you, though they were trying to pretend they weren’t looking.

You wanted to say you could see them, say you weren’t in need of monitoring, but you were the youngest on the team, and despite your closeness, with Emily particularly, they all cared for you, which is why when JJ slid into the seat across from you you resisted rolling your eyes.

“Are you okay? You’ve been kind of… not yourself.”

“I’m fine, JJ, thanks.” You returned your eyes to your mother’s letter.

“You sure?” she asked, “is it your mother? Has something happened?”

She motioned toward the letter. They’d gotten accustomed to seeing you read over the renaissance looking artifacts throughout the day. That wasn’t the unusual part, no JJ was talking about how you weren’t attached to Spencer’s hip, how you avoided them all almost the entire day, and how you had been so focused on the case as if you were trying to make something else dissappear.

“We’re all here for you, you know.” She reached her hand out, rubbing her thumb over it.

“Yeah,” Morgan motioned for JJ to scoot over, “we’re a family, you know.”

“Aww, I wish I was there,” Penelope said from the other side of Morgan’s phone. You wanted to scoff, but a sad smile pressed to your mouth instead. They were cornering you as if they’d planned it.

Your eyes flitter over toward Rossi and Hotch who were pretending not to listen and Blake, who was evidently really not, then they landed on Spencer’s who stood suddenly from his normal spot in the front of the jet and began walking toward you. “See, even pretty boy’s upset.”

“I am not upset,” Spencer scoffed, sliding into the seat next to you. But then he held your gaze as if trying to communicate with his eyes, “but we are here for you, you know I’m always here, and…I’m sure if you called, Emily would be too.”

You took a breath, and when it came out it was shuddering, and that was the first time crying had crossed your mind. So, you said–first in general, “My grandfather just passed, I’m supposed to leave in two days for his funeral.” You let them take it in, then, “I need time off, Hotch.”

A snort came from Rossi and the team frowned at him, but you smiled, why was he so unserious all the time? You rolled your eyes, but then Penelope spoke up from the phone in Morgan’s pocket, “if you need someone to go with you, I’d be willing.”

Your eyes swelled at her offer and you opened your mouth to say ‘Really?’ but Spencer said, “I’d go too–you know, if you wanted that is,” before you could open your mouth.

“Thank you,” you nodded, “I’d like that…and you know…it wouldn’t hurt if the rest of you came as well,” your admission scared you, what were you doing? This is the exactly the opposite response Emily would have given, but maybe you weren’t as strong as Emily, and maybe…maybe that was okay.

“When are we leaving again?” Rossi sighed, pulling out his phone, “I’ll have to check my schedule.” And with that you let loose a snort, appreciating the kindness of your team.

“Jack, Will, and Henry are welcome to come as well.” You said, “And that girlfriend of yours, Hotch,” you added, “I think I’d be able to brave my family again if I had the Guardians of the Galaxy with me.”

“What about Strauss?” JJ suddenly asked, “What are we gonna tell her?”

“Oh you let me worry about her,” Blake smiled, though you had been sure she wasn’t even listening.

“You’re from Europe right?”

You huffed a sigh, “Yes, Rossi, I’m sure we’re not cousins.”

A few chuckled as Rossi responded with a nod and a smug grin,  “Just checking.”

You claimed the window seat, forcing Spencer to sit in the middle, though you had to climb over him multiple times to use the bathroom, you didn’t care, and neither did he…much. You thought you’d be able to sleep, but just like on the jet, you found yourself restless, and Spencer, well, he couldn’t help but ask.

The first question was simple, “how do you feel about going home?”

You laughed, a bitter expression framing your face, “I don’t know.” You were lying, though he wasn’t sure if you knew that fact yourself as you seemed genuine. The only way he knew for sure your response wasn’t what your subconscious truly thought was was by the way your lips pressed together right before you spoke, that was your tell.

He didn't know if you knew you did it, but he’d caught on to it pretty quickly when you’d first met, it had been something small, but he remembered it as clearly as if it were playing out right now in front of him. It had to do with your favorite food. Morgan had said he’d overheard you talking to Emily about how you wanted a certain order from this new restaurant because it tasted like the one you had back home, and to surprise you, he had brought it in one day and set it on your desk, brimming with energy to see your reaction.

You were confused at first, but when you saw him, you’d grinned, prying to box open, then your eyebrows had shot up and he’d asked you if it was your favorite food. You’d pressed your lips together and nodded, grimacing with the first bite, “I love it, thank you.”

Later on, he’d smacked Morgan for the first time upside the head, running away quickly after, Morgan had chased him for some time until Hotch had told them to stop acting like, “idiots,” and thst, “Jack acthas better self control than you two most days.”

“Do you have any pets at home?” He asked, watching you stretch out your arms above your head, deflating against your seat.

You smiled, “I used to have a dog, but she died before I left for university.”

“I’m sorry,” he frowned.

“Don’t be, she wasn’t really mine, but my sister’s.”

He nodded, it was early morning, everyone had gotten up way before they’d wanted to, except him. He was ready to go a bit too early, and when he’d picked you up at your apartment, it seemed as if you hadn’t slept much either.

“Hey, Spencer?” You suddenly whispered.

“Yeah?” He stared down at you as you began to move, causing him to shift until his body aligned with yours and your back hit his chest.

“Do you want to hear a boring story?” He quirked a brow, brushing a few strands of hair out of your face. To the normal eye, you seemed incredibly close, strangely close–a couple kind of close, but to the team and between the two of you, it was more like the relationship Penelope and Dereck had, although instead of heaty words, it was comforting gestures like this, that, and you were always attached at the hip, you were partners with each other before anyone else, work partners that is.

“What’s a boring story?” He asked and you didn’t know if he was trying to be poetic, but it brought a smile to your face.

“My grandfather,” you focussed your eyes on the window, finding warmth in being pressed against him, his arms acting as a blanket that wrapped around you. “He was old in age, I mean, I knew that even when I was a kid, but there were times,” you shook your head recalling the moments in your mind.

Spencer kept quiet, listening intently as he rubbed circles on the exposed inner corner of your elbow.

“He would take me on adventures and back then, he seemed so young, so exceptionally immortal. It was otherworldly,” your voice got quieter as you continued, “I don’t know how to face him,” you sighed–God it seemed like all you could do for the past 45 hours was sigh.

“Tell me,” he whispered, “tell me about the adventures.”

You paused, turning your head slightly to see him, you’d done this countless times, but for some reason, it seemed more pertinent now. More….significant, “my grandad,” you murmured, “he was my captain. That was the game. We’d go to the pier sometimes, or the forest, and he’d always have these elaborate scavenger hunts set up in advance. He really–” you blinked and breathed, “...he was really good at things like that.”

“Setting up games?” Spencer asked incredulously, but you knew it was good-natured, meant to bring the smile that had so evidently fallen off back to your face.

“At crafting and cultivating imagination.”

“Ah,” Spencer nodded, “yeah how did I miss that?”

You smacked is chest playfully.

“How do you feel about seeing your family, how long has it been?”

You gazed out the window again, there was low chatter around the plain, it was dark, the lights were off, and most people were asleep. You pondered briefly about why Spencer was still up and deigned to ask him when sunlight shone through the window, blinding you momentarily. It wasn’t a lot nor was it as bright as you were used to, and it was quickly hidden behind the clouds once more, but you smiled at it anyway.

“A new beginning,” you raised your hand, blocking the slight sunlight that filtered in now and then, not really sure what you meant.

Spencer chuckled, reaching out to grab your wris. He held it, waving it around as if you were casting a non-verbal spell.

“We don’t have to talk about it now,” he whispered, “but whenever you’re ready, I’ll be here.”

“I know you will,” you replied as easily as if you hadn’t said anything at all. “You always are.”

And again, for a moment, you pondered why that was, why Spencer always seemed to be the only person–other than Emily–who was always there for you when you needed someone, why he was the only person you wanted there when things went wrong. 

It was a question that had bubbled up over the last month since Emily had left. You’d begun to lean on him a lot more, yes, but you could very well just have as easily called Emily. Spencer wasn’t lying, you knew she would pick up no matter what, but oddly, you found you didn't want to call her because–you already had the person you needed with you. And he would always be there, even if you stopped working together, Spencer would always be there.

You were sure you could call him in the middle of the night and he’d come running. But why would you want to? You shook the dangerous thought away. 

“It’s sunrise,” he said, pulling your attention back to the window. Slowly, he brought your hand to once again rest on your stomach.

“We still have about 5 hours,” you sighed, noting the time.

He leaned back, shifting in his seat, “Then we better get comfortable.”

You wondered what you’d do first when you landed, would you have so much jet lag you wouldn’t be able to see your family for some time? Would you be able to sleep? Finally? Where would your grandpa be? Probably at the funeral home. Would other family members be traveling into the city for the funeral? If they were they’d have to stay at the main house, there wewould be no other space available in the others.

You were only staying three days, and if Stauss called you in early, you’d have no choice, but to leave before that. You were able to solve one more case before you left, though you had still strained for sleep, everyone else seemed to be a little overly excited. Blake stayed to help other teams, she was new and you weren’t that close, though she didn’t seem to mind.

She was like Rossi in that department, unable to take days away from work as she ran on catching these guys. But for you, and everyone else on the team, you were sure, you couldn’t wait for your days off.

They were the closest thing you got to normalcy, that and time with Spencer outside of work, it was time in your world, one where bad guys didn’t exist, one where you could escape into the realities of a Charlotte Bontë novel, one your grandpa had gifted you before you could remember a life without it.

You wanted to thank Spencer, but you didn’t know how. You wanted to thank everyone, really, but Spencer most of all, and instead of thinking about why, of letting it plague your thoughts, you leaned further into him, rubbed your face into his soft sweater vest, and closed your eyes.

Penelope threw her head back as she grabbed her suitcase, “where to now?” Spencer pushed her sunhat out of the way. She was in for a rude awakening, it was winter in Europe, and though most people were on holiday, that only meant the airports would be extra lively.

“First, let’s make sure we have everyone.” You began counting of heads, narrowing your eyes, “where’s Hotch?”

“We’re here!” Jack came running, Hotch sprinting after him. It was not too odd a sight, for you to see Hotch in dad mode, he normally had that look on when Spencer did something stupid or Penelope said too much on speaker–but this, oh this was gold.

Rossi snapped a photo with an old camera he’d brought along, chuckling when Hotch glared at him. “Alright,” you nodded, noting Hotch’s girlfriend slowly filling the space beside him. “Now, my immediate family isn’t that big, but the rest of the family does live in the same town, so you’ve all been assigned housemates.”

“Housemates?” JJ raised a brow.

“I’ll,” you checked the time, “explain on the train, come on.”

You were honestly surprised everyone had come, you’d invited them because you truly had thought them being here would lessen the pain, but to think that they all wanted to be here for you as well, even Rossi had come–and he hated taking vacation time. Though, the most surprising had to be the fact that Blake had actually succeeded in getting Straus to let you all come.

You stayed together, it was easy for some, though others kept getting sidetracked. You stopped a few times to look at a few shops and monuments, though you kept explaining to Penelope she’d have more than enough time later to go on her mini explorations.

You supposed it was normal though, that was how you were your first time in America–your first time in any new country or state, really. Most everyone had never been to Europe, even for you it felt like stepping into a storybook. You hadn’t been home in so long, it was like a lost memory.

Though afternoon, the day was getting dark already, and people were milling about, readying for Christmas–your heart lurched, and though you tried not thinking about him too much, you couldn’t help but wonder if your grandfather had been alone during his passing, what were his last words? His last thoughts? Rainclouds not only drew to the sky but your mind as well.

You felt more than guilty, that was the only way you could describe the horrid emotion twisting in your gut ever since you’d received the letter. You hadn’t seen your parents–your sister–face to face in a long time. It was part of the guilt of moving to America without giving them a heads up and for leaving when you knew they wanted you to stay.

Your older sister had stayed, why couldn’t you have? There really was no explanation other than you just couldn’t. It felt small, suffocating. You loved your hometown, but eventually, you knew there had to be something more out there, something more calling your name, and the longer you stayed, the more you buried that feeling, the less motivated to do anything you got.

So, you saved up during your uni days and took the first position in America you’d found, which is how you ended up at Interpol, climbing the ranks slowly but surely and eventually working with Clyde.

You reached the train station, the cool weather making everything around you a tint of blue. The benches that sat in front of the train tracks were taken up by Jack, Henry, and Will, who’d been carrying a ton of baby supplies. You paused, checked your watch again, nodded, and turned your face toward everyone again, “Alright people, here’s the plan. My family knows you're coming, one of the reasons they were okay with it is because we own a few properties and can house you all, hence your housemates, or if you prefer, hosts.” You glanced at JJ, “You, Will, and Henry will be staying with my sister and her husband. She has two kids so she’s used to the noise.”

You had thought about letting Hotch stay with your sister, but that would have just been too weird. No, instead you’d paired Hotch up with one of your cousins, who was married, but had no kids. Jack was older, no longer in diapers, and had a controlled temper, so it seemed perfect.

You relayed this information and moved on, “Penelope and Morgan, you’re staying with my aunt and uncle on my dad’s side, trust me, you’ll be thanking me–and Rossi, you’re with my aunt an uncle on my mom’s side Is that everyone then?” You looked around, nodding.

“Hang on,” Rossi held up a hand, “I don’t like the way you said that last part.”

“That’s everyone then?” You ignored him, “All alright, the train should be here–” You cut off your sentence as the train pulled into the station, “...right on time.”

 Waiting your turn to step onto the train as people made their way off, you felt around in your pocket for the letter one last time, sighing in relief when you it was still there. You grabbed your suitcase and began pulling it aboard the train when Spencer grabbed your arm and held you back. You glanced at everyone else boarding the train, making sure you had time before turning back, “Uhm,” he frowned, looking awkward, “where am I staying?”

“Hmm?” Your eyebrows furrowed and you looked at your watch again, “with me and my parents.” You said it so simply, as if it were an afterthought–as if it was so incredibly obvious that you didn’t think you had to mention it.

“Oh,” he didn’t know how to feel, he was a little embarrassed, but there was something else…sick? He didn’t know, but it made him bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling.

“Come on,” you latched your hand onto his wrist and yanked him onto the train, “before it leaves without us.”

You honestly wanted to go straight to your parent's house, but you knew you had to introduce your co-workers/friends to your family so when you left it wasn’t so weird, though the only one who complained was Rossi, you couldn’t blame him, but at the same time you found it funny. He swore up and down you had put him in this position on purpose and he didn’t find it funny–“Not one bit,” he’d said right before you left him in his room. “I’ll get you back for this,” he’d warned.

Once you’d left JJ, Will, and Henry at your sisters–she hadn’t been home, thank God, as you didn’t think you could face her just yet–you and Spencer hailed a cab and had all but drifted off to sleep during the ride to your childhood home. Your mom had been the firstborn, so she’d gotten the main house, though your grandparents never left. They had kind acted as your second parents growing up and you were incredibly close, especially you and your grandfather…and now he was gone. You bit the inner corner of your cheek, feeling like you wanted to cry but just couldn’t find the comfort to do so.

Spencer noticed, of course, that you were leaning on him, and had been the entire cab ride. When the it came to a stop in front of a large, three-story Victorian house, he hesitated before shaking you awake. He wouldn’t have done it if he knew what to do, but this wasn’t his house and this was the first time he was going to meet your parents, though it excited him, he couldn’t pinpoint the exact reason why.

You were like–his platonic soulmate, nothing had ever happened between you two and just because you were going to be sleeping in the same house, probably a few feet apart, didn’t mean anything was going to start now. Morgan slept at Penelope’s all the time and though Spencer always suspected they were more, nothing had ever happened, which meant it was possible for a guy and a girl to just be friends–and yet, here is was, palms sweating, mind running, mouth drying as he walked up the trail leading to the front door of your parent’s house.

A knock, and hushed whispers, and then the door opened, your mother standing in the doorway with a bright smile on her face. She called your name and wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into a hug. You wondered if your grandpa was at the funeral home still, if he was cold, which was a stupid thought, he couldn’t feel anything, he was gone, no longer here roaming the earth, telling his outdated jokes and taking you on secret journey’s, and you were no longer that little girl who laughed at his outdated jokes and believed in the magic of his secret journeys.

When you pulled away your mother, with her now thinning, grayed hair pulled into a tight ponytail and the wrinkles lining her frail face–said, “Oh, let me get a look at you.” 

She took a step back and that’s when your father came into view, “Dad,” you smiled, the feeling almost overwhelming.

He pulled you into another hug, and just when you didn’t know if you could handle seeing one more relative you hadn’t seen in ages, your grandmother shouted from somewhere on the first floor, “Is that her? Is she here?”

Your heart seized itself and you took a step back, unknowingly stepping into Spencer’s personal space. You turned to apologize, but your grandmother had already wobbled in on her two dainty legs, as quickly as she could have if in her prime. Her old crone eyes narrowed, “nice of you to grace us with your presence.” She sprinkled salt on the floor as she glowered.

“Mom,” your mother groaned.

“What?” She crossed her arms and turned her head as if she had things better to do than welcome the granddaughter–who’d left everything behind–back into her life.

“It’s fine, Mom,” you reassured as your father went to close the door behind you’d walked in, Spencer gled to your back.

Your grandmother stomped out of the room in old lady fashion. “How are you dear? Have you been getting my letters?”

You cringed, “Yes,” though you never sent one back, you did always text a message, thanking your mom for writing you, she’d only heart it, though, which left you wondering if maybe you should’ve picked up a pen and paper. “I keep them all secure in a drawer.”

She nodded, a placid smile falling to her lips, “Well, you must be tired and–” she glanced at you, then at Spencer, then at your father and held his gaze for a moment before returning her eyes to you, “who’s your…”

“Oh, this is Spencer,” you patted his chest as if that was explanation enough.

Your mother nodded, not really sure how to take it, she turned to Spencer, hoping he’d offer a little more information, “It’s nice to meet you.”

Spencer stared at her hand, contemplating and you were just about to say something about it when he reached out and shook it. Slack-jawed, you eyed him suspiciously, turning away in a huff. When you’d first met him, he’d refused to shake your hand, sure he had come a long way since then, but it still annoyed you for some reason.

“Come, let me show you your rooms.”

Your mother led you up the starcase than faded into a small stairwell, leading up to the second floor. The wood was old mahogany, though you weren’t paying much attention to it. At the end of the left hall was another staircase that led to the third floor, but even half awake you knew it was probably locked. It always had been. 

You recognized the wallpaper, a deep, forest green and you half wondered if the wallpaper in your bedroom had changed, if it had been converted into a guest bedroom. Your mother gave Spencer the guest room down the hall. You waved goonight to him before heading into your room. He paused his eyes taking in your childhood home.

It was so incredibly different from his, but it also felt…small. You were this giant, bubble of energy and a quiet town in Europe just dind’t seem to add up to your personality. He sighed and pulled open the door, you weren’t a few steps away like he had hoped, but you were close enough. He stopped himself–this was completely bizarre, even for him. This was more up–well, he didn’t know, but it wasn’t up his alley.

Tired, you’d turned in for the night, though your eyes caught on all the things you’d left behind, you told yourself you’d look at it in the morning. You were glad everyone was here supporting you, you were especially glad to have Spencer–were glad he came, but then of course he came, that was just the kind of person he was.

You turned off the lamp on the bedside table, burying your face in the sheets, finding yourself still unable to cry, but whispering, “You would have liked him a lot, nonno*.” Which was madness, firstly, why did it matter if you grandfather would have liked Spencer or not. Secondly, your grandfather was gone, and the whole reason you were here was because of that fact. Maybe you just couldn’t accept it yet and that’s why you were thinking all these weird thoughts, why you couldn't cry.

You sighed, shutting your eyes, hoping you wouldn’t dream; to face tomorrow, you would just need sleep. Sleep and a lot of quiet.

You cracked open one eye, light trickling in through the curtains though it wasn’t bright. You left your door ajar as you headed toward the bathroom. There was soft chatter on the first floor, and you were sure your grandmother and parents were awake. The faint aroma of coffee wafted through the air and you wondered if Spencer was up too.

You didn’t have to wait long to find out as he stepped out of the bathroom just as you went to open the door. His hair was wet and he was wearing a white collared shirt under a brown sweater vest. He smiled when he saw you, though your eyes were drawn to the water dripping down his forehead. He was holding a towel, you assumed to try and dry it, though it looked if he hadn’t had much success.

“Morning.” You murmured.

“Good morning,” he echoed, stepping out of the way. “You’re parents said I could,” he motioned behind him, pressing his lips together when you raised a brow. He nodded, “hurry? I am kind of nervous.”

You snorted and shook your head, “sure thing, piccolo*.”

You shut the bathroom door behind you, feeling an airy sensation float through your body as you began pulling your clothes off.

Half an hour later, you found Spencer in his room still trying to dry his hair. “You should just let it air dry.” You voiced, tucking a lock of your own wet hair behind your ear.

He looked up when you opened the door, sighing, and setting the hand towel to the side. His hair was nearly dry, though he was trying to get the wet bits in the back. 

You huffed, climbing on the bed and sitting behind him on your knees, “let me see it.” You began massaging the now-damp towel into his hair, trying to use the little dry parts it still had left. He chuckled, jerking his head slightly when the towel rubbed a sensitive spot. You smirked, “that tickle?”

He huffed another laugh, “stop,” he called your name in warning, “I’m serious.”

You laughed, running the towel teasingly up and down his neck. He jerked and eventually jumped up, pushing you backward on accident. He launched a tickle attack, fingers jabbing at your sides, your neck, under your arms, and when you thought he couldn’t get any worse, he sought your feet, your sockless feet.

“Okay!” You snorted, “Okay, you win!”

“What?” He asked, staring down at you with triumph.

“Oh, don’t be an ass.” 

He grinned playfully, but relented, “Alright, come on, your parents probably want to see you.”

You huffed a sigh and threw your head back, the pillows coming to its rescue as you let your hands come to rest on your stomach, “do we have to?” His grin eased into a gentle smile and you gave in, jumping up, “Yeah, fine.” 

You headed downstairs, passing picture frames from past relatives. There were so many ancient trinkets that your generations had left behind, Spencer said it was like walking through time, and it honestly was. Not just because the house was built in the middle 1800s, but because everything from the wallpaper to the furniture, and right down to the people still living in it–had that reminiscent aura about them.

“Nice of you to join us.” Your grandmother said as you walked in, “And who’s this, a boyfriend?”

Your mother sent hers a warning glare before turning back to you, “good morning, please sit,” she motioned toward the breakfast table.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Spencer said taking the seat beside you, “again.”

Your mother laughed and waved a hand, “There is no need for formalities, but I do want to thank you for coming.” She glanced at you momentarily, but you avoided her eyes. You knew you would eventually have to speak to everyone again, but you weren’t ready for that yet.

“So, how long have you been dating my daughter?” Your father asked. You would have choked on the tea had you drunk any prior. Your eyes widened instead and you turned to Spencer apologetically, but he didn’t seem at all fazed, “we’re just friends.”

His smile seemed content, but your grandmother scoffed. You turned to her, almost already fed up with the little attitude that’d been present since your arrival. You knew she had always preferred the company of your sister, and she detested you for leaving without a word–not to her, but to your grandfather.

You frowned, wanting to ask about it, but you couldn’t find words that would bring the least amount of sadness to the room. 

“Are you going out today?” Your father changed the subject, turning toward Spencer. He seemed to catch on to the fact that you were uncomfortable, so he directed all his questions at your beloved pretty boy.

Spencer answered them with ease–to which you knew you’d be in debt. An hour went by and Penelope was blowing up the team group chat, asking when you were meeting up. Eventually, you knew you’d have to take her around town and to be honest, you could use a little distraction from the looming presence of being around the rest of your family when they got in this afternoon.

“When will you be back?” Your mother asked

“Not sure,” you replied, more clipped than you meant for it to be.

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on her,” Spencer reassured, trying to ease the tension.

“Oh, I’m sure you will,” your grandmother poked her head out of nowhere.

You shot her a glare and said, “Is this your way of seeing me off?”

Shocked by your reply, she tutted and jerked her head away, with closed eyes and crossed arms. You rolled your eyes, whispering, “see you later,” in the softest voice you could manage.

“That was…”

You huffed, wrapping your arms around yourself, “tell me about it.”

“So…your grandmother…”

“She hates me because I left, deep down they all do.” You frowned, but no tears came, they seemed to evade you.

Spencer pressed his lips together, normally he had the perfect response for anything you said, but you never spoke about your family. You were always sure to draw a boundary, you were very much like Emily in that sense, or at least he thought so.

You took a cab to the pier, agreeing to meet at the beach seemed simple. There were a few people, mostly locals though, your hometown wasn’t a place tourists normally visited. The main reason this town was able to survive was because a lot of the residents were wealthy, and that wealth stayed in the family and–well, the families stayed here.

“Woah,” Penelope yelped at the fourth store you stopped in, “we have to look around,” she said, eye-widening. Jack and Henry were milling about together, looking at little trinkets. You recognized the shop, it was an antique toy store–your grandfather had bought all your gifts over the years from this one in particular, some were secondhand, but they were sentimental to you and you had taken a few with you when you’d moved to America. 

“Babygirl, calm down.” Morgan laughed, following her down an aisle.

“How’s everyone settling in?” You asked, turning to Rossi when he huffed and muttered something under his breath. “What was that?” You leaned in, grinning.

Spencer pulled you back just as Rossi glared and called you a sadist. “We’re doing fine, your sister is nice.” JJ smiled, “she was asking about you,” she paused, waiting to see if it was an alright topic of conversation. When she realized you were waiting patiently for her to continue, she did, “she said she was sorry for not being home when you dropped us off. She wanted to catch up.”

You took a breath, your cheeks seemingly hot in the cold weather. “I know it’s not my place,” Will started, catching your eyes, “...but I…I think you should talk to her…”

You frowned at him, contemplating, then you nodded, sigh slipping past your lips, “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“Oh!” Penelope shouted, “Gelato, my phone says there’s a gelato place right around the corner!” 

You noticed Morgan walking up behind her when a laugh–though it sounded more like a croak–rang through your ears. “Your phone would be correct,” an old woman rounded the counter, short as could be. Her eyes bounced from face to face, settling on yours, “I told your old wench of a grandmother you’d come back. Were it for anything it’d be for him.” She sighed, “Come here, let me have a spin, my God how long has it been?”

You wanted to say eight years, but you neglected that subject and instead focussed your memory on figuring out who this woman was. 

“Hmm,” she hummed after a moment, taking a step back, her arms so incredibly bony they looked as if they might snap with the slightest pressure. Her pallor was somewhat tanned, and there were a few black spots up and down her exposed skin.

“You’re nonna’s old classmate.” It clicked, she was always stopping by the house in your earlier days, and she’d sometimes sit on the wraparound porch, sipping wine with your grandmother.

“Did you forget me already capretta*?” She chuckled as if she’d made a joke.

The rest of your group had deemed the conversation not there’s to listen in on, so they’d taken to wandering around the shop, the only one who stayed–partially because he wanted to and partially because you’d grabbed his wrist when he had tried walking away–was Spencer.

“I’m not a little girl anymore,” you murmured, “you shouldn’t call me that.”

