#it's a really bad sign when you feel you have to lie about how much sleep you get and even if you exaggerate the number of hours you get

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

ROT

hurt/comfort pairing. tangerine x gn!reader summary. tangerine sees through your lies about having a tough time word count. 859

There hasn’t been much to push you out of bed lately. Your complex internal feelings much preferring the protection of your duvet than everything else outside the bubble of sadness you built around yourself. The covers acting as a shield from the real world.

Rotting is the only way to put it really, wasting away. Scrolling mindlessly on your phone from early to late hours of the day, doing whatever deems necessary to quieten and numb the persistent nattering in your brain. Though it was utterly boring, the hours upon hours of staring at your phone all beginning to merge together.

With Tangerine and his incessant worrying of you and your needs, you had to disguise your sadness within sickness — dramatising a bad belly and pounding head in order to keep his anxiety at bay.

You knew your dismal states often consumed him, the thought of being unable to help you acting like an axe in his heart. You couldn’t bear pulling him into your pit of darkness, so you decided to keep him out of it. Wanting to preserve him as a flashlight to navigate yourself from the bleak.

Tangerine has been staying with you to keep you company during your faux fever, maintaining things around your house you were unable to keep up with. All in all being a great house guest and boyfriend.

You hear a slight creak of the floorboards outside your bedroom door, Tan’s head peering through the gap mere seconds after. You turn slightly, momentarily meeting his eyes from across the room.

“Alright?” he questions briefly, voice soft as not to disturb you.

“Yeah,” you reply, response short to keep up the charade.

He signs faintly before he’s on the move, walking across your room until he’s right in front of you, knees knocking at the edge of the mattress. He looks down at you, head cocking slightly as if things are beginning to click in his brain. Dots starting to connect.

“How you feelin’?” he asks, looking over the side of your face, waiting for you to look up at him, though you never do.

“Better,” you lie.

You keep your gaze cast downwards as you shift under his attention. And as you go to tug your covers, wanting to reshield yourself once again, he’s bending at the knee. Lowering himself to look you in the face.

“It don’t look it,” he gently shakes his head, seeing through your lies. The tone of his voice holding no such anger or malice.

You exhale softly and bring a hand to your face, thumb and middle finger resting over your temples, covering your eyes from his forever intense gaze.

“Why you pushing me away?” he asks, his question sounding more rhetorical — quite like he himself already knew the answer. “Hm?” he hums.

He reaches for the hand covering your face, his index hooking into the V between your thumb and forefinger, pulling it from its secure shielding. He holds onto your hand carefully, sweetly entwining with your fingers as he leans in, pressing a kiss into the back of it.

“What’s the matter?” Tangerine questions, eyes softer than you’ve seen before. Looking over you like the sheer sight of you alone was killing him. “Come on,” he prompts, nodding gently when you finally meet his eyes. “Talk to me. Come on, love.”

You look at your hand in his, watching his what seems to be nervous fiddling — his finger’s playing with yours while he awaits your response. Though, you don’t really have one. You don’t have an answer to give him.

“I don’t know,” your voice cracks faintly as you offer him a shrug, speaking like the lack of reasoning is also weighing heavy on your mind. “I’m just sad,” you murmur, your brows beginning to furrow woefully.

He nods, expression soft and hurt as he looks over you, trying to show you he understands.

“What can I do?” he asks, caressing the back of your hand with his thumb — tracing faint circles into your skin.

You offer him another measly shrug as your tear duct begin to fill. You really had no answer.

He stills, fighting off the lump in his throat upon the sombre sight of you. “Can I do anything?” he rephrases, emphasising whether anything can be done at all.

You give him another shake of the head, the motion as soft as the others.

He nods understandingly, lips forcefully straightening as his free hand reaches for the side of your face — thumb gliding under the wetness under your eye, flicking away a tear.

Your close your eyes upon the warm contact of him, finally feeling a moment of peace.

“Sorry,” you mutter, voice thick from your restless days in bed. It was like you were now finally growing sleepy.

“Don’t be daft,” he whispers, the motion of his head reinforcing the gravity behind the statement, though you could no longer see it — your eyes fluttering closed.

Tangerine holds onto both your hand and cheek, keeping you safe and protected as he sits on the floor beside your bed. Caressing you sweetly until you’re drifting off into some much needed sleep.

⎯ ☆ ⎯

[orcelito]

This morning, my therapist called me to let me know she's setting up her own practice via telehealth (which is what we were using Anyways) & asked me whether I'd want to follow her there. She still has to set stuff up with insurance stuff But her out of pocket stuff is like HALF what I've been paying out of pocket for the company she was in. So I was like, Hell Yeah let's do it

So im gonna keep up with appointments, maybe once a month or so, just so I have the accountability + the ability to ramble about what I've achieved. Bc that's been rly nice for me. I'll have my therapist back!!!! And better than ever, if only because I have to pay so much less for it 😂😂😂

And ALSO, today I put in my course request for the orchestra into the form. So different from just two weeks ago, where I was practically begging to be given a chance to audition. I was sitting in the same spot of the lobby even, but putting in my official orchestra request instead of sending an email as I vibrated in hope and anxiety. I Got It tho. And the class won't even be that late in the day. It's really exciting.

[seiwas]

₊˚⊹。take my time (i’ll spend it all on you) | gojo satoru

wc: 1.6k

summary: gojo sees you in lingerie for the first time. 

contains: f!reader, suggestive almost nsfw (they make out… maybe a bit steamy), 18+ just in case, reader is in lingerie, shy feelings!! gojo down bad!!

a/n: i hc that the first time gojo sees you in lingerie, it’s like seeing you walk down the aisle—he’s a bit sappy like that! i also think that he’d love seeing his lover in pink! idk! it’s just the vibes! (col reader would look cute in pink too i think hehe complements the personality!); takes place later on, around col #4 (wip)

collection masterlist: conversations on love 3.5b. —will i ever bring you peace? <- you are here -> +04b (extra). if you're ready (let me) + 04. these traces of love, they outline you

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

There are few things in life that have earned Gojo’s double take: 

A sign for a newly-opened gelato shop with ‘exclusive flavors for the first 30 customers!’ written in fine print; Megumi, back in middle school, being confessed to with a sweetly handcrafted box of chocolates for Valentine’s Day; a small cut, right at the tip of his nose from that time you sparred with him and he let you get too close (or so he says). 

And now you. 

In something pink—

—that if he backtracks just a bit, steps one foot behind the other to glance again at the space left open by the bedroom door, and squints—

He’s certain, 200% sure. 

It’s lingerie. 

He blinks once, twice, rubs at his eyes even as his mind attempts to catch up to whatever it is–you–he just saw. This must be what wires feel when they short circuit. 

You know he’s home, right? You have to, you just told him to rinse the dishes after snacking.

And he was in the middle of doing that—walking across your apartment from couch to kitchen, stopping only to do a double take at the sight of pink in his periphery, at you, once he looked again, clearly. 

Or were you doing this on purpose? Did you want him to see you? 

He gulps, warmth spreading from the tips of his ears down to his neck, lingering. 

There’s only one way to find out, really. 

He walks down the hallway leading to the bedroom, keeping his footsteps light so as to not startle you.

If he’s being honest right now, his mind is full to the point of feeling empty—too many thoughts swirling around the fact that behind this very door, he’s about to find you in pink lingerie. 

And when he takes a deep breath, fingertips pushing on wood very slightly as he calls out, “Bab—“

“S’toru!” you squeal from the other side, panicked as you instantly push it back closed.

So you didn’t do it on purpose. 

“Sorry, give me a minute!” you call out, and he can hear your footsteps from the other side, frantically walking around for what he can assume is you looking for something to cover yourself with. 

But he doesn’t want that. 

Not when he already has the visual of you, pretty in what he suspects is pink lace.

Not when the way you said ‘S’toru’ sounded so much like ‘‘Toru’, your ‘‘Toru’, the way you usually say it pressed against bed sheets, under him, expression blissed out from—

Do you have any idea what that does to him? 

“Are you wearing lingerie?” 

You freeze. Gojo can tell from the other side of the door, and you think, damn it, because he isn’t supposed to know you bought a set, much less see you in it. Not yet. 

You could try to lie, but Gojo always sees through you, through every change in inflection, the way your eyebrow twitches before speaking. 

“Can I come in?” he asks softly, almost hesitantly. 

How can you possibly resist him when he speaks to you like this? Asking permission as if this space you live in isn’t as much his?

You sigh, flustered at being caught this way, “Can you close your eyes first?” 

He follows, laying one hand over his eyes for good measure before knocking on the door. You open it slowly, wood creaking as he steps inside. 

You feel a little naked right now despite how he isn’t even looking your way, opting to face the side opposite from where you’re standing. It’s on purpose, you know, he can tell where you are—Six Eyes and all. 

There’s a smile that he’s hiding, biting his lower lip to stop it from showing. His toes are wiggling from the excitement coursing through him.

You know Gojo will like you in anything; in fact, he’s made it very clear that he prefers you in nothing—but still. Your stomach feels queasy and you can’t get rid of how nervous you’re feeling. 

And you guess, it’s really just because this was meant to be a surprise for him—the design you’ve chosen, how it looks on your body, how it looks to him, especially. You’d ordered the lingerie set months in advance to leave a lot of time for returns, whether it turned out ill-fitting or just unflattering.

You didn’t expect him to catch a glimpse of it now, months before his birthday, before you were even ready. 

“I’m waiting…” he teases, voice sing-song in that way he usually does to annoy you. It always makes you smile though, and it’s an odd form of comforting with how it dulls your jitters right now, just a little bit.

“Okay, you can look.” 

As soon as he turns, you squeeze your eyes shut, hands on your sides as you fiddle with your fingernails. Seeing, knowing his reaction in real time is still nervewracking, regardless of every reassurance you tell yourself—because, what if this is the off-chance that you’re wrong, and he doesn’t like it? 

Or worse: what if he has to pretend he likes it?

You frown a bit—it doesn’t help at all that Gojo isn’t saying anything.

But—

How can he, when there are no words, no adjectives, no possible descriptions to articulate what he’s seeing—what he’s feeling?

If he didn’t die then, in every instance he’s brushed with death: by Toji’s hands, locked up inside that box, in that final moment with Sukuna, nearly halved—

He thinks he might have just died right now. 

Because this? You? In lingerie as pink as all he’s feeling—his cheeks, his nose, flushing down his neck, maybe even his chest if it were exposed. 

It’s heaven. 

You’re a sight. 

While Gojo has certainly seen you in much less, and done with you things much more than just stand with you like this, he’s never seen you in lingerie.

And you’re so pretty. Sexy. All his, he can’t believe it.   

He’s noticing all the little details on it–on you–its shade, almost salmon with a bit of baby pink; its material: sheer net as the base for everything—it’s practically see-through save for the delicate floral lace running across the bra cups and panty front.

The set itself is nice, sure, but he knows he only likes it this much because it’s on you. And he knows he’ll always like anything on you. 

The heat in his stomach is building, spreading, to the single part of him that—

“Is it that bad?” you scrunch your nose, eyes still closed. He looks at you confused, before he realizes: he hasn’t said anything.

He chuckles and you open your eyes, pouting. 

And God, he wishes you didn’t do that. That look on your face—what it does to him.

“I ordered it in advance for your birthday,” you start, pout deepening as you ramble on, “it was supposed to be a surprise, but if you don’t like it, I can still–” 

That’s enough. 

He can’t believe that you actually think he doesn’t like it. 

Gojo steps into your space, close enough to grab you by the waist as his other hand reaches up to slot itself in the area between your ear and your jawline, tilting your head up slightly as he leans in to kiss you. 

It’s rushed at first, almost desperate—hungry, the way he releases his breath only to take you in; your lips, soft in the way he knows them to be, his hand on your waist squeezing. Your fingertips trail to his cheek, almost cupping as his kisses turn deeper, more languid, lips moving against yours slowly, savoring. 

Gojo is a fast learner, and he shows it best in the way he kisses you, as if he’s memorized every way to build that familiar heat within you. You lay your other hand against his chest, gripping at the fabric of his t-shirt as he pulls you closer. 

You bite his lip and suck, just a little bit, the way he likes it, and he moans, lowly, vibrations rippling through your mouth as he holds you steady. He’s hard already; you can feel it pressing against your lower belly. 

And you realize, as a small laugh tears itself away from you, how ridiculous it was for you to even worry. 

You break the kiss, leaning your forehead against his as you keep your noses touching. It’s impossible to tell how Gojo looks, but you have a hunch with how he’s breathing so heavily; the skies in his eyes must be darker, almost gray, turned on by desire—the same one settling deep in your stomach, aching, needy. 

“It’s perfect,” he whispers, lips grazing yours. He traces hearts by your shoulder, something born out of the many times you’ve lain in bed together, playing with the strap of your bra before pulling, a short snap! as he lets go. 

“You like it?” you whisper back, a lilt in your tone, teasing. Your fingers come up to trace his lips and he holds them in place, nipping. 

“Mhm,” he grins, smoothing his hand over the lace details on your bra, his thumb rubbing, “so pretty.” 

He leans in again, a small peck, before asking, “Does this mean I can get my gift now?” 

You laugh, hitting his chest, “It’s not your birthday yet!” 

“Yeah, but what is time anyway?” 

And you know, with the way he’s trailing kisses down your neck, licking and sucking—you’re going to have to find another thing to surprise him with on his birthday. 

.

Later that evening, with your head lying right on his chest, you remember. 

“Oh yeah, the set also came with one of those belt things. Garter, I think? But I wasn’t sure if you’d be into–” 

You’ve never seen Gojo get up from bed faster.

thank you notes: for that anon that asked about whether col reader wears lingerie! + @stellamancer @soumies @crysugu for validating me that pink is in fact col reader's colour ᰔ i also just luv u guys 🥺

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

[drdemonprince]

In a piece for The New Inquiry from back in 2017, George Dust states that when queer people complain about there being a top shortage, what they really mean is “nobody is fucking me the way I want, and I have no agency in that.” Alongside co-authors Billy-Ray Belcourt and Kay Gabriel, Dust suggests that many queer people align themselves with a passive or “bottom” position because they believe that role will absolve them of the guilt of really wanting things. They present themselves as what they believe to be the sexual party with zero power; the receiver, the accepter of action rather than its cause.

This position is drawn in contrast to the bottom-identified person’s idea of a top: the one who approaches, the person with hungers and desires, the person who decides which sexual activities will happen and how intense they will get. The top, from this perspective, is the stronger, more capable, more dangerous person. They’re the only one who can ever be guilty of intruding or harming somebody else. This power is scary, but it’s also compelling.

Dust calls this fantastical version of a top a “brute” — and they are the most cartoonish stereotype of what it means in society to be a man. Because it’s a cartoonish stereotype, no human actually lives up to it — and we’d probably revile a person even if they could.

Though queer people know we are harmed by the gender binary and heteronormativity and all the social scripts those things force upon us, its biases are still embossed on our brains. Without meaning to, we reproduce tired gender stereotypes in our relationships. And so we see expressing a sexual want as masculine, and being masculine as being more capable of violence and coercive control, and thus bad. We see failing to communicate one’s desires openly as desirably feminine, as well as a sign of blamelessness and purity — because on some level we still feel it is wrong to have desires.

But this entire worldview is a complete lie. Desire is not evil. Expressing attraction is not a violation. Failing to express oneself can be just as dangerous as not listening to someone else’s limits. Women can be abusive. Bottoms can sexually assault. No matter our gender, presentation, or sexual role, we are each capable of harm. And the only way to make a safe, mutually pleasurable sexual encounter happen is by going after it, actively, and communicating from a position of inner strength.

So how do you do that, if society’s been telling you all your life that you’re meant to date by acting like a deer passively snapping twigs in the woods, waiting for some hunter to hear you, and pursue you? (That really is dating advice that Evangelical Christian counselors give to women, if you can believe it).

By not fixating so much on what you’re doing or not doing to draw other people toward you, and instead thinking in terms of what you want and what you observe beyond yourself.

[natewriteslol]

Delicious In Dungeon Having a Crush on You HC's!

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:

Summary: Just like the title says, how they would act if they had a crush on you including how you find out!

Pt.2 w Kabru, Shuro and Falin!

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ ☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*°☆.。.:*

Senshi:

-I'm not going to lie it is going to take a fat minute for him to fess up his feelings for you let alone for people to notice because it is the little things that stand out.

-Senshi is really good at keeping secrets and is a really private person and fights for his peace

-So what if he may slip a little bit more food onto your plate, make your favorite dishes only for you if the ingredients for it just so happens to be in his bag, is always the first person to get you out of a dangerous situation? It's all out of convenience and being kind

-But his lack of casualty is also really telling like when giving out compliments he sometimes has a tinge of shyness to his voice, "You look...very nice y-yes"

-The way you find out he has a crush on you is because he eventually comes to a realization that he cannot keep running away from his problems because that has never ended in anything good and confesses his feelings for you

-It happened whilst everyone was asleep and it was just you two alone by the fire, the embers were crackling and you always enjoyed watching it ablaze while talking with Senshi. Eventually he piped up after staying silent for so long and having you take the lead in talking,

"I don't mean to corner you, nor do I expect you to feel the same but...I have feelings for you, genuinely Y/N. And, meeting you in this party means the world to me as in a way you all are unique treasures but you. I couldn't imagine just walking away without letting you know how much you mean to me."

-Honestly, Senshi is one of the least in denial about this predicament with his feelings and will come to you sooner

Marcille:

-A person who completely avoids her feelings for you like the plague and will deny like her life depends on it

-She swears to others that it's just because you're an amazing friend!

-She brings you your favorite sweet treats, offers to cast magic for your slightest inconveniences, she just so happens to bring books that are about the things you mentioned one off or are a specific interest you love

-The contrast of how she treats others vs. You is so jarring and it's really obvious that she has a crush on you. She is really protective and a bit possessive (not in a weird way) over you and she does not really care about the other people in her party like that

-Anytime she's afraid of something, she holds onto you, Marcille is VERY touchy with her crush

-The blonde blushes pretty consistently and is really shy when it comes to you and tries to appear nonchalant but fails miserably

-It's honestly so bad that even Laios caught on after Senshi threw him a clue and one time when it was just him asked her, which resulted in her coming clean and being VERY distressed as if she committed a crime

-The way you find out she has a crush on you is when you're on a mission in a dungeon. She was near a weeping willow exerting mana, rumored to grant wishes to anyone who asks.

-She held a piece of paper and was on her knees, looking up at the grand tree on the soft blades of grass. She began speaking to the tree once you silently walked in through the cave hole to check on her and the half-elf was completely unknowing of your intrusion,

-"Please they're the love of my life, and I'm not asking to force them but maybe...show me a sign if they like me back. They make me feel like no other and I am just so confused and I need guidance, Ancient Willow."

Chilchuck:

-Deny. Deny. Deny. Deny.

-Oh, and did I say deny

-He absolutely hates being the person caught with egg on his face and being in the wrong, so the fact that he himself Mr. 'No Party Romances' violated his own rules?

-He wants to fall into a hole right on the spot

-While he is a grown ass man and doesn't want to be a coward, Chilchuck doesn't want to face this problem head on surprisingly (sarcasm)

-He shows his love for you by trying to keep you the safe the most out of everyone in the party, scolds you HEAVILY when you mess up that could've cost you your life

-Some may say that it's just Chilchuck's explosive nature, Senshi was actually the first to see through it and grow suspicion over his behavior but honestly didn't have enough evidence for his theory and was shot down by Laios and Marcille

-It's not extremely obvious his slight shift in treatment until you had been kidnapped by the Chain Devil to protect Chilchuck from it's clutches

-And multiple times have members of the party have been kidnapped and although shaken he was able to keep his cool...but this time it was heavily different

-He let out a horrified scream that they had never heard from the Half-Foot before. He scrambled to his feet after watching you getting pulled into the darkness, his eyes were glassy and full of panic as he asked the rest on what they should do

-When they get you back, you were too tired to really stand so you laid in the sleeping bag as everyone else slept as well, but the brown haired man never left your side and watched as you slept

-...or so he thought

-You find out about his true feelings as you laid in your sleeping bag. As you were drifting in and out consciousness but felt light weight on the side of your body and Chilchuck began to talk to you, asking if you were awake

-"Good, you're fast asleep...I hope you know that I'm not hard on you because I don't like you that's...not even close to the truth.

I love you, so much and...I get so damn scared for you."

Laios:

-Constant. Monster. Facts.

-One of the things that makes Laios so attracted to you is that you listen and like when he nerds out so please be prepared. You're a safe space to spew out knowledge and it means the world to him

-Consistently gives you small little gifts, but then sometimes gifts to the others so it doesn't look suspicious. Maybe it was something with the light but, the look in his eye as he gave you the bracelet and put it on you was so different.

-Usually doesn't care about other people being in a towels or shirtless, but when it's you he feels like a victorian man seeing an ankle for the first time. When he sees your collar bones and he tries to keep it very lokwey, but is highkey blushing

-Gives you some sketches of your favorite creatures, always "accidentally" makes your favorite dish for dinner nights, pouts a little when you need to be gone without him for a little

-If you're ever feeling insecure he might open his gob a little too much, "I get maybe why you'd feel that way but, if you ask me I think it's pretty hot" he says with a blank, enthusiastic smile on his face not at all understanding how that could come off

-You find out that the knight has a crush on you the first time he gets absolutely hammered with Senshi, Chilchuck as he was convinced by the two to get drunk

-The bar was packed in one of the "safe spaces" in town and you and Marcille were kinda the designated sober people within your party, and whilst the half elf was in the bathroom you decided to get some fresh air and got up from the stool seat

-"Whatcha' doing party is jus' getting started?" Laios asks

-You shot him a look over the shoulder and responded softly, "I need some fresh air hun, I'll be right back."

-And there went his inner dialogue. Out his mouth.

-"Woah, how sexy. Being in love really sucks sometimes since I'd really do tricks like a dog to be with them good god."

-The look you gave dobered him almost completely, and if that wasn't enough Marcille was right behind him and heard every word

-Love is cringe but he is free I guess.

Part Two:Kabru, Shuro and Falin!

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ ｓｗｅｅｔ ｎｏｔｈｉｎｇ ♡

♡ Pairing: tattoo artist!ex boyfriend!chan x chubby!fem!tattoo artist!reader, best friend!stray kids

♡ Genre: angst/smut/fluff

♡ Summary: After a year abroad spent perfecting your craft, you decide to return to the shop that you started at to reconnect with the people you love but how will your friends react to your sudden return? And how will your ex feel when he finds out your back in town attempting to reclaim your place in his shop and maybe even his heart?

♡ Word Count: 5.8k-ish

♡ Warnings: chan's really down bad for you and the littlest bit posessive, strong language, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, male masturbation, creampie, oral sex (m&f receiving), overstimulation, a lil nipple play, orgasm control if you squint, pet names (beautiful, pretty, baby), a lil hair pulling, and that's about it.

♡ A/N: So somehow I've written myself into a series of sorts all taking place in one tattoo shop. Seungmin's here if you'd like to read it. I'll for sure be doing one for all of the boys because why not? This one's a lot more angsty than the other one but I had a nice time writing something different so, as always, I hope you enjoy it, babes.

You stand with your back to the night, casting your starry eyed gaze upon the soft white glow of the neon sign that hangs overhead. It reads Social Path Tattoos & Piercings. This place isn’t new to you, even if the nerves rattling through your system might imply otherwise.

You’re more than familiar with it. You used to spend every waking moment in this place. Even slept here a couple times when you were a bit too tipsy to drive. And coming back to it after a year overseas is surreal. You dreamed of this a thousand times before finally biting the bullet and hopping on the next plane back here. Back home. 

You made it. Through the chaos of the airport, racing through crowds to make it to the Uber you may have called a little too soon. Through an hour of bumper to bumper traffic, listening to your driver give you dating advice you definitely didn’t ask for. Through a hell of a check in process at the hotel and lugging half your life up to the 8th floor of the lavish building.

You survived all of that to make it to this moment and you can’t even bring yourself to step inside. What if you aren’t welcome? What if the men you once called “family” consider you nothing more than a stranger now? It’s only been a year but so much has happened. There were so many tears the day you left, so much sadness—so much anger. Maybe you should’ve stayed away.

“Next time you have to get one. I’m telling you, it didn’t hurt at all” a tall girl with a septum piercing tells her friend as they exit the shop. 

The shorter girl by her side stares at the fresh tattoo on her friend’s arm with equal amounts admiration and fear. “Liar. It’s needles stabbing through your skin. There’s no way that doesn’t hurt.”

Noticing the tattoos peeking out of your strappy crop top, the taller girl turns to you for some back up. “Tell her it doesn’t hurt,” she pouts. 

In all your years as a tattoo artist you’ve never once lied to a client but you aren’t on the clock right now and can’t bring yourself to kill whatever glimmer of hope this girl might have of winning her friend over. 

“It doesn’t hurt” you lie to her friend, knowing damn well that, while it isn’t torture, it’s far from painless. “It might sting a little but you’re tough. I can tell. You’ve got it.”

“Thank you” the tall girl smiles, holding the door open for you. “Headed in?” 

“Uh…” you hesitate, chewing at your inner lip. There’s so much weight to that question. A weight she can’t possibly fathom. Swallowing your pride, you give her a smile and a nod, slipping into the shop. 

“Have a good night!” the girls say kindly, going about their night and abandoning you in the doorway. 

Breathing in deep, you take a few more steps before stopping to take in the scene around you. The shop is as alive as it's ever been, the lobby buzzing with customers busy picking out jewelry or waiting their turn to be seen.

The front desk is still straight ahead, marked by a small statue of an orange cat named Cheese. It’d been Minho’s idea to get it when you all went on a drunken flea market adventure and none of you were sober enough to shoot him down. The walls are still adorned with elegant, hand painted art courtesy of Hyunjin, the best photo realistic artist in the shop. The city even. 

The checkered floors are the same, an expertly polished black and white patchwork to match the charcoal color of the walls. Even the couch you bought in from your apartment is still positioned in the corner where a bunch of college kids are currently lounging. A lot has happened on that couch. A lot more than they know. God you hope the boys have cleaned it.

Everything is just as you remember it but the energy’s something new entirely. It’s the contradiction of finding familiarity on an alien planet. 

“You need something, babe?” the bubbly girl at the counter asks, waving you over. This is new. They used to force you to work the front desk on weekends, the guys alternating weekdays based on whoever lost at rock, paper, scissors. But now there’s a new face. She seems sweet though so you make your way over to her. At least one person’s happy to see you. 

“Yes but no but yes? I guess” you ramble, indecision painted all over your face. Observing your appearance she doesn’t take you as the kind of girl to be hesitant about what she came to a place like this for but she comforts you nonetheless. 

“It’s okay” she says, reaching out a sympathetic hand to touch yours, “Everyone gets nervous sometimes. I mean, I work here and even I almost freaked when I got my bellybutton pierced but it’s okay. You know what you wanna get done?”

“Actually, I’m not here to get anything done. I used to work here a long time ago and I just thought I’d drop by and see…”

“You’re fucking joking” a voice from your past interrupts. Before you even turn to look, you know exactly who that voice belongs to. Seungmin. 

“It can’t be. I’m hallucinating” he gasps, clutching his chest. “A ghost? In our shop?”

You roll your eyes at the dramatics. You’ve missed them. “A ghost? Am I dead now? Is that what you consider me?” you sniffle, pretending to cry. 

“Oh, my god. Stop it. Come here” he says, smiling bigger than you’ve ever seen. He throws his arms around you, squeezing you into the tightest hug. In an instant it melts away your worries of not being welcome here. This is the warmest you’ve ever seen Seungmin greet someone and you feel special for being the recipient. 

“Squeeze me any tighter and I will be a ghost” you tease, pulling back the slightest bit to get some air. As you do you notice something new on his face. “When did this happen?” You marvel at the shiny silver jewelry decorating his eyebrow. 

“You hate it don’t you?”

“Ssh, I don’t hate it. I like it. It’s cute.”

Seungmin blushes, rubbing his cheeks in a failed attempt to hide it. Out of the corner of your eye you catch the girl at the counter staring daggers through Seungmin’s soul. It’s easy to see that there’s something going on here and she doesn’t like him blushing over other girls. 

“Ooh, someone’s got a girlfriend” you sing and the counter girl giggles. You can’t help but adore how sweet it is when Seungmin lights up at the sound of her laughter. But you can’t deny that it drags up bittersweet memories of when that was you and...

“Follow me. Everyone’s here tonight. I know they’ll be happy to see you” Seungmin says, ready to escape the lobby before his cheeks overheat from all the blushing. It’ll kill his reputation if the guys find out. He leads the way to the back, as if you need the guidance. You remember exactly where you’re going.

“So…” he sighs, feeling the weight of your return for the first time, “How was Japan?”

“Oh, it was wonderful. It’s beautiful over there and I learned so much from my apprenticeship. I was super nervous at first, you know? But everyone at the shop was…” You stop yourself short, fearful that your fond memories of your time there might come off as bragging. You may have had fun in Osaka but it still paled in comparison to the place you come from. 

Seungmin picks up on it, glancing back at you to give you a comforting smile, “Hey, it’s okay. I’m happy…we’re happy that you did what you needed to do. It’s nice to have you back though. You are back, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know. That depends on what he says. You know how he was when I left.”

Seungmin says nothing, only nods. He knows oh too well how his best friend was when you left. And those months after spent stewing in a bitterness that only thinly masked the pain of losing you. He watched it play out until the sting had faded but only enough to pretend that things were okay when they weren’t. 

“Yongbok, what’d you do with my kit?” Changbin shouts across the room, tearing his station apart in search of his prized possession. 

A few stations away a busy Felix rises from his chair, directing his client towards one of the full body mirrors in the corner. “Why are you yelling at me? I don’t have your kit!”

“I’m not talking to you! I’m talking to him!” Changbin points a finger at a shocked I.N who’s been innocently prepping for the next person in line.

“You called my name!” Felix snaps and it dawns on Changbin that he’s been calling the wrong person. 

Changbin fights himself not to laugh at his own mistake. He puts his head down, discovering his kit tucked away under his table. “Oh, I did, didn’t I?”

I.N querks an eyebrow at him, arms folded across his chest, “Why do you always do that? You can never call me the right name.”

“Because he’s old” Hyunjin mumbles under his breath, still loud enough for the others to hear. Changbin picks up a towel to throw at him but hesitates when he notices Hyunjin’s in the middle of a tattoo. 

“It’s okay, old man,” Han teases, patting his friend on the back. Hyunjin might be busy but Han on the other hand is free enough to invade his personal space so it’s a slap on the back of the head for him. 

“Can you guys be adults for a second? We have a guest” Seungmin announces but you hardly mind. This was what you missed while you were gone. No matter how kind the artists at the other shop were to you, they could never replace your boys. Even in their most chaotic moments there’s nowhere else you’d rather be. 

Seungmin’s voice draws all of the attention in the room to you and everyone falls silent. If there’s anything else they needed to say the thoughts have evaporated in your presence. It’s quiet for long enough that you begin to worry. Thoughts creep back in that maybe this wasn’t the best idea. Seungmin may have been happy to see you but the others?

Just as you begin to doubt yourself, the room erupts in cheers and you find yourself at the center of the world’s biggest group hug. Their joy overflows as arms wrap around you, one set swapping out for another and then another swiftly enough to leave you dizzy. 

“You’re back! Why didn’t you tell us? Ugh, I missed you” Han says, pinching your cheek in an act of cute aggression he simply cannot control. 

Felix hugs you so that his cheek is flush against yours, “You’re staying, right? You have to stay.” 

This is nothing that you expected it to be. You’re flooded with enough joy to make a girl cry and you can already feel the tears welling up, you’re right on the verge of it. A year of wondering if you’d made a mistake. A year of worrying that the people you loved hated you for your decision. All of those doubts are shedded in the arms of these seven men. 

“What’s all this noise?” Chan groans, his eyes barely open as he steps out of his office, “I was trying to sleep for once.”

“Sleep? Shouldn’t you be working?” I.N says, never one to miss an opportunity to be a smartass. 

Chan lets out a yawn, stretching those muscular arms you very vividly recall drooling over and on. “You’ll pay for that, kid. But seriously, what are you guys doing out here?” 

The guys step away, gesturing towards you and his arms drop to his sides. Suddenly he’s reminiscent of a balloon at the end of a party, melancholy and deflated. You watch the light in his eyes die in real time and it makes you sick to your stomach to be looked at this way. It wasn’t always like this. In the old days he’d have you in his arms right now, showering you in kisses. But these aren’t the old days, no matter how badly you wish it were. 

He starts in your direction, one slow, agonizing step of his black boots after another. He stops a few feet away from you as if some invisible barrier is keeping him at bay. His expression is hard as stone as he studies you like you’re a creature he’s never seen before. 

“Hi” you manage in spite of the sudden lack of moisture in your mouth. You get the sense that you’re on trial for some horrible crime and Chan, the judge that he is, has no intention of offering you leniency. 

“It’s really nice to see you. You look…good.” There’s such a softness in the way that you are with him. The wisp of a smile on your lips, the gentleness in your posture. You’re soft as a marshmallow for this man and the fire of his anger’s enough to burn you to a crisp. 

“Chan, don’t be…” Changbin tries to reach his best friend but Chan snatches away, sparing you one last glance before disappearing into his office.

The door slams hard enough that the hinges creak and the wood seems to splinter. The others? They don’t hate you. In fact, they adore you with all of their hearts. But him? You’re positive he does and now you want to cry again but for a different reason altogether.

Han pats you on the back, bringing you close to him, “I’m about to work on my sketch for my next client. Will you help me?”

“I don’t know, Jisung. It might be better if I go.”

“What? No! You just got here!” Hyunjin pouts, his bottom lip quivering. “You’re really gonna walk out and leave some poor soul at the hands of his drawing skills?”

Hyunjin’s attempt at making you laugh works like a charm and a giggle escapes you. 

“Does that mean you’ll stay?” he asks, poking his lip out even more. 

“Yes, that means I’ll stay.”

“Yay!” Han cheers, grabbing onto your hand and dragging you over to his station.

He hops right into it, spilling all of the details about the tattoo and asking your opinion on it. At first you struggle to focus on helping him. As much as you want to, you can’t shake the mental picture of how Chan looked at you. He didn’t say a word but he didn’t need to. He said everything he felt without so much as parting his lips. 

Periodically you find your gaze drifting over to his office door, the pit of your stomach twisted with the anxiety over his next appearance. But the door never opens, not even a crack, and before you know it you’re fully engrossed in helping Han work on his sketch. Your styles are different but he admires you as an artist and soaks in every drop of your input like a sponge. 

As the night rolls on you find yourself at one station after another, helping the guys with what you can. You slip right back into their group dynamic with ease. It’s as if your spot was always here waiting for you to hop right back in. It’s like you never left. The minutes melt into hours and you find yourself lingering behind with them far beyond closing time. 

“We’re all going out for drinks. You’re coming right?” Felix asks as you group filters out of the shop, filling up the space on the sidewalk. 

“Yes, she’s coming. She doesn’t have a choice!” I.N answers before you have a chance to. The boys have already begun moving towards their destination and he drapes an arm around your shoulder to make sure you keep up. 

“I’m coming” you laugh, tapping him on the back of the hand, “I do need to run back to my hotel and change first though.”

Changbin looks you up and down, finding not a single thing wrong with your current fit. “Why? You look beautiful.”

As flattered as you are, there’s no way you’re going out on the town in a crop top and a pair of sweatpants. You might not be planning on switching into a ballgown but a change of wardrobe is definitely in order. 

You bat your eyelashes, grateful for the compliment, “Sweet but no. I still need to change. Just text me where you’re going.” Reaching into your pocket for your phone, you realize you must’ve left it behind. “Shit, I left my phone.”

They all pause, prepared to turn back and help you find it. “We’ll just go back and grab it” Han insists but you shut him down, not wanting to delay their plans. 

“It’s okay, really. I’ll just grab my phone and I’ll meet you there in a few.”

I.N opens his mouth to protest but you throw a hand over it before he can speak. “I’m not a baby, you guys. I got it. I’ll be quick, I swear.”

Shared glances between the seven of them play out a silent conversation that you aren’t in on. They want to look after you, especially after you being so far away for so long, but you’re stubborn and they know you won’t give in no matter what they say.

“Fine” Seungmin relents, “If you aren’t there in an hour we’re coming to get you!”

“Yeah and we’ll raid your hotel room, eat up all your snacks…” Han throws in for extra impact. 

“I’ll be there. I swear! One hour!” you promise, skipping back towards the shop. 

“An hour!” Hyunjin shouts after you, waiting until you’re safely back inside to continue on.

Inside the shop the lights are turned down, not completely off but dimly lit enough that you almost trip on your way to the back. You frantically search every station—in things, under them—but your phone’s nowhere to be found. 

