#no place in the world… no place in the body…
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lxnarphase · 3 days ago
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𓇼 FUCK HER, FLIP HER, BEND HER BACKWARDS !
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❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : the church always says sex for pleasure is a sin, and nanami kento is a man of the lord. but fuck, if his wife isn't worth sinning for. wc: 4.3k
❤₊‧⁺...cw : n. kento x fem!reader, religious themes, traditionalist views on sex and marriage, loss of virginity, missionary to mating press, breeding kink, overstimulation, unprotected sex, nanami loses himself in your pussy, slight cum play, dirty talk
❤₊‧⁺...lunar's note : am i unintentionally coping with religious trauma? possibly but it is fun :33 anyways based of this! forgive me if my writing is a bit rusty, it's been a while but enjoy !!
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the two of you have spoken about eventually having children many times, but knowing the steps it took...it kept you both pushing it back, knowing eventually you'd both be ready.
after speaking with doctors, asking for advice from the church, and having you grumble about the neighbors who welcomed a cute baby girl, the two of you figured it was time.
you did your best to act normal all dayl, trying not to seem to nervous or too excited as you went about your chores for the day.
it may just be an act to procreate, but...it's still your first time with nanami. you want it to at least feel special.
there was nothing in the bible that went against that, right?
well, you have plenty of time to overthink since it seems that your dear husband will be at work late. to pass the time, you wait upstairs in your shared bedroom, the TV on as a distraction.
you're so stuck in your own world that you don't even notice him in the doorway before he clears his throat, leaning in the doorway. "oh! hi, honey, welcome home!" you go to stand up, but he holds up a hand, making you stop before you can get up from the bed.
it's silent, aside from the noise from the TV, and you can feel your stomach flip in anticipation.
has...has he always looked that handsome?
he continues to stand by the door, still not making eye contact. "you said it...starts today, correct," nanami questions, focused on undoing the straps of his watch. it shouldn't be attractive, it's such a simple task...yet it has your stomach doing flips as you nod.
"mhm, my, uh...ovulation starts today." it's such a weird thing to say, it just makes everything feel so...clinical. but that's how it's supposed to be, right? those who use sex for pleasure instead of procreation are sinners, or whatever the reverend at the church says.
"mm."
slowly pulling it off, he sets the watch on the dresser before shutting the bedroom door
"good."
dear god in heaven, you think to yourself, struggling to swallow the saliva pooling inside your mouth as he starts to undress. please forgive me for such inappropriate thoughts about my husband.
he removes his suit jacket—black today, it seems—placing it carefully on his desk chair, followed by his cufflinks and tie. his shirt is next, each button popping to reveal his strong, well-maintained physique.
you have to stop yourself from pumping your fist in the air for getting so lucky with such an attractive man as your husband. too busy ogling him like a horny teenager, you miss him undoing his belt before tugging them down and stepping out of his boxers.
once you do realize he's fully undress, you blush hard once he approaches the end of the bed—it took everything out of you not to stare at that...monster hanging between his legs, dear lord—and climbs onto it, making his way to hover over you.
his eyes roam up and down your body, taking in the pretty silky night dress you had on. It’s a soft blue with lacy white trim with little intricate flower designs.
modest, yet sensual.
"this is new," he comments, voice low and sultry. you can't help but wonder if he meant to sound so...so...
you don't find the correct word for it, but this new tone lights a fire in your stomach that has your r thighs squeezing together just a little bit.
"well, i figured it was an important night...you know, finally popping our cherries a-and starting a family?"
it's a weak attempt at humor, your voice clearly giving away your nervousness. you just pray that he ignores it.
a soft hum leaves him, his fingers playing with the intricately designed lace trim. the idea that you want to make this whole ordeal special, that you want to give yourself to him wholly, and that you want to swell with his child...
it pleases him greatly, a small smile touching his lips.
"well, aren't you sweet, my dearest?"
such simple words, yet they relieve so much tension from your shoulders. you can't help but smile back before a little gasp falls from your lips when his hands start to lift the dress up. his hands, they're so big, so hot on your skin.
It's a struggle to remember that this is for the purpose of producing offspring and nothing else, but you try, you try so hard.
but when you hear the hitch in his breath at the realization you didn't have anything else underneath the dress after he pulls it over your head, it's hard to remember.
the thought just about completely leaves your mind at the way nanami, your usually put-together husband, looks so hungrily down at you, a look you've never seen before in those pretty hazel eyes.
his gaze lingers on your body for a moment, mouth opening before shutting instantly, preventing himself from saying something he'd likely regret.
calm down, kento, he reminds himself, taking a second to clear his mind. this is for the purpose of family, not sinful and carnal desires.
even so, he's drinking in the sight of you, unable to stop his hands from rubbing up and down your sides, the soft skin of you, his wife, warming his palms. all his.
"gorgeous," he mumbles, unaware he even said it.
the moment you feel his leaking cock brush against your leg, a thought occurs to you.
neither one of you has a single idea of how to do this.
sure, you both know enough about putting it inside and moving, but that was about it. is there something else you should do? things you should say, places you should touch to aid in the process?
they never explained the actual process of sex in church, and lord knows your mother and father would've keeled over and died instantly if you were to ask them.