“Oh, you’ll always be capretta* to me, you and all the others.” She smiled, her beady eyes watching you for a moment, as if expecting you to do something brash. Eventually, she said, “his funeral is tomorrow, yes?”

“Yeah,” saying it brought out a wave of pain. Your mouth felt heavy and your stomach dropped to your feet.

She nodded, “have you decided what you’re going to say?”

You shook your head, “I won’t be speaking.”

She paused, disappointment flashing across her face, “well, I’m sorry to hear that.” You pressed your lips together and began turning away, ready to get out of this uncomfortable situation, but she wasn’t finished, “you know, I’m sure he’s happy you’re here.”

Spencer watched you close your eyes, take a deep, shuddering breath, and open them carefully. He watched them gloss over and without thinking about it, snaked a hand behind your back, as if holding you to this earth would help you in some way, unbeknownst to him, it did. His touch grounded you, and you thought, another debt to be owed.

“You’re amante*,” she said right before you walked back outside.

“He’s not my–” you waved your hands but your your words faltered as she shook a cloth at you, a knowing smile adorning her face.

“Maybe not yet, capretta*.”

You sighed, yanking Spencer outside. “What did she say?” He asked as if he couldn’t use damned context clues.

“Nothing,” you responded, but Rossi raised an eyebrow, holding up his hands when you shot him a look, your eyes flashing in warning. 

The other’s finally joined you outside and you spent a few more hours acting as a tour guide. When you deemed it time to go home, you told everyone to be ready in formal attire around 8, the rest of your family would be coming in, staying at the main house as it was the last place that still had room, and a small party would ensue. Everyone only came together for weddings and funerals so they tended to make the most of it.

You weren’t really looking forward to seeing the rest of your cousins, hell you could barely face your immediate family, extended seemed a little too much too soon.

You thought about hiding up in your room, you hadn't had much time to take it in yet and you thought it might help.

Relatives started arriving around 7:30. Spencer had wandered down to your room and knocked, though you could hear the hesitation in it. “Come in,” you said, sitting up.

He walked through, shutting the door softly behind him. “So this is where I find all your secrets.” He chirped, an easy smile settling on his face as joined you on the bed, leaning back. “It’s pink,” he noted.

“Hey,” you said, “the wallpaper came with the room.”

He huffed a laugh, his eyes catching on a few blankets stacked neatly on a shelf linear your bed, “are those your baby blankets?”

“No,” you laid back down, the lamp at your side dimming slightly. “I think I stole those from my sister.”

He smiled, “I wonder what it’s like to have a sibling.”

You smiled, recalling all the idiotic fights you’d get into, how your parents would send you two to your room until you, “learned to love each other”. “She’s older by a few years,” your voice carried through the silent room, though it was lively on the first floor. You suddenly remembered you had a third, but you couldn’t recall a single memory of you being allowed there as is had always been locked.

“Do you want to talk about her?” He asked after a while.

You debated, on one hand, it might be good practice for when you spoke to her, on the other hand, what would you even say? You had no idea how she’d been these past eight years, what her life was like. What could you say and so you said, “ask me about her.”

He hummed for a moment, falling on, “why’d you steal the blankets?”

Your lips pressed together and you tried piecing together an accurate depiction of the event. “Well, she’d got them on a trip with our grandmother. My grandfather and I had been on an adventure, I think we were in the forest, I can’t remember,” you sat up and pushed yourself off the bed, walking over to the dresser and bending down to the shelf that held the blankets.

Spencer sat up, letting his eyes follow you, he felt warm, not anxious. Though his mind was working slowly, he found he didn’t mind. You seemed to calm everything down for him, it was a sense of comfort he hadn’t known he’d needed until you came into his life, and his headaches from before had slowly ceased the closer the two of you got.

“This one,” you held up, “was originally hers.” You brought it to him as he pushed himself to the edge of the bed, his feet sprawled around you. You didn’t think twice before stepping in between him, but you had never done that before and it caught him off guard. You had never been in such proximity when you were both wide awake, and you certainly had never faced each other like this.

Nevertheless, he didn’t mind–in fact, he was finding it increasingly obvious that he preferred you to be as close to him as possible. He ran a hand over the smooth ruffles of the white blanket. It was pleaded with light pink embroidery. “You should give it to your daughter.” He heard himself say, though his throat went dry right after. 

“You think so?” You found yourself wanting to be closer to him–as if I’m not close enough, you scolded yourself.

“Yeah,” he looked up at you, and gosh–it looked like he wanted you, and gosh–you felt your heartbeat speed up.

Your body moved on its own, stepping forward, loving the way his legs close together to entrap you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, dropping the blanket down beside him. You lifted your knees onto either side of his waist and sat in his lap, his arms snaking around your hips. “Hi,” you murmured, a nervous–almost hesitant–expression falling over your features.

His eyes flitted between your lips and your eyes, but he managed to force out a, “hi.”

You bit your lip and it drew his gaze instantly, you could feel his heart palpitate in his chest, almost as fast as yours. His eye fluttered close and his head fell back when you ran your hands through his hair. You didn’t know what you were doing, you told yourself multiple times, unsure of why this was happening–now of all times, oh your sweet nonno! Forgive me, you pleaded.

You angled your head forward, ready to do the one thing you’d knew your subconscious had been wanting for God knew how long, but then a knock sounded on the door and Spencer’s eyes opened once again.

“Who–” you cleared your throat, “who is it?”

“Uhm,” a nervous chuckle came from the other side of the door, “it..it’s me.” Your sister. You cursed, glanced at Spencer, then with an apologetic look, unraveled yourself from his embrace.

You walked toward the door, trying to fix your nettled clothing in the process. You took a breath and paused, then opened the door. Your sister stood there, tall, lean, and elegant, as you remembered her to be. “Hi,” she smiled, tilting her head.

You smiled back, trying your best to not give away what had just been going on–what the actual hell was just going on? You wanted to contemplate it more, wanted to ask yourself what the hell you thought you were doing–but refrained from doing so in the moment.

“Can…can I come in?”

You tensed, your eyes darting behind you and Spencer stood, throwing you an understanding glance. Your sister took a step back as he left the room, eyes following him as he disappeared somewhere down the hall. You swallowed and shifted out of the doorway, “come in.”

She raised an eyebrow but kept quiet upon you lifting a hand. 

“How have you been?” She asked once you shut the door. 

You thought about your answer, settling for, “good,” because you had been good, you had been very good, up until you got that letter.

“That’s good,” she responded, looking around the room, smiling, “you know, mom kept it just the way you had it when you left.”

You nodded, yes, you had noticed that, but you weren’t sure how you felt about it just yet.

“What’s this?” She walked toward your bed, where Spencer had been not a minute ago. She picked up the dainty blanket and sat down, steering clear of the part that had been undoubltey rumpled by Spencer. “Oh,” she said as if just recalling, “it’s the blanket I gave you.”

Your eyebrows scrunched together, you distinctly remember you stealing it from your room and hiding it when she had come asking if you’d seen it.

She laughed, apparently recalling the same thing, “I knew you had it back then,” which came as a surprise to you. She bit back a smile as she began folding it again, “nonna told me to let you keep it.”

Your eyes widened slightly, “did she?”

“Yep,” your sister popped the ‘p’.

“Hmm,” you hummed.

“What?” She asked, setting the blanket aside.

“She’s become batty.”

Your sister’s eyebrows rose, “how do you mean?”

“She’s been nothing but brutal to me,” you frowned, crossing your arms.

Your sister’s eye crinkled like she was about to laugh, “wow,” she said instead, “you’ve been gone so long you must have forgotten.”

“Forgotten what?” You scoffed.

“That’s how she’s always been,” your sister shook her head, mumbling your name and something else incoherent before turning to look back up at you, “I hope you visit again, that this isn’t some one off thing.”

You pulled away, your walls instantly going back up and your sister sighed, clearly noting the mask of an expression. “You always did that when you were a kid, you know.”

“Did what?” You furrowed your brows.

“Fold into yourself,” she waved her hands, “I don’t know how else to explain it.” She huffed, “you know, we really miss you, everyone. My kids,” she started, tears thrreatening to break loose, “you nieces and nephews–they don’t even know you.”

You looked down and for a second you weren’t sure what she was talking about, but then you remembered that yes–you were a zia*, your sister had children, three of them, and you hadn’t met them once.

Guilt wrapped itself around you like a veil, “I’m sorry,” you heard yourself saying, your face contorting as if you wanted to cry, wanted to express how remorseful you felt, but didn’t know how to.

“You’re just like her,” she threw her head back as a few tears ran down her cheek, “I think that’s why you were closer to Nonno*. You and Nonna* are too alike, you’re both so damn stubborn.” She huffed a laugh and for a moment, a sliver of a smile tugged at the corner of your lips.

“I think love my best friend,” you found yourself admitting, maybe it was your way of trying to reach out, to tell your sister you were still you.

“That guy that was just here?” She grinned at you, “yeah, the family has been talking about it, Nonna* said to expect a wedding within the next year.”

Your face fell, embarrassment taking over, “what? Why? That old bat!” You scoffed, standing, “I can’t believe her, I’ve only been here–what? Two days? If that? That crazy old woman,” you marched toward the door, “Well?” You called to your sister, “are you going to back me up or what?”

She stared at you for a moment and then slowly, but surely, an calm smile crept onto her face, but her eyes were ones of storybook villains,“yeah, sure.”

The day started gloomy, though when you met Spencer in the hall, it became just a little less than that. You weren’t feeling like yourself, though you weren’t actually sure what self you were referring to. 

JJ had messaged the group chat that she’d be late because Henry had an accident right before they set off to leave. You thought about messaging your sister, but it felt weird, you weren’t used to initiating conversation with your family, so you didn’t, although you did plan to speak before the funeral.

You wore simple black attire, as did everyone else and you caught yourself holding onto Spencer’s hand tighter than usual, almost as if he’d leave you too, and you couldn’t have that. Your heart studded in your chest once you saw the coffin, it was closed, of course. It had been open for the hearing, but that had occured before you’d landed.

You couldn’t move forward. You told the others to go on and after making sure you were okay, they did, “but you’re not allowed to go,” you’d whispered, almost to yourself.

Spencer had squeezed your hand, whispering back, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Your family gathered around the casket and the sacerdote* stepped forward, reading off a few of the retellings your grandmother had no doubt written down with the help of your parents. You noted a few other, non-related spectators, probably friends.

A few of his favorite songs were played and then your mother said a few words, followed by your grandmother, and finally your sister. “Are you okay?” Spencer pulled you closer by your arm.

You pressed your lips together, watching the coffin being lowered into the grave. “I don’t know…” and when you swallowed, you found your throat dry and for the first time since the letter, you not only found yourself wanting to cry, you found it was almost within reach.

The ceremony ended and relatives began dropping dirt into the grave, you thought to say one last prayer before leaving, but you didn’t want anyone to see you. You turned to Spencer and let go of his hand, “I just…” you turned away, pressing your lips together as you eyed the fresh grave.

He smiled sadly, but he nodded; he always seemed to be able to understand you no matter how silent or how loud you were. Maybe that’s why you loved him, you couldn’t be sure. There were so many things you loved about him–gosh you loved him. The revelation was like a wish from a birthday candle being answered.

You stepped away and Spencer watched as you pushed through the crowd. Hotch and the others surrounded him, questioning stares ever-present. “We should give her some time,” he said after seeing you hesitate, then sit near the makeshift headstone.

“What’s she doing?” Penelope frowned, watching you shift in your spot on the wet grass.

“Saying goodbye,” Spencer was the only one to respond–he was also the last one to retreat.

You didn’t know how to begin, you hadn’t spoken to him in eight years. You were scared that he was angry at you, but then again, you knew that couldn’t be the case, yes you knew he was gone, but what if his spirit was still here? What if he couldn’t move on because he had unfinished business and it was your fault?

You stopped yourself, since when did you believe in superstition? That was your parents…and Rossi; not you.

You sighed, running your hand through the grass, deciding to start as if he were still there, trying not to sound too guilty.

Nonno, you began, I–I’m sorry, you shook your head, I know, I know I should have visited. I know– a single tear fell down your cheek and you paused to wipe it away, shocked by your own emotions. “Forgive me,” you whispered.

“You sound like a crazy person,” you jerked your head to the side, eyes landing on your grandmother.

You huffed, eyes narrowing as you sniffled and wiped another tear that had fallen. “You’re one to talk.”

Your grandmother shifted, as if uncomfortable, and then she moved forward, more brittle than you had noticed the first time. “I’m not going to sit down,” she said after a moment, “don’t let my looks full you, I’m not how I once was.” She grunted as she stood beside you.

“Yeah, well, your looks aren’t fooling anyone, so.”

“Ouch,” she laughed, but it sounded like a wenches cackle. “Oh nipotina*,” she clicked her tongue and shook her head, a complacent smile making its way onto her wrinkled face.

You sat in silence, comfortable or not, you were glad she had stopped talking, you didn’t know what to say to her. In your opinion, you had never really gotten along with your grandmother, this wasn’t reconnecting with your parents or sisters or even your zia* and zio*, this was…new territory altogether.

You frowned, “listen, child,” and you did, you perked up, you could listen to her talk, that would be easy, you just hoped she didn't expect a response. “Your grandfather loved you, he never stopped talking about you.” You smiled, but then it faltered. You had abandoned him, hadn’t even deigned to visit because of how guilty you’d felt…

“He knew,” you whispered, heart racing. 

You heard your grandmother sigh. “I thought as much,” she frowned, staring at her husband's grave as if she could bring him back by will alone. 

“You did?” You hadn’t left without saying goodbye, not to him at least, that was one thing everyone had gotten wrong, your grandmother knowing had never occurred to you because you were sure your grandfather kept it a secret. Why else would the entire family have blown up when they’d realized you had left? When they’d realized it was too late to stop or convince you otherwise–because by the time everyone else had found out, you were halfway across the North Atlantic already.

“I always thought it was strange how he never said anything about it.” A grim smile tugged her at her red-painted lips.

“Nonna*, did I make the right decision?” You asked, surprising even yourself.

She sighed and you thought she might say ‘I can’t tell you if it was right or wrong’ or something a normal grandmother would say, but your grandmother wasn’t normal, she was an old bat, probably the same one you’d turn into at her age and she said, “You’re damned right you were wrong.”

Your mouth dropped, taken aback, and then you burst into laughter, throwing your head back as you tried wiping your tears, “oh you’re such an old bat,” you sighed.

“I knew you always called me that behind my back,” she harumphed, jerking her head away and crossing her arms like a child.

“Oh come now, Nonna*,” you stood and reached out the touch her shoulder.

She huffed and dropped her arms, eyes darting around your face in what seemed to be concern. “You were wrong for not telling the rest of us, you had your parents worried sick, and your sister too.” Her frown deepened, “even me.”

You nodded, “I know, but nonna*,” you sighed, wanting to explain yourself, but she held up a hand. You raised a brow, almost saying huh, so that’s where I get it from, out loud.

“Your grandfather always said you were meant for something greater, that your heart wouldn’t allow you to stay in this town the way ours allowed the rest of us.

“No, no nipotina*, you were not wrong for leaving. This town, this family? Yes, you come from here, but there,” she nodded her head toward your co-workers, (or friends, you were honestly still deciding), “with them, that is where you belong now.”

You smiled, finding acceptance in her answer.

“And your friend,” she rolled her eyes when she said it, “well, I expect the wedding to be here.”

You huffed a laugh before turning, catching Specner’s eye, and when he waved your heart swelled. “We’ll see,” you started walking away.

Your grandmother trailed after you, throwing her hands up and shouting, “incovalato*! You insolent child!”

a/n: ahhh i can't wait to write my next fic because i already know waht it is. i don't want to give spoilers, but just know you're going to see dad!spencer !!

@darkmatilda @theylovemelody

[petew21-blog]

Avengers surrender!

Steve Rogers has been part of the Avengers for many years now. He still fell like he was out of place after being frozen for decades. But having great friends, a heroes job that saved many people's lives and a chance to live his life gave him a sense of purpose to live for.

Once on a mission in Europe, in Germany, someone had to enter a former Nazi bases. Tony Stark gave each Avenger one base to get into and gather as much data as possible. This task couldn't be done by anyone else, because of the number of traps left in the bases.

Steve knew where to look for, Natasha and Clint knew how to deactive them and Tony, Bruce and Thor basically let the traps explode.

Steve entered his first base. The traps were sophisticated, but he manager to get into the control room to access the data. As he turned on the machine a figure appeared.

It was some kind of a hologram of Red Skull, Steve thought.

Red Skull:"Finally, thank you for setting my soul free from Vormir"

Steve:"How...?"

Red Skull:"Oh Mr. Roger. You didn't think that the stone destroyed me, did you? It banished me and gave me a task to fulfill. A task that I am now relieved from thanks to my artifact."

Steve look at the panel he touched before and noticed a bright red stone. Before he could say anything, Red Skull was getting closer

Red Skull:"This time. I win. Everything will be different"

He said as he flew through the air and sunk deep into Steve.

Steve got up and tried to fight it. But there was no use. Something inside of him was very strong and demanded control. Steve fought, but he wasn't able to fight back anymore.

Suddenly, his vision changed. He now couldn't move. He still felt everything his body had, but he couldn't move a muscle.

Steve:"What is happening?"

Steve's body opened his mouth:"Mr. Rogers, this time. You will be at the right side of history"

Steve:"Schmidt!!! Leave my body alone. Let go of me"

Red Skull:"Ehhh, you're so annoying. The more you fight, the more I will destroy your life"

In the comms:"Captain, you need to hurry. There is a situation in New York. We need you"

Red Skull:"On it"

Red Skull stood above all the Avengers who now celebrated their victory over New York against an army sent by Loki.

Natasha:"Why are you so quiet today. You don't wanna celebrate?"

Red Skull turned to face her and a creepy smile crept onto his face:"People died Natasha. Nothing to celebrate"

He left the room and entered the elevator. A group of men, handling the sceptor from Loki went with him. Red Skull enjoyed the stares his new body received. He was used to get respect, but mostly out of fear, not out of respect.

This group of men on the other hand felt off to him. There was something, tension yes, but something more. He realised what it was and went for it. Even if it wouldn't be a successfull attempt, they wouldn't pay too much attention to his words. He is in fact THE CAPTAIN AMERICA now.

He got closer to one of the men and whispered in his ear:"Hail, Hydra"

The man was shocked. But he understood. They took the new captain America to their secret base, where they explained him all their plans. Red Skull on the other hand revealed his identity to them.

Red Skull was used to be a leader, but now, he had to prove that he really was who he claimed to be

And let's say, that after sabottaging many missions and bringing down the Avengers, he eventually received a very suitable nickname along with a new suit

The new Captain Hydra enjoyed his new life. He was a leader and he was in action as well. What more could he want?

Maybe to silence the voice of Steve Rogers inside of his head whenever he disagreed with something

The worst, but also best times were whenever Red Skull used his body to intimadate others, or whenever he was masturbating or enjoying fucking someone else just to intimidate them

Yeah, Steve hated that. He also hated the Hydra tatoo, the new clothes he bought and the people he spent time with.

Steve used to be a decent man, almsot never swearing, gentleman.

Red Skull turned him into a vulgar, evil, swearing, everything-moves-fucking prick. But there was nothing Steve could do. All he could do, was watch. Watch and feel. Yeah... Steve can feel still what his body is going through. And Steve found out that screaming at Schmidt during sex made it so much better. Maybe they will find a way how to get along. Oh, here comes... What the hell. Is that Bucky?! And why is he naked?

A story request for @thunder-emperor

[mrchiipchrome]

The Museum

W.C. - 5.2 k

this is so the 'pookie looks absolutely fire' tiktok couple coded

thank you to the anon that requested this, much love to you:)

-------------

The skittles made a crunching sound as your molars bit down on them, it was an every day snack for you, tasting the rainbow more often than not. It was a relatively new habit, but when your ex had broken up with you, you promised yourself to become a better person.

It obviously had to be you who had something wrong with them, otherwise she wouldn’t have fallen in love with someone else and out of love with you. Quitting smoking was the first thing on your agenda, hence the skittles.

The next thing was to get away from the small southern town in Texas, move so far away that you left the country entirely. The only thing you’d taken with you on the plane was a carryon with 2 changes of clothes, your cowboy hat and a dream of bettering your life.

The third thing you bettered was your health, going out for a run every morning through the streets of London, going to the gym after work, doing push-ups before bed. It worked wonders, the tips you got from the ladies at the bar where you worked were simply incredible.

The fourth thing you wanted to improve was your cultural knowledge, the exact reason why you were standing in the middle of a museum, old renaissance paintings in every corner of the large room. It was something you appreciated, none of that modern bullshit where people just taped a banana to a canvas and called it art, it was back from when people actually painted.

Your hand slipped down your body into your jacket pocket, fetching another piece of candy, although a voice speaking up from your right startled you nearly enough for you to drop it back into the bag.

“You’re not supposed to eat in museums, you know?” The woman had a foreign dialect, just like you. You guessed it was from somewhere in the middle of Europe, maybe Germany or any of the neighboring countries.

“It’s not a problem if you don’t tell on me, no one has to know.” She seems just as startled by your accent as you were by her speaking to you, her cheeks dusted with a light pink at the wink you sent her.

“What are you going to do if I tell them? Take me back to your ranch on your horse?” The mystery woman teases, obviously making fun of the accent and the cowboy hat sitting perched on your head. In response you laugh under your breath, shaking your head in amusement.

“I’m afraid that I left the ranch back in Texas, Miss. All I have here is a small one bedroom apartment.” She looks up at you through the side of her eye, her half smile distracting you more than you’d like to admit. Her brows knit together when she notices a security guard eying the two of you curiously and her elbow digs into your ribs when you once again reach for the skittles in your pocket.

“Nice hat, my friend would be jealous.” You nod in agreement, plucking the stetson off your head and turning it around in your hand. In a brief moment of stupidity, you place the cowboy hat on the pretty stranger’s head, it falling down the front of her face to cover her eyes. It’s frankly adorable, the way she brings her hand up to push it back to the crown of her head.

The reassuring smile on her face tells you that she approves of your action, a relief to your entire being. She takes her phone out of her back pocket, turning it on and snapping a picture of you both, the cowboy hat still perched on top of her head.

In response, you snap a picture of her alone, the woman posing like a cowboy would for you. She was going to be the wallpaper of your phone for a while, even though you didn’t even know her name.

“So, do you have a name or am I just going to have to call you mine?” The cheesy pickup line just slips out, not at all consciously, it was like instinct took over, a pretty girl was to be flirted with.

“I wouldn’t mind being called yours, but for now you can call me Lia.” The woman doesn’t seem uncomfortable by your advances, in fact she embraces them, teasing smile telling you that she found it amusing how worried you got over a simple pickup line.

“Lia, a beautiful name for an even more gorgeous girl.” She gains her pink tint back, the compliment likely the cause of her blush. It wasn’t like she never got complimented, it was just the attractive zing your accent put over the words that made them feel more sincere.

“And how about you? A name attached to that pretty face?” Now it was your turn to blush at the other woman’s words, her lips splitting into a full toothed smile.

“Y/n. Y/n Y/l/n.” You imitate Bond to introduce yourself, sticking your hand out for her to take, a firm handshake and the tip of an imaginary hat letting her know who exactly it is you are. 

“Good to know my future last name.” She winks at you and the blush that’s already covering your face deepens significantly. The insinuation that you were to marry the girl beside you too much for your poor little heart to take. 

She starts to walk away from you and towards another section of the room, looking back over her shoulder when she realizes that you weren’t right beside her, walking. Waving her hand in a “come here” motion, you quickly catch up with the older woman. 

“So, why skittles? Is there not any other sweet you’d rather have?” She asks as you match her slow rhythm of steps, your hands shoved in the pockets of your coat with your arms forming loops. Lia threads one of her arms through yours, leaning her head on your shoulder, standing still all of a sudden to look at a painting. It didn’t feel like you’d just met, like you’d just introduced yourselves to one another, it felt like you’d known each other for decades, easily slipping into being comfortable with each other.

You gaze at her as she looks at the painting, making sure to map out all her gorgeous features and commit them to memory. She was like a breath of fresh air in a world of polluted oxygen.

“First of all it’s called candy, not sweets, candy. Secondly, they’re amazing for when you want to stop smoking.” Her cheek smushes against your shoulder as she turns her head to look up at you, her eyebrows scrunched together adorably.

“You were a smoker?” You feel the strong urge to place a peck atop her lips, soft and warm against your own. But in the end you resist, you’d only just met the woman for god’s sake, you don’t want to make her uncomfortable. Her eyes hold so many emotions that you just can’t read.

“Yeah, only for about a year. My ex stressed me out so much that I felt it was the easiest way to deal with it. But when she broke up with me, I decided to get my life back together, moved here, got a job at a bar and that’s it. That’s why I’m here.” Lia listens intensively at the story you’re telling her, the way she looks at you suggests that she’s hanging off your every last syllable.

“So no more smoking at all for you?” You puff your chest up, proudly displaying the grin on your face and your now discolored tongue. Lia looks on in amusement at your actions, a grin that could light up an opera house on her face. 

“Nope, I’m never picking up a cigarette again.” The amusement turns into a sort of profound proud feeling, a feeling that she definitely shouldn’t be feeling for what is practically a stranger. A stranger that in the matter of a mere hour had worked their way into her heart and made themselves home.

“Good, I’m really happy for you.” The softened look on Lia’s face makes you blush, it was the way most people looked at their loved ones. You couldn’t help but imagine what it would feel like to be one of her loved ones, how it would feel to see her first thing in the morning, to gaze into her tentative eyes and try to read her like a book just because you know exactly how it is she acts, how she feels at that exact moment, what she thinks.

At your faraway look Lia nudges you in the ribs, giggling at the embarrassed expression that occupies your face. Her giggle could only be described as a ray of sunlight, lighting the glum room up in seconds, giving it a golden glow.

The older woman doesn’t miss the fondness in your gaze as you watch her laugh, your own lips splitting into a smile and soon after a loud belly laugh bubbles up in your chest, welling out of your mouth like water out a dam. 

Only moments later the both of you are doubled over in laughter, tears slipping down your cheeks and arms crossed over your stomachs. Some scattered guests give you two dirty looks, as if you were peasants in a house full of royals, but they are counter effective because it only makes you and Lia laugh harder.

The security guard from earlier approaches you both as you drop down to the floor with a loud thump, Lia bursting out into an entire new fit of laughter as you try to catch your breath.

“Y/n, I’ve already let you get away with a lot today but this is your last strike. Up you get, I’ll escort you and your lady companion to the exit.” He speaks through his thick mustache, his round beer gut bobbing up and down with every word like he needed every fat covered muscle of his stomach to get the words out.

Small giggles escape you both as Lia and you are led out of the building by a firm grip around both of your arms. You both watch in amusement as the fat man gets winded walking back up the stairs he just led you down, bending over for a brief second at the top before disappearing back behind the door.

“So, I take it you know the security guard then?” She sounds a little out of breath as she speaks to you, flyaways sticking out of her bun, your hand itches to reach up and smooth them out, undo her bun and run your fingers through her hair. But you don’t. 