“Fuck, where is it?” you shout in frustration.

Standing in the middle of the floor, you take a deep breath and contemplate where it could be. You were at Han’s station first and then you went to sit with Felix for a bit but Changbin called you to the front for something. That’s it. Maybe it’s there.

You turn to jog back up front when a sound from behind you stops you in your tracks. It’s the sound you’ve been dreading all night. The slow creaking of the door to Chan’s office. Your heart almost stops dead in your chest. You’re frozen, stuck right where you are. You can’t even bring yourself to turn around when you feel the weight of something on your shoulder.

“Looking for this?” he asks, tapping you on the shoulder with your phone. 

Hesitantly, you take it, turning to find yourself face to face with the man you used to call yours. Chan seems less angry now but his nose is red and his eyes are puffy. You can tell from the gloss dancing on the surface of them that he’s been crying. 

“Thanks. Sorry for leaving it behind, I didn’t mean to—”

“Why are you here?” He asks the question so bluntly that you’re stunned, unsure how to respond. 

“I don’t understand—”

“Why’d you come back? I thought you were confident in your decision. I thought that was what you needed. But now you’re standing in front of me so why?”

“Well, I…” you sigh, giving yourself a moment to process your own feelings, “I missed it. The shop and the guys and you.”

Chan’s jaw tightens, your profession placing him right back on edge. “You miss me?” he scoffs, “That’s not the truth. Try again.”

“But it is.”

“No it isn’t.”

“It is.”

“It isn’t!” he finally snaps, raising his voice at you in a way he never has before. “If you missed me then you would’ve called. You would’ve texted me. Do you know what that felt like for me? I haven’t heard your voice in a year.”

“Because you told me you didn’t wanna hear it!” you shout back, the tears you’ve been suppressing all night pouring from your eyes. It hurts to cry this hard. The tightness in your chest is unbearable. You’ve never cried this hard in front of someone before, not even him, but there’s no holding it back. “I blew up your phone all day every day for weeks begging you to talk to me. I might’ve left here but I didn’t leave you. You left me. You broke my heart and I’ve cried for you every night since. So hate me all you want but I won’t torture myself for you anymore.”

Four hours. That’s how long he spent pacing in that office spiraling down an emotional hole. He thought he knew what he’d say to you if he had the chance. All of those words left unsaid would come tumbling out. Those feelings of abandonment. That pain. He’d have the words to put to them that’d make you understand what you did to him.

Watching the tears stream down your face, none of those words matter now. He’d worked you up in his mind to be a villain, totally opposite to the girl he fell in love with. Blinded by his own bitterness he couldn’t see that you were still her. You are still her. And now he can’t ignore it. 

Tucking an arm around your waist he pulls you in, your face pressed into his chest. His fingers find your hair, stroking the soft strands. It feels like it’s been an eternity since he’s touched you. His body’s flush with the sort of warmth flowers must feel on a sunny day.

Chan leans in, his plush lips skimming your ear, “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just had so much anger when you left and I didn’t know how to deal with it but I don’t hate you. I’m so sorry.”

The tremors of his voice give you goosebumps. He sounds as broken as you do and just as lost. You shake your head, pulling back from him. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come” you say, wiping the tears away. “You don’t have to worry about me anymore. I’ll stay away this time. I promise.”

You walk off, your arms wet with tears that won’t stop falling. Your chest’s thumping and the shop seems darker than it was when you came in. Footsteps follow behind you lightly enough for you to question if it’s all in your head. If there’s something you’ve left behind then let it stay that way. You won’t turn back. Not this time.

It’s a silly thing to do but you’re doing it. 

Draped across your bed in a towel, you sip from a bottle of red wine and cycle through a heartbreak playlist that gives your lonely heart the company it desperately needs. The tears stopped a half hour ago, the last of them being shed in the shower. Your eyelids feel raw from all of the salty waterworks and your body’s exhausted.

A few feet away your phone sits on a table, lit up with text messages from the guys. After hearing what happened a few of them insisted on coming to get you but you can’t crawl your way towards the closet for the life of you. If not for their persistence you’d be content to rot in your hotel room for the rest of the night, drowning your sorrows in this bottle of overpriced wine.

Knock. Knock. Knock. 

“Nobody’s home” you groan, face down in the blanket. There’s a pause. Some shuffling on the other side of the door. Maybe it worked?

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Pushing yourself up from the bed, you toss the bottle aside and drag yourself over to the door. “Can’t a girl rot in peace?” you pout, swinging the door open. 

“If this is what you look like when you rot then rot all you want” Chan says, flashing you a smile so genuine you’re positive you must be dreaming. 

You stick your head out into the hallway, looking around for the other guys but there’s no one else in sight. “Chan, uh, what are you doing here?”

“Honestly? I’m afraid you’re gonna leave again before I can beg you not to.” 

With not a drop more of explanation he pushes his way into the room, kissing you like his life depends on it. His tongue glides over yours, savoring the taste of you mixed with the lingering sweetness of the wine. The kiss is so consuming you can barely get a breath in but air is vastly overrated when a kiss is laced with this much passion. There’s a year of longing inside of him and he pours it into you boundlessly. 

Tucking his hands behind your legs, he lifts you up, fingers delighting in the softness of your thighs. He missed this. The tenderness of your kiss. The plushness of your figure. The light, fruity scent of your perfume filling his lungs as he plants open mouthed kisses down your neck, suckling at your smooth skin.

His lips never break from you as he lays you across the bed, tearing your towel away like it’s nothing. His palms massage the fullness of your figure, riding every curve to cup one of your breasts. Your body tenses in response to his touch, moisture pooling between your thighs. 

Chan drags his tongue across your cleavage, his stiffening bulge pressed right against your core. “Tell me you’ll stay this time” he begs, lovesick eyes flicking up to you, “Don’t leave me again.” 

Brushing his hair out of his face, your fingers skate along that immaculate bone structure of his, bringing him up for another breathless kiss. His thumb brushes your nipple, making small circles on the tip of the bud, and you shudder. 

“I’ll stay” you moan, your thighs growing slick with your arousal. 

He pinches the bud, grinding his clothed cock against you harder this time, “Promise me.” 

Chan sounds so needy and it only worsens how badly you ache for him. You guide him back up to his feet, slipping to the edge of the bed to kiss his cock through his pants. You press your palm to it, riding the outline of the print while your other hand dips under his shirt to feel his abs contract with every touch. He tugs his shirt up over his head, giving your hands free reign of that beautiful chest.

You smile up at him, pulling down the band of his pants and his boxers at once. His cock springs free, thick, throbbing, and as deliciously veined as you remember. You stick your tongue out, licking up the arousal dripping from the tip. You smile up at him, your tongue retreating to say the words he wants to hear. “I promise.” 

You press your lips to the tip, taking it in further this time. You swirl your tongue around it, enjoying the satisfied groans that fill the room the more you take him between your fluffy cheeks. Your mouth is so warm and wet around his cock. It’s like heaven.

You relax your throat, taking him as far back as you can, before pulling back the slightest bit to wrap your fingers around the base. You rock your head back and forth, wrist rotating as you pump his shaft. You can feel every little twitch of his cock, taste the precum dripping on the back of your tongue, and it has you soaking through the blanket beneath you. 

Chan reaches down to play with your hair, utterly incapable of taking his eyes off of you. You look too pretty drooling around his cock for him to miss a minute of it. He wants to be like this forever with you. Not only this but everything. He wants to be with you. Near you. Inside of you. Anything you’ll bless him with. He just wants you right here, looking at him with all of the love and admiration you do with his cock throbbing down your throat. 

“My beautiful girl” he coos, tilting his hips in to push into you a little more. “All mine, yeah?” 

With your mouth stuffed so full of him he hardly expects you to answer. Your hum of agreement vibrating down his length is more than enough to let him know that you agree. You’re his again. You’ve wanted to be for so long and at last you are.

That knowledge is almost as intoxicating as feeling him on your tongue. Chan tangles his fingers in your hair, bringing your head back far enough that the head of his cock only ghosts your glossy lips. He plants a kiss on your forehead, staring so deeply into your eyes that you almost lose yourself. 

“Bend over for me, baby” he whispers and you nod your head, swinging around in the cutest way to assume the position.  

You crawl onto your knees for him, back arched and ass in the air. “Is this good, Channie?” 

If only you could see yourself from this angle. Your body’s beyond perfection and your pussy’s glistening like diamonds. He can’t stop himself from tasting you, a hand palming your ass as his tongue darts into your core. 

“So fucking good” he hums, his face buried between your thighs. His tongue dips up, dragging between your folds and teasing your clit. Your body trembles and he grabs your hips, lapping at your clit until his face is soaked in your juices.

“Channie, please, ah. Too much” you whine but your body tells a different story. You’re soaking wet, your walls so needy you’re clenching around air. Your hips arch and swirl, almost riding his face.

Chan’s too drunk on your pussy to listen, his free hand between his legs to stroke his cock as he devours you. His tongue pushes back into your core and your walls flutter around it, leaking like a faucet. His cock throbs in his palm, drenched in a mixture of your saliva and his arousal. He feels so out of it, so completely absorbed in you, that he’s racing towards his high faster than he’s ready for. 

Dragging his tongue out, he steadies himself, gripping your hips to bring himself right to your entrance. You wiggle your ass excitedly and he laughs, licking you from his lips. “You want it that badly, baby?”

You look back, serving a pouty face that’d bring even the toughest man to his knees. “I just wanna see how much you’ve really missed me.”

“I’ve missed you so much” he moans, sinking into you with one motion. You both nearly collapse at the dizzying pleasure of it. Your walls cling to his length as he bottoms out, filling you up perfectly. “I was going crazy without you” he confesses, pulling out and slamming into you even harder. Your body jiggles, the softness of your hips borderline sinful. 

You cry out, biting your tongue to avoid a noise complaint but the moans still spill out. Those broken, beautiful moans. Every stroke rides your sweet spot, pushing you further towards absolute ruin.

“I’ve needed you so badly” he coos, savoring the wet snapping sound of your body colliding with his. “Just like I need you right now. Fuck, I don’t know how I lived without this pussy.” 

Throwing his head back, he settles his knees at the very edge of the bed, bouncing you in his lap. He fucks into you faster, your juices splashing up and decorating his abs. Blindly you reach for a pillow, dragging it over to bury your face in because you know it’s coming. You feel it and so can he. Your legs are shaking, you can barely keep your body straight, and your walls are spasming too wildly to spare his sanity. 

You’re almost there, knocking right at the door of you high. But instead of keeping his pace, he slows down, every movement careful and purposeful. He angles himself against your sweet spot, making sure he doesn’t miss it once, and teases you to the point that your body’s almost crying to cum. “You ready to cum for me, hmm? You want it?”

“Mmhmm” you whine, eyes watering, “Let me cum, Channie, please.”

How can he deny the request of such a pretty girl? Picking up speed again, he thrusts into you, and your orgasm rips through you like an electric current. You bite down on the pillow, your brain going fuzzy as you cream all over his cock, moaning his name in broken syllables.

Chan has the glimmer of a thought to pull out but he’s too addicted to the feeling of you clenching to follow through on it. It’s too late anyway, his heart’s already skipping beats, his seed spilling out into the warmth of your core. His movements grow sloppier, both of your bodies getting weaker by the minute, but he doesn’t stop until your knees give out.

You summon the energy to roll onto your back, giving that poor little pillow a break, and Chan collapses on top of you, his head resting on your soft belly. “You know” he pants, massaging your love handles, “This music is really sad.”

You giggle, your awareness of any music playing having faded away the moment his lips found yours. “You’re right, it is kinda sad, but I was sad.”

“Was?” he asks, propping his chin up on your belly, “You’re not sad anymore, right?” 

“Hmm, no, I don’t think I am.”

“And you really meant what you said? That wasn’t just sex talk?”

You need a second to think about what it was that you said. You’re sure you said a few things when he was inside of you. All of which you meant, of course. “Oh, that I’ll stay? Yeah, I meant that. As long as that’s what you really want.”

Chan climbs on top of you, strong arms caging you in as he hovers above you. “More than anything.” 

He kisses you and you close your eyes, letting yourself fade into him. You don’t regret going off to find yourself, it was something you needed to do, but there’s no doubt in your mind that this is where your heart is. With the shop. With the boys. And, more than anything else, with Chan. 

[damiansgoodgirll]

could you write rhea x jey x reader smut. Like however you wanna write it just no cheating please

I’VE NEVER WRITTEN ANYTHING LIKE THIS AND I DON’T THINK I’LL MAKE MORE CAUSE THIS ONE IS BAD, YOU’VE BEEN WARNED ‼️

rhea ripley x reader x jey uso

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!!

‼️a little bit of angst, feels, insecure reader, fluff, romance, smut so stay away kids, not much of a plot, soft!rhea, soft!jey, dom!rhea, not so dom jey, threesome(?) and more i guess‼️

eyes on me

you didn’t exactly know what led to have you naked between rhea’s and jey’s bodies, but somehow you ended up there. maybe it was the constant tension between you and rhea. the way she would always make sure you were okay after a match, the way she helped you train everytime you were at the gym together or how she always made sure to compliment you, even if you were just wearing baggy clothes and had dark circles under your eyes.

you never meant for that to happen. after the painful break up with dom, rhea needed someone that stayed by her side. you and damian were her best friends so, of course you were both there for her.

she took your advice seriously when you told her that she had to move on. in less than two weeks she was already seeing jey uso and you were happy for her. maybe feeling a little jealous that she didn’t need you as she used to but you couldn’t lie that jey was the right person for her.

jey was always kind and gentle with you. respecting your friendship with rhea and never overstepping.

but if rhea and jey were a happy couple, why were you naked on their bed?

“we don’t have to do this if it makes you uncomfortable…” rhea softly whispered in your ear, gently kissing your neck.

it wasn’t making you uncomfortable. it was making you wonder what had changed during that dinner with rhea and jey at her place.

one minute you were all happily eating and watching a comedy show, the next minute you were straddling jey’s lap, his hands were moving under your shirt as rhea moved to massage jey’s shoulders and neck, leaving soft kisses on his skin.

you remember jey carrying you to the main bedroom, rhea leading the way. you still remember the feeling of rhea’s hands as she undressed you, taking her time admiring you. you remember how jey undressed rhea, him watching her with loving eyes, making you feel a little insecure because you didn’t have someone waiting at home that would look at you like that. you remember how rhea softly dragged you down on the bed with her, bringing a hand to your cheek and looking for any sign of discomfort in your eyes. when you showed none, she tested the water and brought her lips over yours. no rush, just a gentle kiss. one, turned into two, and two kisses turned into a full make out session with her as jey undressed himself and laid next to you on the bed. one of his hands tenderly caressing your hips. leaving soft kisses from your neck, to your collarbone, into your belly.

he stopped his movements when rhea said those words. he was too lost in his thoughts that he actually didn’t think that it might have been uncomfortable for you.

he looked between your faces and noticed the hopeful looked that rhea had. he knew that rhea thought of you as more than a friend, he talked about it with her and they both were on the same page. they both liked you, they both had feelings for you and if you were okay, they were ready to let you in their relationship.

“i’m okay with this…” you soft voice whispered. rhea and jey were able to hear you and they both relaxed when you said those words.

“but you’re thinking of something, aren’t you?” jey questioned, making you nod your head “what is it babe?”

you blushed under his staring gaze “it’s just…i don’t want this to ruin what we have…”

“i promise you, it’s not” rhea added “nothing is gonna ruin what we have…we promise you”

“okay…” you smiled, earning a smile from her side “but uhm…i’ve never been with two people at the same time so i don’t really know what to do” your cheeks turning red.

“it’s okay beautiful, we will take care of you” jey reassured you, making you nod your head.

your heart pounding in your chest when rhea started kissing you again. her lips were so soft and kissable that you were kinda jealous that jey had the chance to kiss her every day. jey moved between your legs, with his big hands, he softly pulled them apart. while rhea was assaulting your lips, jey started kissing your thighs, grazing at your naked pussy but never touching it.

“i wanna taste her…” rhea almost moaned on your lips when she heard jey kissing your thighs. he couldn’t say no to mami so he moved out of her way and as rhea positioned herself between your legs, the twin laid next to you, popping himself up on his elbow as he watched cautiously every movement your face made.

rhea’s lips kissed your clit, making you slightly move on the bed. when she got the reaction that she wanted from you, she began her attack on your pussy. she took her time eating you out, kissing and licking your clit. jey’s free hand moved over your already hardened nipples, giving them equal attention.

you weren’t a typical screamer in bed, you were shy and it was hard for your partners to understand if you liked what they were doing or not. jey noticed how hard you were trying to keep your moans low and he didn’t agree with your choice “i wanna hear your pretty voice” he whispered into your ear, while his lips left kisses behind your neck “moan for us y/n…” and that was all the confidence you needed because in the exact moment rhea licked at your entrance and jey took a nipple in his mouth, a soft moan escaped your lips, making rhea shiver from how good you were being for them.

jey enjoyed teasing your nipples, wondering if you were so sensitive just for him or you were like that in general. his kisses were soft, he was treating you with such care that you found hard to believe that the jey uso was such a romantic lover boy.

rhea told you about the first time they had sex and how he basically destroyed her. of course, she enjoyed it, and by the way she told you that story, you were sure that those two destroy the bedroom at least twice a day. but this was a different side of jey, and a different side of rhea.

still taking the lead, she brought one of her skilled finger over your clit as her tongue was working over your entrance “fuck baby, you taste so fucking good…” she moaned against your pussy, making you shiver. the added pressure over your clit sent goosebumps all over your body. seeing your thighs trembling, jey knew that you were close and he needed to see you coming for them.

he moved his head from your nipples to your lips, gently kissing you, his tongue fighting for dominance “you coming baby?” he whispered in your ear. too lost in pleasure, you couldn’t find a proper answer but the way your thighs shook and the way your body went rigid and limp in a minute was enough as an answer for jey. grabbing the sheets, a very pornographic sound left your lips, shocking everyone in the room, you included. no one ever made you cum so hard in your life.

rhea worked you through your orgasm, stopping only when she cleaned you up with her tongue. when she was done, she brought her face down to your face and softly pressed a kiss onto your cheek “you were so good for me…” she whispered in your ear. she watched your blissful face, eyes barely open and mouth agape, you were a vision for her.

“you should taste how sweet she is…” she grabbed jey’s face and brought him to her lips, making you taste yourself on him. jey moaned into rhea’s mouth, swearing that you were the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted.

rhea’s hand teased jey’s cock. you saw it tweaking in her hand as she gave it some attention too. pre-cum already spreading along his shaft, making him whimpering as rhea mover her hand up and down. you watched in awe how confident she was, how confident she was moving and you wished you could have a little bit of her confidence. you were there, watching her pleasuring her boyfriend and you felt yourself getting wet again.

“baby…” jey moaned against her lips “i wanna try y/n’s pussy…” he said, almost as if he was asking for permission. you saw the look rhea gave him, almost a smirk and she couldn’t say no so she nodded, kissing him one last time before sitting on the bed next to you.

rhea fantasised about you multiple times. she fantasised about having you naked just for her, having you naked for her and jey and now she couldn’t believe that you were actually there.

“you doing okay love?” she asked, making sure that you were okay and not overwhelmed.

“yeah…” a whisper left your mouth.

jey checked with rhea and she signed him to go, that you were okay and ready for him.

“if at any point you wanna stop, you say the word and i stop okay baby?” jey asked you, and you nodded. he wanted this to be pleasurable experience for you and hurting you wasn’t his intention.

he was big. probably the biggest dick you’ve ever seen and you haven’t had sex in a long time, you weren’t so sure he was going to fit.

“what about we stretch you out first?” rhea asked, mostly to jey. she might have sensed your worry or maybe she remembered when you told her that the last time you had sex was months and months ago.

jey nodded, understanding that this might have been a little overwhelming for you. he brought his middle finger over your entrance, teasing you, making you whimper. he took time with you. his finger slowly thrusting inside of you. your walls immediately clenching around him.

she’s not going to fit - he thought - she’s too tight.

“let me know if i hurt you…” he whispered, reassuring you with a smile.

“okay…” you smiled back. you trusted jey, you trusted rhea, maybe you didn’t trust yourself much but you knew you were in good hands. they would never hurt you on purpose and rhea reminded you that no matter what, you had control over your decisions, whether you wanted to continue or not.

his finger moved slowly inside of you, jey finding that spot that made you crawl to him. he found it when he heard a strong whimper coming from you “oh, like that uh?” he watched as you nodded your head, not being able to answer him. rhea admired the whole scene in awe. she had dreamed about this multiple times and she couldn’t believe that now you were actually there, naked for both of them. she was mesmerised by your beauty, by the way your body reacted so well to both her and damian. she couldn’t get enough of you.

“i wanna feel you coming on my cock…” jey’s voice was low, delicate even. you nodded, anticipation building in your core “if at any point you want to stop just let me know, i don’t wanna hurt you baby…” jey was dead serious. you weren’t rhea, he didn’t know you or your body as well as he knew hers but by the time you’ve spent together he saw how more of a delicate person you were, he knew he had to be careful otherwise he would scare you.

“i will…” you reassured him.

he brought his dick through your folds, collecting your juices before slowly thrusting his tip inside of you. he was big, probably the biggest one you’ve ever been with. he made you feel inch by inch, thrusting deeper inside of you “breathe baby…” rhea reminded you.

once he was all settled in, he waited for you to adjust, leaving soft kisses on your collarbone and breast, whispering praising words “you can move jey…” you nodded your head when he gave you a questioning look.

he moved slowly at first, his eyes never leaving your face, making sure there was no sign of discomfort.

when he hit that spot inside of you, you couldn’t contain your moans low any longer, pleasure was building inside of you and rhea’s hands touching between your shoulders and your breast weren’t making it easy for you to stay quiet.

“faster…” you moaned, making him smile. he sped up a little, hitting all the right spots inside of you “oh fuck…mh…” you felt tears forming inside your eyes, you’ve never felt that much pleasure in your life.

your thighs shaking a little, making jey speed his movements as rhea lowered her head and took a nipple into her mouth, biting and kissing it “you’re being so good for us baby…so fucking good” she murmured against your skin. you loved her dominant side, you trusted her with your life and you gave control over your own body.

“jey…oh-fuck…” you opened your eyes, meeting his staring look. a few tears fell and rolled down your red cheeks “please…” you didn’t even know what you were begging for.

“please what baby…you like it?” he whispered into your ear, only earning a nod as a reply “good girl…baby, you’re made for us…” he quickly looked down at rhea, noticing how her lips were playing with your nipples and her hands were playing with her pussy, bringing her own pleasure. the room was filled with moans, your skin shining from the layers of sweat upon it. jey’s body moving in sync with yours as you were both chasing your orgasm.

“jey, i’m so close��fuck” your voice whimpered, making jey slowing his thrusts as he could take a good look at you. he brought a leg over his shoulder, moving deeper inside of you.

“oh fuck…come for me baby…” he almost cried when he felt how your walls were squeezing him. you were close and he knew it “keep your eyes on me baby, i wanna see your face…” he ordered and you tried your best to do as he said “eyes on me…” he whispered, voice so rough and yet so soft.

rhea was about to cum as she played with her own clit and her moans vibrating against your skin where enough to send you over the edge.

“jey…oh fuck…i’m…” you weren’t even able to finish your sentence that you were already coming on his cock.

“yeah, i know baby…i wanna feel you” he sped up his movements as you were coming all around his cock. your own orgasm led to rhea coming all over her fingers. jey couldn’t hold himself anymore and he quickly pulled out and came all over your chest. he wanted to cum inside of you but as a first experience with him and rhea, he didn’t want overwhelm you. “oh shit…” his eyes rolled back as he leaked all over your chest and red breast.

you took time catching breath, your chest heavy while rhea softly kissed your reddened skin. your whole body was sensitive, legs still shaking and tears still falling from your eyes. jey moved to get a washcloth from the bathroom to clean you up.

“you did so good baby…” rhea whispered as she moved closer to your body. she laid down on the bed and she gently grabbed your body so you could lay against her. your head over her shoulder as she softly whispered praise words into your ear.

jey admired the two of you, feeling so grateful that you trusted them both.

he quickly cleaned himself before coming back to the bedroom, his hands moving to wash your sensitive pussy and chest, to clean you up from all of his juices and when he was done he moved to lay back down, next to your and rhea.

“are you okay baby?” he asked, meeting your eyes “anything that hurts?”

you smiled “no…i’m perfectly okay, nothing hurts…” and they both believed you. you looked so peaceful in jey’s eyes that he wished this could be a permanent thing and not a causal one.

“i should probably go home…” you whispered, feeling like you didn’t belong there. it was fun, it was good, but you didn’t want to crash rhea’s and jey’s romantic relationship more than you already did.

jey and rhea looked at each other, worried that they might have done something wrong “what are you talking about love?” rhea softly asked.

“i mean…this was just one night thing, right? i don’t wanna be the reason you two break up or have problems…” you mumbled, shying away.

“what? hold up! what is that coming from?” jey intervened.

you took a deep breath “i mean…isn’t this what you wanted? just an experience?”

“absolutely no…baby, why would you think that?” rhea was partially shocked and hurt “what i said at dinner, it’s true…i’ve always thought of you as more than just a friend and just because because jey and i are dating, doesn’t mean we don’t want you too…if you want us” she smiled at you.

they wanted you? not just for the sex, but they wanted you.

“i know that your pretty mind is overthinking right now…” jey murmured leaving a soft kiss over your shoulder “but we want you, if you want us…”

“like a relationship? the three of us?” you definitely didn’t expect that proposal.

“yeah…” rhea breathed “the three of us…we can take things slowly, we are not rushing you and we definitely will never make you do things you are uncomfortable doing…but it’s pretty clear, we like you more than just a friend and the idea of not having you with us it’s killing me…”

“okay…” you whispered, meeting rhea’s face and her hopeful eyes.

“okay?” jey asked, smiling a little too much.

“yeah…okay, let’s do this…” you knew you were in good hands so why not giving it a try?

——————————————————

I CANNOT BELIEVE THAT I WROTE THIS 🙅🏻‍♀️ enjoy 💋

[rinhaler]

𝖗𝖆𝖛𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖉 𝖇𝖞 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖔𝖜

would you fuck your high school bully if you got set up on a blind date with him? if he was hot, probably, right?? ... right?

✧˖*°࿐: 18+ only, no minors.    ✧. ┊ ex bully!rensuke kunigami x f!reader

Genre: porn with a plot Notes: a concept that has rotted my brain for weeks now. ty to @chososdoll for beta reading as per ♡ Warnings: 18+, alcohol consumption, pro player!kunigami, pleasure dom!kunigami, consent check, overstimulation ♡, multiple orgasms (duh!), pussy eating ♡, fingering, slight nipple play, dumbification, size difference, vaginal sex, dacryphilia ♡, enemies to lovers?, pool sex ♡, skinny dipping, morning sex ♡, wake up blowjob, shush kink?, praise, reader has pubes! (landing strip), calls your pussy 'she', bullying mention, pet names (baby, princess). Words: 15.1k

“This seems a little…”

“What?”

“Sad.” you laugh, repositioning yourself on the couch beside your best friend as you watch your fourth horror film of the evening. She tuts, but not before gesturing that she needed a refill on her wine. So, you reach over to the side table and start taking off the lid for her. “I don’t know. It feels a bit desperate, no?”

“No!” Maisie objects.

She can’t remember the last time she heard you gush about a guy. And honestly, neither can you. It’s been forever since you went on a date. And it’s been even longer since you got laid. You shake the thought away as you pour the red liquid into her empty glass.

You’re happy alone, for now, you think. It’s not like you feel lonely. Admittedly, it isn’t the best feeling when you have to listen to all of your friends talk about their date nights or cosy nights in with their partners. It isn’t the end of the world, though. Maybe happy is a strong word to describe how you feel.

You’re content being alone.

“I’m not saying you have to marry the guy,” she continues, lifting the wine to her lips when you finish filling her glass. “Just meet him. He’s so sweet, and he’s gorgeous!”

“You fuck him then!” you laugh. She takes the opportunity to flaunt her engagement ring that she hasn’t even had for a week yet. You roll your eyes, but laugh, grabbing her hand so you can examine it again. It is beautiful. Are you a bad friend? Because the stab of jealousy you suddenly feel is almost painful. “I’ve never been on a blind date. I didn’t even realise they were still a thing, why won’t you just show me him?”

“I promise he’s extremely sexy. Trust me, if I wasn’t engaged I’d definitely take him for a ride.” she giggles, and you laugh back at that. She has similar taste to you, so you’re sure you’ll feel the same way when you see him. It’s intimidating though. You’re putting complete faith in her that she won’t fuck you over. And then, you realise, you’re thinking about it as if you’ve already accepted. Maybe it’s a sign. You should just take the plunge. “I don’t want to tell you too much and spoil the fun, but—”

“I’ll do it.”

“Y- really?!” she wiggles a little closer to you in excitement, her wine sloshing in her glass as she approaches. “I’m gonna text him now! Eeeeeeek!” she squeals, putting her wine down and picking up her phone. You don’t think you’ve ever seen her fingers move so fast as she texts the mystery man.

You want to pry for more information, but you know her too well. She’s stubborn. And the blind date aspect for her is too exciting. There’s no use trying to get her to spill. Though it doesn’t stop you from attempting to extract even a slither of information.

“How do you know him?”

“He’s a client.” she pays you no mind, perfectly manicured fingers tap away at her phone as she formulates a text message.

You’re surprised, for multiple reasons. You hadn’t expected her to answer that truthfully, let alone with no hesitation. It came so easy for her to say; which means one of two things. Either, it’s true, or, she had a well-crafted lie prepared in case you asked that very question. But if it’s true… that’s interesting.

She’s a social media manager. And while her clients aren’t necessarily A-Listers, they aren’t exactly nobody’s, either.

“Oh my God, is he a footballer?” you smile, widely. She peers up from her phone and you find it hard to read her expression. She’s always had a good poker face, but you’ve known her long enough to recognise her tells. And when she licks her lips, you have your answer. “AH! Is he rich? Oh I bet he’s gorgeous, fuck, is he shredded? Like—”

“The horny jumped out!” she laughs, and you playfully hit her arm before laughing along with her. She doesn’t say anything else about it. Now, she is fully committed to the blind element of the date. “I’ll drop you off, I’ll tell him what you’re wearing so he knows it’s you. He said he’s free Thursday night, does that work?”

“Sure.”

“Great! So 9PM on Thursday.”

“Um…” you hesitate. Fucking 9PM? You know you aren’t that old, you’re in your mid-twenties for crying out loud, but that seems very late. You’re usually tired by 10 o’clock. But you refuse to risk her chastising you for being boring. So, you suck it up with a beaming smile, “Perfect.” it almost hurts to say.

She claps, enthusiastically, before picking up her abandoned wine glass again. You’re both silent, fixated on the movie. But you spot Maisie out of the corner of your eye finish her drink in a hearty swig. You don’t comment, though, still trying your damnedest to focus on the movie. It’s too late, though, you’ve missed most of the plot since she started plotting and preparing your upcoming date. You don’t dare break the silence, though. She looks utterly engrossed.

However your own attempt at concentrating is thwarted when you hear her glass land a little too harshly onto her coaster. It doesn’t smash, thankfully, but you’re both staring at each other after that.

“I haven’t got a fucking clue what’s happening in this.” she admits, and you laugh, agreeing. “Let’s go plan your outfit for Thursday!” she suggests, throwing the blanket you’re sharing off her body before walking hastily to your bedroom.

This is so her.

She’s more excited for this date than you are.

“Deep breaths, you look gorgeous!” she assures you, holding your hand as you squeeze it again and again to calm your nerves. “For what it’s worth, by the way, he’s my sweetest client. He’s really respectful and kind, a lot of them can be rude but he’s never been like that.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! He’s really understanding.” she nods, eagerly. “Do you want me to come in and wait with you?”

“No, um… c-can you wait and let me know when he’s coming in? Or, just be here in case I get stood up.”

“Don’t even think that, he’s excited! He’ll be here. I’ll drop him so fast if he does, but I know he won’t.” she assures you.

You take another deep breath before smiling at her. She reaches over to give you a hug. It’s a tight, reassuring squeeze that makes you feel better for a fleeting moment. She waves like a child when you step out of the car, and she wolf whistles before you close the door.

If nothing else, at least you look good. You both agreed that there’s nothing like a little black dress, and your high heels accentuate your legs. They clack as you stomp across the pavement. And when you realise your steps are in time with your heartbeat you think it wise to slow down.

As the entrance to the restaurant comes into view, you look down the street and give your friend one final wave. Though, really, it’s meaningless. You know as soon as you sit down you’ll pull your phone out and start texting her in a panic. The maître d’ welcomes you with a beaming smile, checking the reservation list for the booking strategically made under Maisie’s name.

Still so committed to the blindness of the date.

It’s sort of exciting to think he doesn’t know anything about you, either. Though it’s scaring you slightly that he could take one look at you and turn around. And you won’t know until it’s too late. You won’t know until you’re being pestered to order after telling the wait staff that your date hasn’t arrived yet several times.

They’ll have to be polite despite how humiliating it is to tell you that other patrons need to be seated and seen to and you’re wasting their time. You’ll have to swallow your pride and leave. You can’t possibly eat alone after shouldering such a burning humiliation.

Oh God.

You text Maisie. And your fingers tremble as you type out the message. Telling her that you cannot go through with this and that you’re about to leave. A barrage of texts come through as she tries to give you a pep talk. But your anxiety flares and your leg begins to bounce as you try and shake the nervous energy from it.

Part of you thinks it’s best to stay sober, but your body is screaming differently. One drink won’t hurt, you decide, ordering two glasses of wine in case your date ever turns up.

And then you remember who he is. Or who he might be. He’s a client of your best friend, the social media manager. He must have some level of fame to need that representation. You’re pretty sold on the idea that he is likely a footballer. And through this thought process you manage to relax, if only a little. If he’s famous, he could be busy.

You decide to offer him some grace.

Though you should have given him the time to be really late before you got so worked up. You’ve only been seated for three minutes, after all. It’s not like he’s stood you up for an hour. You decide you’ll give him fifteen minutes before you leave. That’s a suitable amount of time to be able to leave and not look really foolish.

Every person that enters makes your heart race. Is it him? Only to realise it’s a couple or a double date or a family party in tow. You check the time on your phone, nine minutes have passed. Your cheeks fill with air as you puff it out slowly through pursed lips.

YOU: he’s not coming. MAISIE MOO 🐮: dw he just called me! he was stuck in traffic!!! YOU: rly? MAISIE MOO 🐮: yah! should be there any minute, have fun 😉

Your heart rate intensifies again as you see a man walk through the entrance and close an umbrella as he greets the maître d’. It prompts you to look outside, the windows are practically black save for a few lights on in the buildings across the road. But your eyes focus on the fat raindrops and their white outlines as they roll down the glass. How didn’t you notice the sudden torrential downpour?

Even from your seat at such a distance from the entrance you can see how large and well defined his hand is as he shakes raindrops from his orange hair. The colour makes you shiver, but you bat it away. It’s him, it has to be him. He’s alone, after all. And you see the maître d’ smile in your direction.

Hell, he might be happier that he showed up than you are.

You hear him laugh, and it’s deep, as he’s guided into the restaurant. And you can’t help but smile as you see him. He’s handsome, very handsome, and he has such a positive energy beaming from him. His face seems warm despite being chilled by the wetness of the rain. There’s pink in his cheeks and at the tip of his nose as he continues to smile kindly.

And, really, you’re speechless.

He smiles so sweetly, you almost didn’t recognise him, as he takes his seat opposite to you. And he thanks you for the wine. His eyes betray him as he looks at you with optimism. You know him, you’ve always known him. Those amber eyes that you’ve never seen in another man again since him. They seem so kind, now.

But you know better.

While he knows nothing.

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting,” he grins, looking briefly over the menu. “I got stuck in traffic and then I had a hard time in the car park.” he laughs, his thumb indicating he’s referring to the multi-story car park down the road. The one notorious for its broken machines and confusing layout.

“Well, you’re here now.” you smile, weakly. Tipping the remaining contents of your glass until it flows between your lips. It goes down smooth and you almost feel it swim directly to your braincells, feeling slightly faint until your senses return to you again. You blink it away, and your eyes squint at him suspiciously. “Excuse me, I have to pee.” you tell him.

“Oh, sure.” he smiles. “Should I order for you if the waiter comes by? What would you like?”

“Are you paying or are we splitting the bill?” you wonder, taking his menu from his hand before he can even register that it’s gone. Your eyes scan the menu quickly, not looking for anything in particular.