'it comes naturally when god deems it your time' the reverend stated once during a sermon. you fight back a frown, realizing that man probably had even less of an idea of how to do it.
however, the feeling of his tip nudging against your slit rips a gasp out of you, bringing you back into the present.
"are you alright? you left me for a bit there," nanami asks, his brow furrowed in worry. if you weren't ready, he was willing to back off. he may want to fulfill this important aspect of marriage, but...not if you don't want it.
"n-no, i'm okay! just...wondering how all of this is going to work out," you softly reassure, giving a weak giggle.
he can't blame you, he isn't very sure either. but as the man of the house and as your husband, he didn't plan on letting you worry. he would do all the work, you just needed to lay there looking so pretty, so soft, so...he realizes he's doing it again, letting his mind wander to places it shouldn't.
"just...j-just relax, we will figure it out as we go along."
with your silent nod, nanami starts to push his hips forward, hissing silently when he realizes the wetness that greets him.
you were this aroused just from...talking?
the thought of scolding you for letting your mind wander crossed his own, but...it would be hypocritical when his cockhead is dribbling precum all over your soft mound.
you choke out a noise of pain when his cock finally notches onto you and starts to push inside. sure, your wetness helped get the tip and the few inches after it inside, but just that is already too much for you, and you're expected to take all of it?!
you do your best not to move, not really sure what you should be doing. you'd be a good wife and bear with the pain if you had to, your nails digging into the pillow under your head as you braced yourself for the rest of his cock.
but this is absolutely unbearable, how do other women bear with this and have 6 or more children?!
a flicker of concern flashes through nanami's eyes at the sound you made, and he stops moving forward. he may be a bit mean sometimes, but he wasn't cruel.
if you both are going to go through with this, he is not going to make you suffer and nor is he going to force you to endure a painful experience.
no true man of god would do such a thing.
"breathe, don't hold it in," he instructs, his voice somehow calm and collected. one of his hands laces with yours, hoping to provide some sort of comfort as his lips brush against your forehead. "i've got you, darling, the pain will pass, just...tell me to stop if it gets too bad. don't hold it in."
giving a soft nod, you try to match his breathing, your body relaxing and making it easier for nanami to slip the rest of himself inside, a near silent sigh escaping him. the tightness and initial resistance that greeted him nearly made him moan, his cock twitching violently inside of you.
something about the physical feeling and knowledge that you saved yourself for him like you promised years before you both got married sent a surge of possession and pride, knowing he has such a loving and faithful wife who is so willing to give herself up to him like this...he can only hope you feel the same knowing he saved himself for you and only you.
so, as a 'reward'—and totally not because he fears you'll strangle his cock off with how tight you are—he's so gracious to you, not moving to let you get used to the stretch and feel of him inside, the room silent except for your matching breathing.
a few moments go by, and you should feel embarrassed when you feel slick drip out of you and down your ass. the realization that your dearest husband, one of the most faithful men of the church, is letting his cock soak inside of your hot cunt makes you whine a little, slick walls fluttering around him.
he's so fucked.
"a-ah...i'm going to move now," he warns, taking your sudden noise as a good sign. nanami shifts his legs just a bit before giving an experimental thrust, his brow furrowing as he slowly finds a rhythm.
the feeling of your hot and gummy walls is absolutely intoxicating, divine, nothing he's ever felt before.
this is what it felt like?
this is what he waited for?
fuck, it felt...it felt so good.
too good.
for you, the pain completely melts away, and you silently thank god and the angels above for giving you a merciful husband who is so kind as to wait for you to loosen up around him.
little do you know, he would rather kill himself than start moving when you're still adjusting to the pain and stretch.
his gentle movements make you all but melt under him, your eyes fluttering at the unbelievable pleasure coursing through your veins.
no wonder your parents preached about saving yourself until marriage, and thank the heavens you listened.
the very thought of feeling this way with anyone but your kento puts a bad taste in your mouth.
meanwhile, nanami chants prayers in his head over and over again as he tries his best to focus on the 'true' purpose for this.
the sticky, wet, and gooey sensation of your plump cunt sucking him, practically weeping each time he pulls out is just unfair.
the poor man, he's fighting so hard to maintain his composure, to not succumb to the base instincts that those soft moans of yours are beginning to stir within him.
"s-shush, darling," he grits out, hips still following his slow, deep pace. "don't...don't make such noises," he all but pleads, voice tinged with a huskiness that betrayed his growing need for you.
“i-i’m sorry! just, it...feels good, y-you feel good, feels s-so good,” you whisper, hands coming up to cover your mouth and stifle those sickeningly sweet noises.
but of course, that isn’t enough because each push and pull of his cock stirs your drooling cunt, filling the room with wet, filthy squelching sounds.
nothing about this is holy, nanami thinks as he grits his teeth, hands fisting in the sheets next to your head.
look at her.
those soft, muffled noises are truly music to his ears, his pace morphing from the slow, deep grind into a faster pace as your soft body gives into the pleasure.
so wet, so damn tight around my cock., like she never wants to let me pull out.