“Yeah, he’s my regular. Comes in every day and buys a pint after work, a good friend of mine he is. He lets me get away with eatin’ in there every time I come.” You stand right in front of the brunette, hands again in your pockets as you smile at her tentatively. Her hand comes up to rub at your arm, and you feel as though you were going to pass out at any moment, the electric feeling of her ring covered fingers touching your arm overwhelming in a good way.

“Ah, a museum nepo baby then.” You can tell that she’s joking by the way her eyebrows raise all the way up to her hairline, and you imitate her by doing the same thing. Another fit of giggles ensues, Lia looking directly into your eyes, holding eye contact for a prolonged amount of time.

It makes you nervous, her somewhat challenging gaze locking on your face for a moment longer than necessary. When she grasps your hands in hers you finally look back at her, meeting her tender gaze with your own.

“I really enjoyed today, I was hoping we could do it again sometime.” The older woman looks at you sheepishly, nearly nervously. You’re mesmerized by her gorgeous simplicity, simple smile grazing her lips as you nod, a recognisable warmth behind the hug she gives you, the quick kiss she places on your cheek haphazardly before walking away, not looking back to see your rose tinted cheeks.

It’s only when Lia has disappeared far behind the horizon that you realize that you have no way to contact her AND that she essentially got away with your favorite cowboy hat. You aren’t as distraught about your hat as you are about not getting her number, it was a dumbass move from you.

You drag your feet all the way back to your apartment, not knowing that only moments after you left the museum, the girl of your dreams ran back all the way to get your number. And like you, she dragged her feet all the way back to her apartment, sulking and questioning her own intelligence.

Arriving at the bar that evening was strange, you felt almost empty without the girl you’d met earlier that day, no light brown cowboy hat perched atop your head nor a beaming smile. It was weird to everyone around you, you always had that damned hat on, but now it was a completely different one, black with a few white accents.

“What happened to you? It looks like someone ran over your dog.” Your co-worker and best friend Marla asks, placing her hand on your shoulder softly as if you were to break if she did it any harder. Shaking your head, your other friend and co-bartender Jason comes up to rub your back softly, the comfort from both of your best friends loosening you up significantly and soon after you spill everything that had happened up to that point.

They were both smirking at you when you finished up the story, knowing that despite only just meeting the woman in the museum you were already in love. 

“So do you have a picture of this goddess who’s making you drop to your knees?” Marla asks you, looking knowingly at your other best friend, who in return wiggles his eyebrows at her. You knew something would happen between them soon, and you’d rather be in hell than to watch it.

“Yeah, just give me a quick sec.” Pulling out your phone, you quickly unlock it and enter the photo app, not needing to scroll as the most recent photo was of her, Lia.

“Girl, are you fucking with me?” You look at the dark skinned girl in confusion, her eyes widening as she realizes that you had no fucking clue who it was you had met. She looks to her ‘boyfriend’ quickly in shock, who looks back at her equally appalled.

“Are you telling me you don’t recognise her?” The moment you shake your head is when the green eyed boy facepalms, not believing your stupidity. “Not at all? You haven’t seen her before.” When you once again shake your head the man sighs in disappointment, all faith in your intelligence practically gone.

“Girl. That is Lia Wälti, you know one of the best midfielders in the country? Arsenal Women’s player.” Now it’s your turn to look shocked, not at all knowing that she was a footballer. All the times you’d gone over to Marla’s house to watch footy, she’d probably been injured.

“Are you fucking kidding me? I didn’t even recognise her.” You lean against the door, sliding your body down until you’re sitting flush on the floor, head in your hands. Jason places his hand on your shoulder, smiling softly at you as he tries to reassure your overwhelmed mind.

“Hey, man, it was probably a good thing that you didn’t recognise her. She knows that you’re not some crazed fan trying to kill her, eh?” Marla’s hand plucks your cowboy hat from your head and runs her fingers through your hair, your shared shift started in mere minutes and yet they were there, comforting you.

“I’m okay, just a bit shell shocked.” They both laugh, pulling you up by your hands and bringing you into a group hug, patting your back before Marla gives you your hat back, smacking both you and Jason’s asses before disappearing out to her office.

“You know, we have an extra ticket to the Arsenal game on Sunday, so I mean if you want to see her again then you’re welcome to join.” You smile at the man’s kindness, telling him that you’ll definitely take him up on his offer. You didn’t have a shift at the bar either way that day so spending it looking for your … well you didn’t really know what it was she is to you. All you know is that you wanted to see her again.

Two days later you find yourself sitting as close to the pitch as you possibly can, waiting for the North London derby to start. 

Lia is in the starting lineup, looking determined as she waits for the whistle signaling the start of the game to sound. The shrill noise cuts through the air and the game starts.

It’s physical right from the start, loads of pushing and shoving coming from both sides, red and white. There are a few times where you nearly jump to your feet as Lia gets pushed but the fact that your friends sat there right beside you made you choose not to.

At half time the score is the same as the beginning, nil-nil. Despite not knowing much about football you join in on analyzing the first half of the game, mentioning all the times Lia went down. Marla makes some ‘innocent’ comments about how you’d much rather have her ‘go down’ somewhere else. The blush that overtakes your face is enough for you to blend in with your jersey, the red of the Arsenal shirt the same shade as your face.

When the second half starts, you’re basically on your feet all the way through, cheering loudly when Alessia scores, meaning that the gunners were up one-nil.

It’s particularly hilarious when Lia finally notices you, a pause in the game meaning that she had the time to look around at the fully packed Emirates Stadium. When those eyes you love to gaze into meet yours for the first time since Friday, her face split open in a smile, a smile reaching all the way up to her eyes.

It looks like she has to physically restrain herself so that she doesn’t run over to you, her body shaking slightly as she calmly inches her way towards you, the cheers of the fans around you becoming louder as the player comes closer. Lia tunes them all out though as she looks at you, the only thing cutting through her trance being the whistle signaling the freekick being awarded. 

Lia looks back towards you as she walks in the direction of the group of players and you wink at her, even though she’s far away it seems like she saw it, the deep tint of red dusting her face definitely more than exertion from the game. 

When the three loud whistles sound throughout the arena, it explodes in cheers as Arsenal manage to keep their one-nil lead and in doing so make London red again. But you don’t even acknowledge the win when there’s a speeding Lia Wälti heading straight in your direction.

She only starts to slow down as she reaches the barrier which separates the fans from the pitch and players, with you standing up behind it to watch her come closer and closer with every quick step she takes.

Lia throws her arms around your torso when she comes close enough, the way that she had been longing for your touch had been driving her crazy in the days since you first met. She also knew that it wasn’t smart to do it all out in the open, fans and professionals alike were probably going to know everything about you within a few days. You didn’t seem to mind though, content with having her in your arms again.

Pulling away from her, you quickly take her face in your hands, looking her over to see if her face was scratched up from all the times she’d met the ground in the game. 

“Shit, darling, I think you spent more time on the ground in this game than on your feet. You ought to be more careful.” Your southern drawl is especially thick when you speak to her, the worry you’d experienced the entire game bubbling to the surface.

“I’m perfectly fine, I think you’re forgetting that I do this for a living.” She smiles at you reassuringly and you calm down fully, her hand placed on your arm a sure factor of it. Lia’s head turns to your side, looking directly at your friends who both send her starstruck looks. 

“Hi, I’m Lia.” The footballer smiles in their direction and they both remain in their seats, completely unmoving. She looks back to you concerned and in response you just laugh, they were apparently not expecting her to actually greet them. “Are they okay?” 

“I think they’re just a bit starstruck.” Gesturing towards their gaping mouths, Marla quickly slaps your hand away from her face, biting at the air to show you that she wasn’t afraid to bite.

“Oh okay, well do you think they want anything signed? I can ask the team, or maybe if you want we can go meet them?” Lia sounds unsure of herself, apparently doubting that her first impression on your friends was good.

“I think that they’d love that sweetheart. But judging from all the looks we’re getting from that same team, I do think they want you back.” You glance towards the women gathered in a clung in the middle of the pitch, all of them staring at you and Lia interacting. She sighs at their slightly invasive culture, but alas there wasn’t anything that she could do about it. When you smile and wave at them, you’re thoroughly amused when every single one of them repeats your actions back to you, some in confusion and some in amusement.

“A guard is going to tell you to follow him, just do as he says and we’ll meet again soon.” By that point the stadium was almost empty, everyone wanting to go home and brag about their team’s win over the archrival. So as Lia walks away from you, you’re totally free to stare at her ass, only stopping when Marla slaps your arm harshly.

“Did that just happen?” Jason asks shakily, running his hand down his face in embarrassment.

“You’re damn right it did.” You laugh at their stupid expressions, their embarrassment clear on their faces. “Well look on the bright side, y’all are going to meet the team.” With that their embarrassment turned into excitement, meeting their favourite athletes quickly turning their mood around.

“Y/n Y/l/n? Come with me and take your friends with you.” Walking around the labyrinth of slinging hallways and narrow paths, you appear in front of the locker room in no time, the loud music escaping the door a clear indicator of the Gunners good match.

“Now just wait out here until they come out, they’ll probably be out in a few.” The guard tells you unbothered, not caring at all that he’s leaving people he doesn’t know outside of the locker room.

“Yes sir.” You speak up clearly, mock saluting him as he disappears down the hallway with a sigh.

“I can’t believe that you’re 28, you act like a 12 year old.” Marla tells you jokingly, leading to you pushing her away from you. In the span of a few seconds both you and Marla find yourselves on the floor, engaging in a wrestling match. It only gets broken up when the sound of the door opening echoes through the hallway, both you and your best friend quickly getting on your feet.

“Nah what’s going on here?” A very amused Irish accented voice escapes the player exiting the locker room, one Katie McCabe staring at you and Marla.

“It was her fault.” You point at Marla so as to gesture that it was her who started it, the woman vehemently denying it.

“So I’m guessing you’re Lia’s cowboy then?” Katie completely ignores the blame game currently going on in front of her as she talks to you. Blushing at being called Lia’s, you quickly start to stutter out an answer.

“I- uhm yeah, I think so?” Laughter coming from behind the Irish woman makes you glance in the direction of the sound. Seeing Leah Williamson of all people is not what you expect, a bit starstruck yourself.

“Of course it’s the cowboy you buffoon, who else would wear a cowboy hat in London? You have to tell me where you bought the one Lia brought home, I need a new one. Mylie-moo chewed mine to filth a couple days ago.” Leah throws her arm around your shoulder as if you’d known each other for years, the woman clearly having heard a thing or two about you.

“Oh well I’ll be sure to bring you one next time I go back to Texas, my buddy Carl, he’s 72 and he makes the most gorgeous hats you can imagine. Last time I visited him I made him an instagram page, I’ll send you the link if you want?” You speak enthusiastically with the England captain, her arm still resting around your shoulders casually. Both Marla and Jason are in a conversation with Katie and Lotte, who just got out of the locker room.

“Important question, so answer me truthfully now, do you like country music?” She looks at you skeptically, trying to deduce if you’re being truthful or not. The question itself makes you roll your eyes playfully, but alas it didn’t surprise you. It was widely known that Leah was quite the country fan.

“Ma’am I grew up in Texas, yeah I’m a country fan. I’d be disowned if I wasn’t.” Leah looks at you like you’re her hero, it was clear to you that she accepted you. The hinges of the door squeak as a few other players exit, namely Lia.

“Lia please let me steal her, she’s perfect.” Leah says jokingly, holding onto your arm softly like she was a little kid. Lia looks at her weirdly, but quickly catches on to the joke, walking over to the two of you.

“I know, that’s why I want to keep her.” Lia wraps her arms around your waist tightly, her newly washed hair curling up into adorable curls, head placed on your shoulder. 

“Sharing is caring.” Leah is on the verge of laughter as she talks, the statement a shocking one for sure. It was hilarious though so you also had to keep from laughing.

“I mean I wouldn’t mind-” Lia shoots you a mean glare at your half serious words, and even though it was like being glared at by an adorable kitten, Lia already had you wrapped around her finger. “Actually I’m taken so I don’t think that would work.” 

All it takes for you all to break character is a shouted ‘WHIPPED’ coming from one of the players watching the interaction like it was a soap opera, the three of you laughing like it was the last thing you’d do.

“Alright, anyone want a drink? Not to brag but I can make a mean cocktail.” The women all cheer as you ask them, everyone rushing out to get into their cars and get to the bar. Just as you’re about to follow them, someone takes hold of your collar, making it so that you can’t go. 

Lia looks back when you don’t follow her but you just wave her off, telling her to go on without you. Turning back, you’re met with all the ‘scariest’ Arsenal players, looking like they’re about to beat you up.

“Listen carefully now, because this will only be said once, if you hurt a hair on her head, do anything to hurt her emotionally, if you do anything wrong that makes her sad, we will not hesitate to take your knees.” It’s Katie that speaks, all the others just nodding intimidatingly, glaring at you. 

“I’m going to try my best to make her happy, I know that she deserves the world.” They let up the facade of intimidation at your words, patting your back and pushing you in the direction of the car park. The conversation as you all are walking out of the building is pleasant, when you arrive at the parking lot there are just a couple of cars left.

Both of your best friends had left you to carpool with one of the remaining players, Lia called dibs though the second she looked at you, so it was with her you went.

“They weren’t too scary with you right? I know how they can be.” Lia says over the soft music being played from the radio, some Tyler, the Creator song. You look at her face, she was in deep thought and absolutely adorable. 

“Nah, it’s like being threatened by a pair of teddy bears. Let’s just say that I’ve had worse shovel talks.” She giggles as you start to tell her about all the weird shovel talks you’d gotten back in Texas, everything from being threatened with Chinese water torture to being hung upside down from a tree for simply speaking to a girl that wasn’t her.

When the bar comes into sight you see that multiple people have parked their cars right in front of it, telling Lia to just park on the curb.

“Y’all are such dickheads.” You laugh, slapping both Marla and Jason’s heads hard, they left you stranded. 

“Well you’ve got a girlfriend now who can drive your broke ass.” Marla shoots back, rubbing her head in pain. You roll your eyes at her dramatic actions, the slap wasn’t that hard.

“One-nil to me then, at least I have someone.” The sibling like banter was normal between you two by now, she was your best friend after all.

“C’mon cowboy, let’s sit down for a little.” Lia’s hand rests on your stomach as you both sit down on the booth, the place to sit being suspiciously small, to the point in which Lia had to throw her legs over your lap to get enough space.

It was nice to sit and talk with the team, they were regular people just like anyone else and it made you glad to see them just relax after a match. The atmosphere was calm, so calm in fact that Lia managed to fall asleep on your shoulder, quiet snores escaping her mouth.

Only moments later you fall asleep too, after having fought sleep for as long as possible. Your head rests on top of Lia’s and the girls think it’s absolutely adorable, some of them taking pictures of you both to send to their group chat.

“I knew being friends with her would pay off.” Jason jokes, thinking naïvely that you were fully asleep, getting a few laughs from the girls in the room. They get startled though as you utter a quick;

“Hey!” In protest, everyone soon laughed at your dramatic reaction to his joke.

Who knew that going to the museum would result in you getting a date?

[petitemistletoe]

Mamma Mia

Pairing: James Potter x Reader, Sirius Black x Reader, Remus Lupin x Reader

Warnings: smut!

Word Count: 4.2K+

A/N: Basically Marauders Mamma Mia

Massachusetts

“I’m going to find myself,” you said, examining the items in your trunk before nodding and slamming it shut.

“That’s not a proper response to the question ‘where are you going?’” Your cousin, Lily, was lying on her stomach on your bed, thumbing through the latest edition of a British newspaper. 

“Yeah,” Mary said with a shrug of her shoulders, popping another piece of your maple candy in her mouth.

“Don’t eat all the sweets!” Marlene said with an indignant huff, handing you her remember-ball. 

“Thanks Marls,” you said, popping open your trunk again and wrapping the ball in one of your sweaters. 

“What kind of sweet is this again?” Lily asked, leaning over and grabbing a piece of maple candy from the box in Mary’s arms. 

“It’s maple candy. They make it up in Vermont.” You said with a shrug. Your trio of British friends always appreciated your American candies. Lily had introduced you all during a summer excursion and the girls had decided to move to America to attend a post-graduate certification program at your alma mater, Ilvermorny alongside you. You had finished a year ahead of the other girls since you were able to combine your NEWTs with introductory courses to the program. You had been living in an apartment, you insisted to the girls that it was an apartment not a flat, with the girls for over a year. You thought about entering the workforce after graduating, but you decided that you wanted to take a three month long trip to ‘find yourself’. 

“Are we close to Vermont?” Mary asked. 

“Yeah, it’s right above us.” You nodded, drumming your fingers on your chin. 

“What are you thinking about?” Marlene looked up at you. 

“Do you think I’ll be able to find a place in the train station to exchange my dragots for gallons?” You hummed. 

“Galleons, love, and no. You’ll have to go to Diagon Alley. It’s in London, not too far from the station. I’ll draw you a map.” Lily said, summoning a piece of parchment. 

“No Lily,” you held your hand up, “that defeats the whole purpose of what I’m doing. I’m going to travel across a few countries in Europe and find my way myself.” You shut your trunk again and nodded. 

“Is it time?” Mary asked, setting down the candies. 

“Okay,” you said with a sad smile, “no tears! It’s only three months! I’ll be back at the end of the summer.” The girls are wrapped their arms around you, hugging you tightly and placing kisses on the top of your head. 

“Good luck, darling.” Lily smiled. 

“Be safe!” Marlene called. 

“Have lots of hot sex!” Mary laughed. You laughed and gave a small wave before taking a deep breath and apparating to the center of London. 

London

It was the middle of June in London. You had packed dresses, and skirts, and shorts, and tank tops, and tops that barely covered your midriff. But it was the middle of June in London, so it was pouring rain and it was very chilly. Within a few minutes of you being outside, you were soaking wet. You were wiping the rain from your eyes and scanning for somewhere to duck into when you saw a sign that said: The Leaky Cauldron. Somewhere, in the deep recesses of your mind, you could vaguely remember Mary mentioning something about having a pasty and a pint at the Leaky Cauldron. You never could remember what the hell a pasty was, but you figured any magical place with beer was a good place to start.

You ran into the bar and seemed to attract the attention of everyone inside. You sent everyone a small smile before taking a few wet, sopping footsteps to the bar and pulling yourself onto a barstool, your trunk at your feet. 

“What can I get ya, love?” The bartender asked, quirking an eyebrow at your appearance.

“I know I must look kinda crazy,” you said, raking a hand through your wet hair, “this is my first time in London. I wasn’t prepared for rain.”

“Happens to the best of us,” the bartender shrugged, “fancy a pint to warm up?”

“Sounds good. I’ve heard Guinness is popular here.”

“It is. A pint of that then?”

“Yes thank you! Oh, I heard that you might be able to change my American money.” You said, digging around in your wallet. 

“Sure. You have one of those green dollar bills?” The bartender asked. You placed a dragot on the table. 

“Can you change that for a galleon?” You asked. The bartender released a huff of respect. 

“An American witch? Welcome to Diagon Alley.” He winked and you suddenly became far more aware of the other witches, wizards, and magical folk in the bar. “We have rooms upstairs. Fancy to stay a night or two? We can send your bags up and you can warm up by the fire with a nice glass of firewhiskey.” 

“Thanks. I’ll meet you over by the hearth then.” You said with a wink, taking a moment to wave your wand and dry yourself before snuggling into a chair with a thick blanket. The bartender floated over your drink and you held it up to him in thanks before taking a large sip. You thumbed through a volume of Quidditch through the Ages that had been lying on an empty table. Quidditch had always fascinated you. It wasn’t very common in the states, Quadpot being the more popular sport. 

“You are reading my absolute favorite book in the world.” A man said, sitting on the plush seat in front of you. 

“Oh is it?” You asked, setting your book down and taking in the sight of the man in front of you. Although Mary had been a little crass, you had every intention of riding around Europe…and you weren’t only talking about the trains. Your first candidate was an incredibly promising one to boot, he was tall, with messy dark hair, warm brown eyes, and a pair of round glasses. 

“You really have no idea who I am, do you?” The boy gestured to the bartender for another firewhiskey. 

“Am I supposed to?” You asked with an easy chuckle. The boy leaned in close and flashed you a smile. 

“I’m kind of a big deal.”

“What makes you such a big deal?” 

“I’m the chaser for the Ballycastle Bats.” The boy looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to swoon. But you didn’t. 

“Oh!” It hit you, “Oh! That’s a quidditch position! Right?” You thumbed through your book until you found the page that described all the positions. 

“You really don’t know anything about quidditch?” The boy quirked an eyebrow. 

“I’m American,” you shrugged, “I’m more of a quadpot girl.”

“Well, Miss America,” the boy leaned in closer so his nose was practically touching yours, “I’m James, consider me your guide to Diagon Alley for the foreseeable future.”

“James, I have a question for you.” You said, tucking one of James’s unruly dark locks behind his ear. 

“Anything love,” James’s voice sounded breathy.

“Do quidditch players fuck better than quadpot players?” You said with a grin. James nodded and matched your smile. 

“Why don’t we find out.”

You realized at some point later that James had never paid for his drink but you really didn’t care because James had taken you up to your hotel room and was deep inside you while rubbing your clit. You were on your back, his face close to yours as your right hand rested on his sharp jawline and your left hand was gripping his bicep. You didn’t cast a silencing spell and you were sure the other patrons of the Leaky Cauldron were cursing your name because you were screaming so loud. The firewhiskey was a warm blanket across your skin and your cheeks were hot as James pounded into mercilessly. 

“Godric, you’re so fucking hot.” James said, his glasses foggy and his hair sticking to his forehead. 

“Keep rubbing my clit,” you moaned as you jacked your leg higher and James was able to hit a deeper angle inside you. James connected his lips with yours and you moaned loudly into his mouth as you came. You squeezed tightly around him and James came a little after, burying his head in the crook of your neck and whimpering as he came, hot white ribbons inside you. 

The two of you talked for hours after, he tried to explain the rules of Quidditch to you and you would just laugh. James made good on his promise, too, he gave you a tour of Diagon Alley and wizard London before you apparated up to Scotland. 

The Scottish Highlands

The girls told you all about the quaint village next to their school in the highlands. You spent your days traveling the highlands, sitting in sweet cafes with a scone and a mug of milky tea, reading on a boat on Loch Ness, and visiting all the historic and gorgeous castles. You were going to spend your final day in Hogsmeade before making your way to your next destination. You spent the day wandering Hogsmeade, dipping in and out of sweet shops, joke shops, and little book stores. You settled yourself in a pub called the Three Broomsticks and sipped on a hot butterbeer while reading a book that you had found at Tomes and Scrolls: The New Edition of the Patronus Spellbook. 

“That’s a great book you’re reading,” a voice said, disrupting you from your thoughts. You rolled your eyes. Did all British wizards use the same pick up lines?

“Oh really?” You were sort of tired after all the days of apparating around Scotland and wanted a quiet night in the corner of the pub. 

“Yes. It’s one of my favorites.” The stranger said, sitting next to you. You looked up at him finally and took him in. He was tall, skinny, with thin light scars on his face and hands. He was wearing a knitted sweater and a very worn in pair of trousers. 

“Why’s that?” You asked, still uninterested. 

“I wrote the forward.” He said with an easy shrug, “Remus Lupin. Nice to meet you.” 

“Oh wow,” you were interested now, “it’s a pleasure.”

“I didn’t mean to disturb your reading, I was just a bit excited. The new edition came out yesterday, I was just nipping to the shops to purchase a copy for myself and have a drink to celebrate.” 

“So Remus, do you do other things besides writing forewords?” You asked, asking for another drink from the barkeep for Remus.

“Ah thank you,” Remus accepted the pint and took a long sip, “I am a professor at Hogwarts, I teach Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

“Oh, so you’re Professor Lupin then, aren’t you?” You said, leaning in. Remus looked down at you and gave you a wolffish grin. 

“That I am.” 

You had many, many more drinks with Remus as he told you all about his first few years of working as a professor and the various difficulties that came with it. He talked all about his new patronus research until patronus didn’t sound like a real word anymore. 

“I have a confession for you, Professor.” You said, a goofy smile on your face.

“Anything love.” Remus rested his hand on your thigh. 

“I have a fantasy,” you said, leaning in so your nose was practically touching his, “about fucking a professor in his office.”

You and Remus stumbled back on the path that lead from the village to the school. It was a gorgeous, gargantuan castle that was unlike anything you had ever seen before. You made a mental note to tease your cousin about her downplaying her school. He had a gorgeous office, with high ceilings, books and bars of chocolate strewn about various tables. There was a large wardrobe and about three cups of discarded tea resting on a nearby trunk.

“This is a gorgeous office,” you said, sitting on the corner of one of the large trunks. Your fingers ran over a long skeleton candle that rested on his desk. 

“Thank you,” Remus said, setting his book down and standing so his body was between your legs, “can I get you a cup of tea?”

“You could get me something else,” you pulled Remus down by the collar of his sweater until his face was level with yours and you kissed him hard. He kissed you back, pulling at the hem of your shirt until it was up and over your head. You stood and had to extend your neck all the way to account for the distance between you and him. His large hands went down to cup your breasts, gently. You realized that his hands were shaking. You pulled back and gave Remus a small smile. 

“We don’t have to,” you said, softly, “if you don’t want to.”

“No,” Remus said with a light shake of his head, “I do want to. I’m just a bit nervous. You’re so beautiful.”

“Oh Professor Lupin,” you said, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips, “you are quite a charmer.”

Remus lifted your head with his finger and kissed you again. You helped him out of his sweater this time and saw the long, thin pale scars that traced around his chest like the ones on his face. You kissed along Remus’s jawline and down his neck to his chest. Remus threw his head back and exhaled a soft moan. 

You kissed down Remus’s chest until your nose bumped against his belt buckle. He looked down and you and gave you a small nod. You unbuckled his belt and kissed up and down his length. Remus released a strangled moan and you placed a bit of pressure on his balls. 

“You can be loud for me,” you said before taking a deep breath and taking as much of him as you could into your mouth. 

“Oh fuck,” Remus gasped, gripping the edge of his desk. You continued blowing him until Remus’s breathing picked up and you pulled off. Remus whimpered softly and looked at you as you stood and slipped out of your own pants. You moved Remus so he was standing over you while you had your back to the desk and you hoisted yourself on, spreading your legs wide and dropping your panties to the floor. 

“Come on Professor Lupin,” you said with a smile, “dive right in.” 

Remus grabbed you by the waist and spun you around, pushing your front into the desk harshly. You felt him rubbing the head of his cock against your folds before pushing in deeply. You moaned and grasped for purchase on the desk. Remus’s fingers dug into your hips as he snapped his hips against you, again and again and again. 

His lips attached themselves to your neck and one of his large hands left your hip to grasp harshly at your tit. 

“Rub your clit,” he rasped. You started rubbing your clit rapidly, your moans jumping off the cavernous walls. Remus came and you came after moaning and sweating. Remus stayed inside you, resting his head against your shoulder. 

Remus left for a moment to nip to the toilets and you tried to apparate out of his office and back to your room in Hogsmeade but couldn’t. You didn’t feel that drunk, why couldn’t you apparate?