“I’m old fashioned, so—”

“Great, then I want this.” you tell him, pointing to the most expensive meal on the menu as you place it back into his grip. He chuckles, gently, before looking up at you. Your smile filled with anger and malice as you turn on your heel to find the bathroom. “Oh, and an expensive meal should be paired with an expensive drink, right?” you tell him, leaving before he can respond.

He watches as you approach a waiter, asking where you can find the bathroom. They point you in the right direction. But before you go, you point towards the table your date is still seated at, telling them you’re ready to order. You ascend the staircase to the second floor and slip away into the bathroom and out of your dates line of sight.

Your heart pounds furiously.

Little hands shake as you search for your phone in your purse. Christ, you could use a cigarette right now. You feel light-headed as you take deeper and deeper breaths as you pull up your texts, your fingers tremble as you lean against the sinks.

YOU: do you hate me? be honest MAISIE MOO 🐮: ???? what’s wrong? Do u think he’s ugly? YOU: no he isn’t ugly. ANNOYINGLY. UGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! MAISIE MOO 🐮: … MAISIE MOO 🐮: what? YOU: do u remember me telling u about a school bully 😊 MAISIE MOO 🐮: stop it YOU: YOU SET ME UP ON A DATE WITH MY BULLY!! WHAT DO I DO?? MAISIE MOO 🐮: NOOOOOOOOOO MAISIE MOO 🐮: OMG OMG OMG IM SORRY MAISIE MOO 🐮: FUCK YOU: I told him to order me the most expensive stuff on the menu bc he’s paying.. so I might just eat and dip MAISIE MOO 🐮: stopppppp omg lmk when ur done I will pick u up im so sorry ily

You sigh, putting your phone back in your purse. Is that really the right thing to do? Maybe not right, it’s morally wrong, of course. But is it the best decision to make? Do you really want to sit and eat a meal you probably won’t enjoy with your former bully watching your every move?

“Fuck.” you whisper to yourself. You decide to pee while you’re here, and you wash your hands for longer than you intended. It’s distracting you from your worries as you stare at yourself in the mirror and feel the comfort of the warm water encasing your hands as you clean them. You shake them when your done, little drops of water landing back in the sink before you go to the hand dryer. Maybe you’re stalling. You’re definitely stalling as you realise you’re drying your hands for far too long.

With one final look into the mirror, you take a deep breath and decide to return to your date. He smiles as he sees you descend the stairs again. And instinctively, you smile back. It’s a habit you’ve developed, not necessarily a bad one. But in this instance, it feels like a betrayal to yourself. You tell yourself to remain straight faced as you sit down, pulling your chair closer to the table.

“I’m Rensuke, by the way. I realise I didn’t introduce myself.” he grins, beaming white teeth almost blinding you as he awkwardly holds his hand out for you to shake. “Sorry, been a while since I had a date.” he laughs as he puts his hand down.

“I know who you are.” you laugh in return, though it’s not because of what he said. You just can’t help but find yourself amused over the fact he doesn’t recognise you. He laughs, too, looking a little uncomfortable all the while. He scratches his head as he nods, coming to his own conclusion.

“Oh, right. You’re a football fan, then? Sorry, you didn’t strike me as the type.” he continues, assuming you’re familiar with him through his fame. You hold your eyes shut for a beat too long, an annoyed smirk creeping its way onto your face as you try to bite your tongue.

“Sure, let’s go with that.” you comment, taking a swig from your newly filled wine glass. He cocks his head in confusion, but drinks with you. “So, why are you here? In London, I mean. I assumed you’d be… not here.” you ask, unable to control your tongue. There’s venom in your words, but not enough to kill.

“Um, I—” he clears his throat, coughing into his balled-up fist. His honeyed eyes find yours again, an incredulous look appears on his face as he formulates his thoughts in his mind. “I feel like I’m being set up.” he chuckles, though you can sense the worry behind his voice.

You take another sip from your wine glass. A sip turns to a glug as you empty the red liquid from the crystalline glass. You refill it yourself; sensing things are about to go south very quickly.

“This wasn’t really a blind date, right? Maisie told you who I am and you wanted to meet me. Am I right?” he wonders. And at that, you do scoff. And now you’ve lost all interest in holding your tongue.

“Oh my God. You’re so full of yourself, you haven’t changed at all.” you tell him, crossing one leg over the other as you rummage through your purse in search of a cigarette that will never appear. “I had no idea I was being set up with you. If I knew that, I wouldn’t have agreed.” you tell him without remorse. Defeated, you throw your purse down to the ground by your feet.

There’s a sense of shame flaring within you that you couldn’t keep it together until the end of your date. Of all the people roaming planet earth right now, why did he have to be your blind date? You stare at him as you observe his confused expression, he’s utterly bewildered by your words.

“I’m… we’ve met before, huh? I’m sorry, I’m having trouble remembering. I— are you a fan? Or… were you?” he asks, trying to decipher your identity. You scoff, again, preparing to stand to your feet. He reaches across the table and grabs your wrist. You look down at his large, veiny hand and then into his eyes. Your own vibrating with a slight twinge of fear. You feel like that teenage girl all over again.

“Let. Go.” you warn him, voice quiet through your gritted teeth. He relinquishes his hold of you instantly, apologising profusely. He’s just confused about what he could have done for you to hold such disdain for him. But your warning replays in his mind like a record on repeat. It’s like his fractured memories are forming again, becoming whole as he hears your voice again and again.

Let go.

You sounded so much weaker back then. You’re more defiant, now.

“Are you Ryusei Shidou’s little cousin?” he asks, eyes widening and brows raising in excitement. You sigh, sitting properly in your chair with correct posture as your eyes look angrily at him.

“No, I told you—”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re not really cousins your families are just close. I remember.” he smiles. His eyes almost dazzle as he looks at you, all recollection of his past hits him like lightning as he repeats your name again and again like a mantra. “Is that really you?”

“It’s really me.” you repeat, sarcastically. “Cancel the food order, you can still pay for the wine.” you tell him as you pick up your purse and prepare to leave.

“What? Why? We should catch up!” he tells you, an expectant look on his face as he hopes to convince you.

“I don’t want to catch up with you?” you tell him.

“But… why not? It’s been so long since we saw each other.”

You signal the maître d’ when you finally catch his attention. Rensuke looks disappointed as you continue to ignore him. Instead, you alert the man that you’ll be leaving early and to cancel your orders. But you make sure to tell him that Rensuke will happily cover the bill. And he does, hastily pulling out a wad of cash from his wallet as you depart the restaurant. He hurries after you, he’s in slight disbelief when he realises how fast you are. You’re almost halfway down the road when he finally exits the restaurant.

“Slow down!” he calls out to you, running right up behind you until he’s walking at your pace. He opens his umbrella and holds it above your head as you carry on walking. “You’re gonna get sick if you keep this up.”

“Leave me alone.”

“At least take my umbrella.” he requests, “I’ll go to my car and leave right now if that’s what you really want. But at least take it while you wait for a ride home.”

You accept, not too proud to take something that might offer you a small comfort in the absolutely obscene downpour plaguing the city. How quickly you’ve transformed from a vixen to a drowned rat. He must be loving this.

“I really would like to catch up with you, y’know…” he smiles.

You look up at him as the rain soaks his gorgeous gingery locks dampening and sticking to his forehead. Maybe he has changed. It’s been years after all. He’s grown up, it’s plain to see from his chiselled jawline alone. And he was always big back then. One of the tallest guys in your class, and so big and beefy to boot from playing so much football and training in the gym.

He terrified you.

And now, he’s bigger. An inch or two taller and completely filled out into an even more muscular physique.

“I can take you home, too. You don’t need to talk to me if you don’t want to… but, it’s freezing. You’ll be waiting ages for a taxi or for Maisie to come get you.” he speaks softly. And unfortunately, he’s right. You know all too well how tough it is to get taxis around this time, but it would be worse if it was the weekend so at least you’re thankful for it being a Thursday. You want to decline. You’re so ready to decline.

But for some reason—

“Okay.” you nod. You walk ahead, though, leaving him behind as you walk to the parking complex you’re pretty confident that he used. He laughs, hurrying after you again and allowing you to lead the way. It seems you know the area way better than him.

He guides you to the elevator and to the top floor of the complex. You aren’t sure what you expected when you step out. It’s not like you’re familiar with cars. But you were expecting some kind of expensive sports model. A Ferrari or something. Instead, you’re greeted to a black Range Rover.

It’s definitely outside of your pay grade, but you can’t help but feel a little disappointed.

“I thought you’d have a nicer car, Rensuke.” you decide to goad him, thinking it’s the least he deserves at this point.

“This is my incognito car.” he smirks, looking over his shoulder at you as he unlocks it. Of course he has an incognito car. You huff a little as he helps you up and into it, closing the door behind you. He circles around the back and you see him looking around in the boot before he comes to the driver's side and sits behind the wheel. He gives you a towel, presumably used for his training days, and tells you to dry off. “My nicer cars are at home, sorry to disappoint.”

“Oh, wait…” you snicker as a thought comes to you. “Were you gonna try and pretend you’re a nobody if I didn’t recognise you?”

His face fills with a pink hue as he feels completely caught out. And you can’t help but burst into hysterics. It’s tough for him, meeting girls who will actually like him for him and not his bank account. When Maisie suggested a blind date, he thought it was as good a chance as any to try and form a natural connection.

“Anyway, I’ll take you home now.” he tells you, trying to change the subject. “Sorry the date didn’t go to plan.”

You huff, again, as you try to dry your skin with the towel. Eventually you give up and use it as a horribly soggy blanket. “I can’t believe you even wanted to go on a blind date. Girls used to throw themselves at you in school. I told Maisie a blind date seemed really desperate.”

“Did we go to the same school? I was a virgin ‘til we left.” he informs you. You look at him, surprised, and he nods to clarify. “I was focused on football and shit, didn’t have time for girls.”

“Well, you had time to bully one girl.” you remind him, regretting saying it instantly. You thought confronting him would feel better than this, cooler. Like you can finally get closure and make him feel almost a fraction as bad as he made you feel back then. But instead, really, it just feels… cringe.

He offers a weak smile at you. The tension could be cut with a knife as he pulls out of his parking space and drives down each floor. He wants to say something, and really, so do you. Maybe you should just let the hatred go. It was a really long time ago, after all.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t a good guy back then, but I like to think I’ve changed a lot.” he speaks, eyes focusing on the road as the street lights and car beams blind him in the rain. “Your cousin bullied me, y’know. Dunno if he ever told you, but I took it out on you. That wasn’t fair though, so I’m really sorry.”

“He is not—”

“Yeah, yeah. I got it, princess.” he smirks, “I wouldn’t want to claim a relation to that blonde freak either.”

The insult towards Ryusei makes you laugh. You’re still close with him to this day, and ‘blonde freak’ is the perfect descriptor. But you don’t like to think of him as being capable of bullying. You had a feeling that was why you were subject to Rensuke’s torment each day, but you didn’t want to discover the truth. He always made it a point to vilify you for being related to Ryusei. Though you adamantly denied it each time.

“So, you were a prick to me for being related to someone I wasn’t even related to?” you respond, seriously. It’s a hard pill to swallow. Though you’re unsure any answer to his bullying would have made you feel better. It hurts to know you suffered so much, ultimately, for nothing. “Wish I told him you were picking on me, he would have fucking killed you.”

“Yeah, I don’t doubt that.” he laughs a little. It’s soft, but not weak. It’s almost like acceptance. As though he deserves anything and everything you’ll throw at him. “We’re good now, though, if we’re in the same place we’ll meet up for drinks. He’s a fucking good player, too. Always admired him. He kept me in my place for a long, long time.”

You stare at him as he speaks. How have you never noticed how soft his features are? He’s so relaxed, peaceful. He looks at you briefly when he notices you staring, but just as quickly looks at the road again as his cheeks fill with heat, reddened with embarrassment.

“I was immature…” you start, looking down at your shivering, wet thighs as you decide to accept your own faults, too. “It’s been a long time since then. And we were young, it’s obvious that you’ve changed. I didn’t give you a chance and I was childish.”

“No, no—”

“I’m serious. Ordering the most expensive stuff and going off in a strop, that was really immature so... I’m sorry.” you tell him, and he smiles at that. He can’t help but think you’re a great girl. He looks over at you again, smiling so widely his eyes close.

“You never gave me your address, y’know.” he reminds you, laughing when the realisation hits you that you’d let him drive off with no real destination in mind. “Is it too late for that catch up?” he wonders, looking at you with hopeful eyes. The orange and brown colour tainted with sparkles of red as the stop light reflects from them.

And you’re powerless.

You find yourself agreeing before your brain can even keep up with the way you’re shaking your head. No, it isn’t too late. And his smile is almost as blinding as the headlights of each car in the road illuminating the falling raindrops and deep puddles forming in the street.

“I know where we can go…” he thinks to himself

Bowling.

You never thought you’d be coming somewhere like this. Truthfully, you feel like a kid again. You remember skimming some money from your daily lunch allowance given by your parents to save up enough to go to the arcade every weekend with your friends. Saving the extra coins to use the DDR machine.

Let’s just say you mastered Captain Jack on expert difficulty.

“Another strike? You’re too good, puttin’ me to shame.” Kunigami laughs before picking up a ball and preparing for his turn. “You better not tell anyone you thrashed me; my reputation will be in tatters.” he warns you, jokingly.

You watch him as he takes a swing and hits all but two pins, leaving an awkward split between them. You hear him mutter under his breath but can’t decipher whatever it is he was talking about.

For some reason, you feel like he’s going easy on you. It’s not like he was a stranger to the arcade either back in the day. You always scarpered whenever he showed up with his friends, deciding it was the perfect time to grab a bite to eat and hope by the time you were done they’d be gone.

“I wouldn’t have invited you here if I knew you were gonna show me up like this.” he smiles, sitting next to you after completing his turn. “I didn’t know you liked bowling, thought you just liked using the dance machines.”

“You remember?”

“Yeah, uh,” he chuckles and scratches the back of his neck as he recalls the memories from way back then. “Me ‘n Raichi, remember Raichi? Anyway, girls on the dance mats… well, we were teenagers, so—”

“Oh my God you’re so embarrassing.” you interrupt him to put a stop to his stuttering.

“Look, it was a sexual awakening that’s all I’m saying.” he laughs. “And you were the best one, never missed a step. I remember we used to watch you for ages before we came in to scare you away.”

“Disgusting. Pair of perverts!” you lightly smack his arm as you continue to tease him. “I was good, though. Wonder if I could still pull it off…” you look at the machines in the distance as you contemplate restoring your former glory, you feel a newfound sense of confidence as you think about Rensuke finding you attractive back then.

You decide to go for it.

He follows you as you approach the machine, standing on the second player arrows right next to you.

“Always wanted to try!” he shrugs as you look at him suspiciously. “You can teach me.”

“No, I can’t.” you laugh, slotting two-pound coins into the machine so you can both play. “It’s just memory and hoping your feet will respond in time. Good luck, though.”

“Yeah, sounds like you have real faith in me.” he rolls his eyes, throwing his coat over the red metal bar behind him and rolling up his sleeves. You quickly kick off your high heels as you scroll through the songs. You hover over Captain Jack, and his face lights up as memories of you back then flow through his mind. “You always did this one. There was a different one I remember liking, though…” he tells you.

He starts to scroll through the songs, listening to them carefully as he searches for the one he remembers. Your eyes widen in horror as he settles on one, and he looks at you with pride.

“This one!” he exclaims, loudly.

“No, no way. I could never get the hang of it and I’m even more out of practice now. Afronova is too hard it won’t even be fun!” you warn him, but he wiggles his eyebrows at you teasingly. “Let’s do it la—” he interrupts you by pressing the select button.

“It can’t be that hard.”

“You put it on the hardest difficult, idiot. We’re fucked!” you laugh, but get into position. You’re both definitely going to fuck it up, but at the very least you’ll get a good laugh out of seeing him eat his words.

All colour drains from his face as he sees all of the arrows immediately come into view on the screen. He barely knows where to look let alone where to plant his feet. He looks at your side of the screen, though, seeing you miss a fair few moves yourself but you manage to keep up the pace enough to earn some words of praise from the machine.

If you’d know you were going to be doing this, you definitely would have worn a bra. You hold your arms across your chest as you continue to jump and follow along with the arrows as best you can. Kunigami, however, decided to give up and watch you instead. He puts his feet down a few times on ones he think he might actually be able to get.

You’re left panting by the time the song comes to an end and your final foot stomp leaves you breathless. Rensuke claps, proudly.

“Fucking hell.” you gasp for air, leaning over the red bar behind you. You think you might actually throw up. “You dick, you barely did anything either.”

“I was captivated by the master at work, you were amazing!” he praises you, and you can’t help but giggle. “I think we should do an easy one next.”

“Agreed…” you respond, flipping through the songs until you land on 5678 by Steps.

You both laugh and joke as you easily follow along with the routine on baby mode. And it’s easy to keep up a conversation with him like this. Discussing more memories of spotting each other in the arcade and what you got up to on weekends.

It makes you sad, in a way. Knowing how sweet he is now and what he was capable of back then. You could have been friends, great friends. Maybe even best friends. Though you’re sure Raichi wouldn’t have liked that.

He allows you to pick your favourite song for the final round. And, naturally, he can’t keep up with you. But this time he actually does his best. But for you, it’s like muscle memory. You don’t miss a single step through the whole routine and you don’t even feel out of breath when it’s over. Kunigami however is sweating and panting again, his already wet hair sticking onto his forehead again as the sweat clings to it.

“It’s getting late.” you tell him, “Should we get some gross bowling alley food and call it a night?” you wonder, moving to pick up your discarded high heels so that you can decide what to do.

He rushes by you and hops off of the step, snatching your shoes up before you can. You watch him, nervously, as he gets down on one knee while holding your black pumps. You’re too speechless to object when he helps you slip your feet back into them, so delicately. And he smiles up at you from his lowly position as you gain another six inches of height. He holds his hand out to you, helping you down the step after you take it.

You exhale, deeply, after feeling how unbelievably soft his hands are.

“I think I’ll get a hot dog.” he thinks, not letting go of your hand and he leads you up the small flight of stairs and into the eating area.

“Oh, the burgers were good last time I came here.”

“Ohhhh fuck you’re right, I’m getting one too.” he laughs, ushering you into a secluded spot to sit down. “What do you want to drink? I’ll run up and order everything now.” he smiles.

You quickly look through the drinks menu and tell him you want a strawberry and lime Kopparberg. He nods approvingly at your choice. You watch him walk up to the bar to order, unable to take your eyes off him. He’s chatty with the bartender, and you wonder what else they’re talking about. You see him grab a pad of paper and a pen from behind the bar, handing them over to Rensuke. And he smiles, happily, signing it for him. You see the man thanking him over and over before Rensuke walks back over to you.

“You only just got recognised?” you tease him.

“It’s rarer than you’d think, y’know.” he laughs, “he said his kid is a fan. No big deal.” he shrugs, sliding your drink over to you.

He moves on from the subject of his fame and status in favour of complimenting you again. Telling you how talented you are and how fun it’s been hanging out with you again. You end up telling him about your job. It’s nothing fancy but pays the bills. You tell him about how you pretty much fell into the job of doing admin work for a law firm and now you’re training to be a solicitor.

His face lights up as you tell him. Like he’s proud. Or maybe it’s a twinge of relief that he didn’t fuck you up mentally enough to ruin your life. Either way, his smile is contagious. It only grows wider when your two plates of food are put down in front of you. And you hate that you’re trying to eat politely. There is absolutely no way to eat a dirty burger in a ladylike manner. He laughs at you when a dollop of ketchup drops on your chest and tries to slither down your cleavage. But, ever the gentleman, he cleans it up quickly with a napkin.

“Sorry,” he hesitates after realising how intimate it is. He hands it to you and you finish clearing your chest. “Good call on the burgers, though, they’re so good.”

You smile as you chew your food, still doing all you can to appear polite and demure. But he doesn’t mind, or care. Canines tear his burger apart with ease, and he can’t seem to stop himself from smiling each time he looks at you.

“So,” you start, putting down the final bite of your burger in favour of taking a swig of your drink. “You perving over me, did that affect the bullying?” you wonder, laughing lightly as he almost chokes on his food.

“I wasn’t perving, it was, I— ugh. I always thought you were cute. But I wasn’t about to tell you that.”

“You thought I was cute?”

“Oh, like you didn’t have a big fat crush on me? I heard the rumours.” Kunigami laughs, drinking his beer as he leans back into his seat.

“No, no, rumours and hearsay. I told one girl I thought you were hot on our first day and it turned into a game of broken telephone and spread like wildfire. I hated you!”

“Sure, sweetheart.” he winks before taking another drink. “Don’t worry, I can keep a secret.”

You shake your head, opting to finish your burger instead of disputing it further. He does the same, leaning back and sighing with relief before taking another drink. He slaps his stomach, as if he’s gained a beer bellying rather than possessing the rock-hard abs that you know reside there.

“This was fun. Really fun.” he tells you, crossing his arms over his chest as he continues to get comfortable in the booth seat. You nod, agreeing. “What are we calling… this?” he wonders.

“What do you mean?”

“Was it just a ‘catch up’ or could it still have been a date?” he asks, smiling when your eyes widen and your face flushes with heat so much that you feel the need to fan yourself. You tell him that you’re just hot from eating, but another cocky eye roll tells you that he’s not buying that. “I’m hoping you’ll say it was a date, if you were wondering.” he speaks, low and gravelly as he leans across the table to tell you.

“Well, it was technically a date. Just not the location we’d planned.”

“I enjoyed this a lot more.” he tells you, looking around at all of the arcade machines and the people bowling in the distance. “I go to snooty restaurants a lot, I don’t get a chance to relax like this as much. So, thank you.”

“R-Right, no problem.” you smile, unsure of what to say. “I guess we should get going, then.” you finish, gathering yourself and clutching onto your purse as you prepare to shuffle out of the booth. He looks a little deflated, then, but he follows your lead.

He puts his arm around you as he guides you to his car, helping you inside again. He even gives you his jacket to wear when he notices you shivering. Though you opt to wear it over yourself like a blanket.

You look out of the window as he climbs inside and shuts the door. The rain stopped while you were bowling, but it’s still so dark out. It’s damp and dreary, it’s just miserable, really. But the cold chill of staring out into the black abyss leaves you when Kunigami turns on the radio. Some generic pop music you’ve never heard in your life, and it makes you feel old and out of touch. But the face he pulls says the same story, and he begins flicking through other stations until he hears something he recognises.

“S-So… do you live nearby?” you ask him, curiously.

“I do! Just got a new place a few weeks ago, I’m still unpacking.” he smiles as he envisions all of the moving boxes still piled up in each room. “So where am I taking you?”

“If you go to Maisie’s office I can direct you from there.” you tell him, clicking your seatbelt into place as he pulls up directions on his phone to the office. You look out of the front window when you hear raindrops begin to pitter patter again. “Um… Rensuke…” you start, hesitating to speak as you wonder what the fuck you’re even thinking of doing right now.

“What’s up?” he asks, eyes darting to you before he starts the car. The only thing that can be heard is the light drops of rain. It makes your skin jitter, you feel a chill as you look at Kunigami, the rain rolling down the windows in your peripheral vision and you feel thankful to be here and not out there.

You feel desperate. And you’re sure you’re going to humiliate yourself, but you don’t want the night to end. In a million years, you never would have pictured yourself enjoying the company of Rensuke Kunigami. He’s a busy man, you’re sure. He fit you into his busy schedule and you’re sure he has better things to do than spend all of his free time on a date. A date that is supposed to be drawing to a close.

But you don’t say that.

In fact, you barely say anything.

He can’t help but smile, though, knowing exactly where your next destination will be.

“I don’t want tonight to end, either.” he confesses. You feel your body become lighter as you realise he feels the same way. He starts the car promptly, and you note how sure he is about where he’s taking you. “Can I show you my new place?” he asks.

He’s so cocksure as he says it. His eyes don’t meet yours and you sense it’s because he knows you’ll say yes. And who are you to disappoint? You’re curious, anyway. You wonder if it will be as impressive as you’re envisioning in your mind. Footballers are rich, aren’t they? But maybe he isn’t a high earning player. Either way, you’re curious to see the home that your former bully has worked so hard for.

You lose track of time as you pull up to his house. Or mansion, you should say. He’s allowed through the security gate currently being manned by a member of staff, and he drives up and towards a three door garage. You can’t believe you’re visiting somewhere like this, it feels like a dream.

It’s something Maisie is accustomed to, Rensuke even tells you how confidently she strutted around and didn’t even bat an eyelid when she came over to discuss his contract. But you’re left speechless as more comes into view.

He doesn’t bother parking in the garage, pulling up directly to the stairs leading up to the front door. He’s out first, doing a little jog around your side to open the door and help you out.

“I didn’t bring you here to brag, by the way.” he insists.

“And here I was thinking you were trying to woo me into bed.” you laugh, and laugh harder the redder his face becomes. He holds his hands up defensively, waving them dismissively as he tries to assure you that was not his intention.

“I’ll take you home right after if you want! I swear I wasn’t—”

“Relax! I was teasing you.” you tell him, bumping into him as you enter the mansion. He offers you a drink, which you accept, happily. He pours you a glass of wine but gets himself some water directly from the tap. “You aren’t drinking?” you question, feeling a little uncomfortable that you’re drinking alone.

“I won’t be able to take you home if I drink more than I already have.” he chuckles, handing your wine to you.

He drinks his water, and you take a sip of your wine. His smile, that beautiful smile, it’s so disarming. You’re tottering on your heels to walk by his side as he encourages you to follow him. You feel as though time is flying when he takes you from room to room. There are still moving boxes in each room but it doesn’t detract from the lavishness of it all.

You laugh when he tells you there’s a tennis court out back.

“What are you going to do with a tennis court?” you giggle.

“Play tennis, I suppose.” he laughs back.

You don’t mind even a little when you feel his cold hand come into contact with the even colder skin between your shoulder blades. You mind even less when his hand snakes down your spine and settles in the small of your back as he guides you to the next room.

“Oh wow…” you express, hit by the warmth of the room. Your heels clack against the tiles with each step you take. You leave his side as you get closer and closer to your target. And you scream, smacking Kunigami’s arm as he rushes behind you and presses his fingers into your sides. “An indoor pool… you’ve really fucking made it.” you tell him, and he shrugs.

“There’s one outside as well.” he informs you.

“Now that was a brag.” you laugh.

“Shit, was it?”

“Absolutely.

You crouch down to the balls of your feet, letting your fingers swim through the pristine pool water. You aren’t quite sure how to describe the colour of it, but it’s mesmerising, as if sage and turquoise paint mixed specifically to fill this pool.

He takes your hand and encourages you to stand upright again. And he doesn’t let go as he leads you out of the room. The thought of going back to your poky apartment after being in here is harrowing.

It almost feels like he’s doing charity work.

There’s a rumble outside that causes you both to stop in your tracks. And once you enter the living room again, you see the heavy rain pouring down violently on the windows again. It’s louder than before. The raindrops are weightier.

He squeezes your hand as you yelp after seeing a bolt of lightning pierce through the sky. You look up at him, eyes full of grace as those honeyed eyes warm your soul for the umpteenth time tonight.

“There’s a weather warning from The Met Office…” he tells you as he checks the time on his phone. He lets go of your hand to look at you again, unsure of what to say. “I can take you home… before it gets any worse…” he whispers. His voice betrays him, though. You can hear the voice of a liar interspersed with his desperation to be a good guy.

He doesn’t want you to leave.

You don’t want to leave, either.

“It’s… dangerous, though…” you start, looking out of the window again at the gloomy weather.

“In that case…” he bends down, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear. “You should stay.”

You mewl, softly, as he not-quite kisses against your ear and the smooth skin behind it. And your head tilts, for him, so that he can press one final kiss against your neck. You don’t want it to stop, but he withdraws himself with a cheeky smirk while your eyes are heavy with lust.

It’s been so long.

Too long.

You might have lived your whole life up to now without being kissed like that.

He curls his finger, instructing you to follow him back upstairs. You put down your wine glass and hurry after him. He doesn’t wait, this time, leading ahead as he brings you to one of the bedrooms.

“Wait here.” he commands, and you do.

You walk up to the standing mirror against the wall and check yourself out. Trying to make sure you makeup hasn’t smudged or there isn’t food in your teeth. Your hair is still soaked, but that can’t be helped. When he walks back into the room you quickly back away from the mirror as if you’d been caught doing something wrong.

“The bathroom is just opposite to here.” he reminds you, pointing.

You look down at the pile of items he brought in from another room. There’s an unopened three-pack of toothbrushes and a brand-new tube of toothpaste. You can’t help but smile when you pick up the rolled-up ball of white, fluffy bed socks.

And you hate to admit how your knees go weak when you realise he’s gifted you with his football jersey to sleep in for the night. There are shorts, too, but you doubt you’ll need them. You want to keep your dress on for as long as possible. You’ll just sleep in the jersey and your panties when you’re ready.

“Thank you.” you smile at him. You notice the tips of his ears and his nose turn a blush pink as he sees you holding up his jersey and modelling it against your body.

He doesn’t say anything as he leaves the room, giving you the space you need to do whatever it is you’re planning on doing. You take the opportunity to freshen up, you pick up the dental hygiene products he’d thoughtfully left for you and head to the bathroom. You catch his figure slipping into his own bedroom and closing the door behind himself.

Your mind runs rampant now that you’re truly alone. Look where you are. You’re brushing your teeth and preparing to spend the night in Rensuke Kunigami’s house. Sorry, mansion. How the fuck did this happen? Your heart begins to race. Are you actually going to fuck him?

You can’t.

You can’t.

You can already feel your inner child cussing you out for letting him kiss you like he did, no matter how brief it was. It helps, slightly, to tell yourself you have a reason to spend the night. The weather. It would be dangerous to drive in weather like this.

But, Christ, you can feel your cunt throb with want as you think about him railing you in every room of the house.

“Stop.” you whisper to yourself.

You finish brushing your teeth and spit into the sink. And that is when an idea hits you. You splash your face with water and find some cleansing wipes in the cupboard underneath. You start getting ready for bed. Because that is what you should be doing. Sleeping, alone, until you can go home.

When you’re done clearing your face you decide to slip into the clothes Kunigami gave you to wear. Even the ill-fitting, downright hideous shorts.

You emerge from the room, and see Kunigami appear again with a wide smile.

“Hey—”

“I think I’m gonna go to bed.” you blurt out, awkwardly, and Rensuke stops in his tracks.

“Oh… really?”

“Yeah I’m… tired.” you lie, already turning back into your room. “Goodnight.” you call out, not bothering to look at him as you’re already shutting the door behind yourself.

“Goodnight.” he replies, the disappointment in his voice doesn’t go amiss.

You can’t.

You just can’t.

You can’t fucking sleep.

It’s closing in on midnight when you check the time, and you have a multitude of texts from Maisie blowing up your phone. You can’t bear to respond, though. Not after all of the horror stories you told her about Rensuke. The thought of her knowing that you’re spending the night at his house is just embarrassing. Even though it is innocent enough. You didn’t even kiss, really. You’re just sleeping until morning.

But you can’t sleep.

Your mind is racing with ideas of what could have happened if you didn’t say goodnight. What else could you have gotten up to if you hadn’t had your responsible brain hardwired in. You’re thankful for it, you are. But just because it’s responsible doesn’t mean it’s always right. Right? It’s been so long since you’ve gotten fucked.

Are you depriving yourself over something so trivial?

You throw off your duvet and prepare to leave the room. You’re not looking for him. In fact, you’re hoping he’s asleep, like you should be. But if he catches you roaming the halls, you’ll just tell him you were going to use the bathroom.

The corridors are cold. The chill in the air caresses your no longer covered thighs, you discarded the shorts barely any time after you said goodnight.

You aren’t sure where you’re going, you only have the flash from your phone to light the way. You’re sure he wouldn’t mind you turning the lights on, but you don’t want him to catch you if he is awake. And you don’t want the light creeping into his room to disturb him if he did actually manage to get to sleep.

When you find yourself in the same room as the swimming pool, you have no idea how you even got here. It’s like you were summoned. It’s a mermaid’s lagoon and you were drawn in by a sirens song.

You can’t remember the last time you swam. It’s not like the weather is ever nice enough for it, and you hate public pools. But this… it might even help you feel tired enough to sleep.

You look behind you and approach a set of loungers.

As you’re about to pull Kunigami’s jersey over your head, you screech. The sound of breaching water echoes through the room and you turn around, sharply, to see the source.

“Are you okay?” he bellows, his voice reverberating through the room. “Were you looking for me?”

“Jesus Christ,” you yell, laughing soon after. “I- I couldn’t sleep. You almost gave me a heart attack, I didn’t even know you were in here!” you tell him, truthfully, and he laughs. He swims under the water from one end of the pool to the other. You stand at the edge when he comes up for air again. “I just couldn’t sleep.” you confess, though it sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself. Your voice is quiet and mousy so that your words won’t carry throughout the room.

“Me neither.” he tells you, looking up at you as he does. You notice his eyes stray, catching a glimpse of your panties under his jersey before he shamefully looks away. But he looks, again, as he admires you in his jersey. “Why can’t you sleep?” he asks, the sound of water pouring is boisterous as he raises his hand and pats the edge of the pool.

You look at it, his hand, and understand what he’s doing.

You can’t.

You can’t.

But you do. You crouch down, submerging your lower legs in the warm liquid while it ripples against the back of your thighs and ass. Your breath hitches when you feel his hand on your thighs and raking up the sides. He stands up, his forehead resting against yours as water cascades from his soaking body.

You can’t bring yourself to care when you feel it splash up against you.

The only thing on your mind is how close he is.

“Why can’t you sleep, baby?” he tells you in hushed tones. The weight of his words and the way he speaks them makes your body limp. But he’s there to keep you upright. He angles his head so that his eyes, those honey pot eyes, can focus on you. Your words die on your tongue as you try and formulate a lie.

One won’t come.

“Why did you say you were going to bed when you weren’t tired?” he whispers, again, and you feel your resolve begin to crumble. He’s like an archaeologist, meticulously brushing at an ancient relic that he has no business handling.

He should have left you be.

“I… I don’t know, Rensuke.” you lie. And it’s an awful lie. He’s grinning from ear to ear as he hears you struggle to think of anything better than that. He knows. You both know. That’s why you can’t object when he pulls you closer. His hands force your legs around his waist. How did you get here?

“You look good, princess,” he tells you, tugging gently as his jersey, looking down at the strip that drapes like silk over your cute tits and perfect frame. “Want you to have it…”

“But it’s yours.” you respond. You’re a little taken aback by how demure your voice is as you speak. It’s like you’re instinctively making yourself small for him. Your inner child is protecting you, still to this day. He shakes his head at your words, though.

“It’s yours, I’ve got plenty.” he assures you. He keeps a tight grip of your thighs as he begins to walk you further into the pool. You wrap your arms around his neck and will yourself to remain some semblance of control. But he smirks, his nose touching yours before he pulls away again. “You’re coming for a swim… do you want to take it off?” he wonders.

Your eyes widen in horror as you recall your decision to decision to forgo a bra, knowing it would ruin your outfit. You shake your head, defiantly.

You can’t.

You can’t.

“I’m not wearing anything underneath…” you inform him. He chuckles, at that. In his mind, he knows. And deep down, you know it too. If you don’t find your willpower soon, your bare-naked form won’t be an issue. He closes his eyes and holds them shut, laughing when you repeat his name a few times in an attempt to get him to open them again.

“Take it off, ‘m not looking. You can hide under the water.”

Your movements are halted but for barely any time at all. He has a way of making you submit to anything he wants and you aren’t sure why that is. You were so mad at him hours ago. You didn’t even want to have dinner with him.

But look at you now.

Your legs are wrapped tight around his waist and you’re throwing his football jersey away. It doesn’t land on a lounger, but near enough. And you hold onto his shoulders as he begins to walk you both deeper and deeper into the pool. You don’t want him to feel you, not like that.

It’s getting out of hand.

You can’t stop it.

You can’t help it.

“You can open your eyes.” you tell him, and he stops walking. His eyes slowly open and it takes an incredible amount of restraint for his eyes to not wander beneath the water. And, you feign innocence. You aren’t sure what is wrong with you, because you know you shouldn’t have. But you look away, pretending something in the distance has piqued your interest.

You give him the opportunity to leer at you.

And he’s so thankful.

Even submerged and obscured by the greenish, dithering water, your body looks like an oil painting. To him, you’re a work of art and he’s grateful that you’re even letting him experience you in the slightest. But this… you’re a masterpiece, he thinks.

“Hey,” he speaks, he moves a hand from your thigh to your chin and you cling to him instinctively. He guides your line of sight back to him, looking back at you with a serious stare. “You don’t need to fight me, you know.”