"k-kento, y-you're goin' too deep, i-i can't be quiet, s'too much!"
messy little pussy, 's beggin' for cum, needs it, needs to feel my tip kissin' her cervix as i pump load after load into her womb.
he knows what that little voice is, and no matter how much he wants to claim that it’s the sound of demons pouring their sinful words into his mind, he knows that it's his thoughts, fueled by those dirty little noises that she can't hold back.
how pitiful, how sinful, doesn't she know she's going against all the teachings they've heard preached every weekend in their church?
doesn't she know she's giving into lust?
doesn't she know her pretty sounds are making his dick throb, painting her insides with his hot, gooey precum?
"hush, 'm not going to t-tell you again, you...you need to be quiet," he growls, the command lacking its earlier authority.
nanami also knows lying is a sin, and he's doing a damned lot of it right now as he tries to convince himself that you need to stay silent. after all, this—this is just a process of giving you both a child, just like you wanted, and nothing else.
but he's lying to himself.
he needs you to be quiet or else he'll lose it.
the poor man is barely holding onto his restraint, and these sweet noises pouring from your mouth aren't helping at all.
"y-you make this so difficult sometimes, my dear..." his voice is rough with need and desire, a stark contrast to his usual composed demeanor. "but, by god, you're...you're. absolutely. exquisite."
he punctuates his words with a particularly hard thrust, grinding his hips into you in a way that has the coarse hair on his crotch to rub against your clit. the pleasure it gives you is electric, your legs coming up to squeeze his hips as you try to grind with him.
his words, his simple praise only makes you hiccup his name, crying out louder as your watery eyes roll back as your needy cunt squeezed down on his fat cock.
you're such a sweet thing, trying oh-so hard to mute your sounds. each snap of his hips is all but driving you insane.
“i-i can’t, ken, y-you don’t understand, i-it feels so good, i-i’m so full! you’re pressing against all the good spots, kentoo, i-i love you s' much, b-but i can't!”
be a good fucking husband and do what you were made to, nanami kento.
his teeth dig into his bottom lip, trying to hard to ignore that temptation purring in the back of his mind.
the voice is so much louder now, echoing throughout his mind and muting any prayers or pleads to be mindful of the sanctity of this whole process.
fuck her. give her what she needs, what she deserves.
but it's too fucking hard, he can't his hips are speeding up, his strong hands moving to grip your thighs, unaware of how they start to anchor behind your knees.
breed your pretty little wife and give her a baby like she deserves.
with a deep groan, nanami finally loses all control, fingers digging into your supple thighs to push them to your chest and practically folding you in half.
this new angle has him openly moaning like a dirty whore, allowing him to plunge even deeper into your tight, gummy walls, the head of his cock kissing your cervix with each and every deep thrust.
"k-ken, kenny, k-ken," you sob, tears catching onto your lashes as your entire being is assaulted by the endless pleasure your husband is giving you. he doesn't even look like your kento anymore, his pupils blown so wide that you can barely see the ring of greens and brown of his iris.
"f-fuck. 's all your fault, you know that," he hisses, eyes narrowing as he weakly glares down at you. but you can see the hearts in his eyes as he gives in to the pleasure.
his dark eyes bore down into yours, the wet plap plap plap plap of his hips slamming into yours almost overpowering his voice. "if y-you just stayed quiet like i asked, w-we wouldn't be here."
a little spurt of wet gushes out of you, making his fall forward into the juncture of your neck with a groan at the dirty noise it makes,
"god, i-i can feel it, y'know? can feel this sticky pussy—such a dirty little pussy—makin' such a mess. saved it jus' for me, didn't you, baby? mmhm—fuckin' hell, 's tight—thank you god f' giving me such an angel of a wife." nanami is huffing nonsense against your neck, pounding into you with a force that has the bed creaking loudly.
if you weren't being fucked stupid, you would be worried he was about to break the bed.
"you can keep that pretty mouth of yours shut, b-but you jus' had to have the noisiest little cunt."
he's so mean, but it only serves to make you gush even more, the way juices pour out of you and only make the already filthy noises even nastier.
"she's talkin' to me, baby, y'hear it? i'm...i-i'm gonna breed you," he manages to whine into your ear, pulling away to press his sweaty forehead against yours.
his tongue, so pink and pretty—you want it in your mouth, want to taste it want to feel it against yours—runs over his top lip as he watches drool drip down the corner of your mouth while you nod brainlessly.
nanami's never felt so dirty, so unhinged, but it feels so right, feels so fucking good. he never wants to leave your pussy, never wants to pull out, this is where he belongs, buried deep inside you as his cock pumps load after load right into your tummy, giving you what you need, what you deserve.