“You can’t apparate inside Hogwarts, so stop trying. You look like you’re going to pop a blood vessel.” Remus said, walking back in and holding a bar of chocolate out to you. 

“Thanks,” you took a bite from the chocolate and smiled at Remus. He walked you back to Hogsmeade and left you standing in front of your tavern with a lingering kiss and a bar of chocolate. 

Paris 

Everyone had always talked about dirty Paris was and you had honestly considered cutting it from your program altogether. Sitting on Rue Victor Hugo at a cafe with a croissant and the deepest, creamiest hot chocolate you had ever tasted as you took in the sights and sounds of the French capital, you were very happy that you decided to keep Paris on your list. You were even happier to watch the various European men make their way to and from work and pass by the cafe in their tailored suits, finely pressed trousers, smart sweaters, and loafers. You looked around you for a moment before snapping your fingers to light your joint. You waved your hand a second time to disguise your joint as a cigarette-a trick you had learned from one of your friends at Ilvermorny.  Lily would have had a cow had she known that you were smoking weed in public, but she what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

“Une autre chocolat chaud s’il vous plait,” another hot chocolate please you gestured at the waitress. She came around with a fresh cup and you set your sights on a very attractive man who looked a bit out of place. He had rode up on a motorcycle and took his helmet off, securing it to the bike. His ran a slender, ring covered hand through his long dark and shook his head as he got off the bike. He was wearing an expensive looking leather jacket with a thin dark t-shirt underneath, a pair of distressed looking jeans, and a pair of Doc Martens. He took his jacket off to reveal thin, winding tattoos on his arms and chest. You hoped he would cross the street and take one of the seats at the cafe. He was digging around in his jean pockets for a cigarette when another boy turned the corner onto the street of the cafe. The other boy looked quite a bit like the motorcycle boy but…cleaner. He was wearing a tailored pair of trousers, a crisp white button down, and a smart jacket. His dark curls were nicely styled and his thin, long fingers gestured down quickly so the cigarette between the motorcycle boy’s fingers fell to the ground. One of the second boy’s crisp loafers stamped on the cigarette and he pursed his lips. 

“Sirius, what are you doing?” The second boy shook his head.

“Shove off Reg,” motorcycle boy, Sirius, said, raking a hand through his hair. 

“Don’t call me that. My name is Regulus, you know that. You can’t keep running, Sirius. It isn’t sustainable.” Regulus looked at Sirius with an expression of pity.

“I just…I don’t care about it, Reg. I don’t care about any of it. You’re better at this anyway. You can deal with all that family stuff better than I can. Just let me grab a coffee and a cigarette and I’ll see you later.” Sirius did not wait for Regulus to respond. He marched across the street to the cafe you were at and you had to force yourself to pretend you were very interested in your menu. Regulus sighed and threw his hands in the air before coming back the way he came. 

“Madame, un cafe. Merci.” Ma’am, a coffee. Thanks. Sirius barked at the waitress. 

“Oui Monsieur.” Yes sir. The waitress responded, rolling her eyes. 

“Do you always eavesdrop?” Sirius asked, taking a seat at the table next to yours. 

“Sorry,” you shrugged, “you and that other guy put on quite a show.”

“Oh my brother Regulus? Yes we’re quite the pair.” Sirius rolled his eyes as the waitress set down his coffee. He took a sip and then paused. 

“Something wrong with your coffee?” You asked.

“You’re smoking weed.” He said, sniffing in your direction. 

“How do you know that?” You asked. 

“You’re a witch, aren’t you.” Sirius grinned at you.

“So you must be a wizard then.” You laughed. 

“You have to teach me that trick,” Sirius moved his chair so it was close to yours. You ran your tongue the bottoms of your front teeth.

“I bet I could teach you a lot.” 

Turns out that Sirius got off on pissing off his family so in hindsight it wasn’t all that surprising that he took you back to his family’s chateau in the middle of the afternoon. They were gone, out, at some event but Sirius pulled you to the middle of the drawing room in front of a roaring fireplace. You sat down on the rug and took in the warmth and glow of the fire. 

“So you’re a rich boy, then?” You said teasingly as Sirius pulled off his shirt and laid down in front of the fireplace with you. 

“Filthy rich,” Sirius responded, pulling you close to him and connecting his lips with yours. You did not break apart as he laid you down in front of the fire, pulling off your clothes with an animalistic intensity. Sirius was devouring you, his teeth and tongue all over your face, neck, and tits. He barely prepared you at all, just pushing in without warning. Your nails pressed into his shoulder blades as you looked at him, ready to snap about his hasty action when his thumb began rubbing hard on your clit. You had your legs wrapped around him as you were biting his collarbone to keep from moaning. 

Sirius pulled out of you and flipped you over so you were on top and he turned you so you were facing away from him. 

“Get loud baby. Use me,” he said, his hands planted firmly on your hips as you sunk down on him. You were moaning intensely as you moved up and down, the new position providing a new angle for you. You came hard, your fingers searching for purchase on the rug as Sirius fucked you through your orgasm. 

“Are you close?” You turned back to look at Sirius. He looked gorgeous, his sweaty curls plastered in his forehead and his hands heavy on your waist, a look of concentration in his eyes. 

“Uh, not yet.” He barked out, a vein popping in his forehead. 

“Spread your legs a little further,” You said, pushing at Sirius’s ankles. He did what you said and you sucked on your finger for a moment before pushing it between his cheeks and into his asshole. Sirius was moaning loudly now. It sounded like a name or something, he was moaning “Moony” over and over again. He was so loud that you didn’t hear the door open and notice people entering the house until Sirius was cumming intensely inside you as Regulus and a woman who could have only been Sirius’s mother were glaring down at you. You gathered your clothes quickly and apparated out before Sirius had finished lighting his cigarette. 

Massachusetts 

You were exhausted and thoroughly ready to sleep in your own bed by the time you arrived back home. You threw your trunk by the front door and called out, 

“I’m back witches!” 

Lily, Marlene, and Mary swarmed you, peppering you with hugs and kisses and beginning to hear all about your travels and see the souvenirs you brought back for them. You filled them in and by the time you were talking about your escapades with the athlete, the professor, and the heir, you were even more ready for bed. 

“Well have a good night darling. Also I’m so sorry but I used the last tampon a few hours ago, I’m going to nip to the shops in the morning,” Mary said. 

“Leave it to Mary to use the last period product in this house knowing full well that we’ve all been synced for the past few years.” Marlene playfully tossed a pillow at Mary. 

“Wait,” something dropped in your stomach, “you’re all on your period? Right now?” 

“Yeah, started two days ago. Why? You haven’t started yours?” Lily asked. 

“No. No I haven’t.” You started chewing your lip, “Anyone have a pregnancy test?”

“In the last drawer of the bathroom,” Mary pointed out as you shot up out of your seat to take the test. Your leg bounced anxiously as you waited to see the results of the test.

“Okay love, I’m sure your period is just all messy from traveling and-oh my…” Lily’s jaw dropped as she looked at your positive test,

“Who’s the father?” Marlene asked. 

“I…uh…I have no idea.” You said as you thought back to the athlete, the professor, and the heir.

[evieelyzabethh]

Hey can u do a spike smut

I have another Spike smut fic coming so I'm gonna use this to drop my sfw and nsfw Spike headcannons because fun fact, the buffy brain rot is real and I have over 100 pages of buffy reboot material. anyways...

warning: not proofread

sfw:

Spike purely smokes because he thinks it makes him look cool. I think when it comes to vampires, they either physically cannot feel the effects of drugs or are lightweights. He hates the smell of smoke, hence the duster jacket, and refuses to smoke in his crypt because of the shit ventilation

Speaking of smoking, William was most definitely asthmatic. He had no friends in boys school because too much physical movement sent him wheezing. He did enjoy horseback riding though

He has poetry stashed somewhere, I just know it. Under some slab of rock or rolled in some random alcohol bottle pirate style, it's somewhere.

Spike would love an English major or anyone who has a hobby aligned with creative writing. This doesn't mean he'd automatically show you anything he's written but he'd be more open to the possibility sooner rather than later.

Very picky with what he steals/wears. He will not just put any old rags on. He dressed Drusilla and he is a fashion icon and I stand by that

As for him with a partner, I do think he is the type to fall first and incredibly hard

I think how familiar you are with one another would dictate a lot. If you were a Scooby, I wouldn't say he'd keep his distance, but he wouldn't be super outright with his affection. There'd be some playful banter here and there, dare I say some flirting, and maybe even some gift-giving every now and again. He's like a crow, he'd be the type to drop things on your windowsill just because it reminded him of you

If you two didn't know each other, he'd most definitely be the stalking type. Every time you're walking home from school, there WILL be a dark figure following you around. You're getting harassed by some rando? If you paid attention to the newspaper, you'd see they mysteriously went missing. You can go from eyeing something while window shopping to it magically ending up on your doorstep

Never the one to make the first move. He wouldn't say a word unless he was 100% confident that you liked him back, and even then, there'd be a lot of hesitation

He would love a forward partner. Someone who makes his insecurities melt away and who he doesn't have to worry about them ever getting over him. When he loves, he loves forever. He has all of time to love you and his ideal partner would be someone who wants to spend all of time with him

He is such a romantic!!! I think he would be so into matching couples costumes or just matching outfits in general. Super into domesticity wherever he can get it, decorating a home together, cleaning together, cooking together, doing anything together

Since he can't have a job, I do see him being a house husband. It gives him something to do during the day. Wears a 'kiss the cook' apron and pouts if you don't give him kisses while wearing it. I headcannon that he spent time all over Europe, including France, and had some really good pastries at some cafe that closed like 200 years ago and made it his life's mission to recreate them. The grocery bill is high but it makes him happy

Valentine's Day is his absolute favorite holiday and he makes a big deal of outdoing himself every year. Not in terms of money or extravagance, but meaning. He treats every day as a new one to know more about you. It's not enough to know your favorite color, he needs to know the exact shade, exact hue, and exact context you love it in. He knows your allergies, remembers your favorite outfits, and keeps track of your cleaning habits so he can make everything shiny and new when you forget yourself. He becomes a master of all trades to make you whatever you want exactly how you want it

He does really like Halloween, too. He's a huge fan of the Scream movies. He dislikes when horror movies try too hard. Being so used to gore, blood, and guts, he prefers a funnier, more unserious scary movie

Speaking of blood, he starts out against drinking from you. He used to only do it to kill someone, or at least with the intent to cause harm. He didn't trust himself not to get overwhelmed and hurt you. But I feel like at some point he either gets hurt on patrol or his stash gets low and you both forgot to restock and he has to. It was a very close call, and he couldn't bring himself to even look at you after the fact. He only warms up to it if it's necessary. He avoids it, but there are always slip-ups. He has bitten you during sex a few times when he got a bit too into it. He says he refuses to do it unless it's for your pleasure

He is so obsessed with you, if you couldn't tell. You're his favorite person, favorite scent, favorite taste. Not to be slightly yandere on main, but he would kill for you and kill himself if he wasn't enough for you. Never leave you. Never hurt you. Spike would never.

nsfw:

He is neither an ass or tits guy, he's just a 'you' guy. Absolutely everything about you gets him going. You think it's funny at first until you're trying to eat a bowl of spaghetti and he's staring at you, hard. It's not his fault the stray sauce around your lips looked like blood and vampire you is a very hot concept to him

You guys have to own a house. The noise complaints would be too much and you'd get evicted. I do see him as more of a groaner than a moaner, but sometimes it's just too much and it's both. Sometimes it's just one hand gripping the pillow your head is resting on, the other on the headboard, and his head in the crook of your neck practically whimpering as you milk his cock

You also have a tendency to get pretty loud, and as much as he loves your voice, his super vampire hearing can't take it sometimes :(

Doesn't really matter the position, but it's hard and he's so big. You can feel him in your damn ribs and it's choking you up. You don't even realize how loud you are. It's not until you hear his raspy voice in your ear. "I know, love, I know. It's a lot, but I need you to be a bit quieter. You're hurting me." And you pout a bit and try to mumble apologies that just sound like gibberish. You try, futilely, but surely he must understand that you can't help it. Not when it's this good. He whispers again, rubs where your belly bulges from his dick, but it doesn't seem to work. He eventually flips you over to shove your head in the pillows and you were far too out of it to complain. You like it a bit rough anyway.

As mentioned previously, he is a biter. He can't help it, it's instinct honestly. Its not like you mind, you clench even harder when he does. The sudden smell of iron is drowned out by the stench of sex and sweat, and the piercing feel of his fangs into your neck only stings for a bit. He makes up for it by licking up whatever spills <3 Being with a vampire was always going to be at least a little painful

He likes his hair pulled. You're fingers in his hair in general is heaven on earth, but being pulled around a bit is nice

Has a thing for tearing your clothes off. He really does like being a vampire, feeling big and strong in a way he was never able to when he was human. There is a feral piece of him, maybe its the demon inside him or it was always present, but seeing your clothes in pieces after the fact just scratches the itch in his brain

Speaking of brain, enjoys giving and receiving head equally. Being absolutely obsessed with you, and very secretly obsessed with the taste of your blood, he could die happily with your cum on his lips. Between your legs is his favorite place for real. As for receiving, it's his favorite way of shutting you up in any scenario.

Bruises. Everywhere. Hickeys. Everywhere. He's possessive but not exactly an exhibitionist, they end up along your collarbones and your thighs. Places where they can easily be hidden or revealed

Plays old music because he's old. He refuses to use modern technology because he likes his old as dirt aesthetic but definitely plays sexy orchestral music. I simply do not believe him to be an RnB kinda guy

He likes seeing you in his clothes after!! Going back to the whole love for domesticity thing, it just feels right. He's, shockingly, not always a horny fuck in the morning. Sometimes it feels more right to just look at you, the pretty after sex glow on your face, your messy hair, your cheeks pressed into the pillow. If you get up before him and put on what he had on the night before, it just completes the picture.

When he is a horny fuck in the morning, it's still just as soft and slow as the non-sexual mornings. He likes to be the big spoon simply because it's easier to slide his dick between your thighs and hold your tits at the same time

[lottins-only]

I love you, it's ruining my life | Part III

pairing: Kylian x black!fem!Reader

warnings: some nsfw (?) content

word count: 6.9k

part one, part two

A/N: this one is a bit long 🫠 Thank you to those who read the first two parts, and to those who sent me sweet messages🙏🏾Inbox is open, so please do let me know your thoughts !! <3

III. December 2022

“What are those for?” 

Y/N followed Ethan’s inquisitive gaze to the top of her tote bag . She quickly shoved down the bags of candy peeking out, trying to conceal their abundance. She knew she’d packed way too many, but more meant better options, she’d reasoned. Especially since the person they were meant for had the sweet tooth of a 5 year old. 

“Oh, you know me, I always have to have snacks on me” She lied.

Ethan looked at her like she was a madman, then shook his head before turning his attention to his phone. They were sitting outside at a luxurious hotel that served as the base camp of the French National Team for the duration of the World Cup. With the final only a few days away, the FFF had organized a “fun day” for the players to unwind with their loved ones. There were bouncy castles and inflatable slides littered around the lawn for children, while the irresistible aroma of barbecue wafted through the air. Kylian was somewhere entertaining his niece and nephew, and was hanging out with his parents as well. Y/N and Ethan, introverts as they were, spent most of their time chilling on the lounge chairs drinking mojitos (Virgin mojitos for Ethan; he’d tried to convince her to let him have a try from her drink but she’d refused). 

Y/N was enjoying herself. Truly savoring every moment. A one month-long, all-expenses-paid trip to watch her best friend play in the World Cup? She couldn’t have submitted her PTO request fast enough.  

 “It’s probably only going to be 2 weeks though”  Kylian had said to her half- jokingly when he’d proposed the idea over the phone. He was referring to the “winner's curse”, the jinx that often saw past winners exit the tournament in the group stages.  But against all odds, France was once again in the final of the World Cup. 

She opened her phone, dismayed to find zero new messages from her boyfriend of 8 months, Lucas. They had met when she moved to Madrid straight after graduating from university. She’d found a job at a small public health non-profit, and Lucas had been one of the few people working there that was her age. They’d quickly struck up a friendship,  and he’d immediately asked her out after he left that job a few years later. It was a no-brainer for Y/N to say yes. He was good looking, charming, and made her laugh. Besides, it was well past the time to move on from Kylian. 

For his part, Kylian had been ecstatic when she’d returned to Europe. They had grown closer after both of their moves,  despite the distance. They facetimed at least once a week, and it sort of became a tradition for Kylian to give her a quick call before games. They’d text regularly too, their conversations meandering from trivial topics to deep confessions. Once, she’d mentioned that she used “Study with me” YouTube videos for her study sessions, as it was a way to keep herself accountable. 

“I could do that with you, you don’t need stupid youtube videos” he’d said confidently over the phone. 

She’d laughed. “You can’t shut up for 2 minutes if your life depended on it, Ky”

“No, I can” he’d said seriously. “I want to, for you”

And so they’d formed another tradition. They’d sit silently on facetime for hours and hours, Y/N poring over her books and notes, and Kylian in his room alone doing god knows what. He’d check in on her every once in a while, always encouraging. She knew that he had a busy life and few precious hours to himself, so she was grateful that he’d decided to spend that time with her, doing something that had no immediate benefit to him whatsoever. 

They’d opened up more about their love lives as well, as they’d promised to each other back in Monaco. She didn’t volunteer any information herself, because it was still  a little weird, but she’d answer questions if he probed. It was a lot less easy for Kylian to hide things from her, thanks to his growing fame. She’d only have to scroll through her explore page on Instagram or go through gossip websites to find detailed information about any woman who so much as breathed next to him. He’d continued dating people after the breakup with Sophia, which had happened only a month after her visit in Monaco. But much to her relief, it was never serious with anyone. She’d once seen pictures of him in the stands at the Parc des Princes with a blonde actress, and that old feeling of jealousy had snuck up on her like it had never left.  But just two weeks later, Kylian informed her that it was over. 

She had mentioned  Lucas to him  pretty early on in the relationship. Like she expected, he’d made a bad joke out of it. Something about HR needing to be alerted. She’d reminded him, rather annoyed, that Lucas no longer worked at her workplace. He didn’t say anything after that, quickly changing the subject. One day, however, Lucas mentioned something that gave her pause.

“You know something crazy that happened to me today?” He’d laughed. They were lounging on her couch in her apartment, watching a movie. “Kylian Mbappe liked a picture of mine on Instagram, from like 6 years ago”

She’d furrowed her eyebrows. Lucas was a huge football fan, but Y/N still hadn’t mentioned her friendship with Kylian. It had only been a month of them seeing each other, and about 3 days after she’d told Kylian about him. 

“Yeah, look” Lucas brought out his phone and showed her a screenshot. Sure enough, Kylian’s username was under a picture of Lucas’ dated December 2016. Lucas was a regular poster on Instagram, so Kylian must have scrolled far back to find that picture. She raised her eyebrows in surprise. 

“I know right?” Lucas  had said. “Funny thing is, it disappeared just a few seconds after I got the notification. So random.”

She imagined THE Kylian Mbappe in his bed late at night, lurking on Instagram, accidentally liking an old picture and then hurriedly unliking. 

“Yeah” she had said, a smile tugging at her lips. “Random”

As Y/N’s thoughts drifted back to the present, she glanced at her phone again. Still empty. After a rocky couple weeks  of arguments, Y/N and Lucas decided to go on a break. Lucas had grown distant and less affectionate. He was less present when they spent time together, and was generally making less effort in the relationship. It had been a punch to the gut when he’d forgotten her birthday two weeks ago. She hadn’t said anything; he’d only realized when he saw the huge bouquet of flowers from Kylian sitting on her dining table. 

That was also another sore spot in their relationship; Lucas was not at all comfortable with her friendship with Kylian. He hadn’t mentioned it, and she had made a point to tone down the constant texting and calling as soon as they became official, but she could still see it in the way he behaved. The World Cup trip was the tipping point. She couldn’t blame him; Her male best friend, who was one of the most famous footballers in the world, was bankrolling a one month trip for her to watch him play on the world’s biggest stage. It would be a hit to the ego for any man. But frankly, she was tired. She was tired of him, and she wanted time away from him. And so the break began. 

She did not miss him, if she was being honest with herself. Yet, she couldn’t help checking her phone to see if he’d reached out.  Lucas was the only person she’d been seriously interested in, besides Kylian. Maybe it wasn’t wise to give up on something good over a bad month or so. A tiny, insecure part of her told her she’d never find someone who liked her just as much as Lucas.

“Hi there” A deep voice cut through her thoughts. She looked up to see a very handsome face.

He stood tall in the dark blue tracksuit of the French national team, smiling at her broadly. She recognized him immediately. 

“Hi” She responded shyly, having never spoken to Kylian’s national team teammates before. 

“Saw you from over there” Aurelien Tchouameni pointed to the mini basketball court, where some other players were shooting hoops. “And you’re really pretty”

Straight to the point, then. Ethan snorted from across the table. 

“Uh.. thanks” She said nervously. “I have a boyfriend though”

Aurelien glanced at Ethan, then at her. Realization dawned on his face, and he held up his hands apologetically. “Oh, you’re Y/N! I should’ve realized… So you and Kylian finally got together, huh?”

“W-What?” She blabbered. Ethan was now laughing. “No, we’re not dating. Just friends”

“Oh” Aurelien said, his eyebrows furrowing. “Sorry. It’s just that he always talks about you”

“Really?”

“Yeah, whenever we talk about shows and music and stuff, he’s always like Y/N recommended this, Y/N said that”

“Yeah, he basically stole my entire personality” She deadpanned, trying to feel less awkward.

He laughed, nodding in agreement. “Well, you guys have fun. And sorry about that, I just had to shoot my shot”

He winked and walked away as quickly as he’d appeared.

She turned to Ethan, who was no doubt opening his mouth to tease her. She held up her hand. “Don’t even”

Y/N unloaded the contents of her tote bag on the bed, spilling out every type of candy Kylian had ever enjoyed. She turned to him, smiling proudly. “There you go, Monsieur”

Kylian’s eyes lit up as he grabbed a bag of M&Ms and tore it open. “Thank you” he said with a dimpled grin.

He’d  texted her the day before asking her to grab him some candy, and she was happy to oblige. Kylian was the most disciplined person she’d ever met, but everyone deserves a cheat day—especially someone who’d made it to his second World Cup final at 23. She’d waited until they were alone in his room to give him the treats, careful to not be seen by any of the coaching staff. 

She leaned back on her chair and opened her phone, once again checking for new messages. 

“Stop that” Kylian scolded.

“Stop what?” She asked innocently.

“I know what you’re doing” he said. “I can’t believe you’re the one who’s hung up on him while he’s the asshole. It should be the other way around”

“I’m not hung up on him” She said, flustered. “I’m just…”

“You’re checking your phone every 5 minutes” He cut in. “You deserve someone who gives you their full attention and consideration, you know”

And why can’t that person be you?

The door burst open and Ethan walked in, his eyes immediately landing on all the candy.

“I knew it!” He pointed at her, accusatorial. “I knew it was for him”

She shrugged apologetically. 

Ethan happily opened a bag of Haribos, and turned to his brother, a mischievous look on his face. “Did she tell you about Tchouameni?”

“What about him?” Kylian responded absentmindedly, his attention on his phone. 

“He hit on her” Ethan said grinning “And then when he found out who she was he said he thought you two were dating”

An idea unfurled in Y/N’s head. “He’s so hot” she said. “Maybe I should ask for his number. Might as well, right? Since Lucas and I are basically done…”

“No” Kylian’s voice rose slightly. “No, don’t do that.”

“Why not?” She asked “You just said I deserve someone who gives me attention. Aurelien seems like the type”

He was fidgeting now, irritation clearly written on his face. “Athletes are assholes, haven’t you heard that before? Also, it would be weird for you to date my teammate”

“Are you saying you’re an asshole?” She asked

“No, but.. Just trust me” He turned his attention back to his phone, clearly uncomfortable. 

Y/N wasn’t much of a football fan, but she knew that the match she just witnessed was one of the best ever played. The highs and lows, the split second moments that changed the trajectory of the whole game, the sheer unpredictability of the whole thing. Every single movement made by the players felt like the tipping point. The atmosphere inside the stadium was electric, a living, breathing entity fueled by the passion and excitement of the fans watching. By the time the Argentinian player had kicked the final penalty to seal his country’s win, she was overwhelmed by a deep feeling of sadness. So much so, that she felt tears prick her eyes. She looked down at Kylian, only a small figure from her seat in the stands. His shoulder was slumped, his entire body deflated. He had given his all, and yet he had lost.  Teammates and coaching staff alike kept coming up to him to comfort him. She desperately wanted to go over to him, to hold him, but she knew she couldn’t enter the pitch until after the medal ceremony. 

She saw him and his teammates retreat into the tunnels just as Messi lifted up the World Cup to the cheer of thousands. She turned to his family and friends,  with whom she’d been cheering in elation at Kylian’s equalizing goal just a few minutes ago. 

“Go” his father urged her “The only person he’d want to see right now is you”

She didn’t need to be told twice. She weaved her way through the stadium, flashing her VIP access lanyard when met with security, and asking for directions once or twice. She passed through the final set of security before finding herself outside the French team’s locker rooms. She informed the guard outside who she was looking for. He went inside, and moments later, came back out with Kylian. 

Her heart nearly shattered at the sight of him. He kept his head down, but she could see his eyes were bloodshot. Without a word, she wrapped him in a tight hug, feeling him shake silently in her embrace. She had never seen Kylian cry before. 

“Hey” she murmured softly. “It’s okay”

He buried his face in her shoulder, his breath hitching with each silent sob. Her own tears slipped down her cheeks. He gently let go a few moments later, and they sat down on the floor, leaning against the hallway wall. 

“I thought we had it” He said, his voice cracking. 

“ I know you did” She said gently, wiping a tear falling down his cheeks. “ You gave your everything. Sometimes it just comes down to luck, Ky. There’s nothing you can do about it” She took his hand and squeezed it reassuringly. 

Kylian nodded, but she knew he didn’t believe her. Knowing him, this night would haunt him for a long time. 

“Thank you for being here” His voice was steadier now. He leaned his head on her shoulder. 

“Always” She whispered. 

They sat there for some minutes, watching the hallway slowly become filled with the families of the other players. Her heart warmed at the sight of Griezmann’s daughters comforting their father. Her thumb was slowly caressing the back of Kylian’s hand. Turning slowly, she kissed his forehead. She wondered if they looked like a couple just then, with their hands joined in her lap and her lips on his forehead.

                        

It was 2 days after that disappointing night in Qatar,  and two nights since Y/N had been unceremoniously dumped over the phone.

The weight of the defeat had lingered that night, sucking the energy out of everyone. By the time Y/N and the Mbappes returned to the hotel, the atmosphere was thick with sadness and disappointment. She’d gotten the call just as she’d walked into her hotel room. Lucas’ voice had been calm and detached as he’d delivered the news she had dreaded: their relationship was over. The entire conversation was a blur, but there were bits and pieces that stung so much it still echoed in her head. “ I don’t feel that connection anymore” to “I’m clearly second choice here”  and “you’ve been lying to yourself all this time”. She’d cried herself to sleep, overwhelmed by a storm of heartache and confusion.