Your heart practically stops at that. At the very least you think it skips a beat. But you hold his stare, eyes vibrating as you look between his as you search for an explanation. Are you truly so easy to read?

He sees you wrestling with your conscience. He doesn’t want to intervene, but what else can he do? He pulls you closer to him, a surprised whimper leaving you as you feel your bare chest come into contact with his.

It doesn’t register to him, though.

You don’t fight when his lips begin to trail your own. No pressure is applied, but you’re breathing is heavy. And he can’t deny that his is matching your own.

“I’m not seventeen anymore.” he reminds you, quietly. Your eyes weld shut and your self-preservation begins to scream at you. Imploring you to have some fucking common sense.

You can’t.

You can’t.

“I know…” you confess.

You look at him briefly, giving him silent permission to proceed. And he takes it. Without hesitation he takes it as his lips capture yours in a sweet kiss. You feel like you’re in a romance novel as it continues. It’s polite but not entirely tame. And for you, it’s been entirely too long since you last kissed anyone. You feel him smile into the kiss when he hears the softest little moan crawl out of your throat. But it fades, fast, when he remembers how lucky he is to be experiencing this.

He doesn’t deserve it.

He doesn’t.

And so, he takes it seriously. He brandishes the plumpness and texture of your lips to the forefront of his mind as you allow him to continue. He implants the way your body arches into his as his fingers trace up the curve of your spine, and how your mouth parts ever so slightly when he reaches the nape of your neck.

You’re perfect.

“Has it been a while? Since you had sex.” he asks, quietly, like it’s some sordid little secret. You feel embarrassed when you register what he’s asking. The insecurity creeps in and you try to pull away. He doesn’t let you, though, pulling you closer and reaffirming his interest with another searing kiss. “You’re so responsive, baby, that’s all.” he tells you.

You kiss him again.

And you feel pathetic. Like a dog humping a stuffed animal as you begin to instinctively roll your hips against him as you beg for more.

“Feels like forever…” you confess, hiding your words into another kiss and hoping he’ll forget you even uttered them. You hear him grunt when you sensually slip your tongue between his lips. He reciprocates, licking at yours as he carries you to the edge of the pool again. “W-What about you?”

You regret asking. Of course, the answer won’t be the same for him. He’s gorgeous. Beautiful, in fact. He’s rich, famous, successful. You’re another in a long line of women who throw themselves at him when given the opportunity.

You certainly aren’t naïve enough to think otherwise.

“Since I had sex? Not too long ago.” he responds, and it’s effortless. You knew. You fucking knew and yet you’re still feeling hurt. And you feel ashamed of yourself in the same breath. It doesn’t matter, really, you know who came before you and who came before him are irrelevant to what’s happening right now in this moment. But still, the feeling of embarrassment lurks. “I don’t remember the last time I fucked anyone the way I want to fuck you, though.” he finishes.

And now, you’re ravenous.

Your lips find his again. And the politeness has died, drowned in the pool along with your morals and self-respect, you figure. Your fingers grab and pull at whatever they can find. One hand finds purchase on one of his biceps and digs and squeezes into the hard flesh. The other tugs and pulls at his hair residing just above his undercut.

And he moans when you yank his pretty orange tufts. He breaks the kiss, laughing, for a moment after he recognises what you just stole from the pits of his lungs.

You feel your ass come into contact with the edge of the pool as he sits you down in the middle of a kiss. He breaks it, sinking down further into the water until you’re looking down at him. Your heart rate quickens as you feel deft fingers hook into the waistband of your panties.

And you can’t control your body, moving on autopilot as you lean back and keep your legs together as he steals the black lace from your body. He has no regard for where they land, but you hear a faint splash as they float on the surface of the pool. You won’t see them again, you think. They’re soon to absorb the chlorinated water and sink to the tiles framing the pool.

You sit back upright but find yourself unable to meet his eyes again. Instead, you stare up at the ceiling as he gently pries your thighs apart one by one. He’s slow, and careful, as he parts them. Soaking in the sight of your intricate folds.

“Pretty everywhere, huh? So fuckin’ pretty…” he expresses. You feel his thumb drift along your inner thigh to your pubis. A soft, low chuckle escapes him as it comes into contact with your pubic hair. A perfect landing strip guiding his eyes to your scintillating cunt. “You did this for me.” he states. He doesn’t ask, he tells you. And your eyes snap back to look down at him, defensively splashing him with water.

“I didn’t know it was going to be you,” you remind him. “I wanted to be prepared in case I—”

“But it was me.” he interrupts, wrapping his arms around your thighs after wiping the excess water from his face. “You’re letting me see. So it’s all for me, princess.” he continues. You don’t have a response, despite his logic seeming broken at best. It’s for him, now. But had you known who would be walking into that restaurant…

His breath fans across your heat as he places his thumb at the top of your lips and pulls back the hood of your clit. You gasp, letting your head sink as you lean back on your hands and rest your weight on them. And he spits on it, sucking at it soon after.

“’h my God…” you start, moving a hand to his hair, threading your fingers through damp, orange strands as he continues to suckle at your clit.

You’ve lost the means to feel embarrassment anymore as he looks up at you with his head buried between your thighs. Though you can’t deny the hot flush you feel as he makes a holy show of flattening his tongue between your lips and licking upwards from your oozing hole to your still exposed clit.

But you lose him, again, as he decides to focus.

He didn’t think he could burrow any deeper between your legs until you feel his still hooked arm drag you closer to the pools edge. You tug at his hair again when he finds his rhythm, and he emits another grunt that vibrates throughout your sex.

You admire how his muscles flex as his grip around your thighs intensifies. He feels how your hips begin to buck, like you’re getting there. Like he’s helping you get there but you’re still trying to run from him.

You can’t.

Not anymore.

He looks up at you with golden retriever eyes as you begin to moan. It’s quiet, until it’s not. Quiet, secretive breaths begin to turn into sinful, saccharine moans that echo right back to you as they bounce from the walls.

His nose wiggles and nestles against the perfectly formed line of your pubic hair. It tickles, but he’s always had an affinity for landing strips. It’s nothing he can’t handle. And it’s something that drives him wild.

You clamp your legs around his head as you start to dance along the cliffs edge of your orgasm. But he parts them, easily, his veins bulge in his hands as he grips tightly into the doughy flesh of your thighs.

“Ren- Rensuke—!” you cry out, unable to even warn him before he’s already dragged you into toe-curling bliss. And he prolongs it, divinely, not altering his ministrations even as you begin to shudder and scream. “S’too much, Rensuke, f-fuck…” you pant, looking down at him as he finally begins to slow down.

“’m not done, though.” he warns you. He liberates your left thigh from his grasp, but his fingers lightly trail down your inner thigh and he can’t help but marvel at the sight of your sensitivity. You twitch and spasm from the lightest of touch.

Though the whine that rips through your vocal chords is just as delightful. You couldn’t help it, you couldn’t even predict it when you felt two thick fingers seamlessly slot inside of your clenching entrance and curl up against your g-spot.

“Fuuuuuck, no, Rensuke, c-can’t.” you warn him, partially succumbing to light headedness as you feel him hone in and target your squishy slippery inner walls without remorse. You’re shivering. You’d like to think it’s just the exposure of wet skin to the stormy air, but it’s too much. You know it’s too much.

“You think too much,” he tells you, head sinking low again to continue feasting upon your gorgeously ruined flesh. Your pussy pulsates through the recent orgasm and the overstimulation. He’s going to be disappointed when he realises you can’t even fathom the idea of cumming again.

You just can’t.

Your body goes limp as he nudges a particularly delicate spot and presses down on your lower abdomen. The moan that leaves you at the feeling is downright pornographic. You can’t see, you can’t feel, but he’s smirking. He doesn’t relent, but his ego and his cock swell with pride as that salacious fucking moan plays on repeat in his brain.

The hand applying pressure ventures up north of your body. And your cunt clamps down on his fingers as his adventurous hand grabs the fat of your breasts and gropes your flesh. You moan, weakly, with no energy left in you as he tweaks at your nipple with his thumb and forefinger.

You’re pathetic, you think.

It was this easy for him to reduce you to this.

But you can’t help it. Your body is spent and you can feel another orgasm climbing through your nervous system. And yet, despite being wrecked, your body still finds the energy to clench and groan as you feel pleasure surge through you. Your toes curl, again, before they spread and widen and you try and gain some sort of control over what Rensuke is thrusting upon you.

Another scream is torn from you as you fall, no, you’re pushed from what seemed like a higher cliff than the first. Your back arches from the tile and further into Kunigami’s titillating touch.

“Rensuke, I- I…” you aren’t even sure what you want to say when you begin babbling. You manage to rest your weight on your hands again and look down at him. He showers your inner thighs with adoring kisses, they’re sweet and loving and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think you were falling in love.

He pulls his fingers out of your spasming walls and looks up at you. Your jaw is agape, slightly, as you feel him spit a perfect glob of saliva onto your clit without even looking. He needs to stop. You shake your head as you see the gears turn in his brain and you catch up almost instantly. You try to pull his wrist away but you’re weak.

“C-Can’t, Rensuke… no more!” you tell him, despite trying to sound firm, you just sound pathetic.

He can’t stop.

So he doesn’t.

He rubs the two fingers that were inside you just moments ago repeatedly over your throbbing clit. The smile sprawling across his face is that of a menace. He knows exactly what he’s doing. He thinks he knows your body better than you do.

And, hell, he might.

You say you can’t.

But why are you moaning for him?

“Doin’ so good for me, princess.” he tells you, kissing your inner thigh again as he continues his assault. His eyes droop as he admires how tender and overstimmed your pussy is. You can keep going, though. He’s sure of it. “You moan really pretty when you cum… ‘n I can tell she likes attention.” he speaks, it’s gruff but somehow still soft. He doesn’t look at you right away after he speaks. Instead his eyes remain focused on your tremoring cunt.

“I’m— I c-aaaan’t. Anymore, no more, ‘mmm hmrmf…” you struggle to even make sense in your mind of what you were originally trying to say as the nonsense you actually spouted takes root in your brain. He laughs, shallowly, as you try to reason with him.

You can’t reason with him, though.

Not when he knows better and your cunt is betraying your weak will.

“Goin’ dumb for me ‘cause you feel too good, huh?” he chuckles, tilting his head as he tries to command your focus on him. The way every inch of your skin trembles with pleasure makes his cock leak like he could never imagine. He’s glad he’s in the water so you can’t see what a pathetic mess your pretty noises alone have him reduced to. Though he makes a mental note to get the pool cleaned tomorrow. “Don’t need to think when you’re cumming. Jus’ cum for me. Can tell she wants to… just let go, princess.”

“Haah, hn- hnnnnng—!” you finish with a cry, you can’t believe he’s managed to make you cum three times in such quick succession.

Even as an adult, Rensuke Kunigami has found a way to reduce you into a sobbing puddle.

He frees you, eventually, allowing your body to catch up to what has just happened. He finally lets you close your legs and allow your twitching quim to recover, alleviating the pressure between them.

He hoists himself out of the water, though. And he climbs effortlessly above you. And, really, you know he’s always been a big guy. It’s arguably his most defining trait. But fuck, like this, while you’re shivering and spent, he’s fucking massive.

“Do you want to stop?” he asks. The soft, caring voice contrasts completely with his all-consuming presence. He lowers his head to kiss between the valley of your breasts and down to your navel. But he stops short and looks at you again. “We can, if you want. But… I’m having fun with you.”

You should answer. He’s asking for consent, after all. Your lips part and reseal repeatedly as you try and decide on what to say. You’re having fun, too. But can you handle it? Can you handle more of this?

“You’re so… big.” you whisper, and you don’t know where that even came from. You giggle when you see him smile at your silly comment, and he immediately has a retort spring to mind.

“My cock matches, y’know. Why d’you think I made you cum so much?” he tells you. “Well… I like making pretty girls cum anyway, but you’ll thank me. If you wanna keep going, that is.”

“I want to fuck… want you to fuck me, ‘Suke.” you admit. He lifts your back away from the cold, damp tiles and pulls you into his embrace. You receive one final, show-stopping kiss from him as he pulls down his swim shorts. You keep your eyes on him, not having the confidence to look down below.

He grabs your chin, his thumb helping tilt your head and guiding you to look at his length. And, embarrassingly, you gasp. He chuckles, kissing your forehead and you look between him and the impressive size he possesses. It’s scary, honestly, looking at how thick and heavy his cock is and what it will feel like inside.

There isn’t a doubt in your mind that you’ve never seen a dick like this and you surely won’t again. He’s big, thick. And long to boot. His tip is prominent but soft. Like you could suck it into your mouth and hear a pretty pop sound once it’s in. You could run your tongue along the ridge and make him hiss from the pleasure.

The thickness is akin to an energy drink can. Eight long inches threaten to invade your apparently well-prepared walls, but still, you aren’t so sure. His veins aren’t prominent, but they’re there. You see them running along his shaft in different directions. And then you do find one. One throbbing, prominent vein as you admire each and every inch of his heavenly member.

You’ve never had an affinity for balls. Seeing them as a nuisance that are just there rather than anything you have any interest in pleasuring. But for him. For those. You could be persuaded. They’re heavy, God they look heavy but every inch of him does. He’s a large, imposing man and his balls are no exception.

It turns you on to no discernible degree to think about how full and aching his balls must be after you’ve teased him all night. How they’ll tighten and release as he floods you with his cum when he’s through with you.

“Need you, Rensuke, n-now.” you tell him, unable to function without feeling him inside of you for a second longer.

A brief panic shoots through your veins as he pulls you back into the water like a siren. But he stops short of pulling you to your death.

At least, in the literal sense.

You might experience your fourth little death as soon as he sticks his tip in you.

The water sloshes around you as you’re pushed into the pool wall. Your legs sit comfortably on his hips as he guides his still leaking cockhead into your greedy cunt. You moan in tandem as you become accommodated with each other.

“You’re so cute, s’fucking tight, princess.” he tells you, silencing any response you might have had with an ardent kiss. You try to pull away, but he doesn’t let you. And it’s calculated, of course, as he pushes further and further into your sticky walls.

It wasn’t enough.

Three wasn’t enough.

The thickness of his length would have you screaming if he wasn’t keeping a firm grasp on the crown of your head so you couldn’t pull away to voice how the stinging stretch was affecting you.

He doesn’t let go until he’s in. Fully in. You feel him kiss your cheeks and now you can finally moan, pant, screech if you so choose. But as your breathing comes out in hiccupped sobs, you realise he isn’t kissing your cheeks.

He’s kissing away your tears.

“Took me so well, gorgeous.” he mutters against your skin, still continuing to softly peck his lips against your damp skin. “You’re so good… such a good girl, princess. I’m so proud of you, bein’ so good f’me tonight.”

It makes you cry more, though you aren’t sure why. You can barely think about what he was like back then. When he was cruel and callous for no viable reason. But you’d never have heard such sweet sounds from him like you’re hearing now. You’re a good girl, and it’s for him.

Your tongues tangle into a clumsy fervour as he starts to move his hips. The sound water lapping at your bodies is deafening. He lifts you up, slightly, so that he can pound himself into you without restriction.

Both of you find it hard to keep kissing romantically and consistently the harder and faster he batters his cock against your insides. Your lips touch but your mouths hang open. And he’s looking at you. Really fucking looking at you as he drinks in every facial contortion you make from the feeling of his cock bullying itself against your self-destruct button.

He loves the way you bite your lip when you’re close. How your eyes cross and you look so damn wet and pathetic as he brings you to ruin again. It’s a sight he’d have tattooed on the back of his eyelids if he could. He’s been around the world and still couldn’t name a more beautiful sight.

Maybe you could be a porn star, he thinks. If both of your careers fall through, he knows what a good fallback will be if you were so inclined. You’re perfect. Every inch of you, top to bottom, is perfect.

You can barely hold onto consciousness as you feel his heavy breeder balls slap relentlessly against your ass. But you hang on, you have to when he grabs the lower half of your face and pinches your cheeks until your lips pucker.

“Is my good girl about to cum?” he asks, and you nod, dumbly. “That’s it… stay with me. Wanna watch your pretty face while you cum again.” he orders.

You breath faster, fighting against the crushing urge to close your eyes and let go of your body completely. But you’ll do anything he asks, in this moment, so long as he keeps calling you a good girl.

“Can I cum inside?” he asks, thrusts increasing in pace as he jackhammers into you. He’s close, too, but he wants you to cum first. It’ll tip him over the edge if you cream him like this. It’s all he wants. It’s all he needs. “Or should I p-pull out?” he struggles, the thought of spraying your body with his seed appeals to him just as much.

“D-Don’t pull out, Rensuke, don’t you dare…” you command. “Hnf, ah, I’m! Haaah, aah, f-fuck—!” you finish.

“Shit, shit.” he follows you right after. It seems that he would have came inside whether you wanted him to or not. “Ohhhh, fuck, baby. Fuckin’ perfect pussy… take it.” he finishes, too, his pace only slowing by a fraction as his cock spurts rope after rope of pearlescent cum into your cunt.

The sound of water calms after some time. The waves lap around you, carefully, as you breathe and sweat after such a vigorous workout.

It surprises you, a little, as he kisses you after the fact. You thought he’d turn a little colder after he got what he wanted. But you underestimate him again, clearly, as he kisses you sweetly.

“That… amazing.” you tell him, not possessing the energy to fill the rest of the sentence. The start and end are enough for him to figure it out, though. And he cradles your body in his arms as he walks you both to the shallower end of the pool with the staircase. “’m so tired.”

“I know, baby.” he hushes you, you feel like a child in his hold. You’re so little in comparison and you’re still surprised he didn’t break you. He manages to effortlessly pick up his jersey and walk you towards the pool room door. “Gonna get you cleaned up, ‘n we can go straight to sleep.” he promises.

You can’t remember the last time you got such a good nights sleep. Really, you barely remember even falling asleep. You remember Rensuke washing your body and your hair in a warm bubble bath. But you don’t remember him putting you to bed.

Waking up in his arms was a nice feeling, though.

So nice you felt compelled to wake him up with a reward.

He stirred in his sleep as you began to kiss down his bare chest and further down his body. He’s a light sleeper, you came to realise, as he woke up with a cheeky smile on his face and asked what you were doing.

You took his cock between your lips and showed him just how thankful you were for his attentive treatment and aftercare from last night. And you may have wanted to give him a reason to remember you if he wanted to consider going on another date.

He got close.

Really close.

Until he pulled you away to sit on his cock.

“’m not wasting my cum in your mouth when I can cream this cunt again.” he smirks, helping you straddle his hips before lowering yourself down onto that perfect fucking dick again. And he watches you ride him, his jersey riding up slightly with each rise and fall of your hips.

“L-Love your cock, Rensuke, s’fucking big.” you moan like a slut with no remorse. You can’t act coy anymore. Not after last night.

“S’all yours, baby.” he tells you. His attention is stolen from observing your enjoyment when he hears a buzzing on the side table. He reaches for it, and you don’t even notice while your eyes are screwed shut.

And he realises it isn’t his phone.

It’s yours.

He moves slightly, so that he’s sitting upright, covering your mouth as he answers the call. Your blood runs cold as you feel the cold glass of your iPhone screen pressed against your cheek and your ear. Your eyes widened in horror as you look down at Rensuke for help.

“Hello?!” Maisie.

He uncovers your mouth, allowing you to speak. “H-Hey, Maisie.”

“I texted you so many times, where have you been? Did you get home alright? I was so worried!” she yells at you. You can tell she’s in her office pacing back and forth on the tiles as her heels click with each step. She’s pacing. She’s furious.

“S-Sorry! I was just, it was a weird night!” you try and answer simply without lying or giving too much away. But your heart quick starts again as Rensuke holds onto your hips. You're mouthing and no no no! Butit’s ignored as he nods sadistically. He holds tightly onto your hips until your flesh spills between his fingers. And he fucks. You whimper pathetically as you seal your lips in a bid to keep quiet. He really is a sadist, he looks like he’s going to cum to the sight of you desperately trying to maintain your composure.

“I cannot believe I set you up with your old bully, that is so my luck.” she laughs. “Did you just get a taxi home?”

“A-Ah! Uh, yeah I know, c-crazy.” you struggle. “S-Sort of. Eliza was in the area so she picked me up.” so much for not lying.

“Oh, really? That’s good.” she replies, though the click clacking of her heels comes to a stop. “Weird, though, considering I rang all of the girls to see if any of them had talked to you. None of them did.”

“T-That’s… weird.” you reply, eyes rolling back as you try and maintain a level head and think of a way to get off the call. “Um, I uh—”

“I’m at work, just looking through some of my client's details. I’ve got Rensuke’s address up on my screen right now.” she starts. Oh fuck. “You know what else is on my screen?”

“W-What?”

“Find my fucking friend you little slut! Oh my God!” she screams, though you can’t tell if she’s actually screaming or if it’s melded into laughter. “Did you fuck your bully? You whore!”

“I— It’s complicated, nngh!” your free hand flies to your mouth as you spasm through another mind-altering orgasm shatters through you. Rensuke keeps a firm hold of your hips as you tighten around his cock. You hold the phone as far away from your face as you possibly can, though it doesn’t matter. Not when Rensuke cums in you again with no regard to his volume.

“Oh… my God.” Maisie speaks, though you barely hear it. You bring the phone back to your ear and sigh. You already know you’re busted, there’s no point in hiding it now. “I thought I heard a mattress squeaking. Have you just fucked?!”

“Hmph… yeah. Sorry.”

“I’ll pick you up later if you need a lift, I want all the details you absolute slut.” she laughs, sitting down in her office chair as she actually starts to do some work. “How was the date though, was it good?” she asks, knowing she’ll have to go soon.

You look at Rensuke’s pink, sweaty face and wide smile. You melt into the way his thumbs stroke into your sides so tenderly. And you smile back at him, a newfound confidence you’ve never felt before.

“It was… fucking amazing.”

© 2023 rinhaler

[hoshifighting]

Hello! I love your work 🥹 I hope you are well

Just wanna ask your thoughts on how the seventeen members would react to see you driving speed / you being fast on connected apps like ‘Find My’ heheheeheh

Thank you ❤️

a/n: thank u sweetie, i loved it!! im doing well!! <33 i hope i understood well.. like a gearhead girlfriend?... made w/ luv ❤️

WARNINGS: mentions of breakig the speed limit

seungcheol: “yo yo yo, slow the fuck down, we ain’t tryna die today!!” he’s literally shouting through the app, and you could almost see him gripping the imaginary 'oh shit' handle in the backseat. he loves you, but he’s lowkey shitting bricks rn, “bruh, this ain't fast & furious... i swear if we crash, it’s on you.”

jeonghan: sigh “baby, why you gotta be like this?” he’s too cool to actually panic, but you can feel him judging the fuck outta you. he’ll make you feel like the most irresponsible person alive while also making it clear he’s kinda impressed. “next time, let me drive so we don’t both end up with speeding tickets… but like… you kinda look hot doing it though, not gonna lie.” he’s smirking on the other side of the screen.

joshua: “ok but like… are we trying to break a record or what?” he’s nervous but trying to stay calm, but you can tell he’s clutching his pearls behind that smooth tone. “maybe, uh, we could slow down just a tiny bit? just a suggestion...” definitely trying not to freak out completely, but he’s one bad swerve from straight-up praying.

jun’s all for it, honestly. he’s got his phone up to show the speedometer on his end, clearly thriving. “you wanna hit 120? bet, i’m down, let’s fucking go!” jun’s just living it, probably snapping selfies like it’s no big deal while the car’s shaking at 90 mph.

hoshi: “wait—WAIT! y/n, no no NO, what the hell?? slow down before i shit my pants.” he close his eyes, dramatic as fuck, genuinely convinced y’all are about to fly off the highway. nearly crying as he clutches his phone. “i got shit to do tomorrow!! i can’t die today, not like this!”

wonwoo’s just... chillin’. he doesn’t really say much at first. just sends a simple, “you good?” text. he’s the only one calm in this whole situation. when you don’t respond right away, he hits you with, “bet you won’t keep up with the guy in the ferrari tho...” and you’re like, oh shit. he’s egging you on. he's vibing with the chaos, but lowkey wants to see how far you'll take it.

woozi: “y/n, you better chill the fuck out.” straight-up scolding you. no fluff, just pure frustration. jihoon’s too rational for this speed demon shit, and he’s already calculating how much the damn fine’s gonna be if you get caught. “if you crash, you better hope i’m not in the car, ‘cause i ain’t helping your ass.” classic jihoon—pissed, but still kinda impressed at your audacity.

seokmin: “YO, SLOW THE FUCK DOWN!” pure panic in his voice,like he’s watching a horror movie. “do you wanna give me a heart attack? holy shit!!” he’s basically pleading with you at this point, full-on hands shaking, worried sick like a damn mother hen. “i’m way too pretty to die like this, please, for the love of god, just slow down.”

mingyu: WELL THIS MAN HAVE LICENSE FOR IT, no fear at all. “you drive like a fucking beast, lemme hop in the car next time.” he’s fully living for the thrill, no reservations whatsoever. he’s gassing you up like no one would. adrenaline junkie.

minghao’s already over it. deadpan as fuck. “why you gotta stress me like this? i’m way too zen for this shit.”

seungkwan: “OKAY STOP! STOP! i didn’t sign up for this kinda trauma. you tryna die young, huh?!” yelling in the app for you to pull over before he passes out from sheer anxiety. “i’m never getting in a car with you ever again, swear on my life.”

vernon: “i mean, if we crash, we crash. kinda sick though, right?” no panic, no complaints, just lowkey impressed. “but like… how fast can you actually go?”

chan: “y/n, this isn’t a fucking video game!” poor baby is stressed out, clenching his fists like his life’s on the line. “i can’t do this. my heart can’t handle this. you tryna give me a heart attack?!” genuinely scared shitless. “you really gotta slow down before i fucking pass out in the toilet bro”

[roturo]

BAD IDEA, RIGHT?

INUMAKI TOGE X READER

SUMMARY: meeting up with your old friends sounded like a good idea, turns out lying and saying you and your ex ended up as a friends would include him there, so that was a bad idea of yours.

WARNINGS: unprotected sex, subspace, exes!to lovers, use of curse energy for sex, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, use of sign language, almost caught, after care, dacryphilia.

Life has been great.

Ever since you broke up with Inumaki things have been just fine. Both of you decided to end up as friends. Which might be awkward between the both of you but when you’re together around other people it wasn’t that bad.

You decided to focus on your training, even though it became a little bit too much to be at the same place with your ex… so you decided to live alone and start a new life. College is a new experience and it has been really fun! Training at home wasn’t as effective and efficient as training with Gojo-sensei and your friends… but, you felt more comfortable this way.

Some days you felt like exorcizing some curse and just walked through the city and found one.

Just for fun.

That’s what Maki told you. ‘Let’s hang out all of us together like the old times! Just for some fun!’

And everything was going great! But you never expected Yuuji to enter next to Inumaki into Maki’s room. You haven’t seen him in like four? six months? It’s been a while…

And to say he looked even more handsome than last time is understandable. Half a year and he grew up. He seemed taller than last time, his shoulders broader, and his hands…

You scold yourself for staring too long at him. His eyes locked with yours and a small awkward silence was in the room. But thankfully, Yuuji couldn’t tolerate silence and proposed to order some pizza and talk about how things have been.

You told them about your new friends at college, how you've been auto-training yourself, and how you felt like a new person.

Inumaki felt nostalgic. Watching you grow up and create a life without him made him sad. Thinking about the old times and how you talked to him for hours about having a family. How you stayed with him even if he couldn’t communicate himself like others, he loved you, and he missed you.

You missed him too, and when Maki asked if you were comfortable right now, even if your ex is literally like less than two meters in front of you, you said, ‘yeah! why not, we didn’t end on bad terms! can’t do people reconnect? I only see him as a friend.’

The biggest lie you ever said.

But the both of you knew those glance you gave each other, you needed the other… So when Maki accompanied Yuuji for the pizza you couldn’t control yourself.

And I mean like you couldn’t control yourself literally, he controlled you. He took his hands off.

‘Follow me.’

Your body was moving without your permission. Following Inumaki to what you assumed was his room. A tingly feeling dressed as nervousness was appearing in the low part of your tummy.

You felt anxious? excited? euphoric?

You missed him so much it was hurting, so when you got inside his room, thinking about if what’s going to occur was correct, you stared at your phone for some second before murmuring to yourself ‘fuck it, it’s fine’ —the first thing you did when you had control back was send a text to Maki.

‘I’m sleeping in another place.’ Maybe she’ll think you didn’t feel comfortable enough and needed to leave.

But maybe that’s not the case. You might sleep on someone else's sheets.

‘Inumaki…’

‘Shh… Undress yourself.’— You wanted to first kiss him, but he seemed eager to have you— and how could you say no? Maybe he wasn’t even controlling you and you were doing it for your own taste.

Feeling vulnerable in front of him— he grabbed you by the waist pulling you closer to his clothes body and started kissing you like a hungry man— You missed his touch and he missed yours.

Coming here wasn’t a bad idea… right?

Wrong.

Your body was sore and twitching of how many times he has made you cum. He’s been eating you out for hours now— with just one word making you cut whenever he felt like it. Making symbols on your pussy of what you suppose it’s his curse marks— Your eyes were full of tears, vision blurry and feeling dizzy.

‘N-no more ‘Inu..’

‘Osaka ‘ Was all he said, keeping a straight face before watching you before continuing eating you out— ‘Squirt.’ Your body shook before your vision turned black and everything felt a thousand times more— his fingers inside of you, slurping your fluids out of you. It was a disgusting mess— but he loved watching you turn into a mess thanks to him. It was his mess.

He never abused so much of his power on you, but this time it was different. He needed you, he wanted you.

Once he felt he got enough of your poor and used pussy, he got up— Watching you trying to keep your eyes open. Makeup ruined, hair tangled and tears coming down your eyes. You felt fucked out— feeling sore on parts of your body you never thought could get sore. Trying to plead for your sanity was met with deaf ears.

He started unbuckling his belt, and turned his middle and ring finger down, making the sign ‘I love you’ before signaling he missed you so much and needed you. Sign language was a common thing between the both of you because of his cursed technique. Just a few words, because it’s like destiny brought the two of you together because in some ways you always knew what the other needed.

He teased your cunt with his dick before inserting it in. You were on missionary, him on top of you while he admired the mess you became. He thrusted inside of you with no warning, your fucked up pussy with no need to make it even more sensitive for you to cum, he just started searching for his release.

When he watched you not even being able to say coherent words, tears just streaming down your face, your eyes almost closed and moans coming out of your mouth was enough for him to cum inside of you. The fucked up image of you— thanks to him— will be forever engraved in his mind. He needs you, he needs to be back together.

He groaned at the feeling of your cunt hugging his cock once he came, his body shaking before laying down beside you. Heavy breathings filling the room, he looked back at you and found you staring at him too. A smile adorned his face, moving his body so he could hug yours— playing with your hair and giving you small pecks he heard a knock on his door. 

He supposed you’re still in a subspace and grabbed his boxers, slightly opening the door so only his face was visible— a confused blushed Yuuji was in front of his door. ‘Inumaki, the pizza is here. We can’t find Y/N though… Do you know where she is?…’

‘Go with Maki.’ Were the words he let out, Yuuji’s body moved without his permission, leaving him alone. 

He looked behind and saw you taking small breaths, your chest going up and down— He smiled to himself, before he grabbed a warm cloth and and started cleaning you up— He searched for some candy he used to have in his room since you were always craving them, he grabbed one water bottle too and repositioned you so your now resting on his pillows. He sat next to you, playing with your hair, waiting till you came back to reality.

Once you opened your eyes, the first thing you saw was Inumaki staring at you— Eyes full of love while he played with your hair. You moved so your body was not sitting on his bed, you noticed you’re wearing one of his t-shirts and your panties— You supposed he put them on, he touched your arm and gave you some water and your favorite candy. You looked back at him— surprised he still had some of them here, you smiled at him and drank some water.

You didn’t notice he grabbed a notebook and was writing something until he gave it to you.

‘Can we get back together? You’re all I need, all I love. I would kill any curse, person, thing who tries to hurt you, everything… just to have you back in my arms.’

[ddejavvu]

can I request a drabble or fic about Curtis sister getting bullied?

sigh. writing curtis!sister stuff is so nostalgic and personal to me. inside of me lives a thirteen year old girl who desperately wanted them to be my brothers. this is for little meimei <33

send me requests for the outsiders!

--

You'd been expecting Steve to pick you up from school, but there must have been a rush at the DX, because it's Two-Bit's creaky old car that chugs along the back street. That's fine too - you could use a laugh after today.

There's a certain level of teasing that you've come to expect because of your social status, but lately some of the older girls around school have made it their personal mission to go above and beyond the standard. Just today they'd begun making fun of the keychain attached to your bookbag- a mickey mouse pendant that had been a gift from Two-Bit himself. Stolen, of course, but not from just any corner store. No, that one had come from a big fancy Disney store, in a big fancy mall hours outside of Tulsa.

He'd been grossly proud of himself when he'd given it to you for your birthday, but according to those older girls, Mickey Mouse was for kids, and that made you one.

You'd tucked it safely into the front pocket of your bag, but Two-Bit notices its absence when you slide into the front seat like there's a neon sign advertising it.

"Hey, kid, where's the keychain?" He nods at your bag, "Did it break off already? Damn Disney, makin' cheap, lousy shit."

"No, it's- it didn't break." You settle into your seat, "I just- took it off."

Two-Bit's hands tighten slightly on the wheel, and he clears his throat, attempting to remain nonchalant.

"Oh. Any reason?"

You think you've hurt his feelings. He's quiet in a way that he usually isn't, and there's no trace of his signature brand of playfulness.

"It's not that I don't like it, Two." You reassure him, reaching over to brace your hand against his leg briefly. He glances at it, throwing you a smile, albeit a wounded one. "I just- I had it on my bag this morning, but then- I dunno, some girls were teasing me about it. I just wanted to avoid trouble."

You'd been attempting to relieve him of any hurt, but now he looks like he wants to hurt the girls you're talking about. He doesn't go to school very often, choosing instead to bum around at your house with a beer and a slice of cake. But you have a sinking feeling that he's going to have perfect attendance from now on, as your personal bodyguard.

"They're pickin' on you?" He asks, glancing over at you from the side of his eye as he tries keeping his focus on the road.

"It's not that bad," You lie, shrugging and reaching into your bag to put your keychain back where it belongs, displayed proudly on your zipper, "They're just high school bullies, Two. Don't worry about it. And don't- don't tell Darry. Please?"

"I don't know, kid." Two-Bit's jaw tightens, shifting as he turns a corner towards the east side of town, "I don't like this. No one should be picking on you. And not to brag, but I know how much you like that keychain. If it's bad enough for you to hide it..."

"It's not that bad, I just- I'm trying to make sure it doesn't get worse. I'm fine," You vow, but there's still a pool of dread in your gut whenever one of the girls' faces flashes in your mind.

"I'm comin' with you tomorrow to school," Two-Bit decides predictably, "And I'm gonna see it for myself, and if they're really layin' into you, I'm rallying the whole gang. Including your brothers. Let us help you, kid."

"No, please-? I don't wanna make it a big deal," You gush, "Two-Bit, everybody's stressed enough. Darry barely has any time to sleep, Soda's worryin' all day about Sandy, Ponyboy's gotta study or Darry'll be on him, just- I don't need to make things worse."

"You aren't makin' anything worse." He frowns, pulling over to the side of the road to turn towards you without the threat of crashing, "Those girls are. Listen, kid. Your brothers care about'cha. We all do. And all of us'd be happy to stick up for you. You know how much fun me 'n Steve would have rippin' into a bunch of mean girls?"

"Don't tell them yet." You insist, but you feel the sincerity of his speech, "Just- wait and see tomorrow. You'll probably scare 'em off anyways."

"I'll wear my best Mickey Mouse shirt," Two promises, his usual shit-eating grin now triumphantly returned to his face as he merges back into the road, "And by that I mean my only one- 'nless you count the old gym shirt my sister drew on."

--

You're nervous about walking back into school with the Mickey Mouse keychain hanging from your bag once more, but you're flanked by an unknowing Ponyboy on your left and a determined Two-Bit on your right, so you know no harm will come to you. Two-Bit is, in fact, wearing his Mickey shirt beneath his leather jacket, practically a dare for anyone to come and say something to him about you.

You think you're in the clear until the three girls you'd been cornered by the day before spot you, and neither Two-Bit nor Ponyboy notice their expressions, but you feel their gaze on the back of your neck. You're sure your keychain is bouncing around in plain sight from the movement of your stride, but with your two bodyguards around none of them dare to say anything.

Two-Bit drops you off at the door to your first class, raising his eyebrows knowingly but subtle enough that it slips past Ponyboy.

"'Kay. I'll meetcha here after class. Wanna sit with us for lunch, kid?"