"yeah? you want that? i'll give it to you, baby, promise, 'm gonna be a good husband a-and knock you up, gonna make you a mommy."
that has you keening, tears pouring down your cheeks at the pleasure it shoots up your spine. you know you're close, but it's different.
it feels different, feels too much, there's pressure you've never felt before from the few times you'd cave in and play with your puffy, swollen clit in the shower when you waited for nanami to get home from work to kiss you to sleep.
no, you feel like you are about to fucking explode. "ken, i-i can't, 'm gonna—s-something's coming," you try to warn, your hands fisting in his hair as you tug and tug and tug.
the pull of his hair makes him moan like a slut, it sounds so fucking good. his eyes are rolling back before he rushes to comfort you, pressing soft little open-mouthed kisses against your lips.
you don't need to fight it, you just need to give it to him, give him what he needs.
"shh, shh, don' cry, y' look t'pretty, honey. l-let it happen, cum for me, i've got you, angel, cum for me s-so i can fill you up," he coos, his hips growing erratic as he feels your silky walls starting to fluttering around him, feeling you teeter on the edge of release.
he shifts, just barely, just enough to better position himself to fuck deeper into you. but that slight movement has his cock smushing against something soft and spongy that makes you sob, growing softer and more pliant under him, and you know you are done for as all you can do is wail his name.
"please, pretty girl, cum for me, show me how good 'm making you feel, soak my cock, c'mon, you can do it."
with a loud mewl that nearly has nanami soaking your walls in cum, you dig your nails into his biceps as you finally, finally cum. and you're right, it is different, your cute pussy squirting and creaming all over his dick.
the poor man is choking back a whine, eyes wide in shock as your cunt just gushes slick everywhere, clenching around him like a vice as you cum.
your juices are soaking his cock and balls, splattering against his lower abdomen obscenely. the thought of making you do that again crosses his mind for a split moment before the need to fill you up for being so good overpowers any other thought.
not giving you a break, he continues his unforgiving fucking, ignoring your cries and pleads for him to slow down.
"nonono, shh, shh, shush, you can take it," he coos against your lips, no longer caring if this was sinning or not. all he could think about was the constant squeezing and spasming of your poor overstimulated slit that was milking him toward his orgasm.
you try to squirm away, but the way he has you folded in half has you unable to do anything but accept his stupidly deep thrusts that make you swear you can taste his cock in the back of your throat.
"t-tha's it." he's panting, slurring his words, his fingers digging into the fat of your thighs. it’s so wet, so messy now, but he can't find it in himself to care.
no, all he can think about as he looks down at you is how you'll have that angelic glow as you grow round with his baby, and everyone will know you're his, that he knocked you up, he pumped you full of his cum, that you're his you're his you're all fucking his—
"f-fuck, honey, i-i can't..." his hips stutter as he does his best to maintain his rhythm, but his own release is barreling down on him. his heavy balls are drawing up tight as they slap against your ass, your juices still pouring out and soaking all of him.
"'m gonna fill you up, 'm gonna pump this—this sinful little cunt f-full of m'cum, angel, gonna knock you up, gonna have you drippin' with me, g-gonna give you a fuckin' baby, shit—"
with a deep, guttural groan, nanami hisses your name as he buries himself as deep as possible, his hot tip kissing your cervix as thick, hot ropes of his potent cum pour right into your womb, hips grinding into you and giving little thrusts as you milk his cock weakly despite your overstimulation.
it's—it's so much, he's still cumming, how was all of this inside of him? you can practically feel it sloshing around inside of you, and you whimper when you feel it gush out around his now softening cock, dripping down your ass onto the bed.
a moment or two passes, and he sits up, pushing his sweaty hair out of his face and looking down at you.
oh.
you sweet thing, you're an absolute mess. you have tear streaks down your cheeks, your lips swollen from him unknowingly biting them between the little kisses he was giving you, a pretty sheen of sweat on you, and...
his eyes trail lower to where his dick is still nestled inside of you, and it takes everything in him to not accidentally thrust his hips a little bit.
it's a creamy, sticky mess, a mixture of his and your cum seeping out your poor, abused pussy.
"o-oh. sorry, my love. i'm...not quiet sure what happened there. i apologize for such...foul language," he mumurs, his hand stroking your hip. "'s okay," you softly coo back to him, your eyes fluttering shut as you try to catch your breath. "i-i liked it..."
but you quickly learn you've married both a man of god and a curious, insatiable bastard who can't help but drag his cum all over your pussy, quickly finding your clit. and the reaction you give him is one he decides he likes, your hips canting up as your soft, oversensitive walls squeeze around his cock again.
"k-kento, that's nasty!"
all you get in response is a grumbling noise in his chest as it takes you weakly slapping your hands against his chest to get his eyes to snap away from your gooey, creamy pussy.
clearing his throat, he looks down at you, that heated look slowly creeping back onto his face. "perhaps we...we should try once more. just to ensure it takes," he states, doing his best to show some semblance of dominance.
but it's impossible when his hair is sticking to his sweaty forehead, his pupils blown as he gazes down at your panting form like he's about to devour you whole.