She had planned to go straight to Madrid after the final but decided to hide out with her parents in Paris for a couple days. It was now the 20th, Kylian’s birthday. She hadn’t spoken to him since coming back to Paris, caught up in her own heartbreak, but she’d received an invitation for a birthday dinner via his assistant. It took everything in her to drag herself out of bed and to get ready. 

The restaurant was one of the most famous in Paris, and Kylian’s personal favorite. He’d reserved the entire space for his friends and family. It was cozy, with dimmed lights and ambient music  blending in with the chatter of the guests. A single long table stretched across the room, dotted with candlelight. 

As Y/N made her way through the room, she greeted everyone –  Kylian’s parents, his brothers, his closest teammates, his close friends, and other acquaintances. To her embarrassment, she’d been the last guest to arrive. His assistant guided her to the only open seat left, right next to Kylian. 

“No one wants to sit next to the birthday boy?” She quipped as she took her place.

“Was saving it for you” He replied. He looked handsome in a blue Dior sweater and black denim jeans. His tan from Qatar was already fading, and he had a small smile playing on his face. They chatted for a bit, asking each other about their respective heartbreaks, before becoming engrossed in the lively conversations surrounding them. 

At one point, they caught each other’s eyes. The candlelight was casting strange shadows on his face. She smiled at him, and without thinking, poked at one of his dimples. “I’m really glad you were born, by the way”

“ I know” His eyes sparkled with amusement. His  arm was draped casually over the back of her chair, their faces close. He  gently tugged at a single braid of her hair with his other hand and murmured, “I like your hair like this. It’s new right?”

It was indeed new. She’d decided to try boho braids for the first time. 

You deserve someone who gives you their full attention and consideration, you know. 

Someone cleared their throat, and they sprung apart. It was the waitstaff, ready to serve appetizers. They spoke sparingly as they ate. Kylian, the menace that he was, kept reaching for bites from her plate. She elbowed him whenever he did, but she didn’t hesitate to steal from his plate as well. 

After everyone had eaten and all the food was cleared, a huge cake with 24 individual candles was brought out. She made sure to take a video of Kylian smiling as everyone sang Joyeux Anniversaire, giggling at how awkward he looked. 

“Make a wish first!” Someone called just as he was about to blow out the candles.

He paused,  his gaze locking with Y/N’s over her phone screen as he playfully pointed a finger at her. He continued blowing out his candles, never breaking eye contact with her. A chorus of laughter came from the guests at his antics, and Y/N felt her face burn as she put down her phone. 

“He’s so down bad for her…” She could hear Tchaga snigger. Another ripple of laughter broke out from the guests at his comment. She wished the ground would open up and swallow her at that moment. 

The laughter and celebration gradually tapered off after some time, and Y/N and some other friends were invited by Kylian to his apartment for some drinks. He had training the next day and didn’t want to do some heavy clubbing. 

The sound of easy laughter and the clinking of glasses filled Kylian’s apartment. Y/N and Kylian were sitting on the couch in his living room, their bodies close together despite them being the only occupants. They were reminiscing about the time Kylian had tried to convince her to play in a school tournament. There was a rule that the teams had to be mixed, and not a lot of girls wanted to play. He’d begged Y/N to join, and she’d reluctantly accepted on the condition that he’d buy her a teddy bear if they won.  They were playing for a plastic trophy that cost 2 euros, yet Kylian treated it like it was life or death. They won, and Y/N got her teddy bear.

“I still have that teddy bear, you know” she said.

“Yeah?”

“Uh-huh. It’s probably my favorite gift I’ve ever received”

He hummed, clearly pleased. She didn’t know when and how, but her leg was slung over his. His hand was on her, his fingers softly tracing lines up and down her calf. 

“So, I’m your birthday wish huh?” She knew she wouldn’t be bold enough to say those words any other time, but here they were. The physical proximity was like a promise of something greater happening. 

“Yup” He met her eyes confidently, his eyes shining. 

“Maybe you should’ve started small though. Like a kiss?” She tried her best to sound flirtatious.

He laughed, “Ok. Let me redo the wish”

He cleared his throat and closed his eyes, a small smile still playing on his lips. He put his palms together as if in prayer and said in a deep, affected voice, “ Dear Universe, for my 24th birthday, I wish to receive a kiss from Y/N”

Without skipping a beat, she leaned in and slanted her lips over his. She could feel his breath hitch, like he hadn’t expected her to do that. It hardly took a second for him to kiss back though. It was slow, sensual. Tender and exploratory. His tongue brushed her lips before slipping inside, and she welcomed him with a soft sigh. The hand that had been on her calf quickly moved to her hips, and his other hand gently cupped her face. Her stomach was a puddle, and she was glad that they were sitting down because she was sure her knees would’ve given out if they were standing. The kiss deepened and went on and on and on, until they had to break away for air. He looked dazed, his lips glistening from her shiny lipgloss.

He quickly put his lips back on her, but Y/N pulled away.

She pressed her lips over his ear and murmured, “You need to tell everyone to leave. Now”

Kylian quickly waved Tchaga over and whispered in his ear urgently. Y/N didn’t feel a trace of shame when Tchaga shot her a knowing, teasing look. She was just happy that he was making quick work of announcing  that the party was over and ushering everyone out of Kylian’s apartment.

No sooner had the apartment emptied and the door slammed behind Tchaga that she climbed his lap. She was able to get one sloppy kiss in before Kylian pulled away breathlessly. “We need to get to my room”

And so he hoisted her up and effortlessly walked them all the way up the stairs and into his bedroom. They kissed fiercely as he gently put her down on his bed. Kylian scrambled out of his sweater as she unbuttoned her shirt. He helped her out of her skirt and then her tights. 

She rolled over and climbed on top of him, finding him as ready as she was. Lustful brown eyes stared openly at her pale pink underwear. “Do you have?” She asked frantically. 

“Yeah, in the drawer”

She leaned sideways, stretching her body to reach the bedside drawer. She found the box pretty easily and grabbed one from it. He was still staring at her hungrily. With shaking hands, she unhooked her bra and took it off.

He kissed her neck, her breasts, her stomach. Her hands caressed his biceps, his chest, his torso. This was years of desire she’d harbored, finally unleashed. His mouth brushed over her lower torso before his fingers deftly removed the last remaining piece of clothing on her body. She unbuckled his belt buckle and removed his jeans and boxers at the same time. His breathing was shallow and rapid as she ripped the foil open and rolled it on him. She lowered herself onto him slowly, and they both gasped. 

They were chest to chest, their hearts drumming together. They moved together in a steady rhythm, watching each other, checking in on each other with their eyes. Is this okay? How about this? And this?

She wanted him closer, deeper. It was never enough. They breathed into each other's mouths, tongues meeting sloppily. Breaking apart, their foreheads met. Their eyes said a million little things at once. Time and space had no meaning anymore for Y/N. There was only Kylian.

* **************

It turned out that if you’d wanted something badly for a very long time, and then you finally got that thing, it didn’t necessarily mean that you'll have enough of that thing. Sometimes, it could leave you wanting more and more. Case in point: Y/N.

They woke up midday with bodies hot and sweaty and limbs tangled together in the sheets. They had laid there for an hour or so, kissing languidly. He somehow already knew what she liked, the moves that made her moan and gasp. 

“I could do this forever” he’d murmured as his lips softly trailed after hers.  But his alarm rang out just then, a stark reminder of real life. They both sighed reluctantly as they pulled away. He had to get up and get ready for his afternoon training. 

She laid there, silently watching him get dressed. She was mesmerized by every movement of his beautiful, lean yet muscular body. Her own personal Adonis. It was a wonder she’d been able to keep her hands off him. He caught her looking at him and smirked, winking at her. She just rolled her eyes.

Once he’d gotten ready and packed his bag, he came over to her on the bed and showered her face with affectionate kisses. “I’ll come back in the evening. Feel free to just chill here.”  He said between kisses on her forehead, lips, cheeks, chin.  “I’ll leave a spare key by the door though”

She nodded happily, giving him one last tender kiss. He stepped out, and she was left to bask in the lingering warmth of his affection. Her mind replayed the memories of the night before, and she felt like the happiest person alive. Now that she got a taste of him, she wanted more of him. As if on cue, her phone pinged with a text. 

Ky: I miss you already 🙁

She giggled, quickly typing out a I miss you tooo before getting up and hopping in the shower. It was only when she got out that she realized she didn’t have a change of clothes, and unless she wanted to walk into her parents apartment dressed the same way she’d left it yesterday, she needed to put on something else. She walked into Kylian’s closet and  grabbed the nearest T-shirt and sweatpants, as well as some slippers. She quickly snapped a mirror pic after changing and sent it to Kylian, typing heading to my parents for a bit.

The reply was almost instant.

Ky: 😍 😍

Ky: don’t forget to grab stuff you need.

She smiled, loving the implication she’d spend the night again. At her parents, she grabbed Kylian’s gift that she’d forgotten to take with her the night before, as well as a change of clothes. She came back to Kylian’s place and answered work emails and completed other miscellaneous tasks concerning her job.

He was back in the early evening, just as promised. The passion of the night before had faded and the afterglow of the morning had subsided, meaning there was nothing to embolden either of them. Thus, they treaded lightly around each other. Their looks were furtive, their touches tentative. Kylian, the least shy person she’d ever met, had somehow turned uncharacteristically quiet. Yet, they were both undeniably giddy. She could see it in the way he broke into an inexplicable smile whenever he caught her eye during dinner, and in the way she was in the best mood she’d been in for a long time. 

This illusion of coyness evaporated as they settled on the couch after dinner, Kylian turning on a tactical video the PSG staff had instructed him to view. The video was on for less than 2 minutes before their focus shifted entirely and they began to make out. 

“You’re too distracting,” he said between kisses as she giggled. 

“Yeah?”

His lips shifted to her neck. “I think kissing you is my favorite thing to do”

He was biting there, sure to leave a mark. 

“Well second favorite” he corrected himself.

She took off her T-shirt and straddled him. He continued, his hands softly gripping her waist “Second place is kissing you. First place is obviously playing football—”

He was momentarily interrupted as she took his own T-shirt off. “—tied with fucking you”

His shit eating grin was the last thing she saw before he flipped her over and sent her sprawling comfortably on the cushions. 

It was unfortunate that they had a game on new year’s eve, but Y/N liked the ambiance at the Parc des Princes. The stadium was buzzing with a special, festive energy for Kylian’s first match after the World Cup final. She was seated in the VIP section along with his parents, brother, and Tchaga and had jumped up and down when Kylian scored the last minute winner. He’d never say it, but she knew he needed that confidence boost. 

In the past week, she’d gotten to know a completely different part of him –  one her lovesick teenage self could only have dreamed of, and that her more cynical young adult self had never thought she’d experience. 

For example, she’d always known that he loved taking care of his loved ones, but she hadn’t spent a single dime during her stay with him. Any purchases she thought of making, he insisted on paying for. He’d even surprised her with a package containing everything from her wishlist after he saw her browsing her favorite store online. His generosity extended to small things like sharing food (which he was notoriously known for disliking), and thoughtful gestures like arranging a work space for her in one of his spare rooms. He endearingly loved using pet names, alternating  between “bébé” and “chérie”, and her heart did somersaults when she heard him use those in everyday conversation. 

She learned intimate details too, thanks to their newfound physical closeness. The birthmark on his lower back that she loved pressing kisses to. How scratching his head would put him to sleep almost instantly. She learned about his preferences as well; he was most definitely an ass man –  it was evident by the way he never passed up a chance to feel her up when they were by themselves.  Now, she committed everything she learned to memory, seeing Kylian in hues she never thought existed. 

The days after his birthday were perfect to her, it felt like she was living a dream. Lucas and Madrid were so far from her mind that it was as if the break up had happened a year ago. The person she’d been pining after for ages seemingly liked her back. She was at her happiest. 

There was one issue that gnawed at her, however. It bothered her that they had never spoken about what they were, or where their relationship was heading. She’d thought that the fact they had slept together was a mutual admission of serious feelings, that they had an unspoken agreement. Yet, the more she thought about it, the more she realized they hadn’t actually talked about it. The first two days or so, she’d been on cloud 9, swept away by the euphoria of it all. But now, as reality set it, it was torturing her. 

A buzz of excitement filled the VIP lounge as a small crowd gathered around the entrance. She suspected it was Kylian and his entourage; he’d promised to come up to the lounge after the game. Sure enough, in walked Kylian’s bodyguards, followed closely by the man of the match himself. 

He made the rounds first, meeting all the important people in the room, taking pictures and making small talk. He finally made his way to his family and friends. He came to Y/N last, and there was an awkward shuffle when he went in for a peck on the lips as a greeting, and Y/N instinctively aimed for his cheek. They laughed it off, and she gave him the kiss he’d wanted. Ethan let out a loud “ew!”, and Y/N flushed, looking at the ground. So far, none of their family and friends had had visible reactions to the recent developments in their relationship. No one had said anything when they’d shown up holding hands at Kylian's family Christmas party a week ago; it was almost like they expected it, as if they believed this was the natural culmination of Y/N and Kylian’s 10+ years long friendship and not an unexpected turn of events. 

“ I have something for you” she murmured after it was just the two of them speaking, indicating a small gift bag she was holding. 

He raised his eyebrows. “Oooh. What’s in there?”

“It's your birthday gift” She said as she handed it to him. “I was supposed to bring it to dinner but I forgot. I brought it to your apartment the next day but it slipped my mind again”

“And here I was thinking my gift was the mind blowing sex” He said grinning. 

She shoved him playfully, rolling her eyes. As he reached to open the bag, her stomach started fluttering. 

Someone slid up to him just then, whispering in his ear.

“ Give me one second, I’ll be back” he said apologetically as he dropped the bag on the nearest table and was whisked away, no doubt to meet some other important person that was there to see him. 

She sighed, her shoulders slumping. The gift was a scrapbook she’d made herself, chronicling their long friendship. She’d hoped it would help open up the conversation about their current situation.

“Fancy a drink?” 

It was one of the waiters, holding a tray of colorful looking drinks. She graciously took one.

“New here? I’m never seen you in the lounge before”

He seemed polite enough. “Uh, yes. I’m here with…my boyfriend” She tested the word on her lips, her eyes on Kylian across the room.

The waiter followed her gaze and snorted. “He has a girlfriend? I’d sooner believe Macron quit the presidency to be a mime”

He blanched as soon as he realized she was serious. “I- I meant-”

“What?”

He looked at the ground. “He just- I see a different model every other week here. They're almost always his guests”

She opened her mouth, but he beat her to it. “Look, just forget I said anything. It’s not my place.” He looked at her pleadingly. “Please don’t get me fired”

He scurried off before she could say anything. 

She glanced at her gift bag, left forgotten on the table. He was now taking pictures with a group of older people. Her eyes started to well up, and she walked out of the room. She kept going until she found herself outside, ordering an Uber. She sent him a text as she got in the car:

Y/N: going home to deal with some stuff, think I’ll spend the night there

She closed her eyes, tears now sliding down her cheeks.

She barely slept that night, spending hours on her phone looking up the many women Kylian had been linked with. She went through their instagrams, her mind treacherously comparing each one to herself, as if she could measure her worth against their curated, seemingly perfect lives. She came across photos of Kylian on yachts, laughing with bikini-clad blondes. The comments on the photos only twisted the knife deeper – some criticized him as a “playboy” , while others mocked him with a dismissive “typical footballer”.  Each photo was like a dagger to her heart.

But it was the final blow that left her breathless: blurry photos of Kylian leaving a club with a girl, taken just a month ago, in November. It was that recent. It all made sense now,  why he’d never made an effort to have a serious conversation about their relationship. He liked his current lifestyle, focusing completely on football while indulging in a fleeting series of flings from time to time. She was nothing special, just another name on the long list of women he entertained. 

What shattered her the most was that he had no consideration for their friendship, that he could throw it away just like that for some sex. He had traded something she deeply cherished for something else he considered transient, meaningless. 

By the time dawn broke and the first light filtered through her curtains, she was resolute. Dragging herself out of bed, she made her way to the kitchen and was shocked to find her parents sitting and laughing with Kylian. 

His face brightened as soon as he saw her. “Morning chérie” he greeted, the pet name failing to make her stomach flutter this time.

“Dropped by to check on you” he continued. “You weren’t answering my texts”

It was intentional, of course. Seeing the tired look on her face, her parents moved out of the kitchen to give them privacy. She sat down beside him slowly, and his face twisted into concern. 

“Is everything ok?” He went to grab her hand but she snatched it away quickly. She didn’t miss the hurt look on his face.

“I- uh. I’m ok” She didn’t know how to approach the conversation. “Did you finally open my gift?”

"What? Your gi- oh. Yeah. I did”  She could clearly see through the lie.

“Kylian” She warned, her tone sharp.

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking guilty. “I’m sorry, I completely forgot. But it still has to be there though, no one will take it”

“What the fuck, Kylian?” her voice rose, frustration spilling over. “You didn’t even take it home with you?”

He frantically reached for his phone. “I’ll call and get someone at the club to look for it. I’ll get it back, I promise”

She snatched the phone out of his hand, her eyes blazing  “I spent a lot of time on it. I can’t believe you did that, it's like you don’t even care”

He looked at her earnestly. “You know I care, I care about you a lot”

“Is that what you say to every girl you sleep with?” She couldn’t help it.

“What?” He looked at her incredulously. “ No. This is different. You’ve always been different”

“I find that hard to believe, Kylian” She muttered, her voice quivering.

“Why?” He challenged her, his confusion mingled with frustration. “Why would you think that?”

“Because” her tears spilled over “You’ve been uncommitted forever”

“Well maybe that’s because the one person I would’ve liked to be committed to was in another country, wasting her time on some asshole” 

“Then why not now?” She spoke through tears. “I’ve been sleeping in your bed for a while now, Ky.”

“I was trying to give you time” His voice shook. “You broke up with that idiot literally 3 days before we hooked up. I  thought you weren’t ready”

He looked at her pleadingly, his eyes desperate. 

“I don’t know, Kylian” She laughed bitterly. “you said it yourself, don’t trust athletes”

She saw a tear falling down his cheek, and she was struck by the sight. She never thought the second time she’d see him cry, it would be because of her.

She weighed the possibility of making it work – a long distance relationship, with her in Madrid and him in Paris. They’d see each other infrequently, her being tied to Madrid with work and him to Paris by the relentless demands of football. They’d miss birthdays, anniversaries. She’d never be able to take him to an office Christmas party. Maybe she’d be able to go with him to things that mattered to him, like award ceremonies, but only because his career would take precedence over hers. She’d hear whispers about his potential infidelities, but she wouldn’t say anything. Until the resentment feels so suffocating it bubbles up, and she’d have no choice but to end it. It would happen, whether months away or years down the line. And then they’d have to cut each other off forever.  She didn’t want that. She loved him too much. She’d rather have some of him than nothing at all. Perhaps if she ended it now, their friendship could be salvaged. 

She couldn’t meet his eyes. “I’m sorry, Kylian. I don’t think… I don’t think we should do this anymore”

They sat there silently for a few seconds. Then she heard a sniffle, and then the sound of his chair  scraping as he got up. She heard footsteps retreating, and then the sound of the apartment door open and slam shut. Only then did she let herself fall apart.

Her mother hurried into the room, looking very alarmed. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

“Maman” she choked out between sobs. “I need to book a flight back to Madrid”

[wearebarca]

2. Captured // // Alexia Putellas x Original character

Part 1 Part 2

synopsis: Rosalie has never stayed too long at the same place. When the opportunity of a lifetime presents itself critical moment in her life, the photographer decides to once again leave behind what she knows and joins the staff of Europe's best football team.

word count: 5,7K

18 + (eventually)

A/N: Currently procrastinating instead of finishing my thesis on "The methods of repression used during the first Christian Inquisition" Spanish is from google translate so please be nice. French is my first language so all should be good on that part. Enjoy.

As soon as the words left her lips, Rosalie knew that she would be in for a world of teasing from the two women who still stood behind her. She had hoped that even with the few years she had spent playing in France, Lucy had not picked up enough French to understand what she had said, but the burst of giggles that was heard quickly killed all her hopes. The confused look plastered on the Catalonian made the French-Canadian turn an even darker shade of red. 

“ Perdon? I am sorry I do not understand,”

“Oh no I’m sorry, I got my languages mixed up. I’m Rosalie” She extended her hand for the captain to shake. 

“Rosalia? It is nice to meat you, I am Alexia, Welcome to Barcelona ,” Her hand was much bigger than her own, calloused from all her training. The blond never broke eye contact from the smaller brunette who did not dare to look away. 

A cough finally broke the girls from their interaction. Lucy and Keira were still there, but another woman had joined them. “ We hope you enjoy it here,” Alexia let her hand go and made her way back to Mapi, who was looking at her with a raised eyebrow and a cheeky smile hovering on her lips, which earned her a loud smack behind the head. 

“ Hola chica, I’m Sara, one of the coaches, welcome to the team,” she hugged the Canadian like she had known the woman for years, “we just wanted to tell you that if you would like, we could go over your training together! We’d love to help if you need.” The woman’s enthusiasm made it hard for the photographer to refuse which led them to set up a time the following week for a run together. It was indeed a good proposition since her marathon was quickly approaching and a professional opinion on her training routine wouldn’t be a bad thing. 

Soon enough, all the introductions were made and Rosalie was left once again alone with Lucy, who was still giggling about her friend’s encounter with her captain. Seeing as the girl was showing signs of being a little overstimulated, she decided to drag her to the locker room. Once inside, she shoved Keira’s spare boots in her hands and pushed the younger girl back to the pitch. Back at England’s national camp, especially during the last one they spent together, whenever Rosalie felt like the world was spinning too fast around her, Lucy would pull her aside and pass the ball with her. This would always  relax the brunette and help her talk about whatever was on her mind.  

« Are we even allowed to do this” she asked as she kicked the ball right at Lucy’s feet.

“We have twenty minutes before the end of training and I am not going back in there.” She said wincing “ And don’t worry, the staff does this all the time” she kicked it back to Rosalie, the ball flying to her chest, absorbing the shock before falling to her feet.

“Your captain seems intense”

“ oh oui madame elle est très intense.” The younger woman's  eyes rolled so far she would have caught a glimpse of her frontal lobe

“ Got you a little nervous didn’t she”

“ Don’t even start Bronze” While she was distracted, Rosalie stole the ball from Lucy’s feet and sent it to the top right corner of the goal. A few cheers could be heard from the gym where a few players had gathered. 

“Some defender you are” the younger woman said as she started to walk toward the building. She turned around just in time to see Lucy lunge towards her and grab her by the waist to hoist her on her shoulder like a potato sack. 

Lunch arrived soon after and everyone made their exit towards the cafeteria. Rosalie sat at the table with the rest of the media team whom she hadn’t had the chance to meet yet. Everyone was very welcoming, especially Marcello who was one of the marketing guys and Isabella who is the head of social media and the face of barça’s media. Marcello is a very laid back guy with an easy laugh while Isabella was a whirlwind of colours, energy and excitement. The both of them together completed each other and quickly included the Canadian in their conversation, speaking in English and slowed down Spanish for her to understand. 

Even with the cacophony of voices and constant back and forth between tables, at the other side of the room, Alexia seemingly could not take her eyes away from the brunette who’s bright green eyes had not left her mind. A sharp pinch on her arm pulled her from her day dream. “ If you stare harder she might combust, you know.”

Mapi had watched her friend stare for a good ten minutes before feeling bad for the brunette across the room. « You can talk to her you know, you’d like her she seems like a simple girl. »

« Mhm »

« She’s gonna fit well here, have you seen her instagram? She is very talented and obviously very beautiful and… » The blond captain tuned out her friend who she knew was going on one of her rants and didn’t need the blond's participation in this one-sided conversation.  

The truth was that the catalonian did not know how to feel toward the new photographer. She had never been a big fan of the media team. She knew that they were simply doing their jobs but she had always hated this part of professional football. The eyes constantly watching her, her private life exposed for profit, she simply wasn’t comfortable whenever a camera was near. 

She didn’t hate the previous head photographer, but she never bothered to be more than courteous towards her. For some reason, this time, there was something different, she was curious about the canadian. 

The afternoon went fast for Rosalie. An official meeting with the media team, more documents to sign and more hands to shake. The brunette was itching to take her camera and go down to the pitch to start on some training pictures, which she did as soon as she was free to leave management’s office.

 It was now around two in the afternoon and the sun was shining bright on the training pitch. The whole team was out and playing a practice game and the photographer took this as an opportunity to take a few shots. She had heard Spanish football and how different but these girls were definitely on a different level and seeing them in action for the firing time was truly impressive, the woman thought as she watched the ball fly towards the goal, the shot so precise and powerful that Sandra Paños had no chance to block it. 

It did not take long before she was running around the pitch with her camera in hand. Her hair was up in a ponytail and she could feel her baby hairs stick to her forehead. The heat was getting to the photographer who had rolled the sleeves of her t-shirt and was currently cursing her choice of pants. Heat wasn’t her cup of tea. Even after a month here she still wasn’t used to the temperature. She was Canadian after all, the cold was more her element. Even under the unforgiving sun, her eyes were glued to the viewfinder, her mind set on the scenery around her and  the heat wasn’t even an afterthought.  

Rosalie  managed to get a couple decent shots of the girls in action that she ended up showing to Mapi and Patri who kept shouting something about who was the hottest one in Spanish. 

Everytime her eye left the camera, The brunette could feel a piercing gaze stuck on her, the eyes belonging to none other than Barcelona’s captain. Even though she had caught her staring, Alexia’s hazel eyes wouldn’t stray. The French-Canadian would send a shy smile her way which would break her trance, and then the blond would simply go back to the game without acknowledging her even the slightest.. By the third time, Rosalie simply stopped acknowledging her and just focused on her work. If the blond didn’t bother to be polite, then she didn't have to be either.

After an hour outside, she finally decided that she had enough material and headed back to her office. She made a stop at Martina’s office to discuss which pictures would go in today’s post and ended up agreeing to go get coffee tomorrow morning before work. The rest of the afternoon was spent on editing the pictures she had taken and working on some more from the night before. She had had an idea during her little meeting with the media team. A project that would serve as a thank you for the never ending support of the Barça fans and she was really excited. This project would take up a lot of her schedule, but after only a month in Barcelona, she had seen how spirited and dedicated the fans were and she thought it was important for them to know that their club was infinitely thankful for them. 

A knock on the door pulled her from her work and her eyes quickly shifted to the door.

 “ It’s half past five, why are you still here?”

Keira was standing in her doorway, changed and bag in hand, ready to go home after a particularly demanding training day. She half thought that the younger brunette would be gone by now but she wasn’t surprised when she saw her still at her desk, ready glasses low on the bridge of her nose, completely focused on her computer screen. 

“ I just want to finish these for tomorrow, it has to be perfect.” Her eyes strayed back to her computer but she could still hear the other woman walk around her desk and lean over her shoulder. A picture of Alexia standing on the sides lines, arms crossed and face scrunched up in a concentrated expression was currently in the process of being reframed and adjusted. 

“These are good.”

“Thank you,” she scrolled on the lot to show her more, “ Everyone looks so happy, besides..”