You nod, thankful that he phrased it as an invitation so that Pony is none the wiser. In reality, you'd been planning on clinging to Two-Bit's leather jacket the entire lunch period. You're glad you have an excuse to do so, now.

You're lucky enough to have B-track classes today, which puts you in different groups than yesterday's A-track. It means that your only possible encounters with the three girls are in the hallways, but Two-Bit makes it impossible for anyone to pick on you by tailing you to each of your classes.

You think you've made it out alive- hopefully forever, by the end of the school day, and the ride home in Two-Bit's creaky little car feels miles better than it had the day before. Ponyboy's silent in the backseat, but that's usual for him, and you think nothing of it as you enjoy the ice cream that Two-Bit buys for the three of you.

It's when you're home that things really go downhill, sitting quietly around the dinner table when Ponyboy speaks for the first time all night.

"Y/N, why didn't'cha tell us you're getting picked on?" He raises the question quietly, but it's just for show- you know he's irritated, and Darry and Soda both straighten in their seats.

"What?" You feign innocence, digging your fork through the spaghetti on your plate, "What are you talkin' about, Pony?"

"These girls were talkin' about you in my history class." Ponyboy grumbles, and shit, you hadn't even considered the possibility of them sharing a class with your brother. You know he's smart for his age, that he was placed a year ahead of his grade level, but you hadn't connected the dots that they'd be in the same classes.

Darry's focus is on you now, but you know him and Soda are both still waiting for Ponyboy to continue. You avoid all three of their gazes, scrutinizing your spaghetti instead.

"They said they were planning on cornering you today. But they said since Two and I were with 'ya, they couldn't. Why didn't'cha tell us they were bothering you?"

Darry shifts forwards in his seat, more intimidating than he means to be. He's worried, you know that, but that's what you'd been trying to avoid.

"It's nothing serious, Pony." You try placating him, the whole table for that matter, "They're just mean girls. I'm handling it fine, really."

"They were talkin' about cornering you?" Darry finally speaks up, his voice unconsciously booming, "Y/N, I don't think you could've handled yourself then. Now I know you don't like makin' a scene but they could've hurt you. How many of 'em are there?"

"Three." You mumble, "Darry, I- I would've got out of it okay, really! They're real preppy, put-together girls, they probably wouldn't fight. Pro'lly just wanted to call me names or something."

"I don't want someone callin' you names, either." Soda frowns, his own plate forgotten as he focuses on you, "Did you tell a teacher about it?"

"No, it's- it's not that bad! Really, guys, you're overreacting. It's just high school drama. It sounds worse than it is."

"I don't like it." Darry decides, a note of finality in his voice that you're not happy about, "That ain't okay. And you know we'd back you up, kiddo. Pony, Johnny and Steve are there every day, and if you told Two-Bit, I'm sure he'd show up too."

"I did tell Two-Bit," You admit reluctantly, and rush to finish before your brothers get offended, "He got it out of me on the way home yesterday. That's why he came today, to make sure none of 'em got a hold of me."

"See, you do need a bodyguard," Soda reasons, leaning back in his chair, "Maybe I oughta take a day off from work. Drop you off tomorrow, give 'em the death stare or somethin'. If you want, I can have Dally tag along, that'll really scare 'em."

"No! No, don't take the day off, and- and don't show up! Especially not with Dallas," You groan, "This is why I didn't tell any of you guys. You have enough to worry about, you don't need to get involved in girl stuff."

Darry kicks your foot under the table, not hard, but reassuring, "Don't say that, kiddo. It ain't just 'girl stuff' if you're gettin' cornered at school. And we'd be more worried if you came home with a black eye. Now you let us all pick you up from school tomorrow, m'kay? Keep the boys with you, and Pony, keep an eye on those girls in class to see if they talk any more about Y/N."

"I will." Pony vows, and Soda finally relaxes, going for another bite of spaghetti at the same time that he tries speaking.

"Steve and I'll whip 'em if they act out," He promises through a mouthful of food, eliciting a sickened laugh from you, and two groans from your other brothers.

"Chew your food, Soda," Pony grimaces, and Darry elbows Soda unimpressed.

"Thanks, guys." You mumble, bashful for needing help but grateful your brothers are so willing to step into the ring for you, "It's- it's really not that bad but thank you for helping me anyways."

"Anytime, kiddo," Darry promises, a rare smile crossing his face, "Can't have the best of us gettin' beat up at school."

"Hey! The best of us?" Ponyboy glares at Darry, stabbing his spaghetti, "What happened to my big brains?"

"I dunno, I think you lost 'em when you fell from the top of the drive-in fence," You smirk at your youngest brother, still older but easiest to tease, "You hit the ground pretty hard."

Soda erupts into laughter at the memory, and Ponyboy continues his vicious assault on his dinner while Darry smothers a laugh, trying to keep the peace.

"But we mean it." Darry looks at you again, a hint of that former sternness crossing his face again, "If you need muscle, you got it. Ain't nobody gonna mess with my kid sister."

"'Specially not if Dallas shows up," Soda snickers, "Them girls'll go runnin' for the hills when they see him helpin' you in the car."

"Tell him to behave himself," You groan, "I don't need to be called into the office 'cause my brother's friend flashed a heater 'round the parking lot."

"He never behaves himself," Pony scoffs, "But if them girls are smart enough, they'll stay away from you before he has to get crazy on 'em."

"They'll stay away from you," Darry vows, and you believe him with the way the muscles in his strong arms flex as he leans forwards on the table, "Or they're gonna have to worry about somethin' worse than Dally."

[goldenwilliamson]

Could you do one with leah x reader where reader is a new signing and she catches Leah's attention and Leah, all cocky, asks her out repeatedly, but the reader was warned about Leah's fuckgirl fame and always turns her down, but obviously ends up falling for Leah in the end, pure fluff please ;)

Pd: you write soo goooodd

bad idea right? | leah williamson

pairing: leah williamson x reader

a/n: thanks for the ask!! i had fun with this one. reader is australian obviously inspired by kyra's signing after the world cup, but with a very different vibe to KCC's annoying little sister energy hahaha. also this is an ideal world where ACL's don't exist and leah was in training at the start of this season.

summary: reader signs at arsenal and leah has her sights set on her, but reader tries her best not to let herself fall for leah.

word count: 2.9k (got a little carried away with this, but i loved it)

When you got your call up for the World Cup, you had expected that some clubs might take an interest in you, along with all the other younger Australian players who hadn’t yet gotten the chance to play in such a large tournament. What you didn’t expect however was that the club you grew up supporting would be making a deadline day signing for you. When you heard that Arsenal were interested after the World Cup, it was just the cherry on top of what was the most surreal experience of your footballing career so far. Obviously with Steph Catley and Caitlin Foord already being at the club, you had felt entirely comfortable about making the transfer. You had already been playing in the WSL for a few years, but you’d always told yourself that if Arsenal ever came knocking, you would go there without a doubt. 

Being such a fan of the club and playing against Arsenal in the past, you already had preconceptions about many of the girls. Before you had your first training, Steph and Caitlin had come over to your new flat to help you settle in and put together some furniture, and you took it as an opportunity to get all your final questions out of the way. You had already spoken to them endlessly about the culture of the club for the players, but you hadn’t spoken too much about the other girls. All that they had told you was that you would fit in well with the team, and that was good enough for you at the time. 

But now that your time for actually joining the team was getting very close, you decided you wanted to learn more about some of the girls you would be spending the majority of your time with for the foreseeable future.

‘What’s Kim like as a captain?’ You asked first, and both Steph and Caitlin sung her praises while explaining that underneath her hard front is a big softie who wants the best for everyone. 

‘I’m not going to lie, I’m nervous about not clicking with anyone,’ you said next. 

‘I can’t imagine you ever not getting along with anyone,’ Steph said, ‘You hit it off with everyone you’ve ever met.’

‘True, I reckon you and Leah will get along well but,’ Caitlin adds. 

‘Really?’ Your voice is higher when you say this, a little surprised. 

‘Oh yeah, she’s going to love you. She’s already spoken to me about how she’s excited you’ve signed,’ Steph says and you feel very flattered. Leah is a player you’ve admired for years, and a defender you’ve dreaded coming up against in games. Even though you’ve played against her, you wouldn’t expect her to have noticed you, let alone be excited about you joining the team which she cares so much about. 

‘What’s she like?’ You ask, genuinely curious. 

‘She’s somehow managed the perfect balance of being super fun and lighthearted, but also stern and serious,’ Steph says. 

‘Is she single?’ You find your mouth moving before your brain has the chance to tell you not to say that. Both Steph and Caitlin laugh at your forwardness, but they don’t seem all that surprised. 

‘Leah is undateable, she meets a lot of girls, but they never stick around for long,’ Caitlin says truthfully, and for a moment you feel a bit of disappointment.

‘Because she’s not a good person?’ You ask, unsure about why no girls would want anything with her. In your eyes she’s a catch. 

‘No,’ Steph says quickly, ‘She’s an amazing person, she just doesn’t want them to stick around for long, it’s always more of a one night thing for her.’

This surprises you, and it does make you see her a little differently. In the media she seems very mature, being the England captain and all. You can’t really imagine her going out, meeting girls, and having one night stands, but then you remember you really don’t know the girl at all.

A few days later you arrive in London Colney for your first training session of pre-season, carpooling with Caitlin and Katie. You’d already met Katie a few times now, which made your arrival feel a bit smoother. You don’t take it for granted having Steph and Caitlin around to welcome you and make sure you’re connecting with the other girls. 

Before you go into the first meeting of the season with Jonas, you get to meet all the other girls. While someone might find this overwhelming, you are unbelievably excited to finally be introducing yourself and meeting all these players you respected so much. 

Everyone greets you warmly with a hug and kind welcoming words. When you approach Leah she flashes you her fantastic smile and you can’t help but mirror her expression. You keep in mind but that she is used to being able to charm girls, and you try not to fall victim to it. 

‘Hello, mate. I’m Leah,’ she says in her relaxed voice, giving you a hug hello. 

‘Hey, good to meet you,’ you say.

‘Likewise. I’m so glad you’ve signed, you’re going to be a great addition to the team,’ she says and you thank her graciously, feeling good knowing you have a little bit of support behind you, from Leah Williamson of all people. 

From your first meeting, you can see what everyone else sees in her. She’s a beautiful girl, there’s absolutely no denying that, and she carries a confidence that radiates off of her. It’s both incredibly attractive and intimidating at the same time. You know immediately you can’t let yourself go down the rabbit hole of developing a crush on her, because you know all too well that it would consume you completely. So for the first few weeks at the club you don’t spend too much time with Leah. You don’t avoid her, because you don’t want to be rude, but you don’t let yourself go as deep as you normally would want to. Usually when you find yourself around someone attractive you’re asking questions, trying to get to know them. You decided the less you knew about Leah the better. 

You didn’t realise that Leah had noticed the way you hadn’t been giving her as much time and attention as you’d given some of the other girls, and the way that you had bruised her ego. One day Leah and Jen were peddling on the exercise bikes in the gym next to each other while you ran on the treadmill on the other side of the room. Leah watched you like a hawk as you took your long, easy strides. 

‘She’s great isn’t she?’ Jen said, following Leah’s line of vision.

‘Oh god yeah, she’s gonna be our secret weapon going into this season,’ Leah says without a beat. She’s been watching you every day, witnessing how well you’ve managed to establish yourself within the team already, earning respect from all the players. She would be very surprised if Jonas didn’t start you in the upcoming games, because you're the perfect number 9 that the club has been needing. 

‘Lovely girl too,’ Jen observes and Leah nods.

‘I haven’t gotten to know her that well, I don’t think she’s too interested in me,’ Leah says, and even though she tries to hide her contempt, Jen reads her like a book.

‘Finally someone who’s not interested in you, whatever will you do?’ The naturally sarcastic Scot makes fun of Leah’s obvious dissatisfaction with her ability to have you in the palm of her hand. 

‘Shut up,’ Leah pushes her shoulder. 

‘You’re seriously crushing on her aren’t you?’ Jen says.

‘I wouldn’t call it a crush,’ Leah scoffs. She would never admit to having a crush on someone, it’s not in her nature at all. When it comes to dating she has always preferred to be detached and aloof. 

‘What would you say then?’ Jen asks.

‘I guess you could say I’m intrigued by her,’ Leah says, immediately cringing at the way it sounds coming out of her mouth.

‘Alright stalker, don’t go following her home now or anything,’ Jen says, unable to contain her laughter seeing Leah in this new position. As Jen makes this comment you step of the treadmill and pull off your headphones and Leah quickly shushes Jen. 

‘How was the run, Y/N?’ Jen calls out to you from across the room, and you smile, striding in the direction of her and Leah as they continue to peddle. 

‘Yeah not too bad,’ you nod, ‘How are the bikes treating you guys?’ 

‘I think I zoned out watching you running over there,’ Leah says, and you don’t know whether or not to interpret it as a flirty or not.

You laugh lightly and shake your head, ‘Glad I could be of service.’ 

‘You do look proper graceful for someone doing sprints,’ Jen says.

‘Well now I know who to come to when I need a pick me up, thanks girls,’ you look at them both, your ego boosted. You had no clue how you looked running on the treadmill, but you couldn’t have imagine it was anything impressive, or graceful. You tell the girls you’ll leave them to it as you turn to walk out of the gym, thinking over Leah’s little comment for quite some time. 

A few days later you’re invited round to Beth and Viv’s place for a little dinner. It’s not a huge group there, just yourself, Steph, Caitlin, Leah, Jen, and Kim Little. Despite being one of the younger girls in the squad at 24, you’ve found yourself feeling most comfortable around the girls a little older than you like Jen and Beth. Even Viv who was notoriously introverted had made an effort to get to know you. 

The night is lovelier than you could have expected, chatting with all the girls with ease, like you’ve known them all as long as you’ve known Steph and Caitlin. At one point you decide to go into the kitchen to refill the water jug, and when you’re standing over the sink, Leah slips into the space with you. 

‘What are you after?’ You ask casually.

‘You,’ Leah says and you turn around to look at her with a confused look on your face.

She’s leaning against the kitchen bench, eyeing you confidently, but you’re determined not to let her work her ways on you. 

‘Whatever for?’ You ask innocently, turning back to watch as the water fills the bottle in your hand. 

‘Why’ve you been avoiding me?’ Leah says as you flick the tap off. To buy some time you rest the bottle on the bench and grab a tea towel, wiping off the water that spill down the sides of the bottle.

‘I didn’t realise I had been,’ you shake your head, not looking at her as you lie through your teeth. 

‘Maybe it’s in my head then,’ Leah shrugs.

‘Maybe, but I’m sorry if I haven’t been giving you enough attention,’ you say sarcastically, knowing that your words would cut deep for a girl who usually has her ways with girls. 

‘That’s alright, why don’t I just take you out for dinner, that way I’ll have you all to myself,’ Leah suggests and you scoff.

‘Sorry, as fun as this is, it’s not really me Leah. I’m not interested in being another notch on your bed post,’ you say, and while you might feel rude saying this to anyone else, you feel like you could chip away at Leah’s ego all night and she would remain confident as ever. 

Leah sighs with a smile on her face, ‘Worth a try,’ she says and you two walk back to the table, acting like nothing ever happened. Jen Beattie is the only one who catches the smirk on your face and the ever so slightly defeated look on Leah’s. 

She tries again a couple of days later after training, asking what your plans were for the night.

‘Going home,’ you say, stating the very obvious fact after a long and tiring training session. 

‘Want some company?’ Leah asks. While you would’ve said yes to company, feeling like anyone being around was what you needed to settle into your new home, you knew you couldn’t say yes to Leah.

‘Uh, not tonight, I’m going to go home and fall into bed,’ you say.

‘Tomorrow then?’ Leah offers and you shake your head at her persistence. 

‘You’re relentless,’ you say, smiling at the cocky look on Leah’s face. Slowly it’s getting the better of you. 

‘I prefer the term driven,’ she says and you laugh. 

‘Don’t let me stop you, it’s doing wonders for my confidence,’ you say.

‘Oh don’t worry, I won’t,’ Leah assures you as you part ways walking towards your cars. You ignore her once again, but of course she occupies your thoughts the whole drive home, and the rest of the night. 

There is even a moment after you eat your dinner that you consider asking her to come over, knowing exactly what would happen if she did. You groan out loud, realising that she had already won this battle. That’s why the next time she tries her luck, you fold. 

It was the perfect setting, all the Arsenal girls and the Matildas that lived around London were out at a bar celebrating Caitlin’s birthday. Leah was of course locked in on your every move, and you knew it. Every time you glanced in her direction, she was already looking at you. It was driving you crazy, making you feel all hot and bothered. As if dancing was the cure for your overwhelming feelings, you remained among the girls throwing their hair and arms around to the music. 

A classic ABBA song comes on and Leah makes her way into the people moving on the dance floor, subtly making her way towards you. It’s unsurprising when you feel her hands on your hips, you’d been waiting for it at this point. The music is loud in your ears, drowning out any remaining inhibitions. You turned to face Leah with a look of defeat, as if you were forfeiting to her. You let your arms fall around her neck as she stabilises herself with her hands on your hips. She leans in close to speak directly into your ear and you can feel her breath on the top of your neck, sending a small shiver up your spine.

‘You’ve been driving me nuts,’ she says, giggling slightly with her admission. 

You lean into her now, planting a tantalising, gentle kiss on her neck before murmuring, 'I still don’t want to be just another notch on your bed post.’

Leah pulls back and looks at you with a face that tells you that you can believe her when she shakes her head, ‘This isn’t about that, I just want to know you.’ 

‘Do you say that to all the girls?’ You ask, still harbouring some slight concerns about Leah’s notoriety when it comes to her sexual partners.

‘I haven’t felt this way about anyone in a long time,’ she says. Even though you really don’t know her all too well, you know her words are genuine, and you know that you feel the exact same way. There was no denying the chemistry between you both, and the similarity in your personalities. You remember the way Caitlin and Steph had predicted you two would get along, and you know it’s true now.

‘Me neither,’ you tell her honestly, and you can see from the grin on her face that it was exactly what she wanted to hear. 

‘How about we get out of here and go find some food,’ Leah suggests and you nod eagerly, dying to step out into the fresh air with her to speak freely without trying to talk over the music. 

‘Great idea,’ you say. With that you and Leah say your goodbyes, not feeling too guilty about leaving as it was nearing midnight already at this stage. When you step out into the night it feels like you’re back in the real world, and your feelings about Leah were still very much there. 

She takes your hand in hers and leads you up the street and the two of you walk until you find some fried food to sink your teeth into. You talk the night away and get to know Leah behind the persona she has created. This Leah is endlessly caring, a listener, a deep thinker, incredibly witty, and much more vulnerable.

That night you two end up back at your North London flat to save her the trip out to her house in St Albans. To your surprise, you don’t sleep together, but you’re pleased with that. Part of you was still waiting to see what Leah’s intentions were, and she proved that she really did just want to spend some time with you. You were happy to give her your attention now.

 ’You’re nothing like how I expected,’ you admit to her as you lay face to face in your bed, your legs stacked on top of each other. 

‘Better or worse?’ Leah asks, smirking at you in the darkness of your room.

‘Better,’ you say with a smile, leaning in to finally kiss her properly. It’s gentle, but there is clear passion behind it. You hum, satisfied as you pull away, ‘Definitely better’.

[rottingworship]

The smut prompts 72 and 80 ☝️😈

Withhhhh

Hoodie😳

MWAAH THANK YOU FOR THIS REQUEST!! This is actually longer than most prompts i've ever written ever omg... I got carried away... may write a part 2 involving tim :3

As always, prompts are from here! Divider is from sister-lucifer

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI!, fingering, innocent!reader, hint at corruption kink sorta (?), praise, finger sucking, F!Reader

Prompts: "There is no way anyone is that innocent." "What? Does that feel good?"

“There is no way anyone is that innocent.” Brian switches through the channels on the TV.

Tim shrugs, really not caring. “Ya never know.”

“She’s a killer.” Brian huffs. “We are all killers.”

“Not all killers fuck.” Tim rolls his eyes. “If it’s that big of a deal, why don’t you ask her?” Tim has had enough. He gets up and walks to his room. Brian is thinking about it. About how sweetly you interact with them. How oblivious you are to some of their jokes. The look on your face when some of them click.

The door opening brings him out of his thoughts. You walk into your home with a large smile on your face and a small bag of groceries in your hand. You tell Brian ‘hi’ and walk to the kitchen. His eyes don’t leave you.

You turn back around and your eyes meet his. “You alright, love?”

Brain tenses. Love… It’s what you have always called him and Tim both. There never seems to be any ‘love’ behind the word. But Brian wishes for there to be. He’s sure you're just being nice and friendly. You always have been. Somehow, you stay so loving…

“Yeah.” He stands up from the couch and begins to walk towards you. You don’t think anything of it. You put some of the groceries up and begin to walk past him. Brian stops you in your tracks, his hand grabbing your bicep. The way look up at him leaves him reeling. Brian holds you there. Without saying a word.

“You good?” Your brows furrow, but you don’t pull away. Your eyes show no sign of fear of him hurting you, but they do show extreme confusion.

“Is this an act?”

His question causes you to pout. “What? Is what an act?” You really don’t get it.

“You’re so-” Brian sighs. “Nevermind. I gotta go.” He is overwhelmed. It doesn’t take a lot for you to realize that. Brian is quick to leave your home. You try to get that interaction out of your head and finish putting up groceries. As you walk to the bathroom to finish putting things away, you remember Tim’s home. You walk to his room and knock.

“Hey, it’s me.” As soon as he gives you the okay, you open the door. “Is Brian okay?” It’s the first thing you ask. Tim looks at you and groans.

“What’d he do?”

“He asked if I was acting,” It comes out more like a question than anything, “and then, he just- He left.”

Tim snorts, trying to not smile. “He’s fine. Probably relieving some stress right now.”

“What’s he stressed about?” You cock your head at him.

“You.” It’s all he gives you. You are sent into a spiral. Your face contorts with confusion and you gasp. You stumble on your words, stuttering something out, before Tim saves you. “It’s not bad, he thinks about you too much though.”

“Too much!?” You are dumbfounded. “How much is the normal amount?”

“Probably the amount that I think about you.”

You cannot catch a break. You let out a groan and close Tim’s door, leaving him alone. You have no more questions for him. You want to call Brian and ask if he’s alright, but you aren’t sure it’s Brian that will answer. You sigh and go to your room. You already took care of your business (or the operator’s), bought groceries, and put them up. It is time for you to relax. And now you can’t.

You walk to your bathroom and decide to shower. You have had a long day, and maybe the hot water will help relax you. As you shower, all you can think about is Brian; his questions and whatever the fuck Tim meant about him. You cannot lie, Brian is always plaguing your mind. Even more so now. Does he like me? You think as you wash your body. Does he fucking hate my guts? You begin to stress. If he hates me, that would suck, we kinda have to work together for the foreseeable future. You want to explode. You finish up your shower quicker than normal and decide you cannot be in your room. You get dressed and head to the living room. You lay down on your couch and sigh. You flip through the channels and land on some corny horror movie. You keep it there.

Before you know it, you are dozing off. You wake up to the door of your house opening. You sit up and rub your eyes. “Who- Brian?” You make out his frame, and then his hood and mask. “Oh, it’s just you, Hoodie.” You lie back down on the couch and close your eyes. You have not interacted with Hoodie as much as you have Brian, but you still trust him.

“Wake up.”

The way he says it has you sitting up immediately. You look at him with wide eyes and your mouth is slightly agape. “What the fuck?” Your legs swing over the side of the couch and Hoodie sits down beside you. “Is this about earlier? Because I’m still confused.”

“You really are oblivious… You know that?” You cannot figure out his emotions. You can’t tell if he’s smiling or annoyed, and it’s bothering you. “You’ve got Brian wrapped around your finger, and you are completely oblivious.” Hoodie doesn’t move. You scoot down the couch, confused by the suddenness of everything. “I see what he sees in you, though.”

“What?” You sound groggy still. “What does he see?”

Hoodie scoots closer. You freeze, swallowing hard. “You’re an angel.” Hoodie says it as if you should be aware of that already.

“I assure you,” You put a hand up, “I am no angel.” Something clicks. Your face contorts again, changing from confusion to an awareness. Awareness of everything Hoodie is saying. “Is this about not understanding some of the jokes I hear? Because, I’ve never been around guys a lot-” You look away from him, embarrassed. “I was pretty sheltered until I turned eighteen. And, y’know, moved away. I’ve never really had many friends-”

“It’s not an act…” Hoodie sounds so primal suddenly. It causes chills to run down your spine. The hair on your neck is standing on end. You swallow hard and let out an awkward laugh. You can’t look at him. “It’s okay,” He coos.

“I think about you- Uh Brian, a lot…” You twiddle your fingers, biting the inside of your lip, “I don’t know- I can’t begin to tell you-” You can’t see his face, but he looks absolutely animalistic. You blink a couple times, collecting your thoughts. “Can you kiss me?” Your voice is hushed, barely above a whisper.

Hoodie does not hesitate. He lifts up his mask, just enough to reveal his mouth and moves towards you. His hands cup your face and he smiles as soon as his lips meet yours. You relax into his touch. Your mind is going a mile a minute. When his tongue gently runs across your bottom lip, you eagerly open your mouth for him.

Without missing a beat, as Hoodie shoves his tongue in your mouth, he effortlessly moves you onto his lap. You let out a gasp and your arms wrap around his neck. You are positively melting into his touch.

Hoodie pulls away and begins to trail kisses down your throat. Your brain is fuzzy and you can’t think straight. You let a quiet moan and Hoodie smirks against your skin. “Sh,” He hushes you, “don’t need Tim hearing us.”

You nod and try to keep quiet. Before you know it, your position is being switched. You are lying on your back on the couch and Hoodie is above you, he’s watching you. You can’t see his eyes, but you can see his smirk. You let out a whine and your thighs rub together. “Please,” You whine, “I need-” You cannot verbalize what you need.

“Use your words,” He leans down and begins to kiss your neck again, licking and nipping the sensitive skin.

“I need you to touch me!” You are frustrated. “Make me feel good, please!” You are begging at this point.

Brian laughs. His smile widens and laughs. Your face is burning up and you want to hide again. “It’s okay, baby,” he murmurs into your skin. “I can do that.”

Hoodie is resting on his arm, keeping his weight from being completely on you. His opposite hand begins to trail towards your shirt and straight towards the elastic of your pajama pants. His hand dips down and he begins to rub you through your panties. Your hips eagerly roll into his touch and Hoodie gently bites down on your neck.

“So impatient,” He hums into your ear.

“Please!” You are still trying to keep quiet. “Need you-”

Hoodie doesn’t falter. His fingers pull down your pajama pants and your underwear. He palms you, and you roll into him again. A little more violently this time. Hoodie slides one finger into you at first. His lips are still attached to your throat. Your breathing is becoming heavy and loud. Hoodie’s finger moves slowly, painfully slow at first. You buck into him and let out a soft whimper.

“Hm,” Hoodie hums into your skin. “I’m sure your own fingers aren’t this good, huh?” He is cocky. You shake your head, quickly. You cannot form words. You are left a mess under him. “What? Does that feel good?” He knows the answer to that. You nod. “I’m gonna add another, okay?” He sits up to watch your reaction.

Another finger pushes into you and a white, hot fire is lit in your core. Your eyes screw shut as his fingers slowly pump in and out of you, his thumbs grazing over your clit. You feel like you're in a tunnel. You can hear him commenting about how good you are, but you cannot respond. Your mouth falls agape and you are trying to form a sentence to beg for more.

“Faster,” You mumble, “please, faster!”

“Anything for you,” He coos at you.

He picks up the pace and you are writhing in pleasure underneath him. Every single time his fingers pull from you, your hips follow them. You need him.

“Close-” The word stumbles from your tongue, “so close.” Your toes curl. You are going to burst. Your body tenses and your eyes shut tight. Your nails dig into Hoodie’s back, clawing at the fabric. His pace, steady but quick, does not slow. He keeps going. No signs of stopping anytime soon.

You pull Hoodie to you, letting out a loud whimper. His name falling from your lips like a mantra. You are seeing stars as his thumb rubs your clit a little faster. A louder cry is pulled from you this time. Everything comes undone so fast. Hoodie is in your ear, mumbling to you how good you’ve been, how you deserve this, and kissing the shell of your ear.

Hoodie lowers himself on top of you as you come down from your high. His fingers pull from you and shoves them into his own mouth. He sucks on them. You feel yourself getting even more wet.

The door down the hall opens. “What the fuck?”

You hide yourself immediately. Hoodie laughs. “I told you to be quieter.”

[lcriedlastnight]

Oscar in that post quali interview looked so mad (and hot) and it gave me an idea

Enemies to lovers, reader and Oscar start fighting for whatever reason, Oscar gets extremely mad but tries not to yell or say something he knows he would regret and reader is getting more annoyed by him not really reacting and is like "yell, scream, say something for fucks sake!” And Oscar just grabs her and kisses her and reader is surprised at first but then she immediately wraps her arms around him and kisses him back. And maybe at the end they admit they’re attracted to each other? Or however you want to end it

omg yes anon! this is an amazing idea.

tw: fem!reader, mean!reader she is a bitch!, lovely oscar, swearsm lmk if you want me to add anything.

w/c: 793

it started as a harmless joke from you. you both should have known that it would escalate. of course it would, it was you and oscar, when did it not escalate?

all you said was that lando should not have given the place back. you knew it was mean but that was kind of the point. you wanted oscar to bite, you wanted him to yell and shout and really just get in your face about it. you should have known better than that though.

oscar was not the type of person to roar and bawl over- well anything really. he was very cool, calm and collected. especially compared to you. a lot of your friends would describe you as a hothead, someone who loses her temper at the slightest inconvenience. you were not going to lie, sometimes you did enjoy a heated discussion every now and again.

you were both in oscar's drivers room, straight after his very first race win and instead of you congratulating him like you wanted to deep down, you instead found a way to get underneath his skin, just like you always did.

oscar leans against the wall, way too calm and relaxed for someone who was in the midst of an argument. it frustrated you to no end.

"lando's race was just better than yours, he should've won instead." you say. oscar's brows raise at your words.

"really? you think?" he mutters, calm. it is like the calmer he is the more it sends your blood boiling. is he not hurt by your words?

"yeah. i think everyone would rather have seen lando win today. after all he has been fighting for that second win ever since miami." lie. you know for a fact that since oscar began to lead the race you hoped and prayed he would stay ahead of the other papaya car and come out victorious.

"shame that i won then." oscar states, nonchalantly. your brows furrow.

"yeah it is. poor lando having to give away that win." you poke.

oscar just stares at you now, not even dignifying you with a response. you do not know what you like better, silence or him being dry and not giving a fuck. this man would be the cause of your death, you were sure of it.

"everyone is too busy thinking about how hard this is on lando to even give a fuck about your first win." you regret every single word that comes out your mouth but you are much too prideful to admit that to oscar. the only way you know he is still listening to you is the harsh exhales he lets out through his nose every time you say something particularly mean.

"the win was literally given to you."

this was your last straw. how could he just stand there and not care? was he made of stone or something?

"what is wrong with you? yell, scream, say something for fuck's sake!" you shout at him. it feels weird shouting at oscar, telling him to shout at you.

it is only seconds later that oscar takes three quick strides to you before he reaches you, hands quickly cupping your soft cheeks and holding you in place. he pulls you up towards his mouth and plants a firm but strangely soft kiss on your lips. this all happens in a matter of seconds so before you actually register that oscar's lips were on your own, you tense up. oscar takes that as a bad sign and drops his hands, going to pull away.

it hits you that he is kissing you and that he is going to pull away if you do not do something right now so you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer, finally moving your lips against his own. you sigh as oscar's hands return to their original place, thumbs tracing gentle paths across the skin underneath your eyes.

once he pulls away for air, he holds your head far enough away where he can admire you kiss swollen lips and hazy eyes, the little flush on your cheeks due to lack of air (and maybe, just a little because of oscar's touch, too).

"you get pretty mean when you like someone." oscar hums at you, thumbs still moving. even though you know he is making a joke you cannot begin to comprehend it because you are gazing at him, starry eyed and all loved up.

"you think i'm pretty?" oscar laughs and dives down for another kiss.

the australian knows you will apologise once you snap out of his touch infused haze, whenever that would be. oscar thinks no time soon, he plans to keep his hands on you at all times from now on.

[hyypnotix-writes]

Part 3

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

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

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

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

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

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

~ good luck! good bye xx ~

Part 1 Part 2

________________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mhmm.” 

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

“What on earth are you doing?” 

“Are you feeling okay?” 

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

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

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

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

“What?” 

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s wrong with that?” 

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

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

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

Yikes. You really are an idiot.   

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

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

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

“Will she be there today?” 

“Mhmm.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  

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

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

She’s very sexy in her little football kit and watching her kick a ball around is surprisingly entertaining. She’s also very good, even you can see that, and the fact that she’ll occasionally lift her shirt when she’s a little frustrated with herself? Well, replaying that in slow motion is entirely fine and acceptable.  

There’s no real heterosexual explanation for your enjoyment of it, but you can pretend it’s merely an appreciation of fitness for you to keep pausing all of the videos and zooming in on her body.  

It’s not something that you ask to learn about, but Em can’t help mentioning all of Alexia’s achievements to you. It’s very fun to find out about everything, and there’s a genuine sense of pride in you for all of her plentiful accolades.  

It does feel a little misplaced, perhaps. You probably still don’t know her well enough to be just as proud of her as you are, you’ve certainly not known her long enough to be quite so pleased for her.  

It’s also slightly daunting, maybe, realising how decorated she is. Finding out about her FIFA’s best awards, the World Cup, her consecutive Ballon d’Ors.  

This is a very highly celebrated woman that you’ve been mingling with.   

She’s widely regarded as the greatest women’s player, of all time. It’s not just your sister that’s been saying it, Alexia’s been awarded for it, on the television, in front of the whole world. There’s a mural of her in Barcelona, a viewpoint that’s been named after her, and it turns out, that there’s a fairly huge amount of people that really enjoy calling her La bloody Reina. She’s revered by these people, almost worshipped.  

You’re not letting it get to you too much. Yes, she’s widely adored, she’s won pretty much every single award it’s possible for her to achieve, and she’s only just turned 30. She’s famous and well-loved and you’re just a little nobody from London, but you’re not letting that get to you too much.   

That probably wouldn’t be very wise. That would bring questions into your head, and make you start doubting yourself. That’s not a fun thing for you to do. Why would you do that?   

Don’t do that, you’ll start spiralling. It doesn’t take much to get you overthinking. You spent the past month questioning your sexuality because of one single night with another woman. Don’t let yourself worry about it, that won’t end very well for you. Don’t let her success in her career start clouding who she is to you. She’s still just the confusing lime woman, at the end of the day.   

Don’t start thinking of her as Barcelona’s sweetheart, Alexia Putellas. That’s putting her on a pedestal that you’ll never be able to reach her on up there. That’s very careless of you, to leave her up there on it without you sitting next to her, don’t do that. She’s just a woman. A very beautiful and successful woman. That’s fine, there’s lots of them about. Calm down.  

The rain finally relents a few hours before the big match, and while it doesn’t really grant you a huge amount of time to do anything too adventurous, it is a relief to realise that you won’t be getting completely drenched as you watch Alexia play.  

Em makes a rather hasty escape to the beach, as soon as the sun makes its long-awaited appearance. She hasn’t enjoyed your little study session quite as much as you have. You really just can’t win with this woman. She’s grumpy when you hate football, she’s grumpy when you’re a fan of it. She really just loves being grumpy with everything.  

Your constant refusal to be taught anything about the Chelsea players probably didn’t help you to keep her happy, though. Your insistence that Barcelona is the far superior team, didn’t go down very well with her either. Your new ‘girl crush’ on Alexia Putellas was something she began to find really irritating. You were almost actively trying to wind her up, actually. Maybe you did deserve her abandonment, looking back. You were lucky the rain kept her about for as long as it did.  

She didn’t ask if you wanted to join her at the beach, but you’d have decided to stay where you are anyway. Making sure you really have learnt enough for tonight, is your number one priority at the moment. Quizzing yourself and rewatching a few more compilation videos, is far more important to you than the city around you. The tan you actually came out to Spain for really is taking a hit today, but you can enjoy Barcelona a bit more tomorrow.  

You’re having a small dilemma in the hotel bathroom, as you’re getting yourself ready for the game. It’s an escalating concern for you, and one that your sister is growing increasingly frustrated with you for. You’re going to be late to the match if you don’t start getting a move on.       

Em barges into the bathroom, startling you as you study yourself in the mirror, and you narrow your eyes at her reflection as she stands in the doorway, staring at you.      