"after all, a...a big family is what god wants from man and woman, right? so we...shouldn't delay and keep trying." his hand trails up your side before finding its way to your breast, squeezing the soft flesh.
his thumb experimentally rolled your nipple, and the way your body reacted, a soft gasp of his name...how is he supposed to explain the feeling he's getting in the confessional booth?
"y-yeah," he gulps, leaning his head down. you can feel his hot breath against your tit, and you swear you feel drool drip onto your breast. "w-we'll keep trying. jus' to make sure w-we do what the scripture asks."
may god forgive him for being such a fucking liar and a damned bad one at that.
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rcmclachlan · 3 days ago
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8x06 fix-it fic: Amnion
Buck doesn't bounce back from Tommy the way he did with all his other breakups for reasons he can't articulate or even look at. He thinks of how long it took him to recover from Abby, but even that felt different, because he'd had hope carrying him through most of it. He doesn't have that now.
The worst part is it's bringing everyone else down. It's starting to affect the job, and he can't take any more of Bobby's pity dinner invites or the kid gloves Eddie handles him with. Then one day, Chimney (in an attempt to lighten the mood) asks Buck if he's pregnant, and it awakens some primordial rage in Buck that he never knew he possessed and damn near rips off Chimney's head about it.
But once the blood levels in his adrenaline start rising and he calms down, he starts thinking about it. Before he knows it he's thinking about it day and night, and now that's starting to affect the job more than his heartbreak had been.
Then one night Maddie invites him over to watch trash TV and eat junk food until they can't feel feelings anymore, but instead of the patented Maddie Hug he's expecting, she hands him a First Response test stick the second he walks in the door.
Five minutes later, he comes out of the bathroom pale-faced and dripping tears because there are two lines in the test result window, and Maddie leads him over to the couch where they curl up and cry together. Just like the old days.
Maddie asks if he's going to tell Tommy, but there's no judgment in her voice, like she's behind him no matter what he decides, and Buck tries to make her laugh when he says, "How do you know it's his? I could've been living it up for the last month. New person almost every night. Exploring myself."
She just gives him a Look. Also patented.
Under the weight of her scrutiny, Buck thinks about Tommy's face before he left the loft that night and how ''Buck'' looked and sounded so wrong coming from him. Like the shape of it was so painful he could barely move his mouth around it.
Finally, he shakes his head. His eyes well up with more tears, which feels impossible, because the human body can't possibly produce this much liquid. He's going to drown them both. "I thought... I thought we had a future, Maddie. I really did. I guess I still get one... but only with part of him."
A couple of months pass and Buck's entire world shifts. The 118 have rallied around him in a way that almost feels like they're closing ranks to every other firehouse. Eddie becomes especially protective and devises a 5000-point care plan that makes him twitch if Buck so much as thinks about deviating from it, but he also keeps telling Buck that he needs to tell Tommy about the pregnancy.
"If only to get his family history," Eddie says reasonably, but there's something pleading in his voice every time, like there's so much more under the surface that he's trying to keep under wraps. Like there's more about this that he thinks Tommy should know.
Chimney's in the middle of explaining why he's stealing the cool uncle crown from Buck and sitting pretty on the throne when Buck asks him about it.
"Is there something about Tommy that no one's telling me?"
It trips Chimney up. Literally. He just barely catches himself from going headfirst into the kitchen counter.
Buck's heart starts pounding. "Chim, does he know?"
"No," Chimney says, firm and almost a little offended. "We promised you we wouldn't say anything. But Buck... you should tell him. You should talk to him."
Part of him wants to whip his phone out right then and there and dial Tommy's number. He could do what he did the first time: ask to meet somewhere and laugh about bad coffee and plead his case for a second chance. He could reach across the table for his hand, but this time, he'd stand up and walk over to Tommy and place it on his belly. "I don't care about firsts or lasts," he'd say. "I care about only's. And you're the only one I want."
But the other part of him, still licking its wounds, hormones in flux and forcing organs to shift and bend as it makes room for the thing he and Tommy made together, bares its teeth and snaps, "He made it very clear that he had no interest in hearing what I had to say."
Chimney never brings it up again.
Meanwhile, Hen goes a little overboard with forcing him to undergo random physicals—she pops out of the shadows twice a day to ambush him with the blood pressure machine, and he keeps threatening to avoid rooms that have doors—but he loves it. His body is a complete stranger to him for the first time in a long time, but the changes he's experiencing are interesting and he's having a blast cataloging every new one. He and Hen have a spreadsheet with like fifty tabs, and she helps him navigate every test his actual OBGYN sets him up for.
He's over her house at least once a week, although pregnancy talk at the dinner table is verboten.
"If one of you says the word 'amniocentesis' one more time, I will start a food fight," Karen had said, finally putting her foot down. Across the table, Denny perked up.
As much as he hesitates to even think the Q-word, it's a pretty quiet pregnancy. The cravings are kind of wild, though, and he goes most of his first trimester feeling like he's going to die if he can't eat rice krispie treats with cottage cheese. Every time Bobby sees him cracking open another container of Hood, it looks like he's seriously reconsidering sobriety.