“It’s normal, you won’t catch her smiling, especially these days” she said it so casually, Rosalie  felt bad for the woman.

“Pressure?”

“Most likely” she said “ Come on, we’re coming over to your place tonight, you gotta prepare.”

“Says who?”

“ Your big sister, we know you’re far from unpacked. We’re coming to help.” She said, grabbing Rosalie’s bag on her way out. 

“We’re bringing take out” That was all it took to convince the Canadian to put away her laptop and follow the woman out of the training grounds. 

She had not realized just how badly she needed a night like this. The last time she had spent the night goofing around with her best friend was almost a year ago during international break and she had missed her friends dearly ever since. As the brunette had predicted, the couple arrived shortly after her, still in their training kits, claiming that this was as much their apartment as Rosalie’s which meant that they had the right to shower here if they pleased. While Lucy was gone, Keira had set up the kitchen island as a table while Rosalie was busy rummaging through her boxes to find two additional plates and cutlery. 

“ How long have you been here? A month? And you still have this many boxes lying around?”

“What can I say, all I really need is out and the rest could wait… indefinitely.” She ducked fast enough for the placemat to miss her head by an inch.

“ By the end of the night I’m telling you, you’ll be all set and you’ll owe us a round at the pub.”

By the end of the night, they had managed to take care of most of the boxes and made a list of what items were missing for this palace to become a real home. The couple ended up staying late, and would surely regret this at training the next day. It was truly like no time had passed since they had last seen each other. The evening was full of laughs and stories shared but the girls on their respective journeys since they had last been together. Rosalie would not admit it, but she truly needed a night like this. She felt so happy to finally be surrounded by her family, and the prospect of being able to see them a lot more often made this place feel like it could finally be somewhere she considers home. 

The rest of the week was more or less the same. Rosalie started her days by going to get coffee with  Mapi and Ingrid, who quickly became good friends,  or Martina. She loved the woman’s constant smiling and contagious energy and quickly found out that the head of social media was the woman to go see if you wanted to know the latest gossip amongst the Barcelona team and staff members. 

Friday was her last day of the week at the training center and was scheduled to be a very busy day. The morning would be filled with meetings and a presentation for the special fan project she had come up with. Then she had several shoots planned with the girls that would take place in her office. This alone would take the whole afternoon and Rosalie knew that when she would leave for the weekend, she would be exhausted. She knew that she would need all the energy she could get which is why she was currently on her way to the coffee shop with both Ingrid and Mapi by her side. 

Upon entering the shop, the girls beside the photographer both stopped in their tracks and turned towards the counter. A tall blond woman was currently leaning with her back against the counter and her hands in her pockets. The shop was almost empty so the three girls entering made enough noise to pull Alexia out of her thoughts. She recognized easily the voice of the tattooed woman and the Norwegian but, the third voice sent chills down her back and the woman froze, keeping her eyes on the floor, half hoping that the trio would make their way to the register without noticing her. But of course, as if the universe was against her, her name was called by the barista.

“Alexia, chica, cómo estás?” Mapi made her way towards her captain, leaving the photographer and Ingrid at the counter. 

“ Bien, ¿Por qué estás aquí tan temprano?” Usually on fridays, training started a little later, so the blond did not understand why the couple was here so early instead of relaxing at home like they usually did. 

“ Ambos tenemos fisioterapia esta mañana, pensamos que tomaríamos un café con Rosalie antes de nuestras citas.”

“ Ah si, fisoterapia,” Eversince the photographer’s arrival in the small shop, the blond was hyper aware of everything happening around her. The sound, the wiring of the espresso machines, the sound of spoons hitting the rim of the cup, the shuffling of sneakers on the hardwood floors. When a delicate smell of coconut and argan oil came to her, she did not need to turn around to know that the reason for her nervousness was standing next to her.

The photographer was just as nervous as the footballer. All week she had seen the captain’s behavior change every time she would walk in a room or on the pitch. The captain would either avoid the brunette and stare from afar or simply leave the room she was in. At first, she thought it was simply because the woman was shy and needed time to warm up to new people, but that theory quickly fell once she had seen the taller woman interact with journalists and strangers. Now standing so close to the woman,the French-Canadian did not know if she should ignore her or try to engage with the mysterious woman.

Surprisingly, it was Alexia who made the first move. “ I heard you will have a big day today with the annual team shoot.” 

“ Oh oui, it’s going to be a busy one I'm afraid, but I’m excited to work more closely with you all, I never get to see you guys outside of training settings so this should be fun!” She said, clearly excited to get to do a little studio work. The clear happiness on the smaller girl's face made the blond smile slightly. 

“ I do not know if you will still be happy once you have a bunch of children running around in your office.”  

“ Hey! We are not so bad.” Mapi said, hitting her friend on the shoulder.

“I love you darling but yes you are.” Ingrid had her arms crossed and was smiling fondly at her girlfriend who was pouting slightly. 

Silence fell on the group as they watched a mother and her little girl entering the shop. Sensing that the atmosphere was starting to be a little awkward considering no one was going to talk, Ingrid decided to steer the conversation towards something she knew would appeal to everyone. “ Are you guys excited about the match next friday”

The team was playing Sevilla next Friday and this would be Rosalie’s first away game. She had a feeling they would ask her to join the team to see how it usually goes. As the head photographer, she would usually not have to make the trip every single time but shetought it was important that for the few next away games, she would come along and experience the whole ordeal herself. 

“ Sevilla is always entertaining to play. Besides, we will get the whole day after the match to go around the city.” The blond responded. “ You will come with us, I heard.” She added turning slightly towards the brunette.

“ They haven’t told me anything yet but I can only assume that if they told you I was coming then it means I’ll be there.” At that, the blond catalonian let a small smile graze her lips. The sight made the photographer melt a little on the spot. 

« Good, it will be a good game » an awkward silence fell on the  little group.They were all waiting on Alexia to add something but the woman stayed silent, staring down at the smaller girl. From closer, the Canadian realized that in order to look Alexia in the eyes, she had to tilt her head up quite a bit. Combined to her intense gaze, the height difference made the blond Catalonian look even more intimidating which added to the Canadian’s inability to speak at the moment.  Thankfully for both, Alexia’s name was called once again by the barista which allowed the smaller brunette to relax while the captain went to finally pick up her order. She quickly walked back to the small group and handed Rosalie a cup that smells exactly like her favourite coffee. 

«  te veré en el entrenamiento chicas » she said, quickly exiting the shop without sparing another glance towards the confused photographer. 

« What did I do? »

« What do you mean? »

“She must hate me to act so weird when I’m around » She said as she took the coffee that she had ordered herself the counter, Ingrid trailing behind her, carrying her own order and Map’s since the woman had ran out after Alexia. 

« She’s very closed off. It’s always been hard when newcomers arrive in the team. '' She said, while staring down at her feet. “ She did get you a cup of coffee so I don't think that she hates you.” She added. In her mind, it was clear that the Norwegian was keeping something from her just by the way she would not meet the photographer's eyes while talking.

“ Speaking of coffee, how did she know my favorite?” 

“ Martina” 

“ Mais quelle fouineuse celle-là”

“ What?” 

“Oh nothing,” 

When they arrived at the center, the Spanish women were near the entrance, deep in conversation. The rapid spanish rambling was completely lost on the French-Canadian who was starting to think about asking about those intensive lessons management had offered her. She made a mental note to ask later today and decided that she had had enough awkwardness for today and wanted to save the small amount of energy she had left from her first week to focus on the day ahead. She would thank the captain for the coffee when it would be her shoot in the afternoon. 

Just like she had predicted, Rosalie’s day started at a hundred miles an hour with multiple meetings. One of them being an update on the fan project she was currently working on. She also met up with management about the game on wednesday and got the travel details. She would travel with the team and be seated with the girls on the plane and bus so she would be able to capture as much content as she could during the trip. She would be the only member of the photography team to go since the rest was working on a side project that involved the second team and youth club, so for the sleeping arrangements, she would most likely room with a random coach or therapist but nothing was sure yet. Being the only photographer on the trip meant that Rosalie would have twice as much work as usual which put her on edge a little but nonetheless, she was excited at the prospect of her first trip with her new team. 

 The meetings ended up taking up the whole morning and finished only when lunch started. The photographer still had to set up her office for the shootings and had to skip lunch in order to have everything ready for the first group. The day before, when she received the backgrounds management wanted her to use, she had almost laughed in front of them at how cheesy it looked. They were a dark navy blue with red and white stars all around. Someone who did not know Barça’s colour team would have probably thought this was an american themed photoshoot. The brunette had decided to lean into the cheesiness of the backgrounds and picked up some props that would go well with the vision she had in mind. 

The first ones to arrive were Lucy, Keira, Mapi and Ingrid, which eased the Canadian's nerves a little. With the help of the people she knew best in this team, she was able to pinpoint what worked best and test out some poses she had thought of. Alexia had been right. As serious and focused these girls could be on a football pitch, whenever they were out of training settings, they turned into a bunch of children, which made the photographer laugh a lot, and their happiness and childish energy showed in the pictures. 

Most of the girls were easy to work with, not being shy in front of the camera and understanding quickly the directions the brunette was giving them. But some, mostly the younger ones, weren't very familiar with all media related things and had a hard time relaxing. Rosalie prided herself in being able to charm these girls into forgetting they were in front of the camera by distracting them with music and making the shooting as casual as she could. Seeing the girls in smaller groups allowed her to get to know them a little better and when the last group came around, she was confident that these girls had accepted her in the Barcelona family. 

The last group consisted of Irene, Fridolina, Marta, Panos and Alexia. Knowing the girls, this would be the calmer group and she wasn’t mad about it. She was definitely feeling the exhaustion of the day toppling over her and adding to the week’s worth of stress and overall tiredness. The brunette was ever grateful for her extra cup of coffee, which sat, cold and half empty on the corner of her desk. Unfortunately, the photographer would not get the chance to thank the captain just yet because the blond was not in the group that had just entered her studio. 

“ Hola chica,” Sandra exclaimed, hugging the smaller brunette. “ Alexia will be running late, she is with the physiotherapist for her knee. I’ll be just the four of us for now.” The French-Canadian would be lying if she said she wasn’t all the more stressed at the prospect of having to have a solo photoshoot with the woman that rendered her a nervous mess, but she put the thought aside and got to work.

The girls ended up being the one that worked the quickest, being used to this sort of duties, but they were certainly not the ones who looked the most at ease in front of the camera. Irene in particular looked comically angry in certain shots where she was meant to look like she was celebrating a goal. Overall their shoot ended quickly, without Alexia ever showing up. 

“ If you want, I can go see what is taking so long and fetch her for you,” Irene said, lingering in the door of the studio. 

“ Oh no, don’t worry. I don’t want to press her, she can come to me when she’s done, I’ll still be here editing the photos till pretty late.”Answered the brunette who was already settling down at her desk. 

“Alright as you wish. Thank you by the way, you’re really good at what you do, it was fun, for once.” The tall woman said before leaving. The statement put a smile on the brunette’s face before she put on some headphones and dived in the multitudes of shots taken during the afternoon. Whenever she works on editing, Rosalie usually completely loses track of time, being pulled into her own little bubble and forgetting the world around her. She was so focused that she did not even realize it was well past her usual work hours and supper was rolling around the corner. Hunger started to make itself known but the photographer was dead set on at least finishing first three groups before leaving for the weekend. Her shooting with Alexia had completely slipped her mind, which made the brunette even more confused when a polite cough pulled her from her work. 

The Catalonian had been standing in the threshold of the photographer’s office for longer than would admit, but the way her reading glasses were placed low on her nose giving her a little secretary vibe, or the way the small brunette would scrunch up her nose whenever she wasn’t certain about a specific angle or even the smile smile that would stretch across her features whenever she would take in her work were simply too enticing for the blond. The only reason Alexia finally made her presence known was the bag containing the paella from her favorite place. Lucy had texted her that the brunette most likely would have forgotten to eat and the football player decided to get something for the photographer to thank her for her patience.

“Hola Rosalia,” 

“ Alexia, hi!” The brunette said, taking her glasses off and getting up to greet the blond. “ How was the physio?”

“ Good, they said everything was stable,” Alexia had just recently been back on the squad after her knee had relapsed, so she had frequent visits to the physio’s office and was very careful during training and games. 

“I’m glad to hear that,”  As the photographer got closer to the blond, an amazing smell reached her nose and reminded her that her last meal had been breakfast. “ Did you bring food?”

The pure excitement emanating from the smaller woman was enough to break the nervousness that was clawing at the captain who smiled and finally stepped in the room to go put down the bags of food on the small coffee table in front of the couch. She pulled out a plastic container filled to the brim with fresh paella and motionned the woman to come sit next to her. “ I did not know what you liked so I brought you my favourite.” 

The smell alone was enough to make Rosalie drool. She sat down and quickly picked up the plastic fork. The blond was looking at her, seemingly waiting for her to take a bite and tell her what she thought. The face and sound that came out of the photographer at the taste made the blond blush furiously which prompted her to turn around to try to hide her reddening cheeks. On the other hand, the other girl seemed completely unaware of what she had just done and simply kept eating the delicious food. 

“ Are you not eating anything?” The brunette asked after a moment.

“No, no I will eat at home.” The truth is that Alexia had simply forgotten to order anything for herself, too worried about making the photographer wait any further. The brunette got up and reached in one of her drawers and pulled out a fork that she then offered to the blond.

“Here, we can share,”

“ No I got this for you, as a thank you for waiting so long.”

“You already got me coffee this morning, thank you by the way, I would not have survived my day without it.” She said smiling, “ Besides, I won’t be able to finish this on my own and it is too good to waste.”

The blond hesitated a moment and then reached for the second fork. They both ate in silence, too absorbed by the food to say anything. Once the plate was empty and the trash disposed of the girls drifted towards the studio part of the room and Alexia, who previously seemed relaxed enough, seemed to tense at the sight of the set up in front of her. 

Rosalie, after a week of observing the team interaction had quickly realized that Alexia, even if she was a seasoned player that was no stranger to the camera, was still incredibly uncomfortable when she was the target of the lens. Seeing the way the captain went rigid when she reached for her camera, the photographer decided that her traditional distracting methods would not be the best way to go about in this particular case.

“ Would you mind grabbing the speaker for me please?”

“ Si,” While the blond was gone, Rosalie rapidly prepped her camera and left it on the side in order to adjust the lighting so it wouldn’t be as harsh for the eyes and wouldn’t blind the football player. 

“ Here, you can go on Spotify and put on anything you like,” She said, handing the captain her phone. 

“What do you usually listen to?” 

“ Anything really, but I wanna know what you like, surprise me.” This made the blond relax a little as she searched for the songs she had in mind. As the photographer was finishing setting up the equipment, she created a small playlist with her favourite songs at the moment and hit shuffle. The first few notes from “Provenza” started playing and the photographer started to sway a little while trying to select the right lens. “ This is nice, very… Spanish.”

“ Wow, how perceptive of you,” The brunette laughed at the comment and turned towards the blond who was standing awkwardly next to the lights. 

“ Can you tell me why you are so tense?”

“ I don’t like pictures.” The answer was short, delivered hastily, making the photographer almost regret asking in the first place, but she had a plan, and she was determined to get some answers out of the captain. 

“ And what don’t you like about them?”

“It is not the pictures I guess, but the camera,” she said with a certain disgust, “ It’s always looking, it’s like you are never really alone, someone is always watching.” 

“ It must be hard, not being able to go out without people pulling out their phones or cameras to catch a glimpse of you. I am sorry there are people who have so little respect for privacy.” The blond offered the photographer a small apologetic smile and took place in front of the background. 

“ How do you want me,... I, I mean where,... Wait, what should I do,” Rosalie brushed off Alexia’s stammering, thinking it was just the nerves and stepped away from her little station.

“ We’re just talking now, you can relax,” 

“ Si, thank you,” 

“How’s the light, are you blinded at all, can you still see me?” 

“ Si, it’s all ok,” the blond shuffled on her spot, “ Have you visited the city a bit since you moved?” 

The brunette was slightly surprised by the blond’s curiosity but gladly answered, taking this as a sign that Alexia was slowly getting more comfortable with her. 

“ Unfortunately not a lot, no, besides the streets around my apartment and the more touristy places, I haven’t seen much, I haven't even seen the beach yet.” A gasp almost made the woman drop her camera on the floor.

“ This is a crime. How could you not? You have to see the sunset, go take pictures, you'll see it’s beautiful.” The expression on the players face was too cute not to capture and the brunette took advantage of the moment to snap a picture of the awe displayed on the taller woman’s face.

“You’re gonna have to show me the good spots though.”

“Si si, Ingrid knows all of them, I can ask her to bring you..”

“ I didn’t ask Ingrid.” The captain instantly blushed at the comment and smiled big. A clic was heard and Alexia’s featured switch to indignation.

“You are distracting me!”

“ Guilty, I'm afraid, now cross your arms and spread out your stance a little bit for me please.” They stayed silent for a moment, the photographer trying different angles and Alexia holding the position she was currently in, harbouring a serious expression, as if ready to take on a whole team alone. Once the brunette lowered her camera Alexia decided to ask the question that had been on her mind since she had set foot in the studio

“ Why photography?”

[sorrowsofsilence]

Cymbal-ism • Folio

Pairing: Nick Folio x Fem!Reader

Words: 2.2k

Warnings: smut 18+ (unprotected pnv, pls wrap it b4 u tap it; male!recieving, slight degrading, rough!folio) enemies to lovers, arguing/bickering

Prompt: You're the new bad omens drum tech, and Nick Folio sure does get on your nerves. Is he a pain in the ass? Or is it the fact you two have some un-discussed sexual tension? Sent via anon

Author note: its hella late, ive had three margaritas, and this is not proofread lol

THIS IS A FANFIC USING REAL PEOPLE IN A FICTIONAL SITUATION! I AM NOT IMPLYING THAT THIS PERSON WOULD DO THIS IRL OR ACT LIKE THIS! ITS FICTION!

“You’re fucking insufferable,” you muttered under your breath as you brushed passed the short-haired brunette, shoulders knocking against him.

He scoffed, his dark brows narrowing as he hollered after you down the hallway, “Huh? What did you say?”

You glanced his way, flashing him the middle finger with a sarcastic smile while you opened the studio door, before slamming it loudly behind you in frustration.

Nick fucking Folio.

You two got off on the wrong foot the first day you met him two weeks ago. You had bought coffee for the team as a kind gesture, hoping to make a great first impression since you would be with them around Europe for two months.

However, shit hit the fan when you and Folio collided in the hallway as you got off the elevator, spilling the drinks all over him, and immediately giving him a childish vendetta.

To him, if his new drum tech was that clumsy, this tour would be the longest two months of his life. But to you, he was the one who entered the elevator looking down at his phone, not paying attention.

And even though you two barely knew each other, he already made your blood boil.

Perhaps it was the fact he was always trying to nit-pick every little thing you did or the way his attitude was always witty, having a sarcastic retort for everything you said.

It’s also possible it was the way Jolly, your childhood best friend and how you landed the job in the first place, was constantly teasing you about the sexual tension budding between you and Folio.

Or deep down, you thought that maybe it was the way Nick’s annoyingly perfect hair slicked back so effortlessly, or how flawless his ochre eyes were when he glared at you, the deep abyss titillating every time his brows furrowed in your direction.

Everything about him, and to do with him, pissed you off.

But it made you even more mad that you found him extremely attractive, his presence making your heart pound with anger and infatuation.

Nick stormed into the room, kicking the door closed with his foot, “If you’re going to insult me just do it to my face, you coward.”

“Wouldn’t want to hurt your feelings,” you said, kneeling next to the drum kit, loosening bolts on the boom stand.

Folio hovered over you, analyzing your movements as you adjusted the cymbals, taking them down one by one to place them in their cases. There was less than an hour until sound check, and none of the drum gear was moved from the studio room to the stage- thanks to somebody.

Groaning, you stopped to look up at him in annoyance, “I’m glad you think I’m pretty Folio, but maybe you can take your eyes off me and help? Instead of ogling?”

He scoffed, shaking his head as he started sliding the copper off of the loosened bars, “I’m just making sure you’re not fucking up my set.”

“Sure buddy,” you said, standing up and starting to unscrew the kick drum.

The two of you worked in tense silence, the air thick as miffed glances were shared taking apart the kit.

You tried not to watch the way his arms would flex as he twisted the rack tom, tattoos glistening slightly as the room heated.

You averted your eyes for a final time when they met his once again, stacking the cases onto the trolly to wheel it out to the stage.

Folio pushed passed you to grab the handles, ready to cart it down the hall even though it was your job.

“Do you even know where you’re going?” You asked as you trailed way too closely behind him, just to push his buttons. The smell of his faint cologne and slight musk of weed on his tanktop left your heart picking up pace.

“Of course I do,” He mumbled, about to walk past the stage entrance.

“To the left- the left-” you shook your head, staring at him with disdain, as he completely ignored you and continued walking, “Oh my god- Folio! it was left!”

You heard a chuckle behind you as Jolly and Ruffilo walked down the hall, stopping at the backstage door as they watched you humorously.

Rolling your head back you gave them an exasperated look, sighing audibly.

“You two ok?” Jolly smiled, folding his arms.

Shaking your head in frustration you bitterly laughed, “He is the biggest pain in my ass. I’m seriously debating quitting the industry as a whole.”

Ruffilo snickered, glancing at Jolly and then Folio, “He only does that because he thinks you’re cute.”

“Excuse me-” Nick interjected, shaking his head in disagreement, “I’d rather kiss a wall for five hours. At least it would be quiet.”

Shooting them a pointed look you walked passed the boys as they chuckled, letting Folio follow you onto the stage.

It only took about ten minutes to set the kit back up before you sat on the stool, practicing a few solos to test the position.

Nick watched in irritation from the side, but what you didn’t know was under all that show, was an immense amount of admiration. The brunette loved watching you play. He was always impressed with your coordination and keen ear, the ability for you to instantly stop playing and slightly adjust a drum before falling right back into a quick rhythm, breathtaking.

He’d never want to admit how good you are; but he would always be biting back a smile as he watched you test out his kit for him, making sure it was set and tuned to perfection.

You sighed once you finished your adjustments, before tossing Nick the sticks.

“All yours pretty boy.”

“Don’t call me that,” He huffed, before looking at the kit, “Also, your dumb ass forgot the hi-hat.”

Not believing him at first you glanced at the drums before swiftly swearing to yourself.

He was right.

Getting up you pushed past Nick, but he followed you back down to the studio, an annoyed murmuring coming from your mouth. As you entered through the door Folio closed it behind you, locking it.

“Nick seriously what-” You began, but were cut off by the brunette.

“God, do you ever shut that annoying fucking mouth of yours?” He said, standing close to you as he leaned forward, eyes narrowed.

“If it’s so annoying to you, make me,” You scoffed, tilting your head to the side.

The proximity of Nick subconsciously began to make your face warm as you backed up from him, but he was right on your trail.

You hit the soft padded wall of the studio, Folio’s body millimetres from pinning yours against the surface.

The tension grew as you both stared at each other with hatred.

“Fuck, you.” Nick spat, false venom dripping off his words.

Without hesitating you sneered, “You wouldn’t, pussy.”

It took all of two seconds before his auburn eyes flicked to your lips, a greedy hand reaching up and gripping your jaw as his mouth attached to yours.

It didn’t take long before you melted into Nick’s touch, angry at how good his tongue felt swiping against yours, the grip on your face tightening as his other hand reached to grip a fist full of your hair at the back of your head.

Fury, hatred, and lust fueled the fire between you two as your fingers gripped his belt loops, tugging his hips toward you as you began rutting against him.

You wanted nothing more than to claw down his skin, begging to dig your nails across the ivory and ink, embedding your mark. You wanted him to wince in a mix of pain and pleasure as your imprint but decided that grazing your teeth along his lips would have to do.

Nick moaned into you, quite literally ready to tear your shirt off, tempted to rip the cloth from its seam and destroy the fabric; but he withheld himself, aware that the two of you were hallways away from the exit to the tour bus.

The two of you pulled away panting, catching your breath.

“What the hell are we-”

Nick stared into your eyes, attempting to shift his desire into a glare as he leaned down to bite against your neck, nipping and kissing down the skin, “Just shut up, for five minutes. Please.”

A small whimper escaped you as his tongue grazed your collarbone, Folio’s fingers fiddling with the button on your jeans. You shimmed the fabric down your legs, kicking it off as you tugged at his tanktop, pulling it over his head.

His fingers gripped your hips, pulling them toward his own as he rubbed against your underwear, the bulge and stiffened desire evidence of how badly he wanted this. Reaching for the bottom of your shirt you tore it off your torso, exposing your chest.

Folio pushed your hips into the wall as his fingers danced along the hem of the thong you wore, threatening to dip lower to where you wanted him most.

“Please,” You whispered, desperation falling from your tone.

Folio shook his head, almost throwing his head back in humour, “We need to do something about your mouth.”

He pushed your shoulders, beckoning you to the ground before pulling his belt from the clasp. Freeing himself from his jeans, you watched hungrily as he gripped the back of your head, lining up his hardened desire to your lips.

“Open. Now.”

You obeyed, too turned on to fight back his commands. Wrapping around him you began to suck along the skin, closing your eyes as you relished in the feeling of how hard he was, all for this.

You reached up to stroke the base but he gripped your wrist, holding you in place as his hips thrust forward. He took complete control of how fast and how deep he went, using you to his desire.

“Your whore mouth exists for me to fuck,” Nick swore, his other hand holding the base of your neck as if feeling for himself through your skin, “All that backtalk can be shoved right down your pretty throat.”

Moaning at his words you closed your eyes, gagging on Nick’s thrusts as you took your free hand between your thighs, allowing yourself to slide past your panties to trace small circles against the skin.

Your arousal coated your fingers as your hips rutted against your hand, Nick’s fingers leaving your wrist to grip the back of your head. He pushed you down further on him, your eyes watering as he forced you to gag along his cock.

Air dissipated from your lungs, your body shuddering from the lack of oxygen momentarily before Nick pulled you away, causing you to cough.

“Fuck,” he groaned, almost chuckling.

You licked and sucked against him for a moment longer, before he pulled you up, gripping your hips. He kissed you desperately again for a few more minutes as his cock pressed against your thigh, before you pulled away, a hand against his chest.

“Are you going to just kiss me, or fuck me like you said you would?” You pushed, your hand gripping his erection, fingers dancing across his skin.

Nick moaned into your lips again before taking his hand between your thighs, slipping his fingers between your folds as he prepared your body for his, “Don’t make it a challenge, or you won’t be able to walk after.”

The brunette lifted your leg, gripping underneath your thigh as he hoisted it up to his hip, positioning himself against your arousal. It was a matter of seconds before he slid between you, your body taking him eagerly as your head fell back, mouth agape at the sensation.

He filled you fully, satiating the hunger you always had for the drummer as he began to thrust into your core, pounding senselessly. The angle gave him access to where you wanted him most, soft cries heaving from your chest as your brows furrowed.

Frustration dissipated into pleasure as Nick gave you everything, fucking you with complete adoration and need. Your nails gripped his shoulders, digging into the skin with haste as you rested your forehead against his neck.

“I hate how gorgeous I think you are,” Nick mumbled into your ear, soft groans escaping him.