“What’s taking you so long?” She asks, with a very clear tone of exasperation.       

“I’m debating.” You tell her thoughtfully, ignoring her choice of intonation completely, by offering her an innocent little smile, as she lets out a very long and loud groan behind you.       

“Of course, you are.” She mutters, and she leans against the doorframe, preparing herself for you to begin your impending little spiel.       

“Right. So, I want to have the whole shirt on display.” You begin, gesturing down the front of your body and tapping your fingers to the lettering across your back.  

“Of course, you do.”      

“Right. So, I’m thinking, hair up,” you explain, demonstrating your vision as you carefully scrape your hair up into a ponytail, before narrowing your eyes at your sister again, to see if she can also see the problem with your plan, “buuut..”     

“Is that a love bite?!” She exclaims, rushing towards you and tugging at your shirt collar to examine the light bruising on your neck.       

“Ex-actly!” You sigh in defeat, letting your hair cascade back down as you grab your makeup bag again, to have another go at concealing the little gift that Alexia left on you yesterday. “I knew I hadn’t done a good enough job with it.”      

“How did you get a love bite?!” She asks, still clearly shocked by your rather tame, levels of promiscuity, as she pushes you away from her in disgust.   

“The usual way.”       

“A man sucked on your neck?”      

“Is that how you usually get your love bites?”       

She pulls an immature face at you and flips you off in the mirror. “I’m 24!” She says, indignant. “I haven’t had a love bite in years!”      

“Well, that’s very sad and tragic of you.” You tell her with a sympathetic pout. “I can only apologise that you’re so prudish and boring, I hope you’re able to recover from that soon!”      

“You’re in a very annoying mood.” She recognises with a sigh, frowning at your reflection as you carry on with your camouflage attempt. “We’ve only been here a day! I thought I was supposed to be the slutty sibling!”      

“You are the slutty sibling.” You remind her with a chuckle. “You were in a relationship just last week, and I’ve already had to make breakfast for three different girls since you broke up!”      

She smiles at you, very proudly, because she’s very very gross, and has absolutely no shame in it.       

“It’s no wonder you looked so happy last night, then.” She says, carefully inspecting your neck for you. “That’s covered it, you’re fine.”      

“Mm. Thank you very kindly!” You tell her, giving her a great big kiss on the cheek for her assistance, that she very quickly rubs back off again.       

“Be less annoying!” She begs.       

“I will not be making any promises!” You warn her, smiling widely as you tie your hair up and give yourself another once over. “How are we looking?” You ask, giving her a quick twirl.       

“Traitorous.” She grumbles.  

“Perfect!” You squeal, excitedly grabbing her hand and pulling her out of the hotel room with you.  

Your enthusiasm doesn’t die out at all, as you clamber into the taxi with your sister, and, as luck would have it, your driver is an even bigger culer than you are. You’re able to have a pretty in-depth conversation with him, what with all of the new knowledge that you’ve so recently acquired, and Em’s just ecstatic for the pair of you.

It isn’t a long drive from the hotel to the stadium, but you do clearly make quite the impression on the driver, as you end up having to reject, with as much politeness as possible, his invitation of a date for after the game.  

You’re really hoping to have other plans tonight, with some much-preferred female company.      

“He’s not ugly.” Em informs you quietly as you get out of the car, and she certainly isn’t wrong.  

‘Not ugly’ is just about as big a compliment as Em will ever give, regarding a man. So, you can rest assured that he is actually a very good-looking gentleman.  She narrows her eyes at you suspiciously as you close the door to the vehicle, and you furrow your brow back at her.  

“What?”     

“You can agree to go out with him tonight, you don’t need to look after me.”      

You shake your head at her, with a mild grimace, muttering out an ‘mm’, as your only offering of an explanation for your lack of interest in him. “No doubt you’ll be going home with someone else after the match?” You check, trying to switch the focus back to her.  

“Naturally.” She winks. “It’s been an unsuccessful holiday otherwise!”     

There's still an unfortunate level of determination in your sister to get you a date for tonight, and you have to really insist, that you simply don’t want the driver’s number. She eventually reluctantly agrees to let him take off, giving him an apologetic nod as he rolls up the window, and you give her an uncomfortable smile as she turns her attention back to you.  

“I really think you should be getting back on the horse.” She encourages, still eyeing you with suspicion as you start the short walk to the stadium. “You can’t waste your life pining after Jamie forever.”      

“I’m really not doing that.” You tell her with a sigh. “I just didn’t want to go out on a date with him.”      

“Do you already have plans with hickey-man?” She giggles.  

“Please don’t call them that,” you chuckle, “and no ..not technically.”      

“But that’s who you’re hoping to find again?”      

“Mhmm.” You mumble, trying to stifle the smile that’s pulling at your lips.  

“Is he nice?”      

“Mhmm.”      

“Is he attractive?”      

“Mhmm.”      

“Do you like him?” She asks, wiggling her eyebrows at you.      

“..Mhmm.” You reply again, and your slightly nervous smile fully takes over your face.  

“Oh ..you really like him. After just one love bite?” She questions, narrowing her eyes at you again. “You don’t usually fall so quickly.” She tells you, and you can only shrug at the suggestive tone to her voice.      

“I don’t really know what you want me to say to that?”      

“I just ..want you to be careful.” She explains. “I don’t want you getting hurt again.”      

“You were just trying to bag me a date with him?”      

“Yeah, but as a one-night thing.” She clarifies. “Falling in love with a random Spanish man isn’t the best way of getting over your ex.”      

“I’m not in love with them, and I’m not ..really still trying to get over Jamie.”      

“Hm. Good. He was a prat.” She reminds you with a rather disgusted looking frown at the memory of him.    

“Thanks, Em.”   

“Ugly cheating bast—”     

“Okay, Em. Enough.”     

“But he was an ugly cheating bas—“ 

“Enough!” 

“Sorry. He was a horrible dickhead, though.” 

“I know.” You sigh. “I get it, thanks.” 

“He still gets to you?” She realises, noticing that your hands have balled themselves into tight fists, and your stomach turns slightly as you shrug your shoulders at her.  

“A little.” You admit, as a less exciting reimagining of events begins to torment your brain. “I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with him, only to find out he’d been sleeping around for two years.” 

“Two years?” She asks, eyes going wide, and you kick yourself for saying too much.  

“I thought I already told you that.” 

“No ..you told me he’d been with a few women. Two fucking years?” 

“Please don’t do the maths, you’ll hate him even more.” 

You attempt to walk away, already having had enough of the conversation, but you don’t get very far.  

“You are joking.” She says, grabbing your arm to stop your escape attempt. “He cheated on you, because Mum died?”      

“Not because Mum died, you idiot. Even he wouldn’t be that foul.”     

“But it’s linked?”     

“Enough, please.”   

“No. What the fuck, Y/N?”      

“That’s enough, okay. I just want to enjoy the match. We can talk about it later.”     

“We can talk about it now! I have the tickets,” she reminds you, with a very clear anger brewing in her, “you’re not getting in there without me! Why the fuck would he cheat on you aft—”     

“Because I didn’t really fancy having sex with him straight after.” You interrupt, in a hushed tone, trying to stop her from causing a scene. “I didn’t fancy having it for a while, he clearly had ..needs.”     

“Don’t justify it.”    

“I’m not ..but ..I understand why he did it. I practically pushed him into the arms of other women.”     

“That’s disgusting, Y/N. You can’t really be blaming yourself for it?”     

“Well ..I don’t know..” You mumble.   

“He cheated on you for two years, because you didn’t want to sleep with him for a bit, and you think that’s okay?”  

“That’s not what I said. I just ..get it.”   

You turn away from her again, to carry on with the walk and she hurries after to you to keep in step, not really content in letting this godforsaken conversation die out just yet.  

“That’s really the excuse he used?” She asks.   

“That’s why it started, apparently. There was obviously ..something else, for him to want to carry on doing it.” You admit, fidgeting with your fingers uncomfortably as you start thinking. “Maybe I was ..missing something that he liked or ..not doing something he wanted me to. I—” you let out a sigh, shaking your head, “..it really doesn’t matter, okay? Please, that’s enough. I honestly haven’t been thinking about him, I don’t want to start again now.”     

“I’m sorry.” She tells you, with a clear look of remorse, and you give her a light nod with a tight-lipped smile in an attempt to ease her guilt.  

You carry on your walk for only a few paces before realising Em is no longer travelling with you, and you turn back to find her staring at her feet. “What are you doing?” You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose between your fingers and thumb.  

She taps her toes to the ground a few times, before lifting her head and approaching you with a real sense of purpose. “Here,” she says, handing you a small piece of paper, “in case you can’t find hickey-man.” She tells you, and you do let yourself chuckle a little at Alexia’s unfortunate new nickname as you unfurl the note.     

“You got his number for me? I really don’t need this.” You sigh. You hold the paper out to return to her, but she pushes it back to you.   

“I think you do.” She tells you earnestly. “I don’t think it’s good for you to keep getting hung up on people. First Italian-man, now hickey-man. You were even working yourself up about one kiss with that Spanish woman.” She rolls her eyes at you, before giving you a sincere look of concern. “I know you fall hard, but you don’t usually fall fast. It's weird, and it’s not like you.” She explains, placing her hands on your arms, trying to get you to listen to her better. “I think you should have a proper meaningless night with someone.” She suggests with a shrug “He’s not ugly, and you’re not interested. That’s perfect one-night stand material! You're welcome!”     

“Fine ..thanks.” You mutter, giving her a little nod in defeat as you stare at the number in your hand.  

A meaningless night with a stranger really isn’t what you’re after, but you’re not about to fight her on it now. It’s not an ideal conversation to have just had, really. Your sister isn’t exactly calculated enough to have done it deliberately, she’s not trying to upset you because your footballing-happiness was winding her up too much.  

It’s frustrating from her, but she’s genuinely concerned about you, and maybe she has a reason to be. Maybe you have been ignoring some things about yourself, refusing to confront a few little issues that are bubbling under the surface.  

The ending of your relationship isn’t super ancient history, and you were with him for an unfortunately excessive amount of time. Meaningless hookups were exactly what you were preparing yourself for before Alexia ended up being your first one and ruining the rest of your plans.  

You do know that you’re not letting yourself get hung up over three separate people, though. Italian-man, hickey-man and Spanish-woman are all one person, and letting yourself get so hung up on Alexia as quickly as you are, is fine. Probably. That’s not really a cause for concern.  

Right? 

Of course, you’ve still spent less than 24 hours with her, there’s probably still lots of things you don’t know about each other. You have shared some pretty intimate details about yourselves together already, though, and she doesn’t feel like a rebound, as such. That would be grotesquely underselling the connection between you both.  

She is a woman, which is still new to you, and you really don’t usually fall so quickly for people. It took that bellend over six months to finally wear you down for a date. All Alexia needed to do was hold out a lime for you, to get herself wedged inside of your head.  

Don’t let yourself think about it too hard, you’ll do yourself a mischief. You’re just here to watch some football. You’re here to watch the girl you like, play a bit of football.  

Let’s not overthink, it isn’t good for you. It will only lead to questions and concerns, and that’s not what you need right now. Let’s have fun! 

The atmosphere around the stadium is quite the riot, and it’s very effective in distracting you. There’s flares being let off, the sound of trumpets and drums, there’s colourful smoke everywhere, the most enormous flags you’ve ever seen in your life. It’s like a little carnival, and it’s invigorating, letting yourself get swept up in the excitement of it all.  

You receive a tremendous amount of friendly looks, solely because of the badge over your heart and the name proudly on display on your back and noticing that your sister isn’t shown the same courtesy for wearing her Chelsea shirt, really only adds to your enjoyment of the occasion.  

Em drags you through the large flock of fans, trying to make sure that you don’t get separated from each other on your way into the stadium, and you keep offering up apologies on her behalf, as she carelessly mows people down for you. She is quite the woman on a mission.   

You opt to keep your head down, a little embarrassed by your sister’s rudeness, but even as you make an effort to avoid making eye contact with all of the disgruntled supporters that she keeps barging through, there is one thing that you do struggle to avoid seeing, with some of the Barcelona fans.    

An overwhelmingly impressive amount of them, also have ‘ALEXIA’ on their shirts.    

This doesn’t come as a complete shock to you. She is the best player on the team, after all. There is something about seeing her name plastered over quite so many strangers’ backs, however, that has sent your heart racing.    

This turnout of people is undoubtedly nothing compared to the millions of followers that you found out she has on Instagram yesterday, but it’s a very different feeling, seeing her fame condensed into a little figure on social media, than it is, to actually seeing so many of them in person. It’s much harder for you to ignore the countless amount of admirers that she has, when you keep physically bumping into all of them.   

“Are you good?” Em asks, as you find yourself frozen in the crowd, staring at the back of another person’s shirt.   

“Hm? Yeah, sorry.” You mutter, giving your head a shake, before letting yourself get dragged along again. “She’s very ..popular.”    

“Putellas?” She checks, and you can only nod back at her, still a little dumbfounded by it all. “Well, yeah. Obviously!” She snickers. “Come on!”   

Maybe it’s pride that you’re feeling. Knowing you’ve been spending a bit of time with someone so well-liked. That’s very nice for you, that’s entirely enjoyable and fun. It doesn’t need to be anything other than that. What good would that do for you?  

Perhaps there's a slight nervous tension in your stomach, at seeing her name absolutely everywhere. That’s probably understandable and fine. You knew she was famous, but that’s still a little confounding to actually play witness to. No one’s going to hold that against you, it’s okay to be a little overwhelmed by it all.   

It’s a new reality for you. It makes sense that that would be accompanied with a new feeling too. Anxiety isn’t something that’s really presented itself to you when thinking of Alexia before now. Of course it isn't, why would it have been?   

Picturing little scenarios with her in your mind was fun, it was silly. It didn’t really mean anything when you were never going to find her again. You didn’t need to go putting doubts about yourself in imaginary-Alexia’s head, that wouldn’t keep things very fun and silly at all.   

There are a few doubts about yourself in your own head now, perhaps. Seeing as you have found her again, you’re falling for her, and she’s clearly not the little nobody that you thought you’d entangled yourself with, but that’s probably fine. It’ll be a temporary thing. Let’s not worry about it right this second. Let’s just enjoy the game instead!  

It really isn’t wise for you to start stewing on things. You really will start spiralling.   

How could you not?   

If you start letting yourself think too hard about all the things that you were lacking, and what you simply couldn’t offer to keep a pathetic pig of a man satisfied, and you really start allowing yourself to question why you weren’t good enough for him, that isn’t going to put you in a very good mindset when seeing all these fans that Alexia has.   

Her supporters aren’t limited to just little kids or grown men. There’s a lot of women here, also sporting her name. It isn’t necessarily the case that all of these women are gay, that’s not really how watching women’s football works. She can have straight women being her fans too.   

Some of them are probably gay, though, aren’t they? Lots of the ones that are gay, with her name on them, might have a little crush on her. It’s very likely that absolutely none of them will have had to do research all day to make sure that they knew what was going on this evening. All of them will have already known everything. They’ll be genuinely into football, genuine fans of Alexia.   

Gorgeous, confidently gay, and really into football. Those are the women that surround you right now. That’s fine. What’s wrong with that?  

Why are you letting yourself worry? Why are you letting them get to you? Because they make more sense for her? Because they’re better for her? Because you’re not a fan of football?   

Alexia already knows that, she didn’t walk out on you because of it. 

She did giggle a few times at your idiocy, though, didn’t she? So, she probably did think you were a little foolish. She would presumably think it was a bit lame of you, to have spent quite so much time studying for a football match. Who else has ever had to do that? You really probably are the only one. That is a bit embarrassing. Quite pathetic of you.   

Damn.   

What a loser, you are.   

Shit.   

Maybe you should let it get to you. Maybe you’ve let yourself get carried away. Maybe you’re having a psychotic break. You’re letting yourself fall for a woman. A Spanish woman. A famous Spanish woman. A famous Spanish woman who plays football professionally, for crying out loud! Look at all of these beautiful lesbian fans that she has here. What the hell do you think you’re playing at?   

You? A little nobody from London, who couldn’t even keep an ugly bastard of a man happy? If you weren’t even able to manage to do that, how could you possibly hope to be good enough, for two-time Ballon d’Or recipient, current Champions League and World Cup winner, Barcelona’s sweetheart, Alexia Putellas?   

That doesn’t seem very likely at all, does it? You being the soulmate of this ethereal goddess of a woman? Behave yourself. You really are delusional.   

Maybe that’s why she wanted you here, to laugh at you. Point and laugh at you with all of her football friends.   

Just go home now. Pretend that you’re ill. You do look a little ill. You’ve let yourself spiral, haven’t you? I did warn you about doing that. Now look at the state of you. This is very tragic.  

 

“Mate, what are you doing?” Em asks, as you once again find yourself paralysed, staring at yet another stranger’s shirt.    

“I just ..I don’t feel well.” You mumble.    

“Noo. Please don’t do that!” She begs, all too aware of what your next statement is going to be. “We’re here now!” She reminds you, bouncing on her toes. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought up that wanker, but please, we can still enjoy this together. You’ve been so excited about it all day.” She gives you a very sad pout, lightly pulling on your arm, trying to encourage you to keep following her.   

You really have been excited all day. It would be a shame to let your intrusive thoughts ruin it for you. You don’t want to let that bastard keep dictating all of the fun you’re allowed to have. You’re just here to enjoy some football.  

Woo!  

“Sorry. I just—” You pause, giving your head another shake as you try to catch your breath. “She’s just ..very popular.” You reiterate, gesturing to the stranger’s back with your thumb.   

“Did you think you’d be the only one here wearing her name?” She snorts. “I told you the woman who gave it to you was basic.”  

Your mind is still racing a little as you follow your sister out towards the stands. The atmosphere is even more intense inside of the stadium, and you try to let yourself embrace it all again, but it is mildly dizzying this time around.  

Em has nabbed you some pretty decent seats to be fair to her, though. One thing about your sister, she is absolutely going to treat herself and overspend on her interests without a care in the world. It’s something you often advise against her doing, it's not the wisest thing for her to do with her money. You couldn’t really be more grateful for it right now, though, when you’re practically sitting front row.  

Both teams are still out warming up, and you let your eyes roam the Barcelona side for a moment. You finally notice Alexia amongst all of the chaos, and you immediately stop noticing anything else. Your mind goes completely blank, just at the mere sight of her.  

She really does calm you right down, truly nothing else matters when she’s around you. That’s really very lovely. It’s a good thing you don’t live in two separate countries from each other. Imagine the way your mind would implode if you couldn’t just look at her all the time to stop your mental deterioration.. 

You watch Alexia, as she completes her runs, does some drills, begins to stretch. It’s like she’s the only one out there on the field, working in slow motion, putting on a show, just for you. There’s absolutely no reason for it to be as sexy as it is, she’s literally just warming up, but you find yourself, jaw clenched, as you observe her movements.   

She pauses for a drink break, and you remain mesmerised as she squeezes a jet of water into her mouth and pours a little extra over her face. You bite down on your bottom lip as you follow the beads of liquid rolling down her neck, slowly travelling under her shirt, and your breath hitches, as you allow yourself to remember exactly what it is that she’s concealing under her shirt. You can picture that body perfectly; you’ve thought of little else aside from it for over a month.  

She’s all hot, and sweaty, and— please! Pull yourself together! You’re in public, and you’re practically drooling. Do you remember when you were straight? Straight straight straight. Try channeling a bit more of that, perhaps. You’ll be an absolute puddle right there in your seat, otherwise.  

“There’s your one.” Your sister reminds you, making you jump as she nudges you and gestures down across to the pitch, once again pulling you away from your redacted thoughts.   

“Oh yeah! Thanks.” You tell her, feigning surprise, as you hide the small smile on your face, and swallow down on your arousal. You subtly wipe at the corners of your mouth with the back of your finger, just in case a bit of drool really had started falling, and you nod to your sister in acknowledgment. “She really is quite ..pretty.” You say pointedly, paying close attention to your sister’s thoughts and feelings on the matter.   

It probably wouldn’t be ideal if your sister showed an interest. She has a rather troubling talent with the ladies, and you’re not too sure you’d rate your chances going up against her, where another woman’s concerned.  

It really isn’t something you’ve ever had to think about before. There was never any chance of you two being into the same person until Alexia flicked a switch inside of your head. It was only a joke when she mentioned it in the café, but you can’t pretend it hasn’t niggled in the back of your mind a little.  

If you do end up introducing them, and they really hit it off? They almost certainly have more in common than you and Alexia do. They could talk for days about football together; they both have multiple tattoos where you only have a single measly little thing on your ribs. They’re both definitely gay, which is far more than you can say about yourself.  

That’s three strikes right there, isn’t it? That’s not very good.  

That’s all you get.  

You’re already out of the race.  

You’ll introduce them, they’ll fall in love, get married, have kids, and you’re left pining after your sister’s wife for the rest of eternity. Even the sweet release of death wouldn’t save you from a heartache that powerful. That’s an eternal pain. It’s permanent, infinite. A truly deathless agony that’ll haunt you till the very end of time itself.  

Good grief! 

What’s going on with you? You’re being very dramatic and sad suddenly. This really isn’t like you. You’ve only met this woman twice. Snap out of it! 

“Sure, I guess.” Em shrugs, not at all taken in by Alexia’s beauty. She really does have very questionable taste in women. You really should have known that already, that isn’t new information to you. You desperately need to calm down, you’re getting yourself into a really bad place.  

“Which one’s that?” She asks you, testing your knowledge as she points to another player on the field.   

“Ona Batlle.” You tell her confidently, shaking your worries from your head as you try to focus on what really matters right now. “Defender. Used to play for United.”  

“Very good,” she commends, genuinely quite impressed with the results of your last-minute cramming, “and that?”  

“María León. Mapi. Also, a defender. Didn’t go to the World Cup.”  

“Mhmm! And that?”  

“Not a bloody clue!”  

“For fuck’s sake.” She grumbles.   

“What? She’s one of yours,” you point out, grinning, “I don’t give a shit about the Chelsea players!”  

“You really are a twat.” She tells you, smacking your shoulder, before she crosses her arms and leans back into her seat. “Do you remember how the game works?” She asks you, rather condescendingly. “Do you need me to go through it all again for you?”  

“No, thank you.” You reassure her, innocently. “I think I’ve got it all memorised ..it’s just the best of three sets in the women’s game, right?”  

“Twat.” Em calls you again, and you chuckle to yourself, relaxing back down into your own seat, entirely satisfied with just how incredibly easy she is to wind up.  

You return your attention back to Alexia’s warmup routine, making sure to not keep letting your mind run wild with more dirty thoughts. It has been over a month for you, but even your sister’s showing a bit more decorum with her ogling of Sam Kerr. You really can control yourself better than this, you are not an animal.  

Alexia pauses her drills to have another sexy little drink, and you notice her surveying the crowd as she downs her water. She does a very careful examination of the away section, and she stops to stare, as soon as she finds you.  

You’re once again the only two people in the whole vicinity, as her eyes meet yours, and a bashful smile takes over her face.  

Whatever concerns you might be battling with, you can definitely be certain, that this woman wants you here today, and she isn’t at all discreet about how happy she is to see that you’ve come, and that you’re wearing her shirt.  

She mouths a little ‘hi’ to you, and it’s impossible for you not to smile at her, when your heart’s jumping up inside of your chest. You mouth back a ‘hi’ followed by a ‘wow’, with a slight wince, as you dramatically flit your eyes around your surroundings, and she bites at her lip, with a clear sense of awkwardness.  

‘I’m sorry.’ She tells you silently, but you shake your head at her with a furrowed brow.  

‘Don’t be daft, good luck!’ you offer with a smile, and a subtle thumbs up. You tap proudly at the badge on your chest, and Alexia’s smile only grows as she watches you.  

She responds with a nod, a ‘gracias’ and her own thumbs up, which clearly wasn’t as subtle as yours, as it didn’t go unnoticed by your sister.  

“Was that directed at you?” She asks, squinting at Alexia as she moves with the other players down towards the tunnel.   

“Hm? Looked like that, didn’t it?” 

“That’s quite cool.” She acknowledges. “She’ll probably think you got lost on the way in, sitting here with us. You don’t exactly blend in!”  

“No, that’s true.” You chuckle, tapping your hands down the red stripes on your torso. “Maybe she just felt bad for me, stuck here with you losers.”  

“Mm.” She grumbles, pulling a face at you. “That’s Sam Kerr!” She informs you excitedly, quickly moving on from your interaction, and focusing back on who she deems to be, the more important star of this evening’s show.   

“I know who Sam Kerr is,” you sigh, “I’m not an idiot. I’ve seen her poster on your wall.”  

“Mmmmmm.” She hums, gazing very dreamily at the striker as she makes her own way off of the pitch.   

“Oh, please.” You start, rolling your eyes at the state that she’s getting herself into. “Have some self-control, Em, we’re in public!”  

You really are a shameless little hypocrite.

  

Goosebumps spread all over your skin as the teams return to the pitch, and the Champions League anthem rings out around the stadium. You can feel the excitement really getting to you, as the hairs on your arms stand up on end.  

It’s very overwhelming. You couldn’t have cared less about this match yesterday morning, and now it’s the most important thing in the world to you.  

All for a girl, what has gotten into you?  

The game is highly contested right from the first whistle. With the first leg ending in a 0-0 draw, neither team is able to rely on aggregate to get themselves through, and you can feel the pressure that the players are under.  

Both sides are naturally desperate to win, though expectation is slightly higher for Barcelona, seeing as they won the whole thing last season.   

There’s a very mild sense of nervousness in you about the result. You’re not really sure how you’d go about consoling someone after a huge sporting defeat. You’ve never been very good at comforting Em when a football score has left her upset, and it’s probably far worse when you’re actually on the team that’s lost, and not just watching it through the television.  

You know exactly how Alexia would be able to cheer you up, and you’d be more than willing to try the same technique with her. She might not be as horned up as you clearly are, though. You may very well need to start drafting a proper commiserative speech for her, if the game does start running away from them. Sexual favours may simply not be enough.  

You do take some comfort in the fact that Barcelona haven’t lost to Chelsea before, and while you appreciate that nothing’s guaranteed in sports, Alexia’s very good, and you know for a fact that the rest of her teammates really aren’t too shabby either. There’s a reason that they’ve won this whole thing twice, and you’re letting the knowledge of that keep you from getting too worked up about it.  

Alexia’s the best in the world, and no best in the world is losing to bloody Chelsea, not today.  

Alexia’s incredible for you to watch when she plays, even when she only has possession for a second. She’s just a wizard on the ball, the way she reads the game so easily, how she seems to predict everyone’s movements. She’s always in control, unwaveringly calm, deliberate in her choices.  

She almost dances with the ball, and it’s impossible to deny how unbelievably gifted she is, as she weaves around her opponents. She has a very distinctive flair, for making it all look so effortless. It’s just incredibly sexy of her, and you find yourself wiping at the corners of your mouth again as you watch on, just in case.   

It’s not a skill that you’ve ever really appreciated in a person before. You’ve had boyfriends that played football in school, you watched your sister plenty of times when she was little, but you never really focused on them while they were actually playing.  

You’d cheer at the right moments, making the correct noises when you needed to, just following the rest of the crowd’s lead, mainly. You found it all a bit boring, really, it didn’t mean anything to you.   

Now, Alexia’s only casually passing the ball between herself and a few of her teammates, and you’re absolutely entranced by her, you couldn’t think of anything else you’d rather be watching. There’s a glow to her as she plays. She’s enthralling, captivating. You might be her number one fan.  

The match aside from Alexia’s performance, is far more tense than you’d care to admit. Both teams have plenty of attempts on goal, neither of them score. Every missed shot from Barcelona has you cursing under your breath, and every near goal from Chelsea has you covering your eyes like a child. It’s a little unbearable, you absolutely love it. It’s what sport’s all about.   

It’s a very unexpected reaction from you. The way your heart’s started palpitating, the slight tightness in your shoulders whenever a Chelsea player’s on the ball, the elation shooting through you every time Barcelona regains possession. It’s the skin around the nail of your thumb that suffers the most under your passion, as you nibble at it relentlessly, watching everything unfold with a high degree of intensity.   

You keep knocking your sister every time Alexia gets close to scoring, gripping at Em’s sleeve and tugging at her in anticipation. It’s hard to tell if it’s an excitable twitch, or if it’s stress-tapping of your foot, but every nerve in your body is on fire as you watch Alexia in her element. Em still can’t really understand your newly established avidity for the game, but she continually embraces it all with a light chuckle as she keeps telling you to “please, calm down.”   

The whistle blows for halftime and it’s still level at 0-0. You can barely contain yourself, letting out a huge breath that you weren’t fully aware you’d been holding in.   

“I can’t survive another half like that!” You warn Em, bashing your head against her shoulder. “I need a goal. Just one goal!” Your legs are bobbing up and down, as the adrenaline in you tries to find a way of escaping your body, and she rests her hand over them to calm you down.  

“Do you need a wee?” She asks, a little concerned at the mess you’re turning into, and you shake your head with a laugh.   

“No, I’m good, thanks! I just ..really want them to win.”  

“You’re really into it, aren’t you?” She chuckles.  

“Mhmm. Thank you for bringing me here.”  

“You’re welcome! I’m glad you decided to stay.” She tells you, with a proud smile on her face at finally winning you over on her favourite interest. “It’s a shame you’re rooting for the dark side, though. It’s weird that this is the team that speaks to you.”  

“Mm. I’m sorry about that.” You offer half-heartedly, pulling at the badge on your shirt to give it a kiss.  

“You’re such a traitor,” she tells you with a flick to your forehead, “Dad will be disgusted when I tell him.” 

 

The second half starts, and it’s much the same as the first. There’s more near misses, a few choice attempts on goal, and the game starts getting far sloppier as both sides get more desperate to score. There are some pretty ugly fouls, resulting in a few yellow cards being issued to both teams, and you’re suddenly far less concerned with winning, and far more worried about Alexia just making it out in one piece.  

“It’s quite brutal!” You point out to your sister, flinching as another Chelsea player goes tumbling to the ground.  

“Mm. You think she’d be more careful.” She tells you. She taps at the number on your shirt, and it sends an instant chill racing up the back of your neck.  

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You question, biting down hard on your thumb as you await her response.  

“She tore her ACL a couple years back, took her out of the Euros. She hardly played at all last season.” 

“Tore her ACL?” You ask, exhaling slowly as you make the connection in your head. “Would that be her knee?” 

“Mhmm.” 

“Shit.” Drops out of your mouth, as you bite your thumb a little too deeply, and you try to shake the stinging from your hand.  

It makes sense, that Em would choose to withhold this little titbit of information from you, you really are quite squeamish. If you’d known this game could turn into such a bloodbath, you’d have probably elected to stay home. 

Alexia had played it coy, when you traced your fingers over her scars that night. She wasn’t exactly uncomfortable with you asking her about them, but it still wasn’t something she was going to get into with you. You weren’t going to force the issue too hard, you’re not an idiot, but it had certainly piqued your interest. She really wasn’t forthcoming with any information about herself, and it quickly became apparent how talented she was at deflecting from your queries.  

It stopped being at the forefront of your mind completely, when she was otherwise so distracting with it. Her scars didn’t inhibit her at all when she was pressing her knee against you. It felt good, she seemed fine, who were you to question? 

“Should she be playing at all?” You ask flicking your thumb against your finger to try and weaken the pain shooting through it.  

“Sure! Lots of them do, you just think it’d freak ‘em out a bit more.” She tells you. “It’s amazing she still throws herself into it as much as she does, really.” 

“You don’t become the best by tapping out.” You recognise, and she excitedly nods her head at you.  

“No, exactly! Sometimes it happens again, though. Can be the exact same rupture, different tear, same leg. A few players have it happen to their other leg..” Em continues to give you a very unhelpful rundown of just how common this career-jeopardising injury seems to be, and an uncomfortable lump forms in your throat as she goes a little too deep into all of the details with it. “Are you okay?” She asks, cutting herself off at your obvious discomfort at her lecture, and she gently taps at your shoulder. “You’ve gone quite pale.” 

“I don’t like seeing people get hurt, you know that.” 

“She’ll be alright.” She reassures you, gesturing to the Chelsea player as she pulls herself back to her feet. “It’s just when a player gets stretchered off, really. That’s when you properly worry about them.” 

You suddenly find yourself, very stressed. 

It immediately feels like Alexia, in particular, has a target on her back as the game continues. Every time she gets on the ball, a Chelsea player comes flying in, rather aggressively, trying to win it back off of her. It’s a very violent onslaught, and it’s not one that you’re keen on watching.   

She spends most of the second half having to drag herself back to her feet, and you no longer feel like you can just blame it on the slightly wet grass, when there’s a menacing little Chelsea player hovering ominously over her every time she goes down to the ground.  

The game is still level as the clock starts running down the final few minutes, but any sense of relief that this torture is almost over, is immediately extinguished, as you remember that this specific game would have to go to extra time, and then penalties, if no one’s able to break the deadlock.   

Penalty shootouts, on their own, are usually just about the only thing you can tolerate in football, when you’re a neutral with zero stakes. It sounds like a nightmare now, however. Especially as it means you’d have to endure 30 extra minutes of the Chelsea players’ assault on Alexia.   

You really can’t take it. Your heart’s started thumping. You have a headache forming. Your fingers have turned to ice.  

You’re out of your seat as Alexia makes a beeline for the goal in the 87th minute. It’s an incredible scoring opportunity, she can’t miss.   

A Chelsea defender appears to the side of her, as if from nowhere as Alexia lines up her shot, and she’s brutally slid into, just outside of the area.   

You can hear the collision as it happens, it almost reverberates throughout the whole stadium. Life in the arena comes to a complete standstill, as everyone just watches it all unfold.   

Alexia goes down, and the world stops spinning, your heart stops beating, and time stands still.   

She stays down, and your body goes rigid, your blood runs cold, and you want to be sick.  

Get up. Please get up.  

Your sister grips on to your arm trying to comfort you, trying to tell you that it probably isn’t as bad as it looked, but your eyes don’t move from where Alexia lies on the floor, clutching her knee.   

Medics are rushed onto the pitch with a stretcher in hand, and you remain frozen in place.   

Please get up. Just get up.  

The defender is back on her feet only a minute after the tackle, and she’s shown a yellow card for her foul. You want to throttle the referee right there and then.  

“It should be a straight fucking red!” You shout, as you grip your hands together on the top of your head, trying to distract yourself from the burning in your eyes, and the new quiet ringing that’s started in your ears.   

You receive a couple of snide looks from the supporters surrounding you for your little outburst, and you can hear a few less-than-friendly words being bellowed out at you, but frankly, you don’t give a fuck.  

Just get up. Get up and walk off if you have to. Just get. up.  

You want to jump over the seats. Push every annoying, arsehole supporter in a Chelsea shirt right out of your way and invade the pitch to be with her. Your body’s screaming out at you to do something, anything, and you can’t. You’re useless to her.   

Just get up.  

Alexia looks to be in agony on the ground. A few of the Barcelona players are swarming the referee for her blatant incompetence. Even the other Chelsea players are a little amazed that they’ve gotten away with it, without going a player down.   

It was a dirty foul. Out of character, according to your sister. You don’t care. It could’ve been a complete accident by her, and you’re not fussed. It was reckless, it was filthy, and she should be off that goddamn pitch with some level of suspension at least.  

Get up. Please.  

Em tries to pull you back into your seat and you still don’t budge. You stand where you are, watching the small crowd on the pitch, as it slowly blocks Alexia from your view. You bite at the skin on your thumb, willing yourself to stay calm, willing Alexia to just get the fuck up.   

It feels like a lifetime waiting for things to happen, for any sign of development from the scene on the ground. You ultimately collapse back down into your chair, trying to catch your breath, trying to stop the world from swirling around you, trying to stop your brain from assuming the worst. You close your eyes, holding your face in your hands, blocking it all out.  

Get. Up.   

This isn’t really what you signed up for, is it? You wanted to watch the girl you like, play a little game of football. Possibly celebrate her winning, with some adult-fun-time. Not find out that she’s fairly recently had such a serious injury, and then watch her go crashing down to the ground, holding that specific body part. You can’t do anything about it. You can’t help. You’re stuck in place, watching it all happen right in front of you.  

This is torture. Maybe this is why you never let yourself get into football. Who is this fun for exactly? What’s the point in it all?  

What an unbelievably useless waste of your time. You were already in a bad enough place before the game kicked off and distracted you from it. Now it’s made it worse. This is terrible. You really should have just stayed home. Imagine coming all the way out to Spain and making yourself bloody ill with it. Jesus Christ.  

Please. Get up.  

After what feels like hours, the medics do start slowly dissipating and there’s a cautious ripple of applause around the stadium, because Alexia has gotten up, but not of her own accord. She’s being flanked by Mapi and Asisat, and she looks very unstable.  