But as incredible as they are about the pregnancy, they're all tiptoeing around the other elephant in the room: when Buck is going to stop working scenes. He and Bobby have a series of discussions that satisfies neither of them and resolves nothing, and it builds to a big blow-out that ends when Bobby tearfully begs Buck to stop risking his own life and the life of Bobby's grandkid.
After that, it's like some stone thing in him dissolves into sand and he finally eases back a bit in his fifth month. He doesn't put up a fight when Bobby orders him to only handle the winch or stick with hose duty, and if he stays a little closer to the engine because he gets winded so easily these days, no one comments on it.
In his sixth month, the inevitable happens: there's a call out at Palos Verdes and it's all hands on deck, which means the 217 is there too. At first he thinks he might make it through without running into Tommy at all, but he turns a corner and—there he is. Smudged with mud and looking like a drowned rat because of the downpours, but in his turnouts he's big and capable and, for a second, he's walking into First Presbyterian and apologizing for missing the ceremony.
But the memory is easily wrestled back into the past the second Tommy's gaze fixes on Buck's belly.
Buck wants to stage a retreat that would make the Allies at Dunkirk stand up and applaud. He wants to throw his arms open so Tommy can get a better look at it, say something cool and mean, like, "Did you know that INNOTEX makes turnouts for carriers these days? Pretty progressive of them, if you ask me."
He wants to be weak and ask if Tommy will spare him a hug. Just one. Nothing greedy. Just—a moment to soak in his warmth, to inhale the smell of his skin. Enough to carry him through the rest of it.
But he does none of that. He inhales through his nose, lifts his chin, and says, "Firefighter Kinard."
At that, Tommy smiles, and it's completely awful. There's no joy in it. Not even amusement. He looks like he wants to be sick, and Buck feels like a monster.
But Tommy swallows and says, earnest as anything, "Congratulations. I-I knew you'd find it. I never doubted for a second that you'd find the person who'd be your last."
Even as he says it, Tommy's face does something indescribable, but it rips through Buck's chest and shatters his ribs, tearing through pericardial layers until it scores the vulnerable muscle of his heart. It's so shocking that it almost knocks the truth right out of Buck's mouth.
Someone comes over the radio and requests all available first responders with flight experience to report to the B-zone, and Tommy straightens up and locks whatever it was away.
With an unsteady hand, he tips an invisible hat to Buck and says wryly, "Firefighter Buckley," before jogging away.
And Buck stands there like an idiot watching him go. It's that night all over again. It's Buck instead of Evan.
"See you around," he whispers, and then runs back to his post in the A-zone.
+
Tommy gets the call when he's halfway through a burrito foisted upon him by Dana, who had taken one look at him and said, "You look like a flood victim. Eat something before I get HR involved."
He'd taken a mutinous bite and couldn't argue with her. Months later and it still felt like he'd watched everything he loved wash away with a tide he couldn't fight. Except he'd sent the tide himself. He had no business feeling like this.
But they send him to the site of a car accident where a pregnant driver had been T-boned by some asshole who ran the red light, and the RA unit called to the scene didn't have the right equipment to assess the fetus. But the victim's belly was hard enough to warrant a med evac.
By the time Dana gets the victim loaded on the backboard and inside, Tommy's already on with both First Presbyterian and LA General to see whose neonatal surgery team is available.
The door on Tommy's side slides open and Tommy turns in his seat to ask what the hell Dana's doing over there, but it's Hen who's pulling herself inside.
His stomach clenches with dread. "Hen?"
"I'm riding with you," she shouts, taking the headset that Dana gives her.
He looks just beyond her and wishes he'd had the presence of mind to listen to the manifest when Dana had read it aloud to him, because Evan Buckley is strapped to the gurney and looks like he's on a completely different planet.
"Hen." Tommy can't hear him say her name, but he sees Evan's mouth shape the word. Evan reaches clumsily out for her with one hand while pressing the other to his belly.
Hen murmurs something to him that the comms can't pick up, and Tommy wonders if they've notified Maddie, if they've notified the father, whoever they are. If they're already at the hospital waiting for them. If Tommy will have to see them, talk to them face to face.
Tommy bites the inside of his cheek until he feels the hot wash of blood over his tongue, then forces everything down to join the burrito from earlier that really wants to make a reappearance. It isn't his right to know any of it. That went out with the tide, too.
He locks it down tight enough that he gets them into the air so easily they might be a feather on the wind, then he heads in the direction of First Presbyterian. The real start of it all.
They're maybe halfway across the city when Evan shouts, desperation and fear carrying his voice over the rotors, the words sliding together, "Hen, check Nora! Y-Y'need to ch—"
"Nora's fine, Buck," Hen says, her voice clear as a bell in Tommy's ear.
Staring at a skyline he can't see, Tommy says, "'Nora'? Was someone else in the car with him?"
When Hen comes over the comm, her voice is as inescapable as a flood. "Nora's what he decided on for the baby. It's her name."