Your laugh turned into a moan as his fingers trailed to stimulate you while he thrust, your body convulsing from the bliss, “I hate your perfect laugh, and how you have a lopsided smile.”

“I hate how talented you are.”

“I hate the way your eyes light up when you’re happy.”

“I hate how you walk with a skip when you’re excited.”

Your eyes lidded as Nick gripped the back of your head, forcing you to watch him as he spit on himself, lubricating your combined story as you pushed into him to meet his hips.

His thrusts began to waver as you clenched around him, the stimulation from his cock and fingers causing your legs to shake. Nick was close himself, trying to push you to the edge first before allowing himself release.

“I h-hate how-” You tried to get out your words as complete bliss took over, but Folio’s lips attached to yours once again, his pace never ceasing through your orgasm. Your walls engulfed him as Nick succumbed to you, his breathing staggered and haste as his chest vibrated in contentment.

His hips jerked into you as he allowed himself relief, taking over your body.

You watched him for a moment before his eyes met yours, lips agape in a pant.

The brunette shook his head as his fingers squeezed the skin along your torso, “We have two minutes till sound check.”

“Of course, you’re making us late,” you frowned.

“Oh shut the fuck up.”

Tags: @sammyjoeee @spicywhenspeaking @cookiesupplier @th4t-em0-k1d @dsireland86 @whenthesummerdies @foliosgirl @thatchickwiththecamera @blackveilomens @xserenax-13

[tiramisuwithmascarpone]

Hello! I'm a 15-year-old devotee of both Lord Hermes and Lady Aphrodite who is raised in an extremely Orthodox Christian household, and I would like to share my story with you ⋆˚ʚɞ

Hi! for safety reasons I will not use the name I usually use online for this account, but you can call me Jellyfish. I live in Eastern Europe, more exactly Romania, a country whose population is 98% devoted to Christianity at the time of speaking. My mother is a perfect example. She wholeheartedly believes in God, I grew up with pictures of him and the Holy Mary all over the walls, which I wouldn't escape even at my grandparent's houses. My house always smelled of myrrh, I would carry a picture of God everywhere I went, I would pray to him before bed, go to church on every holiday, but I never felt fulfilled or connected to him in any way. I didn't truly know what I believed in. My mother was telling me all about how should I praise God, but I don't think I ever did it because I wanted to or felt connected to what she was telling me or felt like it was the life I wanted to live. When she would fight with my father, even now, she would threaten that she would run away to a monastery and become a nun. She thinks you cannot change your religion and you can not be Christian if you were born with Christian parents and raised in that environment. I did not have faith in God because I wanted to and felt connected to his message and wanted to worship his divine being, I did it because my mother felt that way. And that destroyed me.

As I grew older, I started believing less and less in God. I was struggling with going through teenagehood, fighting my own inner battles, and dealing with friendship that slowly felt like they were taking away my lifespan, and it wasn't just that I didn't have faith in a divine being (which is completely alright. Please do not believe this monologue is Anti-Christian, I believe everyone is allowed to believe and worship the one who they feel most connected and inclined towards.) I didn't have faith in anything anymore. When my brother reached 15, he hated my parents for their beliefs. I will not get much I detail since his story is not mine to tell, but he had battled with alcohol and substance abuse. And I was his only shoulder for him and my parents to lean and cry on. My mother told me to pray for our family, she would pray to god every day, light up myrrh, take me to churches, and I would feel miserable. I felt like an imposter in that church. I truly wanted to have faith in a god, anyone, but I felt like my only choice was God since that's what my mother taught me. Both my parents trust God so I cannot be different, can I?

How foolish I was. I can only look back to my past self and wish to embrace and hold her till she cries all her sorrow out. She was so confused.

Back in 2022, I had first heard of Aphrodite. My brother was sent to a mental hospital for his substance abuse when they caught him on the verge of overdosing. I was diagnosed with major depressive disorder after a suicide attempt, autism and ADHD, but my father (who already couldn't accept the fact that my brother has ADHD) fought with them saying they ,,don't know me well enough" and,,there's nothing wrong with me". And he's right, there's nothing wrong with me. Not even If I am neurodivergent. I was at my lowest, I felt disgusting, I fought with my parents and was their therapist every single day, I stopped going to school, I was a mess. But, I was heavily active on social media because I had tons of online friends. While scrolling on tiktok, I found a video of an Aphrodite devotee. My interest was piqued. I heard about Greek Mythology before but never actually researched it. I liked the video and commented, talking about how gorgeous their faith sounds, and that's when it all started. I started getting more info about Aphrodite, the swans swum by me every time I would go to the lake with my family so we could ,,get some fresh air". I started getting lots of pins on Pinterest with her. I always had a desire for water and the beach was my safe place, where I felt fulfilled and free from all I'm feeling. I had a Dove make itself a nest on a tree next to the window of my classroom which I would always sit by while having lunch (on the rare occasions I would drop by to school). I started researching more about Lady Aphrodite, loving her story, beliefs, ways of worshipping, how it felt like silence was washing over me when I would make a non-physical offering to her. Her tales. The way it felt like she was always there to give me a warm hug and squeeze me while I was crying. I also felt a boost in my confidence! I started loving my features, taking care of myself again, etc. It wasn't always just sun and rainbows, I would still have breakdowns and wish it would all just end and all that, but it was more bearable with her. She made my life more bearable. I love, worship, and adore Lady Aphrodite for that. I worshipped her till this year when I officially felt strong enough to devote myself to her.

This year, actually, I started noticing my strong connection to Hermes. I was always attracted to the kind-hearted, mischievous, kind-hearted, highly intelligent and funny thieves. I always idolized them and wished to be like them. That's how I feel about Lord Hermes. I feel like he was reaching out to me all my life. Everything he is associated with I had an inexplicable obsession with for pretty much all my life. Turtles, golden or silver, travel, learning new languages, astronomy, astrology, everything you could think of. I have been devoted to him since last month, that's when I officially started labeling myself as a Hellenic Pagan, but I am still a beginner, and I need to hide all of this from my mother since I am afraid of what she would do if she were to find out I have another belief since she reacted super badly back when I was an atheist :( I set up the first altar for Lady Aphrodite, and the second one for Lord Hermes. I always had been an artistic soul and loved making my room all pretty randomly so I told my mother this is one of those cases and she believed it. She does not know english and is not at all cultured about any beliefs besides Christians, Muslims, and Jews. They are both hidden in my closet. I feel very bad for not being able to make them a bigger and more obvious altar, I hope I'll have that chance when I move out from my parent's house..

I wanted to ask if Lord Hermes would be mad if my mom kept setting random things on his altar? she even put a picture of the Holy Mary. I moved it to the other side of the closet and made a DIY necklace for him out of orange garnet or beads to apologize to him, and he didn't seem mad, but I'm not sure...I sketched drawings of both of them and rested them on their altars. Everything you see are either offerings I heard they may like or things that reminded me of them! the little notebook on Hermes's altar is specifically made for learning new languages and thought he would enjoy it. Do you guys think any of my offerings are disrespectful? or should be removed? I'm open to any advice! Thank you for listening to my story <3

[ellaa-writes]

The Beast Within

author note: Part 1. Part 2 here. I wrote something close to this story on my first blog but I decided to redo it and maybe make it into a series? Anyways Alpha König is back! Alpha König headcanon can be found here. Will help with understanding this König. masterlist

summary: Omegas are rare, in a world full of Alphas and Betas. Being a Omega was not only dangerous but they were highly sought after. After living your life has a Beta in disguise, you meet a scary Alpha, but not any normal alpha. But a gaint Apex Alpha who won't stop at anything to make you his.

tags: 18+ only, slightly dub-con/non-con. Kidnapping vibes, Alpha/Omega dynamics. Female reader Mentions of alcohol and blood. Marking/biting. This is an Alternative Universe (which will be expanded). No smut in this but their will be eventual smut. vague mentions of nudity. Not proof read.

This was dangerous but it was exhilarating. The adrenaline coursing through your body gave you the sweetest high. You were in a packed night club somewhere in central Europe. The special blend of herbs and modern day pharmaceuticals that your best friend Kalina gave to you earlier, helping to mask your true identity. You were an Omega, which is very rare in this day and age. And there had to be at least hundreds of Alphas packed into this dimly lit club, bodies grinding on bodies. The musky smell and loud music filling the air.

Your friends got a private table on the 2nd floor, above the dance floor you were currently looking down on. You should be at home, preparing for you next heat that is only a couple of days away. But you've had a rough week at work, wanting nothing more but to feel the buzzing numbness from the alcohol. Turning back to your friends, one of them sliding a shot glass in your direction. Grabbing it and holding it in that air with the others. Bringing it to your lips and savouring the burning liquid. Joining the rest in slamming the small glass back in the table. One of your friends already trying to flag the bottle girl down for another round of shots. You sink was feeling warm and sticky, the alcohol doing its job. You closed you eyes for a second, enjoying the music and the vibration it sent through your body. But there was something else, something different.

It began creeping up your slow spine, goosebumps forming in its path up to the back of your neck. Where it bit down and stung, your reflexes acting out you touched your neck. Trying to find any indication you were bitten, but there was nothing. That strange feeling was sitting heavy in your stomach, it was either the 3 shots and 2 margheritas you had or the world was about to end. You slowly turned back towards the dance floor, but it wasn't down below. It was sitting across, in another private section. His eyes were burning flames of ember staring into you with such a fierceness that it scared you a bit. Your best friend reached out touching your arm which snapped you out of the trance you were in. Bringing you back to your surroundings. She looked at you with concern "You feeling ok?" she began rubbing her hand up and down your arm. You gave her a smile, nodding you head "Yeah, yes... I'm good. Just getting a little warm that's all." you let her know. A few of your friends began cheering when the server brought over another tray of shots. Making you and her to laugh, joining in and grabbing the glass from the tray before it was lifted away." Hold on, wait up. I just wanted to say, that I love you all so much and let's all hopefully get laid tonight. Alright, good!" Meave said, she was the oldest out of your group. Her gorgeous red hair danced around her shoulders while she did her speech, looking right into your eyes when she mention getting laid. Which made you blush, feeling a little embarrassed that she even said that. But it wouldn't be true to Meave. Her and Kalina are cousins, after meeting Kalina in year 1 you three became inseparable. "Oh don't listen to her babe." another one of your other friends whispered into your ear, making you giggle. You took the shot, setting the glass back down. You all but almost forgot about the stranger staring you down. But another stinging bite at the base of your neck, making you jump and yulp out of shock. Kalina and Maeve looking at you with concern. "I think something bit me" you yelled out, making a few of them laugh. You didn't notice it, when Kalina found the same eyes you saw earlier. The same uneasy feeling washed over her, she knew what he was. She could feel the power radiating off of the Alpha, but he wasn't just any ordinary Alpha. He was an Apex Alpha, she knew you were in danger. Apex Alphas were stronger than a normal Alpha, not just in psychical strength but mentally too. Their senses highented, making them damn nearly a God. At one point in history they were viewed as the closest thing to a demi-God, many believing they were the most special, having the blood and DNA of the gods running through them.

She grabbed you arm quickly standing up and pulling you up with her. Laughing you asked her "What's going on" trying to balance in the heals that Meave borrowed to you. "We need to go, like right now." she began pulling you towards the stairs, ignoring the calls from the others. She lead you down the steps, through the bodies and to the entrance of the club. "Hold up, Kalina. What the hell is going on." you tried pulling back, to slow her down but her grub only got stronger while she dragging through the exit and out onto the street. "Hey Kalina, talk to me." you tried getting in front of her. Trying to get her attention, but Kalina was in flight mode. Searching the street for any sign of taxi, when she found one she marched right over with you still in tow. Banging in the front passenger window, catching the driver off guard. "Are you running?" she asked quickly, the driver bossing his head and unlocking the door. "Hurry, get in. Quickly." she said while opening the back seat door and shoving you in. "Kalina what the fuck is going on." you asked while she closed the door. Reaching for the window down button. "Please get home and lock up immediately. I'll tell you later." she told you. She then went back to the front window and gave the driver your address before he quickly pulled away from the street and towards the direction of your small apartment.

You sat in the back seat, confused and starting to feel sick. The alcohol turning into bricks in your stomach.

Kalina watched has the taxi drove away, praying you'd get home safe and listen to her and lock up. Hoping that the Alpha would lose your sent. She turned back towards the club, noticing the Alpha storming out. His nose high in the air, sniffing you out. His eyes snapped towards her, her own fear taking over. She should have gotten in the car with you, but now she's in the path between a angry honey alpha and sweet omega pussy. She always pittied you, when you were young and coming into puberty. She could smell the changes happening to you, they were different than hers. She was a simple beta, but you became an omega. She knew the rarity of it, she also knew the risk of began one. Many of the omega being snatched up, nothing more than breeding machines to produce more alphas, female or male. She began helping you mask your smell at a young age and disguising yourself as a beta.

Sticking her head up high and ignoring the heated look he was giving her. She began to make her way back inside, but not before being pulled to the side by a pair of very thick solid fingers. The alpha had her corned, looking down at her. His nostrils flaring with anger, his chest rising and falling. He was trying to control himself, trying to push the animal that was inside him down. "Where is she." he said in between breaths. Kalina yanked her arm back "None of your business, now will you please excuse me." she began to move past the alpha but he grabbed her again. "Get off me." she yelled. Causing the bouncer and a few others to look in their direction. "You can't hide her forever." he called out to Kalina as she disappeared back inside. She hoped he was wrong.

You made your way inside you one bedroom apartment. Closing the door and locking in behind you. Your feet were sore and your head felt heavy. Walking into your kitchen to grab and glass of water. Standing in the dark, debating if you should wash your face or deal with the consequences in the morning. Refilling the glass you slowly walked to your small bathroom, turning the light on which made you wince. Pulling your hair back and using your expensive cleanser, one of the few things you splurge on. You found yourself kicking off the heals and peeling the tight dress you hand on off and falling into your bed. Only wearing the silky panties you had on, pulling the blankets down and over your body. Sleep found you quickly, drifting off into dreamland.

You woke a few hours later to what sounded like banging. You sat up in your bed, the blanket having fallen to your hips. Your tits out in the open, the air was cold causing your nipples to perk up. Listening in the dark for anymore noises and not hearing anything else you laid back down. Snuggling into your pillow, ready to fall back to sleep. But you heard your bedroom door slowly creak open. Your eyes snapped open, every hair on your body standing straight up. The same stinging from earlier made its way to the base of your neck again.

You instinctively reached out to your phone, but before you could full grab it. It was thrown across the room and you were flipped over on your back. The blanket that was covering your chest now on the floor. Thick hard fingers found themselves around your throat. The same burning ember eyes from the club were looking down at you. You didn't get a good look at him before, but you could see him clearly now. He was massive, not only in size but also in height. His head had to be nearly touching the ceiling. He was looking at with with such intense lust, the corners of his mouth turning up into a smirk. "I found you." was all he said before he removed his hand from your throat and brought his mouth to replace it. You could feel his hot breath fanning out over you jaw and down your chest. He pushed his nose into the vein that ran down the side, lightly licking its trail down to your crease were you neck net your shoulders. He paused a bit before he opened his jaw and bit down hard. Causing you to screaming and thrash, trying to push this gaint off of you. The trance you were in breaking and the panic and fear consuming you. Your screams got louder before his hand found its place over your mouth. "Shhh, darling. It's ok, I found you. Your safe now." he whispered into the side of your temple. Having released your neck, you could feel the blood drip down your back and onto the sheets below you. You began feeling dizzy, your vision getting blurry. He was still cooing into your temple, lightly kissing it and brushing his free hand over your hair. Trying to easy your fear and pain. You were stronger than he thought, fighting his trance once again. Once he felt you go limp in his arms, he let you go. Moving towards your closet, pulling out a shirt to cover you up with. He needed to cover you up, he knew if he didn't he would lose control. The beast in him still snarling and growling to get out.

[marianadecarlos]

The Birth of Charles II of Spain Fanart

Warning: This story contains some artistic license

The Queen's pregnancy was approaching its end and had become a matter of utmost importance. The future of the Monarchy depended on this event. On Sunday, November 6, everything seemed to be ready. The doctors and physicians were on alert; the Queen's confessor was near her, and the Chief Steward of her Household was carefully reviewing the arrangement of the items in the birth chamber. To guarantee the success of the event, all the holy relics that were in the Palace and others brought from El Escorial and other places had been arranged in order. There was the staff of Saint Dominic of Silos that the Order of Saint Dominic had brought, the ribbon of Saint John Ortega, from the Order of the Hieronymites; the incorrupt bodies of Saint Isidore and Saint Diego de Alcalá; the image of the Virgin of Solitude and the one so venerated by the royal family, Our Lady of Atocha. It is not easy to find a space so holy and sacred. Everything, then, was ready, the things of the earth arranged to implore God's pleasure. At noon, after a frugal lunch, Philip IV retired to his chambers. At the same time, While eating, Queen Mariana suddenly felt intense pain in her abdomen, realizing that she was about to give birth. She quickly left the table and hurried to the Tower Chamber.

King Philip went straight to his study while looking at Prospero’s portraits. He entered his study, sat down, and began to write to answer the last letter of Sor Maria de Agreda. He wrote with a deep sigh and tears in his eyes.

“ With the long illness of my son, and the continuous help I was giving in his room, I have not answered your letter of the last month...I assure you that what has most exhausted me, more than this loss, is to see clearly that I have vexed God and he sent this punishment to castigate my sins...

(The king reminisces his cherished memories with Felipe Prospero while writing this letter)

Help me as a friend with your prayers to placate God’s just anger and beg Our Lord that, as he took my son from me, He may make his light shine on the Queen, whose confinement we await hourly, and give her good health and guard what is to be born, if his will, for otherwise I do not wish it...

Back in the Tower Chamber, Queen Mariana cries in agony as she is delivering her baby. The royal midwife Ines Ayala told Queen Mariana to push harder. Five other doctors were present at this event in case of emergency. One of those doctors was Dr Bravo. While the Queen was giving birth, the courtiers and Infanta Margarita looked on. 

Ah, Sor Maria, If I had succeeded in following your teachings, perhaps I would not have found myself thus. Pray to our Lord that he may open his eyes, that I may perform his holy will in all things... There is nothing new in the English situation. I, thank God am in good health...

At this point, King Philip was interrupted by a courtier who delivered the news and told the events occurring in the Tower Chamber. King Philip was anxious about the future that lay within a few hours. He prayed heavily to God, asking him to deliver him a son. All could imagine the impatience of the Royal Court of Madrid and Europe, waiting for an outcome of this event. As hours passed, Queen Mariana was still in labor, and the doctors argued over natural forms of treatment. They were anxious as the Queen and the child’s life was at stake. 

Dr. Bravo proposed a theory: In the past, Queen Mariana had difficult experiences giving birth to her children. At the birth of Maria Ambrosia, Felipe Prospero, and Fernando Tomas, The Queen had terrible epileptic seizures, and the infants died or lived for a short time. On the other hand, at the birth of Infanta Margarita, the only child to survive, The Queen had been perfectly well. Now why was this? The reason is simple: Just before Infanta Margarita was born, Queen Mariana had suffered several violent nosebleeds. Therefore, what she requires now is to be bled. 

Some doctors disagreed, warning that the proposed action could endanger the Queen and her child. Concerned, Queen Mariana asked the doctors if there were any alternative procedures. The doctors offered different opinions, while Dr. Bravo defended his proposal. As the debate continued, Mariana went into labor with the assistance of Ines Ayala. The infant cries and is alive. The birth of the infant brought joy to all. King Philip became a father once again. When the courtier informed King Philip of the birth, he was overjoyed and immediately visited the tower chamber to see his newborn son. King Philip joyfully held his son and proudly showed him to the Queen and his daughter. When the courtier informed King Philip of the birth, he was delighted and immediately visited the tower chamber to see his newborn son. King Philip joyfully held his newborn son and showed him to the Queen and his daughter. 

Sources:

Carlos, A king who would not die by John Langdon Davis

Happy Birthday, Charles II of Spain!

[jpmarvel90]

Guilt

Masterlist Natasha Masterlist

Relationship: Natasha x Reader

Summary: Natasha finally finds her sister Yelena. Only to discover she has a friend that escaped the Red Room with her. Distrust causes issues between the trio and leads to a break up of friendships.

Word Count: 8306

Y/n's POV:

Yelena and I were on the run for almost two years before her sister Natasha Romanoff found us. We had managed to escape the Red Room together and had been on the run ever since. Yelena had become like a sister to me. She's a year older than me but we've always looked out for each other. Our last few months in the Red Room were horrible and we went through things that no one ever should have to.

Once we escaped, we had a freedom neither of us thought we'd ever have. Even if we did have to move on every few months, we lived life to it's fullest. We moved across Europe, working any job that we could and always finding some shitty one bed apartment that we could live in. The aim was to save up as much money as we could to get to the US. Yelena was sure that was where her sister Natasha was, and I wanted to make sure she got reunited with her family. In the Red Room, they take everything away from you. Knowing that she was able to keep a hold of her sister, meant a lot to Yelena. She deserved to be happy.

I didn't know Natasha really, other than the rumours I heard whilst I was in the red room. As I was 7 years younger than her, I didn't have much to do with her. She seemed familiar but I put it down to the fact that we had training sessions with the older age groups at times and we probably met then at some point.

After she escaped, Yelena was moved to our section. She was punished for Natasha escaping and I helped to clean her wounds. It's how we became friends and over time, why I started to see her as my sister.

The moment that Natasha broke into our apartment in Budapest is something I'll never forget. I had just come back from the shop to find the two of them strangling each other with a curtain. When they called a truce, it was like none of that had ever happened. Natasha was quick to pull Yelena into a tight hug and apologise for leaving her in Red Room and not going back for her.

When she became aware of my presence, Natasha was quick to point a gun to my head. "No! No! Natasha, that's Y/n. Put the gun down!" Yelena shouted, stepping in front of her sister, and pushing her away. "Who's Y/n?" Natasha asks with a bite to her tone. "She was in the Red Room with me. She helped me escape. She can be trusted Natasha." Yelena tries to convince her. She looks me up and down before dropping the gun. "You look familiar." She grunts as she slips her weapon into the back of her jeans. "She was J block. It's where I was moved to when you left." Yelena explains for me.

"Hmm. I think I worked with them a few times." She thought out loud. She's probably right. They often sent the older kids in to practice their technique on us. I had even seen some of my friends killed by them. I was even almost killed in one training session. They were completely brain washed by Dreykov and his men to do horrible things.

After the reunion in Budapest, Natasha offered Yelena a place within Shield, and with that a place to stay with her at the compound where her and her team lived. Yelena only agreed to go if I was allowed to go with them. Natasha reluctantly agreed and before we knew it, we were on a jet flying to New York.

The whole way there, Yelena and I held hands, excited that we were finally safe, no longer having to stay on the run to keep alive. Maybe we'd even get the chance to take down the red room once and for all. For the whole flight, however, I could feel Natasha's harsh gaze on me. It made me feel a little uncomfortable, but I tried to ignore it. Maybe she was just slightly jealous that I had such a close relationship with Yelena.

Over the next few months, my relationship with Natasha did not improve. In fact, I'm sure it got worse, no matter how hard I tried. She just didn't seem to trust me. And because she didn't trust me, the rest of the team were reluctant to do so either. Initially, Yelena tried to get us to all get along. But I could see that she felt like she was in the middle. So, I encouraged her to spend more time with Natasha. She had been desperately trying to get back to her for years, it's only right that they have time together. I'd be ok.

Over time though, Yelena started to spend less and less time with me. At times she would barely talk to me, it was almost like I was a chore for her. The tag along that was only there to help her escape. Now she has her sister and new family, I'm not needed anymore. I've tried really hard to make friends with the others on the team, but it doesn't seem to be going very well. Especially with Steve, he's always harder on me than the others and I can see he has a hatred for me in his eyes.

I considered leaving, but after talking with Agent Hill and Directory Fury, I found a purpose to stay. I could help to take down the red room. They both trusted me, and I appreciated that. I worked with them a lot on a number of missions to get the intel that we would need to finally put an end of other girls ending up like Yelena, Natasha and me.

Having that purpose didn't make it any easier back at the compound. I still was required to go on missions with the Avengers, but that was the only time any of them would really talk to me now. Even Yelena. It really started to hurt. I thought I meant more to her, but clearly not. I don't know why I ever thought that I would fit in anywhere. I spent my childhood locked away and with no family to help me find my way, I was always going to be an outcast.

After a particularly bad mission, I was on the receiving end of a barrage of abuse from Steve and Sam. I hadn't done anything wrong, but they were looking for someone to blame and that landed solely on me. The whole journey back on the quinjet was torture as they took it in turns yelling at me. I didn't have anything to say in response, I know I would only make things worse. But what really hurt was the way that Yelena didn't say a word to even try to stand up for me. Especially when the next attack that came out of Steve's mouth. "I wouldn't be surprised if you were a double agent really working for Hydra and Dreykov. All these solo missions you do. Are you really reporting back to the enemy?" He spits at me. I open my mouth to defend myself, but he quickly holds his hand up to me. "You don't talk!" He hisses.

He takes a deep breath before turning to me once again. "You're just a trained murderer who will never be able to make up for the red in her ledger. You're not worthy of the place you have been afforded here." I have to choke back the sob that fights to get out. My glossed over eyes look to Yelena who instantly looks away. I'm the same as her, the same as Natasha, yet none of them can give me the benefit of the doubt.

Thankfully, the quinjet lands at his last sentence and I'm the first off, the jet. I rush to my room and start to pack my bags instantly. I can't stay here anymore. I don't feel safe. I know that I don't have the teams support and I'm only a danger to them and myself.

I don't own a lot, so it doesn't take me long until I'm packed up. A miserable depiction of my life. I wait until I know everyone will be having dinner and I'll be able to slip out with no issues. Leaving probably will make them think I'm working for the enemy even more, but I won't stay here any longer.

When I'm ready to leave, I reach up and take off the necklace that has hung around my neck for the last two and a half years. It's a spider charm. Yelena brought us each one with her first pay cheque. It was meant to represent our relationship as sisters. Now it just symbolises everything that I've lost. I place it on top of the chest of draws in my room then I grab my small duffle bag and make my way out. As I sneak past the kitchen, I hear them all laughing together. A family that I'll never be a part of.

When I leave the compound, I make my way to Shield headquarters. Luckily, Fury is still there, and I explain everything that has happened. I practically beg him to let me leave and go as far away from here as possible. He offers me the chance to be free, away from Shield and far away from the Avengers, if I carry out one last mission with Agent Hill. I instantly agree when he gives me the details. If I can do one final good thing to help defeat the red room, then I'll take it. It feels like the only thing that I have left to give to this world.

Nat's POV:

Watching the way Steve and Sam tore strips off Y/n on the way back home was hard to see. It wasn't her fault that we failed that mission. But she was the chosen target for their anger. I could see Y/n getting smaller and smaller with each insult that was flung her way.

But I'm sure I saw the moment her heart actually broke. You'd think it was the moment Steve called her a murder, not worthy of her place. That did damage, of course it did, but the moment her heart broke was when she looked to Yelena for any kind of support, only for her to look away. That was the moment I saw the tiniest bit of light left in Y/n's eyes disappear. I should have said something. I should have stood up for her. If that is how Steve sees Y/n, then that is what he should think of me and Yelena, and I know for a fact he doesn't.