They carefully remove themselves from under her arms, and she’s not very well balanced at all. She’s reluctant to put too much weight on her leg, she’s limping, and she’s still gripping onto Mapi for dear life, but she's not being stretchered off. She’s up, and you can breathe again.   

You watch on as she tests her strength, steadily gaining confidence that her knee isn’t going to give way beneath her, and she puts her hand up to Jonatan to indicate that she will not be getting subbed off. She gives her body a shake, looks over in your direction, and she nods to herself with a reinvigorated sense of determination.   

You don’t know if you’re completely turned on by her bold display of bravery, or if you want to give her a slap for being quite so carelessly audacious. She doesn’t need to play the hero; you’d rather she just sat it out.  

“What is she doing?” You mutter under your breath, shaking your head as Alexia waits to be let back into the game.  

“You don’t become the best by tapping out!” Em reminds you, with a smile, patting your shoulder reassuringly. Her entire demeanour is in stark contrast to the one that you’re currently displaying, and as comforting as she’s trying to be by rubbing at your arm, it isn’t very effective. “Are you sure you’re okay?” She asks. “You look really unwell.”  

“Mhmm.” Is all you’re able to mumble out, as your eyes lock onto Alexia on the sidelines.  

The free kick awarded for the foul is saved, and Alexia’s back on the pitch for the corner. You want to stop her. You want to swear at her. You can’t handle it. You need a drink.   

You grab at the neckline of your shirt and pull it up over the bottom half of your face. You’re very very stressed. Even the familiar smell of her on your top isn’t doing much to comfort you. She’s an idiot. She’s so unbelievably stupid. What the fuck?  

You watch the corner kick, as the ball goes sailing over the heads of everyone, before it connects with Alexia’s forehead and skims past the tips of the keeper’s fingers.   

The stadium erupts around you, and you’re back up off of your seat, letting out your own roar in celebration. Your eyes are absolutely stinging with tears, as you hold your forehead against your hands, and there’s more than a few snide looks at you from the supporters you’re buried in, given your lack of propriety about the situation.  

You’re getting called every colourful derogatory term under the sun for your rather ungodly little cheer, and still, you couldn’t care less. You let out a few huge breaths, trying to steady yourself, and despite her team now trailing in the final minutes, Em wraps her arms around you, giving you a shake, as she tries to get you to properly enjoy the moment.  

Alexia points up to the sky in celebration, and you can hear her name being gradually chanted around the stands. It catches in your ear, echoing in a crescendoing drone. It’s deafening, unrelenting, and you try to shake it back out of your head before it really starts getting too much for you.  

You know that there’s going to be a fair few minutes of added time with how many fouls the second half has had and given how long Alexia was just down for especially, but you can see how the life’s just been completely zapped from the Chelsea side. They’re not equalising today; the game is done.   

The whistle blows for full time at 1-0 and you finally slump back down into your seat. The stadium is going absolutely wild around you, and you just close your eyes to it, waiting for it all to die down.  

You can hear your sister trying to pull you out of your head, but you press your palms against your eyelids, trying to block everything out. Your body’s racking itself. There’s a sharp shortness to your breath, an uneven rapidity to your heartbeat. Your head’s burning up, and your eyes are stinging.  

You’re not really cut out for this, are you? It’s all gotten a bit much. You really are spiralling, look at the state of you. All this, because of one unfortunate, mistimed tackle? Because there’s a few extra people here that know Alexia’s name?   

Barcelona just won, Alexia just scored the winning goal, and you’re collapsing in on yourself. 

What would you have been like if they had just lost? If Alexia had been genuinely hurt? Not much good, clearly. Not very helpful.  

Alexia deserves someone better. Someone who doesn’t go into a panic in the stands whenever she hits the deck. Someone who isn’t unnerved by her celebrity status. Maybe someone, who isn’t questioning her identity, at the ripe old age, of 26.  

She deserves someone, who very much, isn’t you. 

It takes a few minutes for you to come back around, pulling yourself from your oppressive thoughts, and you can see colourful stars in your eyes as you finally relieve the pressure you were forcing against them. Em offers you some water, and you down it while she stares at you, her brow wrinkled with worry.   

“Are you okay?”  

“Mhmm. I’m fine, sorry.”  

“You won!” She points out, with a cautious optimism, smiling at you as she chuckles softly. “You’re supposed to be celebrating, not ..whatever the hell this is.”  

“I’m really sorry, I just ..I don’t like people getting hurt.”  

“You wouldn’t have had to go to a hospital with her, it’s alright.”  

“Mm.”  

She gives you a hug, which lasts a suspiciously long time for her, and you can feel her jaw moving against your shoulder as she lifts her head slightly.  

“Are you okay?” You ask, frowning as you push her away from you.   

“Mhmm.” She mumbles, not moving her eyes away from whatever it is that she’s seen behind you. “Are you definitely fine?” She checks again, with a mild desperation to her voice.  

“..Yes?” You reassure her, turning around in your seat to try and follow her gaze.  

“I’ll see you in the morning, then!” She tells you hastily, and she nudges your arm, before tossing your sweatshirt from her bag at you, and straightening herself up.  

“Wait, what?” You question, rather baffled by her quick switch in focus. “Where are you going tonight?”  

Em just directs your vision up a few rows of seats, to a red-headed woman who has very clearly taken her fancy. They’ve been making googly-eyes at each other all match apparently. Since you wound your sister up earlier, with your unwavering new support for the enemy, and Chelsea have just crashed out of the Champions League again, she’s going home with her tonight, to drown her sorrows.   

She really does have an incredible success rate with the ladies, at least you won’t have to make breakfast for this one in the morning.  

 

“You’re off, just like that?” You ask.   

“We can hang out again tomorrow?”  

“Aw, I appreciate that, Em. Thanks!” 

She chuckles at you, bouncing on her toes. “Ring taxi-man.” She advises you with a wink. “Or try to find your mysterious hickey-man, again! You deserve to have fun tonight. Celebrate the win properly! Get yourself another love bite!”  

“Mm.” You mutter, and she crouches down in front of you again.  

“Are you sure you’re okay?” She asks. “I can stay with you, if you want?”  

“Hm? No, don’t be daft. It’s fine, really.  Thanks. Go, have fun.”  

She doesn’t hang around long enough for you to change your mind. She gives you a far quicker hug than the previous one, patting you on the head, before running off and introducing herself to her new friend at the steps. They both cast you a quick wave, which you return a little awkwardly, before they walk up towards the exit. Just as easy as that.  

“Be safe!” You call out to them behind you, as you turn your attention back to the celebrations on the pitch.  

It takes a long while for the atmosphere in the stadium to really start fizzling out, and there’s still a distinct little hum of excitement that rattles through it, as the crowd dwindles, and the players continue making their way around the grounds.   

Alexia grins up at you as she passes by your section, and you can only manage to give her a weak smile in return as you pat your leg at her with a questioning look. She smacks her knee a couple of times, smiling with a dramatic roll of her eyes, and she gives you a thumbs up to signal to you that she really is okay. She isn’t limping anymore as she heads over towards the fans, so you could almost pretend it hadn’t happened at all, if it hadn’t been quite so mentally draining.   

A fair amount of supporters still line the barriers, holding out shirts and signs, and just about anything else that they can get a player’s autograph scrawled onto. Most of them are shouting for Alexia’s attention, and her popularity and fame is still quite an overwhelming thing for you to take in.  

She doesn’t miss any of them, they all get their moment with her. She makes sure everyone gets seen too, everything gets signed. She doesn’t rush a single encounter, and you don’t miss the way people’s faces keep lighting up whenever she approaches them.  

It’s very hard not to keep falling for her, watching her interact with people, the way that she is with them. She’s just good. She’s good at what she does, she's good with her fans, she’s a good person.   

You’re biting at your thumb again.  

The knuckles on your other hand, turning white, with the vice-like grip that you have on her sweatshirt. Your legs are bobbing, and you can feel your fingers freezing up. There’s a lot of combatting emotions fighting for dominance in your head, and you’re very unsure of yourself.  

The Chelsea fans were in far less of a partying mood, clearly, as you find yourself the only one left in the away section. You watch Alexia converse with the ever-diminishing crowd for a moment longer, before deciding, maybe it’s time for you to go, too.  

This isn’t your world; you don’t belong in it. It’s been a fun time with her, and there’s definitely a something between you, that’s been nice to explore, but there’s clearly been some sort of mistake. A divine, serendipitous little mix-up. She can’t be the one for you, as you’re really not the right one for her. It’s okay for this to be it, it’s okay for you to go.  

You walk down to the barrier and carefully rest her sweatshirt over it. You can’t really also leave her football shirt behind with it, but she’s probably not desperate for that back. She’ll have loads of them lying about, there’s probably another one waiting in her training bag, ready for her to give to someone else.  

You pat at the sweatshirt a few times, debating with yourself, and you look back up across the pitch to where Alexia is still signing shirts. She almost certainly does deserve someone better than you but abandoning her is still quite a harsh thing for you to do, she definitely deserves better than that.  

You can’t just leave her and not give her a reason for it, that’s very cruel. She was excited to see you, she’ll be upset if you walk out on her.  

You crash your head down onto the sweatshirt trying to decide your next move, letting out a quiet groan as you draw a blank. She’s still preoccupied with her fans when you raise your head again, and you start pacing the length of the railing tapping the tips of your fingers together.  

You look back down at the sweatshirt, across to Alexia, and up to the exit. Down at the sweatshirt, across to Alexia, and up to the exit.  

Sweatshirt, Alexia, exit.  

Sweatshirt, Alexia, exit. 

Sweatshirt, Alexia, exit. Exit. Exit.  

You find yourself stuck on the steps, only a second later, facing away from the pitch, without her sweatshirt in your hands. You’re really not sure what your plan is. 

You do still have that number in your pocket, you could always give him a call, he really was very good-looking, exactly your usual type. Tall, dark, handsome. Friendly. Very friendly. It’s classic to you, it’s easy. Maybe your sister’s right. You need to have a meaningless night with some random company that you just don’t give a shit about.   

You really just don’t want to go out with him, though. There’s a woman on the other side of the pitch that your heart’s still lunging out in the direction of, who still puts butterflies in your stomach every time she so much as looks at you.  

You don’t want to leave. You like this woman too much. There’s something real between you. Something strong.  

Maybe it’s too strong.  

It’s impossibly strong.  

It’s a delusional level of strong.  

You’re almost at the final step before the exit, when you hear a little whistle from behind you and it stops you in your tracks. Maybe it was that little bungee cord between you both, that alerted her to your leaving.  

It sends another chill coursing up the back of your neck, and there’s an instant blurring to your vision, as your eyes start welling up. 

“Y/N?” She calls up to you, with a small strain to her voice, and you flinch, your gaze dropping to the floor. Your jaw clenches, and you freeze in place, closing your eyes, in the hopes of just disappearing from right there in front of her.  

You can still go, just keep walking. It would still be very hard for her to find you. She doesn’t have your surname, or your address, she doesn’t know your phone number. 

You can get a clean break.  

Leave it as a solo night of fun. The meaningless distraction from him, that it was always supposed to have been. Stop letting yourself fall for her. Stop letting yourself care and worry, about a woman that you barely know. Go home. Behave. Find yourself a man and get on with your regular life.  

There’s another cautious whistle as you debate with yourself, and your heart aches, hearing it echo around you. You shift your body weight, awkwardly, from your toes to your heels, and back again, a fair few times. You drum your fingers against your thighs, over your stomach, and you look up at the sky, searching for an answer.  

You need someone to give you a push, give you a sign that you’re not making another mistake. You want your sister to come back and slap some sense into you. You want your mother to tell you what to do, she always did have the right answers.  

You gently tap your fingers to your face, trying to pull yourself back into your body, as you study the stars above you.  

There seems to be a definite twinkle to one of them, and you really don’t care if you’re just seeing things. You’re looking for an excuse, any excuse, and a slight flicker in the sky, is exactly what you needed. 

You straighten yourself up, before letting out a long breath with a small nod. You bounce on your toes, and you give your eyes a quick rub, before you ever so slowly, turn yourself back around.   

You might still be an idiot. A whole damn blasted fool.  

But she’s impossible for you to walk away from. That’s just not how it’s going to work with her. She already means too much, you’re already in too deep. She’s set up shop inside of your head, she’s already living inside of your heart. You couldn’t walk away from her, even if you wanted to. 

She has your heart skipping beats, whenever she says your name. She has the rest of existence fading into nothingness around you, when all she’s done is take your hand in hers. She sends goosebumps down your neck when she whispers to you, has you rolling your eyes with a chuckle, when she’s being a playful windup. Your mind starts spinning when she kisses you, and you feel safe when you’re resting in her arms.  

You had one of the best afternoons of your life yesterday, doing nothing, but spend a bit more time with her. Learning about her, laughing with her, kissing her. She’s put a burning inside of you, and a smile on your face. You spent the whole of last night, wide awake, because you couldn’t wait to see her again. She told you that she couldn’t wait to see you, either.  

This isn’t a solo night of fun, it’s not a meaningless distraction. It never really has been with her. It might very well be your person, that’s waiting for you down there, and you’d only stand to lose everything, if you walk away from her now.  

You draw in a breath and look down to the sidelines of the pitch. It’s the greatest women’s footballer in the world, that’s leaning up against the stands for you, and she’s hoping, that you’re not about to leave her, not without at least saying goodbye to her first.    

She looks very small when you see her. All the grandeur, and spectacle that shrouded her during the game, has been completely wiped once again. She’s just Alexia, Ale, A. She’s just a woman that you met in a nightclub, just a girl that you’ve been getting to know.  

There’s a very obvious sense of worry in her, it’s not a look that often spreads across her face. She shuffles herself, tapping her hands gently on the sweatshirt over the barrier as she tilts her head down towards the ground, and you steadily make your way back down the steps towards her.  

“Felicitats.” You offer weakly, and she smiles softly up at you.  

“Gràcies.”  

“Is your knee okay?” 

“Yes.”   

“Are you sure?”  

“Yes. I promise.”   

“It wasn’t a very friendly challenge.” You tell her, frowning at the tunnel that the Chelsea player made her escape from you down. “You gave me a fright, when you didn’t bounce straight back up. Are you definitely okay?”  

“Yes, I’m fine!” She insists. “Look!” She tells you, patting her knee a few more times, and kicking her leg out to show you that it hasn’t fallen off. You can’t not smile back at her when she’s being so very cute, even if she is incredibly stupid. “I promise you, it’s fine.” She repeats, and you just have to believe her.  

“You didn’t fancy telling me your big secret, yourself?” You call out, as you continue making your way towards the pitch, glancing around the stadium, before sliding your hands into your back pockets.   

“It didn’t feel ..that important,” is the excuse she gives to you, as she picks at the fabric in her hands, “the night that we first met.”  

“And yesterday?” You push, crinkling your brow up slightly. “Still not that important?”  

Her gaze drops to the ground as you wait on the bottom step, and you nibble at the inside of your mouth. “Are you angry with me?” She asks nervously, quietly tapping her hands with a bit more agitation, and not yet meeting your eyes.  

There’s a painful twinge in your heart as you watch her unfamiliar mannerisms, you much prefer when she’s being insufferably cocky and annoying. It’s far less painful, a lot more fun.  

You let out a breath, before closing the rest of the distance between you both, and you gently rest your hands on top of hers, to stop her little nervous drum solo. She still doesn’t lift her head to face you, and you take in a shaky breath, readying yourself.  

“Do I seem angry?” You ask her quietly, trying to encourage her to look at you, as you delicately draw shapes on the backs of her hands, to distract you both a little from the obvious tension.  

You don’t miss the goosebumps that quickly form up Alexia’s arms as you do, and there’s a feeling that jolts inside of you, knowing that you both have the exact same effect on each other, even with the most casual of touches.  

She lifts her eyes to study your face, and she shakes her head, as you smile softy back at her.  

“Well, there you go then!” You tell her with a light chuckle, placing a kiss to her forehead before resting yourself against the railing between you both, and she lets out a wobbly breath. “Of course I’m not angry with you ..I did feel a bit stupid last night, that I really didn’t know.” You explain. “..I feel a bit intimidated, now that I do.”  

“I’m still just me.” She reminds you quickly, and you can see the shimmer in her eyes, as she tries to keep herself from cracking.   

You can’t help narrowing your eyes at her little claim as she collapses her head down into you, nestling it in the crook of your neck. “They call you the bloody queen, Alexia.” You remind her, and she shakes her head against you.  

“I hate that title.” She confesses. “I promise you, I’m still just me.” 

 

It’s hard to deny her that. When all of the noise has died out, and it’s only the two of you left. She is just her, she’s just another woman. A woman who is very clearly worrying about you and your reaction to her career. She knows that she stands to lose you because of it, and it’s very obvious, as her tears pool on your skin, that that isn’t something she wants to happen.   

Despite it still being ridiculously early days between you both, this connection that you feel so strongly, may very well be reciprocated by her, and it would be a shame, for a bit of football, to stand in the way of it.  

It’s terrifying, knowing that she can get hurt. Realising that everything she’s worked so hard her whole life for, rests on a knife’s edge, every time she steps foot onto the pitch. It isn’t easy, being made aware of how common of an injury it is, and how there’s no way of protecting her from it.   

If she’s going to get injured again, that’s just a harsh reality of football, and that’s a very difficult pill for you to swallow. It’s not a risk that you can stop her from taking, either. This is her dream, and you’d just have to support her through it. The good, and the bad.  

It’s also a little disconcerting, knowing how adored she is. The fact that she’s quite a bit famous, especially in this city, if nothing else. As much as you don’t want to let it seep into your mind, and affect your thoughts about Alexia too deeply, it’s impossible for it not to have altered things for you slightly.  

You’re only human, and you weren’t really fully prepped, on what her celebrity actually entailed. She was just another regular person to you yesterday, but in reality, she is clearly very far from that, and it’s a little unfair that she wasn’t the one to break the news to you. To give you some sort of heads up, before throwing you in at the deep end today.  

But ..you really were having fun, before it all went south. You were excited, you were proud, you were enjoying a football match. She does things to you. She brings out a side of yourself that you’ve never explored before, a side that’s laid dormant, for your entire life. She’s incredible, in ways that largely transcend her achievements on the pitch.   

Alexia’s never made you doubt yourself. She’s never given you any reason to question her interest in you, that’s one thing that she’s never been secretive about.  

She doesn’t know what you do for a living, but she probably correctly assumes that you’re not famous, and that hasn’t put her off at all. She doesn’t think she’s too good for you, she hasn’t treated you like you’re beneath her.  

Her fame doesn’t follow her everywhere, you were able to be completely oblivious to it, before your sister told you about it. It’s not debilitating, it doesn’t stop you from having moments together. It’s something you might have to get used to. Find a way of understanding it, learn how to cope with it. Especially on match days, when you really can’t ignore the actual magnitude of it. That wouldn’t be impossible for you to do.

  

There’s a connection between you both, it doesn’t matter how celebrated she is. You haven’t just shared a few careless kisses; it wasn’t just one night of meaningless sex. There’s something real between you both, and it already existed before you knew who she was. This madness that surrounds her, was always the reality; you were just unaware of it.  

There was a spark, regardless. You’d have the same connection with her if she was filling shelves in a supermarket, why should this be any different?  

She wasn’t put off by your lack of interest in football. She really wanted you here today. She gave you her shirt to wear. She told you she hoped you’d enjoy the game. There were tens of thousands of people in attendance this evening, and she searched for you, specifically.   

She deliberately put you in a contrasting shirt, so that she’d easily be able to find you, so that she’d definitely know that you came, and that you were here, watching her. That’s all she wanted. She just wanted you to see her play, and for you to have fun while doing it. She wanted you here, cheering her on. The best player in the world, and she's been choosing you. A little nobody from London.  

You’re allowed to be excited about that. You’re allowed to stop questioning her and second-guessing yourself. You don’t need to pay attention to the noise around you, the excited obsession with her from strangers, those distracting little seeds of doubt that he’s put into your head about yourself.  

There’s just her. There’s just Alexia, and she wanted you here.  

“Well ..just you,” you start softly, placing a kiss to the side of her head, “is a bloody lot more impressive than most people ..you were incredible out there.” You whisper shakily, and you can feel as she smiles against you, burying her head further into your neck.  

“You enjoyed it?” She breathes, and you can see a small bit of the weight that she’s bearing, lifting from her shoulders.   

“Until that moment. Yeah, I really did!” You tell her, smiling in mild disbelief at yourself. “I was worried, that I might have to pretend for you, but I just ..really loved watching you play, seeing you score!”  

“Were you quietly cheering?” She asks, pulling herself back from you, to excitedly take you in.   

“There was nothing quiet about it!” You admit with a grin, as you wipe away the streaks of tears on Alexia’s cheeks with the backs of your fingers. “You scored the winner!”  

The biggest smile spreads over her face at your bold act of tiny rebellion, and she pinches at the fabric of your shirt, gliding her fingers down the front of it, as she gives it a quick examination. “You were lucky they didn’t throw tomatoes at you, then!” 

“Mhmm! I did get a few words thrown at me, mind! There’s some horrible people about.” You tell her, as she continues holding onto your shirt. Her eyes meet yours and it’s a pair of nervous smiles that you exchange with each other. “I know it won’t mean much, coming from me. I’ve not watched a lot of football, and I know you have some pretty big awards for it, but ..you’re really bloody good! I’m so proud of you.”  

“It means everything.” She tells you ardently, pulling you into her over the railing. “I’m so glad you enjoyed it!”  

You let yourself get lost in her embrace for a moment, while she clings to the back of your shirt, and you can hear as her breath hitches when you place a quick kiss to her neck.  

“I really didn’t enjoy watching you get taken down, mind.” You reiterate, quietly.   

“No? I didn’t love that either, really.” She admits, chuckling to herself.  

“But you’re definitely okay?” You check again, pulling away from her to look properly at her leg.   

“Yes. I promise you. It’s fine, I’m fine. It just happens sometimes.” She shrugs.  

“Please don’t tell me that!” You beg, quickly shaking your head at her. “You can’t be putting me through that every match!”  

“Mm? You’ll be watching more games?” She asks, with that famous little smirk coming back into view as you nod your head at her.   

“I mean, it’s a bitch of a commute to do this weekly, but I’ll definitely be watching you on the telly, when I can’t make it.”  

“Wow.” She says, linking her arms together behind your neck. “You really did enjoy it.”  

“I know ..you’ve broken me!” You chuckle, as she rests her forehead to yours, and her lips are once again, the only thing you can focus on. You watch as she wets them in front of you, and it almost feels like she’s taunting you a little bit. “Are we allowed to kiss here?” You ask, trying to disguise your desperation, as you pull yourself away to scan the stadium.  

There’s only a few random stragglers making their exits up the steps, and none of them seem to be paying any attention to the pair of you at all. So, it might not be beyond the realms of possibility.  

Alexia takes your face in her hands and tilts your head. “Yes.” She tells you, simply, and she pulls you into her, capturing your lips with hers. She doesn’t do her own check of your surroundings at all; she really isn’t too fussed if anyone’s watching you both this time.  

It’s quite the romantic place to have a kiss, honestly. A huge colosseum, that’s almost entirely empty, a blanket of stars in the sky up above you. It’s not a kiss with any caution. It’s not hasty or secretive. It’s familiar, safe, and it’s able to finally be unreserved.   

It’s a kiss that the pair of you have been craving. One that doesn’t taste of tequila, that doesn’t have to be hidden from view, and one that doesn’t have the looming dread of immediate departure attached to it. It’s a slow deep kiss, that feels like home, and you’re quite content to drown yourself in it.  

“Where’s Em?” Alexia asks, and she really has ruined the moment.   

She seems unaware, as her lips are still moving against yours, but you freeze, breaking the kiss at her twisted choice of topic.  

“Woww?” You drag out, pulling back from her with a frown. “Mentioning my sister is a real mood-killer I do hope you realise!”  

“I’m sorry!” She giggles, trapping her bottom lip between her teeth.   

“You’re supposed to have come over here for me, not her!”  

“I did come over for you!” She tells you, rolling her eyes at your dramatics. “I just meant ..you’re here on your own.”  

“Mm. She left me.”  

“Why?”  

“She met a girl, while we were watching you play,” you explain, “they’ve gone back to hers already.”  

“Oh?” She questions, her eyes sparkling as she arches an eyebrow at you. “To play cards?”  

“Yeah,” you chuckle, “I think so.”  

She links her arms back over your shoulders, leaning in very close. “So ..you’re without company tonight?” She checks, her lips ghosting yours, and your heart starts racing again at the suggestive tone to her voice.   

“Mhmm. That’s quite sad, isn’t it? When I’m on holiday?”  

“That’s very sad.” She agrees, tracing your jawline with her index finger.  

It’s hard not to have a physical reaction to the way that she’s always touching you, and you swallow down as she angles your face to draw her mouth even closer to you, your breath catching in your throat as her lips brush against yours.  

“Are you short on company tonight?” You whisper, rather shakily.  

“Mhmm.”  

“Oof. That might be even sadder.” You point out, and she nods in agreement with a small pout, before finally succumbing to another long kiss.  

You breakaway, entirely short on breath, and she smiles as the obvious effect she’s just had on you as you try to come to your senses. “Do you ..not want to celebrate with your teammates?”  

“Not really.” She tells you, her pupils dilating as her eyes roam over your body.  

“Would you ..maybe, want to do something with me, then?” 

“Are you asking me on a date?” She asks, her cocky little smile curving her lips, and you chuckle despite yourself.   

“I really think I might be. You admit. “I don’t know what you’ve done to me!” You tell her, shaking your head with a smile. “I’d never looked at another woman before, never cared about a football result. Never asked someone out on a date.”  

“Mm? And now look at you.” She says, cradling your face as she searches your eyes. “Does it scare you?” She asks, stroking her thumb over your cheek, and you pause for a beat in consideration.  

“A little,” you confess, “but never when I’m with you.”  

Your candour earns you another kiss. Whether she’s fully aware of the power her lips have on calming your nerves, or she just fancied kissing you, you don’t really know, and you don’t really care. You welcome it the same way you’ve welcomed every other kiss from her, and the same way you’ll continue to welcome any future kisses from her, should you be so lucky.  

“Were you going to leave me?” Alexia asks after a moment, tapping at the sweatshirt again with a horrible look of uncertainty in her eyes.  

“I really don’t know.” You tell her honestly, and worry creases her brow, as you let out a breath. “I don’t think I’d have got very far,” you admit, “but it’s just ..been a lot to take in.”  

There’s a familiar look of understanding from her. It’s the exact same look she had given you when you’d stayed still in the hotel elevator, as she had made her exit. It’s a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes, that barely curves her lips. It’s a look of acceptance, resignation, and it’s a heartbreaking sight to see.   

“I don’t want to leave you.” You clarify. “I don’t really know ..what this is, between us, but I know how I feel about you, and I don’t want to run from it. I just know ..that you can probably do better.”  

You bop your own hand gently on the barrier in a fist, and she narrows her eyes at you. “What do you mean by that?” She asks, and you nibble at the inside of your mouth.   

“I freaked out ..when you went down. It got to me outside, seeing your name everywhere. I couldn’t ..really tell you what my sexuality is, at this point.” You take a breath, still knocking your fist awkwardly on the railing. “There’ll be so many other women, more sure of themselves, more ..prepared, and ready to embrace everything.” You explain, closing your eyes to stop them from stinging. “They won’t need to study your team before you play, they won’t go into a panic every time another player gets a little too close to you. They’ll be just as desperate to be with you, and they’ll be bett—”  

You’re cut off from your little ramble, with what you’re assuming was a kiss.  

Your eyes are closed, and it was unbelievably quick. You’d be forgiven for thinking you’d imagined it completely; it was really quite so fleeting. If the fireworks that Alexia’s set off on your lips weren’t quite so familiar to you, you might have thought it was a bee that had stung you. She’s really gone and left you all lightheaded with little more than a peck.  

“You kissed me!” You tell her breathlessly, as though she wasn’t the one to do it to you.  

“Mhmm. Imagine that.” She says, as she lets her eyes roam over your face with a small smile. “You studied the team?”  

“I know, I’m sorry.” You cringe. “I just didn’t want to not know who you played with. I mean, I didn’t even know who you were yesterday, what chance would I have had with any—”  

She kisses you again, the exact same way, leaving you with the exact same reaction.  

“You kissed me!” You repeat, and she chuckles at you, nodding her head.  

“Mhmm. You’re on vacation,” she reminds you, “and you spent the day studying my team?”  

“Mm.”  

“And you worried about me getting hurt?” 

“Mm.” 

“And you’re so desperately into me, that I’ve got you questioning your sexuality?” She winks.  

“I mean..” you chuckle softly, rolling your eyes, “..maybe.” 

“And you really think, that any of that ..would make me like you less?” She asks, narrowing her eyes with that familiar smirk.  

“Well ..sort of.” You admit. “I mean ..the studying. Most people wouldn’t need to do that.”  

“You didn’t need to do that.” She points out.  

“Mm ..no, I really think I did.” You chuckle. “I didn’t know anything about football this morning, you can ask Em.” 

“You don’t care about football.” She reminds you. 

“Maybe not ..but I care a little bit about you. I just knew it was important to you, I didn’t want to be completely clueless about it.” 

Alexia shakes her head at you lightly, before kissing you again. It’s not so quick this time, so you don’t need to be as embarrassed about her still leaving you lightheaded and short on breath.  

“You kissed me!” You repeat, a childish grin taking over your face, and she rests her forehead to your shoulder, chuckling at your excited little reaction. “So, you do still like me the same?” You double-check and she lifts her gaze to meet your eyes.  

She cradles your head in her hand, shaking her own lightly back at you as she rubs her thumb over your cheek. “I think I might like you even more.” She tells you. “I wasn’t really sure that would be possible after yesterday.”  

“Really?” 

“Mhmm.”  

“Well ..what else are you into? I can study anything.”  

She giggles at your eagerness before kissing you again. “I’m very into you.” She says, and your eyes light up in front of her.  

“That’s so unbelievably lucky, I know almost everything about her already!”  

“Yeah? Then maybe we’re perfect for each other.” She tells you, with a distinct conviction in her voice that sends that special little thrill running right through your body as she pulls you in for another kiss. 

 

“So ..is that a ‘yes’?” You ask. “To maybe going on a date with me? It’s a bit late now, I know, but we still have tomorrow.” You suggest, beginning to stumble over your words. “I know it’s probably not the smoothest way you’ve ever been asked out. I’m new to this. I’m not very good, but I’ll work on it. I’ll get better.” 

“I think you’re already better than you think you are.” She tells you softly, resting her forehead to yours. “I’d love to go on a date with you.” 

“Even though my head’s a mess and I’m still figuring things out?” 

“Mhmm.” She giggles, gently rolling her bottom lip under her teeth. “I’ll help you figure things out. We’ll work it all out together.” She offers.  

“That could be a lot of work.” 

“I know, and I really think you might be worth it.” She tells you, giving you another gentle kiss. “I’m sorry all of this got to you. I should have told you about it yesterday, but ..I didn’t want to scare you off.” She explains. “I know it can be a lot, I don’t love every part of it..” 

“It’s okay, I don’t think anything could’ve prepared me for it, really. I knew you’d have a lot of fans ..it was just seeing them all. Like this ..Alexia army.” 

“I’m so sorry.” 

“Please don’t be. You have nothing to apologise for.” You reassure her. “Not unless all those other buggers also got their shirts from you?” 

“No,” she chuckles, running her fingers up the front of the fabric on your body, “you’re the only one.” 

“I should probably feel quite special, then.” You wink. “People would kill to be wearing this.” 

“Mhmm. You are special.” She tells you, her fingers trailing the neckline of your shirt. She pulls you back into her, her lips feathering yours. “You’re in my top three for a reason.” 

The barrier’s proving to be a little bit of a pest to the pair of you, what with it being such a hindrance to all of your kissing. After receiving confirmation from Alexia, that no one would attack you for joining her on the grass, you throw her sweatshirt on over your head, and quickly negotiate the railing to be with her. 

It might be your favourite place to be, just melting into her arms as she holds you against her. Even though she’s still a little bit gross from running around for so long, you wouldn’t really swap it for anything.  

Your eyes flick around the stadium as you look over her shoulder. There’s a faded majesty to the arena when it’s empty like this. You’re the only ones still out here and the beauty of the place isn’t lost on you, as you get to share it with Alexia. It feels more special without thousands of other strangers crammed in here with you, it’s like a secret discovery you’ve both stumbled upon. A vast abandoned colosseum, existing just for you two.  

“Does it not freak you out, playing in a place like this?” You ask her. 

“Not really.” She tells you, rather casually, joining you in staring up at the stands.  

“There’s so many eyes watching you.” 

“Mm. You sort of just block it all out.” She says. “You can hear everything, all the chanting and singing, but you don’t really pay too much attention to it. Not until you score, and then again at the end of the game. It isn’t really scary at that point, though. Then it’s just thousands of other people celebrating with you.” 

“You’re quite amazing,” you realise, gently nudging into her, “I think I’d shit myself.” 

She giggles at your blunt confession, intertwining her hand with yours. “I’d probably freak out if I did that in front of everyone.” She admits, kissing your fingers. “That’d be quite hard to live down.” 

“Do you not get nervous at all?” 

“No.” She tells you, simply. “I’ve worked hard for this. I trust myself; I trust the team. Us playing in stadiums like this, in front of crowds like that, it’s what we deserve. It’s what we’ve been doing it all for.” She drops her head momentarily, taking in a breath. “I wasn’t too sure I’d get the chance to play again at all, after..” she gestures loosely down to her leg and stands a little taller as her grip on your hand tightens, “I don’t take it for granted, that I’m able to be here. It’s where I’ve always wanted to be. I’m not going to waste time being scared of it.” 

There’s a different air of confidence to her on the pitch as you watch her. It’s not the same playful cockiness that she so often uses with you. It’s not arrogance, she isn’t being smug. She’s just proud of herself, the journey that she’s been on. She’s proud of where she is, she’s proud of her teammates and she really has every bloody right to be.  

“Are you okay?” She asks, her brow crinkling lightly as she looks to you. “You’re staring.” 

“Sorry. You’re just ..very beautiful.” You shrug, and you can see a small flush of colour settle over her cheeks as she smiles before quickly averting her eyes.  

“You haven’t told me what it is that you do for a living.” She reminds you, shirking the focus away from her as she walks backwards a little ahead of you, pulling you along with her. “We had an agreement.” She reminds you.  

“I think it’s far less exciting than your big reveal.” You warn her. “I’m just in finance ..banking.”  

You offer it with a tone of apology to your voice, which she certainly picks up on as she smiles at you and takes your other hand in hers. “That’s very impressive.” She assures you and a blush spreads across your own cheeks as she interlaces her fingers with yours. “You’re quite clever?”  

“I’m not too bad with numbers.” You chuckle.  

“Do you enjoy it?” She asks, and you nod your head.  

“That must seem ridiculous to you.” 

“Not at all. Are you good at it?” 

“Oof ..I’m not awful.” You smile. “I’ve actually been named ‘Employee of the Year’ on more than two separate occasions.” 

“Have you really?” She giggles.  

“Mhmm. That’s the same as those balloon awards of yours, right?” 

“Mhmm. Yes. Yeah ..I think that’s the exact same thing.” 

She really must like you if she’s willing to lie like that. There is slight tone of sarcasm to her voice, and rightly so. Your sister’s explained to you what a Ballon d’Or is, and Alexia being presented with it, for two years on the trot, is no mean feat. She’s been recognised for being the undisputed best at her profession, globally. You’ve received ‘Employee of the Year’ bonuses because your boss is a filthy pervert with a crush on you. These are not the same things at all.  

It’s very sweet of her to downplay her achievements for you and there’s something about her lack of arrogance with her career that’s very intriguing. She almost minimises her own importance, ignores the significance, and the impact that she’s had on the sport. It’s really just a regular job to her. She’s ‘just’ a footballer.  

She takes genuine pride in it, but she’s not gloating at all, she’s not bragging. Without her fans around her, you really wouldn’t know how big of a sensation she actually is. The fame and accolades really aren’t what she’s done any of this for. She just loves playing the game.  

“You’re staring again.” She points out, kissing your forehead.  

“You’re ..still very beautiful.” You tell her, offering up another shrug in lieu of any better explanation for your continual admiration of her.  

She places a kiss to the back of your hand, and her eyes twinkle over it as she meets your gaze. “We should get out of here.” She tells you. “I need to have a shower, but then we can go.” 

“Do you want me to wait here?” You offer, and she frowns at you in confusion. “So that you don’t have to introduce me to anyone.” You explain, and she giggles, shaking her head.  

“A few of them would probably recognise you.” She says, and a hot flush of embarrassment spreads right through your body.   