Tommy's hand tightens on the cyclic so the way it starts shaking won't be so obvious. "Nora was my grandmother's name."
He'd told Buck about the woman who was basically the only family he could stand, who was responsible for not letting him become his piece of shit father, who accepted him when no one else would. She'd meant the world to him. She'd been the world to him. And for Evan to give his kid her name—
Realization hits like a levy breaking, and he turns to look wide-eyed over his shoulder at Hen, because it can't—he couldn't be—
"Patient, male, 33, prenatal course complicated at 8 months gestation," Dispatch had said.
The timeline is right.
Hen stares right back, as good of a confirmation that he could get outside of a DNA test.
Without breaking her gaze, Tommy tells Dana to take over. She gives him an unreadable look but says nothing except, "Copy that," and smoothly resumes their journey while he squeezes into the back. There's hardly any room next to the gurney and his knees are compressing his lungs, but he takes Evan's' hand and stares blankly at the shiner forming around his right eye until Hen breaks the silence.
Why didn't you tell me, he wants to demand, but he knows that if he so much as opens his mouth, he's going to start screaming until someone sedates him.
"For the record," she says, "I hate what you did. I hate what you took from him. But I understand why you did it."
Tommy rolls his lips inward and wants to suffocate himself to death. She understands? Does she? Does she know a life can be obliterated in the span of a minute? Does she know what it is to live a half life, to walk through the world like a five-year old drew a scribble on a blank sheet of paper that was supposed to be a person?
Does she know what Evan looks like when his joy is sucked away? Because Tommy does. She hates what he did? No one hates what he did more than him. No one hates him more than him.
Shakily, he lifts his other hand and touches the tips of his fingers to Evan's birthmark, which used to know the touch of his lips so well that Evan would joke that it was actually in the shape of Tommy's mouth print. Like a brand.
He forces himself to inhale. It seems impossible that Evan's here, carrying their child, their Nora. Evan used to say the lightning strike gave him super powers, made him invincible, and Tommy's ashamed to admit that he almost believed him. It seemed like nothing could ever bring Evan Buckley down, but here he is in Tommy's sky, halfway to Heaven already.
He glances at the LifePAK—where Evan's life has been concentrated into a series of lines and numbers, the reading strong despite everything—and then looks back at Evan, who is still the most beautiful man Tommy has ever seen even now.
"Evan," he chokes out.
There's no answer. At least not from Evan.
Across from him, Hen breathes through her nose and then quietly says, "I'm only going to say this once, Tommy, so I hope you're listening. If you can't trust him to know what his own heart wants, then this flight will never have happened. When he wakes up, you will not have been here. I'll change the manifest myself."
Tommy closes his eyes. Something hot spills down his cheeks.
"I know things haven't been all sunshine and roses for you. Lucy's said you've basically shut down since it ended. I know you're hurting just as much as Buck is... which is why I'm telling you: be sure. He's going to have enough on his plate without worrying about whether or not you're going to swan out of his life again. You need to be sure, Tommy."
Tommy doesn't say anything, but he opens his eyes and holds her gaze without flinching, and he tightens his hold on Evan's hand.
The rest of the flight passes in the kind of silence that feels like a cyst was lanced. Or maybe a boil, as it were.
+
Buck wakes up in stages to find he's in a hospital bed, and when he puts a hand on his belly it's smaller and almost deflated beneath his palm. He is just starting to hyperventilate when suddenly Tommy's there, murmuring to him, "You're okay. Everything's okay, I promise, she's fine. She's fine. Look."
And Buck, heart racing, forces himself to breathe slowly while he follows Tommy's gaze down to the bundle in Tommy's arms. Then he stops breathing altogether.
"She's fine," Tommy says. "A little early, according to the doctor, but absolutely fine."
Buck collapses back to the bed and weeps in relief, because she's fine. She's here and she's fine and she's perfect. Tommy gently places her in Buck's arms before retreating to the chair next to the bed which has a dent in the vinyl in the shape of his ass.
But Buck is enraptured with Nora, who smacks her lips in her sleep, and he marvels aloud, "She has my mouth."
"Thank God for that," Tommy says with a laugh. "It'll help take the focus off my nose. Poor kid."
It hits Buck like lightning that Tommy is here. He's in this room and talking about Nora like—like he knows. And there are things Buck should probably be saying, like apologizing for not telling Tommy about her as soon as he found out, or asking why he's there at all, but the words are crowding in his mouth and he can't figure out which ones should go first.
Tommy's lips twitch in a smile that is awful to look at, like he completely understand Buck's struggle, but his voice is soft and even when he says, "I need you to know that it wasn't about you. Not you personally. It never was."
Buck stops trying to speak and just stares at him, because that is bullshit, and oh, he knows which words should come first, and he opens his mouth to release them into the wild but Tommy holds up a hand.
"I know," he says. "I was a coward and an asshole, and I'm more sorry than I can possibly say. I won't ever be able to make up for what I did. But I need you to know why I did it."
And, in fits and starts before he finally finds the thread, Tommy tells him about Jeremy.