I feel immense guilt as I watch Y/n rush off the jet. I've not made her life easy since she's been here. But it's been misguided. I remember Y/n. Of course I do. She was my target to kill. I had been put against her in a fight to the death. But she was strong. She fought well. I beat her to an inch of her life at the orders of Dreykov, only to be stopped from choking her to death at the last moment. He had deemed her worthy of living for the fight she had put up.

I still remember the fear in her eyes as she thought I was about to take her life away. I knew who she was as soon as she walked into the apartment in Budapest. But I didn't know how to be around her, so I didn't try. The benefit of being the Black Widow, is being able to hide how I really feel. What I didn't realise was how much that would affect the team's thoughts on her.

They believed that I didn't trust her so decided they didn't either. I mean, it's good to know that the team support me like that. But it must have been hell for Y/n. She would try so hard to fit in but was met by cold shoulders from everyone. Even Wanda and she will make an effort with everyone. It made my guilt grow even more, but instead of putting a stop to it, I just started to remove myself from the situation. I would hang out with Yelena as much as I could because she was the one person that could make the guilt disappear for a split second. Y/n represents every bad thing I did in the red room, and I let her suffer for it.

But I know now that I need to fix this. I would observe Y/n and I truly believe she is one of a kind. She has such a kind soul for someone who has been through so much hell. Things were bad when I was in the red room, but they only got worse after I left. Yelena had told me some stories and they always ended with Y/n being there for her. I'm glad that she had someone like her during such a horrible time in her life.

I would find myself craving to get to know Y/n more, knowing that my life would only be brighter to have her in it. But I didn't deserve that, so I shut off any thoughts of that. I could not and would not think of her more than a work colleague. I wish I didn't because I don't think I'll be able to make up for everything that has happened over the past six months since the two of them came home with me.

After we got off the jet, I went straight to Yelena's room. She slammed her bag on to the floor as soon as she got there. "What gives Steve the right to talk to Y/n like that. She didn't do anything." She says angrily, pacing around her room. "She was brain washed. We all were. She was always the best of us, the one who kept the small amount of hope that we would all be ok. He has no right to talk to her like that." She shouts as she drops onto her bed.

I take a seat next to her as she breaths heavily. "We should go and talk to her and make sure she's ok." I suggest, earning a nod from Yelena. When we leave her room, we're greeted by Steve. "Tony ordered Pizza, come join us." He says with a smile. "We'll just go and get Y/n and see you there." I say but he stops me. "She's not welcome. The team don't want her there. Now join us." He says sternly. I just look at him in disbelief.

I'm sure I see smoke coming off of Yelena's head as Steve walks away. "That asshole." She mumbles, clenching her fists in anger. I place a hand on her shoulder. "Let's take a moment and then go to her." I suggest but she snaps her head to me. "Why do you suddenly care?" She snaps, but I don't blame her. My gaze drops to the floor before I decide that now's the time tell her the truth. I guide her back into her room and sit her on the bed. I take a deep breath and explain everything that happened in the red room. How I almost killed Y/n and let the guilt affect how I treated her once she was here.

Yelena sat there in shock after I finished admitting the truth. "She never would have blamed you for that. In fact, one of her best friends in there was someone who shot her. We had to do as we were ordered or we got killed or punished, she never held that against anyone." Yelena tells me, which just makes my guilt grow even more, if that's even possible!

"We need to make things up to her and try and get the team to see she's not a threat. I can't believe that I've let this happen." Yelena sighs, and I can feel the pain radiating off her. "Come on then, let's not waste any more time." I tell her, holding my hand out to her. She gives me a smile and takes it. When we reach her door Yelena knocks but gets no answer. She knocks again. "Y/n/n, it's me. Can I come in?" She asks but is met with silence.

"Friday, is Y/n in there?" I ask the AI before we go barging in. "No Agent Romanoff. Y/n left the compound with her belongings 20 minutes ago." The AI responds. Not wanting to believe what she just heard, Yelena opens the door and calls out for Y/n again. "Please Y/n. We're here to apologise." I can hear the desperation in her voice as she goes into the bathroom and opens the wardrobe to see them empty.

Tears start to fill her eyes and then they land on something on the top of the chest of draws. And this here is the moment I see my sister's own heart break. Her hand shakes as she reaches out to pick up the necklace that is waiting for her. "We vowed to never take these off. They were to show that we were always with the other regardless of where we were. What have I done?" She whispers that last bit as she slides down the wall to the floor. I sit next to her and wrap an arm around her as I fight tears of my own, knowing that I'll never be able to fix this for either Y/n or my sister.

"Director Fury has asked for your presence in the meeting room." Friday informs us. I look to Yelena and we both take a moment to compose ourselves before heading out to meet Fury. The rest of the team are already waiting in there as we take our seats. "Who the fuck wants to explain why my best agent has just handed in her resignation." He yells, hitting his hand down on the table. It makes me jump to see his anger.

"None of us have done anything to Agent Hill." Steve defends but Fury's head snaps to him. "Not Hill. Y/l/n." He says with a fire in his eyes. Steve scoffs at his words. "She got what was coming to her. She's clearly been working with Hydra. How else do you explain all these 'solo' missions she's been doing?" He argues, a venom lacing his voice. Fury lets out a small chuckle and we instantly know that's not a good sign.

"Those solo missions were at my request." He states and the air in the room seems to disappear. It's like everyone has realised what has happened. "B-but Romanoff doesn't trust her." Steve tries to defend. Everyone's eyes fall to me. "I've never said that. I had my own problems that had nothing to do with Y/n but my inability to deal with my past." I admit, but I know some of the blame falls to me as well.

"What even were these missions?" Steve questions Fury, again a bad move. "Know your place, Rogers. I don't think you realise the asset we've just lost." Another scoff comes from Steve. "She's not an asset to anyone." Fury slams his hand down on the table once more which startles us all. "Watch what the next words are to come out of your mouth." He growls and Steve instantly shrinks into his seat. "Y/n was helping me to collect information on the red room. As one of the last known people to escape, her knowledge was invaluable to us. It's because of her, we're the closest we've ever been to taking them out." Silence fills the room as Fury explains what Y/n has been doing before Yelena speaks up.

"But I escaped with her. Why did you ask me to help?" She asks, as Fury gives her a pitying look. "Y/n didn't want you to have to relive what happened to you in there or risk losing your family. She was protecting you." Fury explained. Yelena's mouth opens and closes but nothing comes out as she realises what Y/n has done for her. For us.

Fury turns his attention back to the rest of the team. "She thought if she could bring down the red room, that she could prove to you all that she was trustworthy and earn her place here. Maybe even gain a family. But instead, she's left here believe she is and has nothing. So much for earth's mightiest heroes. You can't even be there for your teammate." And with that Fury left the briefing room, leaving us all shellshocked at his revelations.

I can hear quiet sobs coming from Yelena as I try to fight the sick feeling in my stomach knowing she's out there alone feeling like she never meant anything to us. To me. "She's always put me first. Always protected me. She was my sister but as soon as I came here, I tossed her aside, too scared of losing you. I've let her down. I couldn't even stand up for her against Steve." I go to wrap my arm around her, but she shrugs me off. "Don't. I'm so ashamed of myself, of us. How we have treated her. All she has ever wanted is a family. To feel like she belonged somewhere. But I bought her here just for her to feel like she's a monster." She cries before storming out of the room.

The rest of the team are in shock. I decide to share with them what I did with Yelena. They deserve to know the whole truth. If we're able to bring Y/n back, she deserves this team at their best. They are an amazing family. I just wish I hadn't allowed this to happen.

Steve instantly feels guilty after I explain. "I should never have said what I did to her. I misplaced my anger. I just assumed the worse. I'm sorry Nat. You came from the same place as she did. What I said wasn't only disrespectful to her, but you as well." He apologises. I can see the sincerity in his face. "It's not me that deserves an apology. I've let Y/n down more than anyone here. She is a good person, and we would have been lucky to have her in our lives. I just hope that we can repair this." Knowing there is nothing more I can do. I get up to leave to find Yelena.

As I'm walking past Y/n's room, I hear crying. I open the door and I'm greeted by Yelena hugging her pillow close to her. I slowly get into the bed behind her. I wrap my arms around her and let her cry and express what she needs to. "I let her down Nat. I should have been there for her, but I wasn't. How can I ever call myself a sister to her after I just left her like I did? She deserves better." She laments, the pain evident in her voice.

"She's not safe Nat. They'll know it was her that has been doing these missions. They'll be going after her and if they get her, they'll kill her and it'll be my fault." She turns in my hold and sobs into my chest. I'm crying myself knowing that she's right. I've never seen Yelena like this. She's completely broken. I need to fix this for both of them. I can't see Yelena like this, and I just want to have a second chance with Y/n.

When we finally have pulled ourselves together, we get up and start our search to find her. Tony lets us use anything he has to try and find her, but it's no use. For weeks we try to look for her, but we get nothing. Not even a hint of where she could be. I pray it's because she is good enough to go off the grid like this. But in my stomach, I have this gnawing feeling that she's been captured and killed. It's the more likely answer, but I don't dare say it allowed. She has to be ok. She has to be alive.

Three years later

"I've got something!" Tony comes running into the dining room one evening with the biggest grin on his face. "I don't think we want to know what you've got." Sam jokes, causing us all to laugh. "Funny. But no. I've got a hit on the facial recognition for Y/n." Silence falls over us all at his words. "She's in Pennsylvania." He informs us. I feel Yelena's hand grip my thigh at his words.

We never gave up. These last three years, we have all still been looking for her. Determine to find her. The team have been helping us and we take it in turns to trawl CCTV and all of the databases that we can for any hint that's alive and well. So to hear that we finally have something, a possibility of seeing her again after these last few years is such a great feeling.

"What are we waiting for we should go!" Steve jumps up and orders us. It really affected him after we all found out the truth. He spent weeks reading over Y/n's solo mission reports. What she did was incredible and how she hid some of her injuries I'll never know. But I guess when no one gives you the time of day, it's easy enough to do. "I don't think we should all go in guns blazing. Besides we don't know what state she is in." Tony rebuts which causes Steve to reluctantly agree.

"Yelena and I will go. We'll assess the situation and hopefully bring her home safe. If we need it, we'll call in for backup." I say authoritatively. They all eagerly agree before Yelena, and I head off to grab what we need. We pack a bag as we don't know what we're going into. We need to do this carefully. If she's been taken by the red room, we can't screw this up.

Tony has arranged everything for us, including staying in a hotel in the small town she's been located in. Whilst on the quinjet there, I'm doing additional research to see if we have any intel of there being a Hydra or red room base there. After Y/n left, it became harder for us to find any information on the red room. Yelena and I went on missions in place of her, but we didn't get the same results. The red room is still active, but we are so close to ending it. I just hope it hasn't come at too high a cost.

We arrive in a town called Ligonier, a very traditional US town. We land the jet away from any people and make our way to the town centre and our hotel. Once we've checked in, we set up all our tech so we have communications back home with the compound, as well as the software for facial recognition. I can tell that Yelena just wants to go out and search the whole town for her, but we need to be sensible.

So, we spend that evening gathering as much info as we can, Tony being a great help to us from back home. "The facial recognition I got was from a coffee shop on the main street of the town. It's probably a good place to start. Interestingly, there are either no cameras there, or the ones that are don't work. Almost like someone doesn't want to be found." He starts to explain. "Where did you get her then?" I question as I find the location of the coffee shop. A camera from the town hall across the way. It picks her briefly in the back of the frame." He explains.

After coming up with a plan of action, we head to bed but neither of us can sleep. "I'm excited to see her again." Yelena says from her bed next to me. "But I'm also worried that she's not safe or won't want to see us." She adds on and I can hear the pain in her voice. Y/n leaving affected Yelena a lot. She has carried around a guilt that she wasn't there for her and let her be treated like she was. I've lost count of the times I'd find her in Y/n's room crying, terrified that she was dead, and it was all her fault. Truth is, it would all be mine.

"The main thing is that she's safe. We can work on forgiveness after that." I say and Yelena hums in agreement. "You know. I always thought you liked her at first. It's why I tried to get you to allow her to join us so much. But then over time I just realised you didn't like her at all, and I chose you over her. If only I had known, I could have made things right between you." She chuckles lowly whilst my eyes widen.

I feel Yelena's eyes on me when I don't respond. "Oh my God! You do like her!" She squeals, turning so she's facing me. "Shut up. I don't." I weakly defend. "HA! See it's so clear! You like Y/n!" She teases me whilst I huff, knowing that I'm not going to hide it from her. "Are you mad?" I ask timidly which seems to shock Yelena. "Not that you like her. You both deserve to be happy. Maybe a little mad that if you hadn't put your head in the sand, we wouldn't have been in this position of trying to find her after her disappearance three years ago!" She lightly scolds.

"I always thought whoever would end up with Y/n would be one of the luckiest people in the world. Maybe that could be you." She adds on which causes a smile to form on my face. But I quickly shake my head knowing that we have to find her and earn her forgiveness first.

We eventually fall asleep and wake up refreshed, ready to bring Y/n home. We're up early and head to the coffee shop that she was spotted in. We order our drinks and sit out of the way, but still with a good view of the whole shop. After about an hour, Y/n rushes in through the door apologising. "I'm so sorry Jill. Mia did not want to leave this morning. I'll make up for it." She rambles as she grabs an apron from behind the counter. "Don't worry about it Y/n. It's not busy. Take a breath." This Jill reassures her.

We stay for another hour and make the decision to leave, not wanting her to spot us just yet. Instead, we stay locally, to get an idea of when her shift ends. We go back the next few days and just seeing her so carefree makes me happy. "She looks good. I love the blonde hair." Yelena states as we get into bed that evening. "I thought she had been captured, but to see her alive and well is good." I reply. Knowing that she's safe is such a relief.

The next day, we go to the coffee shop for the end of her shift. We decided that we'll try and talk to her today. We're both really nervous, but I'm hopeful that we might be able to start on the road to fixing this. Whilst sat at our same table, I watch almost mesmerised as Y/n floats around the coffee shop. She knows a lot of the people here and they seem to enjoy her being around. "She looks happy." I observe and Yelena nods.

Just as the clock is about to hit three, we're both startled by the door to the shop slamming open and a little girl running in. "Mama!" She shouts as she sprints through the shop. I smile at how cute the little girl is, but I feel my heart in my throat when she is running straight to Y/n. "Hi my baby." Y/n greets the child, picking her up and spinning her around. "Mama?" Yelena questions next to me.

"Can we go home now?" The little girl asks. "Give me 10 minutes sweetie and I'll be ready to go. I'll grab you a muffin whilst you wait." Y/n responds, sitting the girl at a table. Y/n finishes up her last few jobs before returning to her daughter. Wow that sounds weird. I find myself stuck to my seat not entirely sure what I'm feeling. I've missed my chance.

As her and the girl walk out the door, her eyes land on us. They go wide and she is quickly rushing out the door of the coffee shop. Yelena is far quicker than me and has jumped out of her seat and is chasing after Y/n. When I finally get my sense back, I follow quickly after, to see Yelena just catching up to Y/n. "Please, just wait. We've been looking for you for years." Yelena pleads.

Y/n is now holding the scared little girl in her arms as her eyes stare down Yelena. "We just want to talk. To have a chance to apologise. Please." Yelena practically begs. I can tell that seeing Yelena like this is having an effect on Y/n. She lets out a sigh and slowly nods. "Follow me." She mumbles and turns on her heal.

We follow her to a small little house just on the outskirts of town. The garden is immaculate and when she opens the door, it feels so homely. "Mia, why don't you go and play with your toys upstairs. Mama just needs to talk to these ladies." Y/n instructs the child, who seems reluctant to go. "But they're scary." Mia mumbles which causes Yelena to let out a small chuckle. "It's ok sweetheart. I'll be ok." Y/n reassures her.

Reluctantly Mia leaves and heads upstairs. I start to wonder around the small living space whilst Y/n makes us a drink. There aren't many photos up. Most of them are of Mia, but there are some with Y/n in too. This gives me the smallest bit of hope that it means she's not with someone else.

Y/n enters the living room with a tray with three glasses and a bottle of vodka. "Figured you wouldn't want a tea and I sure as hell need this for whatever you're here for." She says as she fills three glasses. There's a silence as we sit, neither Yelena nor I knowing where to start. The sound of the ticking clock is all you can hear and the occasional giggle from upstairs.

I notice that each time we can hear that, Y/n's face lights up. "So, you have a daughter." Yelena breaks the silence. "I do." Y/n responds shortly. "Were you pregnant whilst you were with us? I didn't know you were with anyone." Yelena questions. "Like you would have noticed anyway." Y/n scoffs. "But no. I wasn't. She's not biologically mine." Y/n admits which takes us a little by surprise. "Oh." Is all Yelena responds with. "Where have you been?" I now ask, wanting to know that she has in fact been safe since she left us. "Why should I tell you? You can't just turn up here and demand answers from me. It's been three years." She says firmly. She certainly got her confidence since she left!

"We've been worried about you Y/n. All we've wanted to do is apologise to you after that day. Well, not even just for that day. For everything, for the way I treated you when I promised you, we'd always be there for each other." Yelena answers, a hint of desperation in her voice. "For three years, I have been so angry at myself for getting so caught up on Natasha and not losing her, that I ended up losing you instead. It was like I felt like I couldn't have two sisters and being around Nat and the others made me feel like I had my family. I was a coward to let them isolate you like they did."

I have never heard Yelena talk so honest and openly about something before. It's obvious she is baring her soul her, and I think Y/n realises that too. "All I ever did was try and fit in with everyone. I knew we wouldn't always be together, but I didn't think that was how it was going to go." Y/n shares, pain in her eyes. "You just gave up on me. You couldn't even defend me to Steve." There's a crack in Y/n's voice, which she tries to hide.

"We both owe you an apology for that. How he spoke to you that day was out of line. We can't change what happened, but I hope that we can work to fix what we broke." I step in now. I know I'm going to have to tell her about why I acted like I did. But I'm dreading it. What if I tell her and she never wants to see me again?! I think that would break me. "I also owe you an explanation for why I treated you like I did." I start, wanting to get this out of the way.

"I know why. You didn't trust me around Yelena." She answers for me. I quickly shake my head. "No, that's not it at all." I defend, looking to Yelena who gives me a reassuring nod. I take a deep breath and explain everything to her. How I couldn't forgive myself for what I did, and I dealt with it all in the completely wrong way. She sat there shocked when I finished. Her silence was so tense. I was sure she was about to kick us out and tell us that she never wanted to see us again.

"Did you want to kill me?" She asks and I'm quick to deny it. "Of course not! I could never want to hurt you." I admit and she smiles. "You were controlled Natasha. We all did things that we didn't want to. But we had to to survive. I would never have held that against you." She tells me with such sincerity, it causes me to start crying. Knowing that she doesn't blame me brings such relief, but it also brings anguish at the thought of how I treated her.

"I'm still here sat in front of you. I'm alive and well with the most beautiful little daughter. You didn't ruin anything that day in the red room." She shares with a wide smile. "Yeah, about that child." Yelena jumps in. "Where did you get her?" She asks and I laugh at her blunt question. "When I went to hand in my resignation, Fury asked me to carry out one more mission for him. In return he would allow me to go free from it all. I instantly agreed. The mission was easy, but I came across a small baby, she was a little over a year old. I have no idea how she got there or what their plans were for her, but I couldn't leave her. When I arrived back at Shield with a baby in my arms, Fury stepped up for me. He helped me adopt her and get this house with a job and a new identity. Somewhere safe where Shield are still able to protect us if we need it." She explains.

If it's possible, it makes me lov-like her even more. She's so selfless. "Protect you. Are you in danger?" Yelena asks in a panicked tone. "Not directly. But with the red room still running, there will always be a chance they come for the both of us." She replies. "You know I never stopped seeing you as a sister." Yelena blurts out of nowhere. Y/n has a small smile on her face at those word. "I never did either. But I knew that the compound wasn't the place for me anymore. It was where your family was, not mine." Hearing those words is hard to take. We should have been the family she deserved but we weren't and it's all down to me.

"Do you have that family now?" I ask but I notice her head drop a little. "Mia and I make do. The people here are nice and look out for us." She responds. "Come home with us." It's my turn to now blurt things out and the request takes both Yelena and Y/n by surprise. "Hey! I was supposed to be the one to ask her that. Cyka." Yelena complains with a pout.

"But she's right. Come back with us. We can be the family you deserve. And you'd be safe too. Mia would never have to worry about the red room." Yelena directs towards Y/n. "I could make sure my niece is safe." Yelena smiles. "Your niece?" Y/n questions with a smirk. "You're my sister whether you want to be or not, so therefore she is my niece." She argues whilst Y/n lets out a hum.

"Mama! Can I have a dwink pwease?" Mia rushes down the stairs out of breath into Y/n's arms. "What did I say about running down the stairs?" Y/n scolds. "Sorry Mama." Mia apologises with the cutest little look. Oh she is going to have everyone putty in her hands. "I'll get her a drink. Milk?" Yelena jumps up, already trying to prove herself. "Please." Y/n nods holding Mia against her.

Mia's big eyes land on me and I smile at her. "Who is she?" Mia whispers to her mama. "That's Natasha. And that loud one over there is Yelena." Y/n responds, earning a gasp from Yelena. "I am not loud!" She shouts which causes Mia to let out a loud laugh in response. Yelena comes back over and hands over the glass of warm milk to Mia who happily sits and drinks.

"So... will you come back with us?" Yelena asks and Y/n sighs. "I don't want to have Mia in that environment where everyone hates her mama." Y/n responds. "They don't hate you. They understand what they did was wrong. Steve has been feeling guilt ever since you left. He was ready to jump on the quinjet with us and be here with us to apologise to you straight away." I tell her, wanting her to know that it will not be the same as it once was. "Besides, I won't let anyone say anything against you. I won't make that same mistake again." I say quietly, almost coming over as shy. "Me too. We'll protect you." Yelena confirms.

Y/n thinks for a while. "Ok, but I promise if anything like that happens again, I'm gone for good. I don't care about me, but I will protect Mia with everything I have." Y/n agrees which makes both Yelena and I jump up in excitement. "Why are they so happy?" Mia asks, placing her glass on the table. Yelena rushes over and picks her up and spins her around. "You're coming to live with your Auntie Yelena!" She shares excitedly. Considering this kid has just met us, she is so excited at the thought. Y/n just shakes her head at their antics, but she looks to me and our eyes meet. I smile at her which she easily returns.

We stay with Y/n for the week whilst she sorts all her affairs out here. We have called the team and told them that Y/n is coming home with us. We may have missed out a small detail of the child, but we wanted to surprise them all. I could tell that Y/n was nervous on the flight home. Mia was asleep, curled up on Yelena's lap, whilst Y/n was staring at the wall, her leg bouncing.

I take a seat next to her and place and hand on knee. "It's going to be ok." I try to comfort her. "I won't let anything happen to you. To either of you." I reassure her. "You've got Yelena and I completely. You're safe." She rests her head on my shoulder and looks towards the two sleeping children. "I think I'm more worried about the influence Yelena is going to have on Mia." She jokes, breaking the tension. "Oh, that I can't help you with. Yelena is a force even I can't control." I joke in return, earning a laugh from Y/n. Something that has become my favourite sound.

When the jet comes into land, Y/n gentle wakes Mia up, whilst I give Yelena a slap on the shoulder to rouse her. Y/n holds Mia on her hip, who is clinging to her mama as the ramp of the jet starts to lower. We're surprised to see such a welcoming party. Everyone is there, including Fury and Maria. I can see that it's overwhelming Y/n a little, but she takes a deep breath and starts to walk forwards.

"Agent Y/l/n. Good to see you again. You too little one." Fury greets booping Mia's nose. He quickly clears his throat when he notices we're all looking at him in shock and mutters something about important work to do before leaving. That leaves us with the team and the nerves have hit Y/n again. "Who's this?" Tony asks pointing to the child in Y/n's arms. "This is Mia. My daughter." The team gasp at Y/n's response. "Hi." Mia whispers giving a cute little wave. "No one hurts Y/n or my niece. If you do I will make your life hell." Yelena protectively growls. There's an agreement from the team as they slowly make their way forward to greet Y/n. Each giving their own apology.

"I'm going to build you a specific section here at the compound. I'll make sure you each have your own room and a living space. A place you can call home." Tony excitedly rambles on as he guides Y/n inside. "In the meantime, I'll arrange for your room to be kitted out for the two of you." He carries on. I can see the appreciation in Y/n's eyes as Tony rushes off, ordering Friday to order a new bed.

"Uh, Y/n. Could we talk?" Steve approaches Y/n, which causes Yelena and I to naturally step between them. "Please I just want to apologise." He pleads. "I'll take my little munchkin. Don't fuck up." Yelena warns, taking Mia from Y/n's arms. "fuck..." Y/n's head snaps to Mia as the colour drains from Yelena's face. "You are going to fix that." Y/n growls at Yelena who instantly apologises and rushes off, telling Mia that she can't say that word again.

I step away, but make sure I'm in ear shot should Steve not be being truthful with his intentions. "I just want to apologise for what I said that day and how I treated you whilst you were with us. I'm not going to make up any excuses because there aren't any. I was out of order, and I hope over time you can forgive me. You were an asst to this team, I was just too blind to see it." He's genuine in his delivery and I can see the cogs turning in Y/n's head. "Over time I think I can forgive you. Just don't be an ass again. I've got more to lose this time and I will do anything to protect that." She warns and I'm so happy that she is standing up for herself. "Of course. You and your daughter are safe here." He reassures her.

Content with the apology, Y/n moves further into the compound to find the two troublemakers. I follow to see Yelena and Mia asleep on Y/n's bed. "Remind me why I agreed for these two to live together?" She sighs. "Because we both unfortunately have her as our sister." I tease causing Y/n to laugh. "I know that Mia is safe here as long as Yelena's around." She whispers and I wrap my arm around her. "You're both safe here. I'll make sure of it." I tell her firmly. She looks up at me and our eyes lock on each other. I know that I will protect this woman with my life.

Two years later

I couldn't be happier in this moment as I hold Y/n close to me as the music plays. "I can't believe you're finally my wife." I whisper to her as her head rests against my shoulder, our bodies swaying to the beat. "Took you long enough to ask." She jokes and I pinch her side. "Hey! I had a real fear you'd say no." I defend weakly. "Unfortunately, you managed to worm your way into my heart that there was never going to be a chance I could keep going in this life without you. I was just waiting for you to take the leap." She responds, lifting her head to lock her gaze with mine.

"Oh, shut up. I had this from our daughter too. Bugging me every day to marry you. In fact, I think I was ambushed!" I tease and she laughs. "Well, you're stuck with me now. I'm not letting go." She replies. I lean down so my lips are hovering over hers. "Good, me neither." I whisper as I connect our lips in a soft kiss. "When are we going to tell our little spider that she's going to be a big sister?" I ask, placing my hand on my wife's stomach. "After the honeymoon. I want to have this time together first." She answers to which I easily agree. I will do anything for my wife and my kids.