“Shit! For being drunk and angry?” 

“Mhmm! And straight.” She reminds you with a wink. “I think they quite like you, don’t worry. Mapi’s definitely a fan already.” 

A small groan falls from your mouth as you remember your rather unfortunate behaviour from that night, and it’s hard not cringe at yourself. It’s amazing you made such a good impression on Alexia, all things considered, but it’s a bit embarrassing to realise there was more than one world-class footballer watching your drunken antics.  

“I’ll have to stay out here.” You grimace. “That’s horrific!” 

“They’re probably already gone!” She giggles. “We’ve been out here for a while.” She places another kiss to your forehead, before walking backwards towards the tunnel holding her hand out for you to join her. “Are you coming?” 

You nod your head at her but make no real effort to move from where you are. “I never thanked you.” You call out to her, and she stills herself, tilting her head.  

“For what?” She chuckles, narrowing her eyes.  

“For saving me that night. From that old man ..I really don’t know where I’d be now if you hadn’t.” 

A grin splits her face, and she doesn’t miss a beat. “Therapy, probably!” She says, and her laugh echoes in the air around you.  

You quickly pull her sweatshirt back up to hide your face under it, shaking your head in shame, because she’s almost certainly right. It would have taken you a very long time to recover from waking up next to him the following morning. You definitely wouldn’t have been going for seconds, thirds and fourths with him all night. He’d have had a heart attack trying to compete with Alexia’s stamina.  

“He was so gross.” She reminds you, pulling the sweatshirt down as she returns to you. “You were very drunk.” 

She pushes the loose hairs back from over your face, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips as she cups your face.  

“I don’t remember you helping me with that.” You point out. “I had more drinks with you than anyone else.” 

“Mm ..I quite liked being inappropriate with you. You were very daring,” she recollects, kissing you again, with her cocky little smile, “you’d already licked most of me before we even left the club!” 

“You started it!” You remind her, and she giggles in front of you.  

“Well, if that was a competition we were having, I think you certainly won!” She admits. “I’m sure abuelo would have enjoyed drinking with you just as much.” 

“Oof. Please don’t.” You mutter, suppressing a gag. “I think I’d have slapped him if he’d tried licking me.” 

Alexia laughs again, lifting your hand to her lips, to place a kiss to the back of it, and she winks at you, before she licks all down it with her tongue.   

“You’re such a child!” You giggle, wiping your hand against your shirt, and she winks at you again. “You could’ve been here with that girl from the toilets.” You point out. “At least she was very pretty.” 

“I know.” She sighs wistfully. “It’s a shame someone stole me from her.” 

“Mmm ..okay.” You mutter, rolling your eyes.  

She shakes her head with a small smirk, taking your hand and pulling you into her before wrapping her arms around your waist. “I’m glad I’m here with you.” She tells you, lightly bumping her nose to yours. “Bit scary of you, though. Following me all the way out here!” 

“I didn’t follow you!” You tell her, removing yourself from her hold. “I barely even remembered you existed before you draped your arm over me in that café.” 

“You’re a terrible liar.” She scoffs. “You even followed us into that toilet.” 

“No, I didn’t!” You chuckle, crossing your arms in front of you as you smile up at her. “You followed me, though. Couldn’t keep you away!” 

“Mm ..maybe I really should’ve stayed with her instead.” 

“Okaay, that’s enough of that. She’s gone now, you missed your chance with her!" 

“Are you still jealous?” She winks, running her hands down your sides before slinking them back around your waist.  

“I wasn’t jealous. She was just ..all over you. In the toilet, of all places! It was very gross of you both, very unsanitary.” 

“Is that why you wanted to interrupt us?” She smirks, tilting her head very close to yours. “Bumped into me to stop me from catching germs? You’re very cute.” 

“That was an accident.” 

“You’re a terrible liar!” She laughs.  

“You were winding me up! Kissing someone else, what were you playing at?” 

“You went to go kiss men!” She points out.  

“I didn’t kiss any of them, though.” 

“It’s not my fault you were unsuccessful!” 

“I wasn’t unsuccessful!” You giggle, pushing her away from you. “I didn’t want to kiss any of them. I had one person on my mind that night, and I was actually very successful in getting her to kiss me ..eventually.” 

“I was on your mind?” She asks, bouncing her eyebrows as she rests her hands on your hips.  

“You’re so annoying, always so cocky.” You roll your eyes, linking your hands behind her neck before pulling her down to kiss you. “Yes. You were on my mind.” You admit, collapsing your head to her chest. “You’re always on my mind. You’re like a bloody broken record in here.” 

She kisses the top of your head, wrapping her arms around your shoulders. “You’re always on my mind too.” She whispers. “I don’t think I’ve really stopped thinking about you at all since I first saw you in that club.” 

“When you shoved that bloody lime in my face?” You mumble against her.  

“I didn’t shove a lime in your face!” She laughs. “I held it for you, I was being helpful.” 

“Mm ..well, then I owe you two lots of thanks.” You realise, lifting your head to meet her eyes. “One for your ..handy little lime assistance, and one for saving me from that ancient creeper. I am genuinely grateful for the second one.” 

“You don’t need to thank me for either of them.” She tells you. “I was being selfish really.” 

It’s difficult to know just how much time you both managed to kill outside, but the dressing room’s completely empty by the time you two make your way through to it. You sit, patting your hands against your thighs, as Alexia goes for her shower, and you try to keep yourself entertained without her.  

There’s a lot of things for you to look at in the room, lots to take in. There’s a history to the stadium, which should be interesting to have a backstage pass to. It’s a privilege, being in here. Legends have roamed these halls, sporting greats from decades past. It’s very exciting for you to be granted access to it, and yet, none of it’s at all fascinating to you when you know there’s a wet, naked lady in the other room.  

You continue drumming out your frustrations as you try to stop yourself from thinking of Alexia in the shower.  

All on her own. In the shower.   

Alone.  

Showering.  

You really just can’t help yourself.  

She doesn’t take too long to return to you and a loud gasp falls from your lips when she re-emerges.  

“¿Qué?” She winks, and the blush doesn’t even have the courtesy of creeping up on you, you’re just immediately bright red.  

“You’re naked.” You inform her, very quietly, in case she hadn’t already realised. 

“Mhmm.” 

“Wow..” You breathe, gritting your teeth as you try to remain calm.

“Oh? That’s so funny. I seem to remember that being the exact same reaction to the one you had last time!” 

“Heh heh heh!” You draw out slowly, rolling your eyes at her unremitting need to be cocky.  

She leans against the wall in front of you, and it really isn’t very easy to maintain eye contact with her when her body’s on full display in front of you. It doesn’t feel like she’s particularly bothered about your wandering eyes, which is really rather lucky, because you’re not exactly doing it with any level of subtlety.  

This isn’t really helping in keeping all of the dirty thoughts that you’ve been having about her at bay. You’re also going to split your lip open if you keep biting down on it as hard as you are. 

She moves towards you steadily, and your heart starts beating in double time. “You’re staring.” She tells you, yet again, and you nod at her very astute observation skills.  

“You ..are ridiculously beautiful.” You point out, struggling to keep your composure as she steps within reaching distance. “You’re also very dry.” You realise with a frown, trapping your hands under your legs. “You’re supposed to be having a shower so that we can get the hell out of here!” 

“Mm.” She hums, hooking a finger under your chin and tilting your head up to face her. “I was wondering if you might want to keep me company?” She says, and you have to gasp again at her very friendly little suggestion.  

“In the shower with you? While you’re naked?” You grin, and she chuckles, nodding her head.  

“Mhmm. I was hoping you might want to get naked too.” 

“Oof. What an incredibly tempting offer.” You admit, bobbing your legs as you wet your lips. “I just need a few minutes to really think about it.” 

“Mm?” She shakes her head and folds her arms. “You have two seconds before I’m revoking.” 

“Two seconds? Do you see what I mean about you being cocky and annoying? You think I fancy you that badly? That I’m that desperate and needy that I’ll just cave as soon as you—” 

“Uno.” 

“I’m in!” You exclaim, jumping to your feet with embarrassing haste. “I’m in I’m in I’m in I’m in I’m in!” You continue mumbling against her lips to make sure that she doesn’t start her unnecessary counting again.  

You make very light work of pulling both layers off over your head in one swift motion, and Alexia looks rather impressed with your efficiency as she drags her thumb down the middle of your torso. She bites her lip with her eyebrow arching slightly, as she takes you in, and you do feel a little bit proud of yourself.  

“I’ve been going to the gym a lot.” You tell her, tensing slightly to show off your progress.  

“I can tell.” She says, running her thumb back up your stomach.  

“Really?” You grin, trying to ignore the goosebumps that have spread over your skin from her touch. “I slept with this girl whose body made me drool.” You admit, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “Felt like I was letting the side down a bit, so.” 

“I think you’re beautiful naked.” She tells you, and your heart skips a beat as her eyes darken over you.  

“That’s very crazy! That’s the same thing that she kept saying!” 

“Mm?” She loops a finger through your belt buckle, drawing you in closer to her.  

“It does turn out that she’s a professional athlete, though. So, I might have to just settle for being second best.” 

She chuckles at you, shaking her head. “All this ..is for her benefit?” She asks, leaning into you.  

“Mm. Well ..I wasn’t really sure I’d ever find her again,” you admit, letting out a very cautious exhale, “..but no one else has seen me..”

 

It’s a pointed confession from you, carrying a lot of added weight to it. Neither of you owe each other any loyalty from that night and you’d have no real right to be hurt, if she has explored other options. It’s not a test from you, you know it wouldn’t really change things, you did give it a try yourself, to be with someone else.  

It didn’t feel right to you, when it wasn’t with her, you could barely even flirt with another person, but you can’t really have any negative reaction, if Alexia hasn’t had that same struggle. There’s a morbid curiosity in you, perhaps, given the direction your previous relationship went in, and you can only hope, that she will treat your heart more gently than he did.  

She doesn’t know, that you were cheated on, she wouldn’t know, what her own admission would mean to you. You’re offering yourself up unprotected, to a woman who isn’t aware of the bomb she could be setting off inside your chest. It’s a silent plea from you, that this really has been as all-consuming to her, as it has been to you, and it’s very a big ask of someone, who you’ve only met thrice.  

Her eyes pierce through to your soul, as she studies you, and it’s excruciating, waiting for her to give you something. There’s a clear caution in her, of what she’s about to tell you, and you’re not certain if it’s guilt, or sympathy, or something else entirely.  

“Really?” She asks, and her voice is hoarse, as her eyes narrow at you. You can’t trust yourself with words right now, so you only offer her a silent nod, and there’s a glimmer in her eyes at your promise. She’s tentative, and nervous, and the mystery that once shielded her eyes when you first looked into them, is slowly dissolving in front of you. It isn’t guilt or sympathy that she’s feeling, she’s scared of letting you in.  

It’s not unreasonable for her to have her own concerns, regarding you. You were incredibly pig-headed, about being straight, the night that you first met. You told her your relationship had ended only recently, and then you jumped straight into bed with her.  

She can be certain that you’re attracted to her, you haven’t hidden that very well, but she has no real reason to assume that she isn’t a rebound, or a little sexuality test for you. You’re not the only one putting yourself in a vulnerable position here, she also stands to get hurt from this.  

There’s the slightest hint of a smile on her face, as she accepts that you’re telling her the truth. The subtle confession, that the girl who was so relentlessly hunting for some random male company the night that Alexia first met her, hasn’t been on that same hunt since, clearly means as much to her, as a similar confession would mean to you.  

“I haven’t been with anyone else either.” She tells you, and it breathes life back into your lungs.  

You catch her entirely off guard as you press your lips against hers, but she’s very quick to catch up with you. There’s a distinct desperation in the kiss this time, a fervent hunger. An intense desire to make known how much she means to you, to show her that the small question mark that you have over your sexuality, doesn’t extend to any questions about her. You’re in no doubt of your feelings, you’re very certain of what you want.  

Actions speak louder than words, clearly, and you’re definitely not leaving anything up to speculation. The passion in you continues to build and it’s Alexia who’s left breathless, when you finally pull away. You’ve rendered her speechless, and she blinks hard a few times as she lifts her fingers to her lips, before collecting herself again.  

You’re sporting her smirk as she looks back at you, and she rolls her eyes with a shy smile. “Are you getting naked, or what?” She asks impatiently, and a laugh rings out from inside of you.  

“Oof. I love when you’re romantic with me, baby.” 

This might actually be your favourite place to be. Not the random shower stalls, they’re not particularly important to the rush that’s shooting through you. It’s entirely down to the wet and naked company that you have in here.  

Reacquainting yourself with the curves and the ridges of her body, having her pressed up against you as her hands explore yours. It’s exciting just being back with her, your body’s on fire under her touch, your soul’s been reawakened, and none of the scenarios you kept playing through in your head, could ever really compare to having the real thing in front of you again.  

“Is your leg still sore?” You ask, placing kisses along Alexia’s jawline as she leans her back against the tiles.  

“I’ve already told you, that it’s fi—“ 

“Because I was thinking,” you interrupt, cutting her off with a kiss to her lips, “we should probably take some precautions.” You suggest, and her eyes narrow as she smiles slyly at you. “We wouldn’t want to aggravate it..” 

“Mm.” She nods, trapping her tongue between her teeth. “Are you offering to get down on your knees for me?” She asks you knowingly, tangling her fingers in your hair.  

“Mhmm ..for the good of the team.” You offer, feigning herosim as you kiss along her chest. “For football.” 

“Mm ..well, I did score the winning goal.” She reminds you.  

“Well, exactly, and that deserves to be celebrated.” 

She chuckles, as she pulls you back into her by your neck, catching you a little off guard as her tongue re-enters your mouth. “I really have missed you.” She murmurs against your lips.  

“Mm but like ..as a person,” you check, pulling back slightly, “not just my bloody tongue?” You pout softly up at her as she giggles with a nod. “Because I’m quite nice company for you to have around ..I’m very cute and funny.” 

“You’re adorable and hilarious.” She agrees, running a finger up the middle of your torso. It sends goosebumps all along your body again, which she’s acutely aware of as that smirk is very much back on her face.  

“But in like a sexy way.” You tell her, trying to ignore the heat she’s sent through you, and she continues to nod her head as she bites her lip. “Like a ..'I should take that girl home with me and do dirty things to her' kind of way."

“Is that what you’d like me to do to you?” She asks, with her eyebrow arching.  

“After our shower ..yes please.” 

“Okay.” She promises, tangling her fingers even further as she kisses you. “Then drop to your knees.” She instructs you, and much like a loyal little soldier, you’re very quick to do as you’re told.  

She’s never really been quite so assertive with you, and a mild moan escapes you from it, as you traverse down her body, leaving a trail of kisses as you make your descent. She tightens her grip on you as she tilts your head to look back up at her, sending a dull pleasure running through you, before she guides you to the place where she’s wanting you most.  

It ends up being one of the longest showers of your life, and you’re lucky to be leaving the stadium together before you both get locked inside of it.  

Discussion turns to sleeping arrangements as you walk the length of the parking lot. Neither of you have any intentions of going home without the other, despite the lateness of the hour, and it feels like there’s an obvious choice for where you’ll end up staying. The hotel isn’t the best place for you tonight. The receptionist would undoubtedly recognise the company you’re keeping, and despite Em being out for the night, she isn’t exactly known for hanging around with her lady-friends the morning after.  

You don’t really want to have to kick Alexia out super early, and Em catching the pair of you tangled up in bed together when she gets back, also doesn’t sound ideal.  

“Are you scared of dogs?” Alexia asks as she opens her car door for you.  

“No..” 

“Then we’ll go back to mine.” 

“You told me Nala was a Pomeranian?” 

“She is.” 

“Well ..then even if I was scared of dogs, I probably wouldn’t be afraid of her.” You giggle, placing a kiss to her temple before getting into your seat.  

“I was just checking.” She tells you as she joins you in the car.  

“Is she unfriendly?” 

“No, she is a very good judge of character, though.” She warns, with a smile that’s mildly disconcerting.  

“Oh ..so it’s a red flag if she takes a disliking to me?” 

“Mhmm. I’d have to kick you out!” 

It doesn’t feel like a fully-fledged threat from her, but there is a tone to her voice, that tells you she’s not completely joking either.

She starts up her car and rests her hand on your leg as she sets off from the stadium. Her fingers trace circles on the inside of your thigh and you have to link her hand with yours as she starts trailing up, to stop her from doing too much when the goosebumps quickly form along your skin. 

“I’m sorry,” she offers, “you don’t like it?” 

“I might like it a bit too much.” You chuckle, placing a kiss to the back of her hand, before placing it back in your lap.  

It’s hard to stop your eyes from drooping a little in the car, you really are very exhausted. You rest your head against your seatbelt and dig the nails of your free hand into your leg to try and stop you from falling asleep. You have limited time with Alexia as it is, and you don’t want to miss out on any precious minutes.  

There’s something unfortunately hypnotic about the glow from the streetlamps above you, though, which isn’t super helpful with your plight. The light pulses through the windows as Alexia drives, and you give your head a shake when you find your eyelids getting too heavy.  

“Are you okay?” She asks, a little alarmed at your sudden spasm.  

“Mhmm.” You mumble, stifling a yawn. “I really need you to keep talking to me, please. I don’t want to fall asleep.” 

“What do you want to talk about?” 

“Anything.” 

She stares out at the road in front of her, losing herself in thought for a moment. She raises your hand to her lips to place a lingering kiss to your fingers, and she bops her other hand on the steering wheel.  

“I asked after your initial.” She tells you whimsically, and your face scrunches, not at all following what she means.  

It was a very weird thing for her to say to you, it’s not entirely down to your sleepiness that you didn’t understand.  

“Sorry?” You ask, and her grip on your hand tightens. 

“I was back in London last week ..I went back to that club.” She reveals, and your heart misses a beat as she speaks. “I was hoping, maybe you’d be in there again ..looking for a man.” She rolls her eyes and drums her fingers over the wheel. “I was worried ..that you might have already found one, when you weren’t there.” You place another kiss to the back of her hand, and her fingers twitch as they link through yours. “I think we made a big impression on that bartender.” She giggles.   

“Bless him. We really did put on quite the show.” 

“Mhmm! He was there again, when I went. I asked him about you, and he said he definitely remembered us, but he told me he really had no idea who you were.” A sigh escapes her lips, and she taps at the steering wheel again. “I couldn’t stay in there for very long.” She admits. “It gave me a headache. It was bad enough being in the same hotel. I did have a roommate this time, so ..we really did end up playing cards together, but ..I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Knowing you had to be near, but I’d never be able to find you.” 

“I could’ve gone to that game.” You tell her thoughtfully. You stroke your thumb along the side of her index finger and clench your jaw. “Em invited me, and I told her to bore off.” You explain. “If I’d have had any idea ..I’d have been front row for you. I hate that we missed out on time together.” 

“We’re together now.” She points out quickly.  

“Only until tomorrow night ..then we’re right back where we started.” 

“Not really.” She assures you, giving your hand a squeeze. “We know who we are now. We know where we are, we’ll swap numbers.” 

“And we’ll what, make a proper go of it? With all of these miles between us?” 

Her jaw tightens slightly as she continues staring out in front of her. “If you also want to.” She says softly.  

“I’ve never really loved the idea of doing long-distance.” 

“You don’t think it works?” She asks you, and her voice cracks slightly.  

“I know that it can. It’s just ..not ideal.” You sigh.  

“You’d miss me too much?” She smirks, and you shake your head with a small smile.  

“Maybe.” You admit. “Why’d you have to be bloody Spanish?” 

“You’d prefer me to come from London?” 

“Yes! I mean ..you wouldn’t sound as lovely, but at least you’d be local.” You point out. “It’d be far easier.” 

“Mm.” She mumbles. “Well ..you could have been from Barcelona, that would’ve been helpful.” She pulls the car up outside of her home, and you stare out at it through the window. “Come on.” She tells you, patting your thigh as she opens her door. “We won’t have to worry about any of this if Nala doesn’t like you!” 

Alexia greets you at your side of the car and takes your hand as she leads you to the door. “¡Buena suerte!” She whispers, and you’re not 100% sure what it means, as she gives you a very dramatic look of dread before she pushes through the entrance. 

It feels like she’s really trying to worry you, but it would be very harsh to send you back to your hotel with your tail between your legs because her dog’s barked at a stranger. You’re not exactly Dr Dolittle but are you a fan of animals, and you’d be quite upset yourself if Nala didn’t take a liking to you.  

You’re attacked, as soon as you step through the door. It’s not an uncontrolled ravaging that you receive, Nala certainly isn’t rabid. It’s a very excitable licking that you’re greeted with, it would seem that dogs really are like their owners. It really isn’t the big and scary personality test that Alexia likes to pretend it is at all, but she might have already known it wasn’t going to be a dealbreaker when she pushed you into the house with this vicious scary animal before her.  

“Well, shit.” She sighs, looking down at you as you play with her dog on the floor, and the rare expletive from her mouth rings very cutely in your ears.  

“What?” You giggle, craning your neck to meet her gaze.  

“Now we might have to worry about it.” 

You lift Nala into your arms and rise to your feet. A toothy smile spreads across your face as you move towards Alexia, and there’s a lot of affection for you being carried in her eyes.  

“She quite likes me.” You point out, and Alexia nods her head, trapping her bottom lip between her teeth. “And she doesn’t even know what I’m saying to her.” You place a kiss to the top of Nala’s head. “You might have to teach me some Spanish ..so we can have a proper conversation.” You tell her, bobbing Nala in your arms as you bury your face in her fur. “It’d make my trips out here a bit easier too.” 

Alexia’s eyes widen slightly at your casual words of intent, and she beams at you as you give her dog another kiss. “You do want to give us a go?” She asks.  

“Mhmm. I think I’d be crazy not to.” 

“It could be a lot of work.” She tells you, and you nod, smiling up her. 

“I know ..and I really think you might be worth it.” 

A full smile takes over her face as she quickly takes Nala from your arms and places her back down on the floor, before giving you a quick kiss. She pulls you through with her to let Nala do her business outside, and something shiny on the wall draws your eye. 

“These are all your trophies?”  

“..Some of them.” 

“Blimey!” You chuckle, as you move closer to them all. You keep a small distance, crossing your arms to make sure you don’t accidentally knock anything, and you study one, in particular, that’s caught your attention. “You made my sister cry, when you got this one.” You tell her, pointing to her World Cup medal. “I thought something terrible had happened when she rang me.” 

“I’ll have to apologise to her," she winks, “when we meet.” 

“Mm. You’ll have to apologise for today’s match, too.” You point out with a grin. “You’ve ruined her life a few times, I think.” 

Nala makes her way back inside, brushing against your legs as she scurries off to who knows where, and a finger tapping at your shoulder, distracts you from your perusal of Alexia’s trophy cabinet. She smiles as you turn to face her, and she runs her finger down your nose before giving you a quick kiss. 

“Oh my god!” Escapes your lips in a breathy giggle as Alexia lifts you into her arms and you wrap your legs around her waist. “Hi.” 

“Hi!”  

It’s a passionate kiss that she gives you, and any sense of tiredness that was taking over your body a few minutes ago, is very quickly forgotten as you lose yourself in her.

“I can walk.” You remind her, as she carries you towards her bedroom. 

“I don’t care.” 

You’re almost winded when your back hits the mattress, as she flings you onto it, a little carelessly. You’d probably be more stroppy about it, if she didn’t pull her shirt off before joining you on the bed. She didn’t bother putting a bra on after your shower and you’re very easily distracted.  

It is her actual eyes you find yourself fascinated by this time, though. They really are very beautiful, and there’s far less mystery lingering in them now. It’s tenderness you see in them as she looks over you, silent intimacy, devotion, and the idea of eyes being the window to the soul has never seemed more true to you.  

There’s an honesty in her eyes that far exceeds any words she could ever say to you, but you’re fairly sure you know what she’s thinking. You’re almost certain, in fact, and you feel compelled to confess something to her yourself. 

“You. are. staring. again.” She tells you, punctuating each word with an increasingly deeper kiss.  

“Mhmm.” You concede, and your hands rest on her hips as she smiles down at you. You swallow down carefully as your eyes meet hers, and your heart skips a few more beats. “I really think ..that I might be falling for you.” You profess, and her pupils dilate as she smiles down at you. “Is that ridiculous? To fall for someone so quickly?” 

“I don’t think so.” She says, her brow furrowing slightly. “Sometimes you just know.” 

“Would it be okay ..if I did start falling?” 

“Mhmm.” She runs her finger under your chin, rubbing her thumb over your bottom lip, before leaning herself down over you. “I’m falling for you, too.” She tells you, before pulling you into her by your neck.  

It’s different, from the sex you’ve had with other people before, being with Alexia. It never seems to be quick, and it doesn’t feel one-sided. You’re not left wanting after it, it isn’t unfulfilling. There's a continual desperate desire in you, to have her be with you, and to make sure that she’s also feeling good. It’s not a chore, and it isn’t something that she’s demanding from you.  

There’s passion between you, affection, and it’s an equal offering from you both. It’s exciting, it’s fun, and it puts all your past experiences to shame. There’s an innocence in your enjoyment of each other, it really isn’t just a physical act between the two of you. It’s a bearing of your soul to each other, every time, and it’s no wonder at all, that you’re falling as quickly as you are. 

There’s far more confidence in you now. You’re not having to follow Alexia’s lead quite so much. You know her body, what she likes you doing to it, and you savour every second of having her back under you. Every whimper and moan that you’re able to coax from her, how she feels around you, the taste of her on your tongue. Having her able to cry out your actual name this evening, has also set your soul on fire. Hearing it echo around in the showers, having her moan it like a quiet secret into your ear, as she grips at the sheets beneath her. 

Alexia does have you entirely at her mercy when she chooses to take back control, and whether she really did appreciate you being so selfless by caring about her injury in the shower, or the fact that Nala took to you quite so quickly, you can’t be certain, but you’ve definitely done something to have her wanting to treat you extra nicely, before you remind her that she doesn’t need to be quite so gentle with you.  

This isn’t your first time; you’re very much wanting her to have her wicked way with you. 

It satisfies the burning inside of you, completely, satiating your hunger, and happily leaving you a little worn out after everything. She’s in a similar state of exhaustion, panting when she collapses back down onto you. So, you can probably give yourself a little pat on the back for your own efforts with her.  

“Are you okay?” She checks with you, as you try to steady your breathing. She places a kiss to your neck in such a way, that you know she’s leaving another mark that you’ll need to cover up, and you run your fingers down her sides.   

“Mhmm ..I think you’ve wiped me out.” You admit, lazily kissing along her shoulder.   

“I think you’ve done the same!” She tells you, chuckling, as she rubs her thumb over your neck, admiring the new bruise that she’s decorated you with.  

She watches over you for a moment, and you raise your fingers to your face.  

“Do I have something on me?” 

“No..” 

“Well ..now you’re staring.” 

“Mhmm.”  

“Are you okay?” 

“Do you want children?” She asks you, rather abruptly, and you have to chuckle at the timing of her question.  

“What?” 

“Children.” She repeats.  

“..I don’t know what the Spanish education system has taught you, Ale ..but what we just did to each other ..isn’t resulting in any babies.” 

“Idiota,” she chuckles, “but do you want them?” 

“I don’t want you to go out stealing any.” 

“Y/N!” She giggles, holding herself up over you. “I’m being serious.” 

She shakes her head at you, and you grin up at her. “I think I do, yeah. Eventually, with the right person.” 

A faint smile spreads over her face and she leans down for a kiss.  

“Do you?” You question, and she nods her head, before kissing you again.  

“Two.” She tells you. “One of each. A girl first.” 

“I’ve always thought I’d have a girl first.” You admit. “Though ..I figured I’d just have two girls ..a little boy would be cute.” 

“Mhmm!” She hums against you, linking her hands with yours as she pushes herself back up.  

“That's a very intense question,” you point out, “before we’ve even been on our first date. I should be running for the hills.” 

“Do you want to?” 

“No,” you admit, “but you’ve got me picturing a family with you, and we’ve only hung out three times!” 

“Is that what we’re doing?” She questions with a smile. “We’re hanging out?” 

“What would you call it?” You ask her, and her eyes glitter above you.  

“I don’t know,” she says, “but I don’t hang out with anyone else like this.” 

“That’s a relief!” You chuckle, and she bites her lip as she shakes her head again.

“I think I want to be doing more than just hanging out with you.” She tells you, and a small smirk pulls at your lips.  

“Well ..if our date goes well tomorrow, and we keep agreeing to meet up and go out with each other. Then ..we’d probably be dating.” 

“Would that scare you, dating a woman?” 

“Not when the woman’s you. I don’t think I’d ever shut up bragging about it.” 

“That’s a lot of pressure on you, then.” She points out with a smile. “To make sure our first date goes well.” 

“I know, and I don’t know Barcelona very well.” You remind her. “I wouldn’t know where I can take you, where you won’t get papped.” 

She nods in understanding and leans down for a kiss. “Then, will you go on a date with me?” She asks, with a very knowing smile. “I can arrange our Barcelona dates, if you sort the ones in London.” 

She holds out her pinky in front of you, for you to solidify your promise with her, and you place a kiss to your linked fingers, before losing yourself in her eyes again. “Deal.” You tell her softly, and a thrill flows right through your body as she collapses back down onto you.  

It stirs in your head, as you realise that this is what it should actually feel like to be with someone. An excitement inside of you when you know you’re about to see them. A constant wish to be near to them, a genuine enjoyment of their company. A want to share your life with them, to talk about a future together without a sense of fear, or dread about it.  

It’s what you could have gone on to miss out on, for your whole life, without her.  

There’s a comfort in you, when you’re with her, a lazy pleasure in having her body resting on top of yours. The way her fingers trace over your every curve, how her lips light tiny fires on your skin. Each caressing touch from her is one that you crave. Every kiss, the way she laughs. Her relentless teasing, her continual cockiness.  

It’s all something you want no other person to be lucky enough to experience the way that you’ve been able to. It’s all what combines together to make up Alexia. You want her, completely. Body and soul.

And it hits you, like a hammer to the chest. 

You’re already in love with this woman.  

“Are you okay?” She asks. “Your heart’s beating very quickly.” 

“Mhmm ..I’m fine.” 

She props herself up on her elbows over you and tilts her head with a raised eyebrow. 

“I’m a terrible liar?” You realise, and she softly nods her head. 

“You can talk to me.”  

“I know, I just ..I’m just going to miss you, after tomorrow.” 

“We can’t do that to ourselves.” She tells you quickly. “We still have the whole day to spend together.” 

“I know, I just—” 

She mutes you with a kiss and shakes her head. “No.” She says. “We’re not doing that. We can worry about it later. I’m taking you out tomorrow. You can’t go into our first date feeling miserable, the rest of our dates rest on the success of this one. You go into this date worrying about saying goodbye, we’ll never have any other da—” 

You cut her off this time.

It seemed like she was really about to start spiralling almost as pathetically as you have been doing all day. What a pair of losers you are together. Maybe you are perfect for each other. 

“Okay.” You tell her, nodding as you wipe a tear from the corner of her eye. “Okay, I’m sorry.” 

“We have one more day together,” she whispers, “we’re not wasting it being sad.” 

It’s an unfortunate curiosity, that sleep has been so hard for you to come by when you’ve been so desperate for it, and now, it’s threatening to steal you away when you fancy nothing more than staying awake forever. You don’t want to go to sleep, but a yawn that you’re not quite quick enough to stifle, lets Alexia know that you’re struggling a little to stay up with her.  

“Shit.” You mutter, throwing your arm over your face. “You caught that didn’t you?” 

“Mhmm. You can go to sleep.” She assures you, but you shake your head with a petulant pout.  

“I’m not tired.” You tell her, and she giggles, placing a kiss to your forehead before rolling off the side of you.  

“You really are a terrible liar.” She says, opening her arms to welcome you into her, and you don’t waste much time nestling yourself in her embrace.  

“I don’t want to sleep.” You admit to her chest, and she runs her fingers through your hair. “Not while I’m with you.” 

“I’ll still be here when you wake up.” 

“You’d better be.” You tell her. 

She throws her leg over your hip, drawing you in even closer to her, and you run your fingers up her thigh. 

“Are you quite comfy?”

“Mhmm! I’m not having you roll away from me again in the morning.” 

“I really wouldn’t want to.” You murmur, placing a kiss to her chest, as you snuggle closer against her.  

“Well, now you can’t!” She tells you. “I have very strong legs.” 

“I know, you do.” You chuckle sleepily. “I’ve had them clamped around my head a few times.” 

Another small yawn escapes you as you close your eyes, finally accepting defeat, and you place another lazy kiss to her chest as you begin drifting off.  

“Te quiero, Y/N.” Alexia whispers. “Dulces sueños.” 

“You sound really very lovely ..and I’m really bloody sorry ..but I don’t know what you’re saying to me.” You remind her, and you can feel her nodding her head gently. 

“Sweet dreams.” She translates, tightening her arms around you, as you struggle to stifle yet another little yawn.  

“Sweet dreams, Ale.” You manage to mumble in reply, before sleep fully consumes you, and you’re finally able to rest.

[shaunamilfman]

Being the Captain of the Rival Team HC's

pairing: Jackie Taylor x reader

Jackie hadn't really paid you much attention the first time she saw you. She knew of you, of course, having played your team before, but she'd never really seen you individually. That was, of course, till Shauna fouls you ten minutes into the game and she has to come talk to you. It's love at first sight for Jackie as you lie dazed on the ground with a bloody nose. 

Jackie trying to trash talk you, but being abysmally bad at it. She's not all that skilled at it to begin with, too nice at heart, but she's somehow impossibly worse. She leaves all of those confrontations wincing as she realizes she just showered you in compliments badly disguised as insults. Shauna's in hysterics about it, which certainly doesn't help her mood about it. Huffing all the way back. 

Nearly trips over the ball while warming up because she can't take her eyes off of you. Tai comes marching across the field to yell at her about it and Jackie's just scoffing and glancing around because she can't meet her eyes. 

When it comes to the actual game, trust that she will be playing at absolute peak performance. She's competitive enough as it is before you add in a newly realized desire to impress you. Glances over at you to see how you're reacting every time she makes an impressive play during the game. 

Jackie visibly deflates any time you're substituted out. It's hard to justify staring at you all game if you're not actually on the field, after all. 

Keeps trying to find excuses to linger by your locker room after the game so she can catch you after the game. She walked over with the intention to talk shit, but is too afraid of hurting your feelings after your team loses so badly that she ends up just flirting with you instead. 

Stalking your Instagram during halftime and accidentally likes a picture from two years ago. You just vaguely hear an embarrassed “OH MY GOD!” coming vaguely from the Yellowjacket’s locker room. 

Jackie studies your play style more intensely than anyone else's, telling herself it's just for strategy, but knowing deep down it's because it's you. 

Jackie nearly skipping out of the bus on game day because she knows she gets to see you. Talked Shauna's ear off the whole ride there about how annoying (hot), and irritating (distracting), you are. 

You run into each other at a mutual friends party (Jackie crashed it because she asked around till she found one you'd be at) and finally get to have a real conversation. 

Jackie keeps subtly trying to see what college you're going to because she keeps daydreaming about playing on the same team together. She's put some serious thought into how the two of you could complement each other's play styles, but she mostly just imagines kissing you after a win. 

Shows up at your home games to cheer you on when it doesn't conflict with the Yellowjacket’s own standing. All your teammates are like “isn't that…?” and you just shake your head and turn away. She shows up with a sign with your name on it next time so she can wave it around. World’s biggest fan for your mostly mediocre soccer team. 

Finally asking Jackie to hang out sometime and her ass shows up with a soccer ball. 

Off the field, she's a lot more playful and confident when she talks to you. There's something about the uniform that just makes her so nervous. Jackie keeps teasing you about whatever member of your team is the worst. She's laughing hysterically talking about how one of them had tripped over the bench and brought half your team to the ground. You finally get annoyed and walk off and she's just chasing behind you like “wait!”

Having to deal with Jackie's irrational jealousy when she so much as sees you breathing in the direction of the opposing team captain whenever you play. Huffing and puffing because you had to say “good game” to the pretty captain you've never met before. 

Winning a game against a different team with a patented Jackie Taylor play and she's losing her mind on the bleachers. By the time she finds you after the game, she's practically vibrating with excitement. 

Jackie smiles for almost the entirety of a game because she catches you cheering for her in the bleachers after she scores a goal. She insists that it makes her a better player. 

She makes such a big deal out of choosing between her team and you when really no one even gives her a hard time about it but Tai. The seasons already ended for your team and Jackie's just out here trying to live out her Romeo and Juliet fantasy. 

Jackie insists that you have to kiss her before states or else she's going to lose. It's a good luck charm and not at all an excuse to kiss you, obviously.