After Tommy ended things with Abby and then finally came out, he dated around for a long time before he met Jeremy, who was brilliant and fun and new. Tommy was the first man Jeremy had ever been with, and Jeremy was the first person Tommy saw a future with. He'd been so sure about Jeremy. He'd believed that Jeremy was it.
Until, almost two years in, Jeremy ended it. He'd sat Tommy down and said kindly, cruelly, "You're amazing, Tom, but you're just the first. You can't be my last." And then he'd left Tommy completely shattered in the rearview.
"That night, when you asked me to move in... it was like I was watching him put on his coat all over again," Tommy says shakily. "But what I felt for you was lightyears beyond anything I felt for him. I'd fallen so hard for you that I knew if I had to watch you walk away I'd never get up again."
Buck stares at Tommy, eyes rimmed red, and says, "So instead you made me watch you walk away."
It must land like a fist because Tommy exhales sharply and hangs his head, bowing around the pain. He sits like that for a moment, absorbing it, before he lifts his head and nods. "Yeah. That's exactly what I did."
There are deep, dark circles under Tommy's eyes that speak of a hundred sleepless nights, and his body is sharper, leaner, trimmed entirely of anything soft. He's made entirely of angles. He's so unfairly hot. He's miserable to look at.
Buck swallows and murmurs, "You look like there's no love in your life, Tommy."
Sucking in a trembling breath, Tommy smiles weakly and sketches a shrug. It looks like the fatigued steel of his edges are starting to crack.
"I left all my love with you that night." His gaze darts down. "Among other things."
Buck looks down at Nora, who's sleeping the sleep of someone already exhausted by existence, or maybe just by her fathers' drama, and thinks that maybe he really has been carrying all his love plus Tommy's around. Because otherwise he has no idea how he's so full of it.
"She's absolutely perfect," Buck says, smiling dopily.
"She's... more than anything I could've ever dreamed of."
He looks up in time to see Tommy drop his gaze to the floor at the same time his shoulders lift and lock like they're bracing for a blow. And in a voice so thin it's barely a sound, Tommy says, "I know I don't have... any right to ask, but is there any... any chance I could be part of her life?"
The tears that have been languishing at the edges of Buck's eyes finally see an opportunity. He doesn't think he could've held them back any longer if he tried.
Mouth trembling, he whispers, "Just hers?"
At that, Tommy looks up, eyes wide, disbelief and hope chasing each other across his face like dogs. He jerks a little in his chair but he doesn't move. He doesn't move.
Buck stares at him, a tsunami pulling everything back from his shoreline, and bites out, "Thomas James Kinard, if you don't get over here and kiss me, I swear to Christ—"
But Tommy's out of the chair and at his bedside, cupping Buck's face and tenderly smearing a kiss over his open mouth, licking the relieved gasp right off Buck's tongue.
Between them, Nora makes a tiny noise, and Tommy startles away just enough that he can press the side of his head to Buck's and gaze down at her with a tremulous smile.
"She really is something, huh? Sorry about the nose, kiddo," he says softly.
Buck knocks their heads together and says, "I happen to love that nose, thanks. And like you said, my lips will help balance it out."
Huffing a laugh, Tommy kisses Buck's lips. And the side of his nose and the bolt of his jaw. Then he leans down and presses a kiss to Nora's little pink and blue hat.
"I'm sure if you are," Tommy murmurs, tilting his chin up so he can flash a brave smile up at Buck, who smiles back.
"I was always sure."
626 notes · View notes
ceilidho · 1 day ago
Text
take me home, country road
[ao3]
You have nothing on your person apart from a hastily packed suitcase and the dress you came into town wearing, on the run from trouble back home. Too bad John's missing a bride that matches your description. Or: the 1800s (mistaken) mail order bride au (chapter 19)
masterlist
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A blood-orange sun hangs low in the sky.
You might think it ominous on any other day, but not this one. What more adversity could stand in your way? 
Instead of sharing a saddle with John, you ride the same horse that Graves rode out of town. Days spent on horseback have finally caught up to you, pain radiating up and down your legs, a soreness embedded deep in your inner thighs, the skin positively chafed from the constant friction. At least you no longer have the handcuffs digging painfully into your wrists, the metal cuffs long since unlocked using the key in Graves’ pocket and discarded, now lost some acres back for the coyotes and the hares to prod at and sniff. 
You drift in and out of conscious awareness, coming back into your right mind every mile or so, losing track of time along the way. Sometimes you blink and trees disappear out of sight, already ten miles back. Scouring the landscape for something familiar only to come up empty. 
Recent events lour over your conscience. It’s difficult not to let it get to you. So much has happened in such quick succession that part of you still thinks you’re dreaming in the abandoned shack with Graves sleeping just a few feet away. 
A distinct sound scrapes against the inner recesses of your mind and eardrum. If you were to look behind you, you’d find the source of it wrapped in a shroud and dragged behind John’s horse. Drying blood stains the fabric. The head, obscured under the fabric, jostles from side to side as it passes over rocks and undergrowth. 
It’s beyond you now though, the future shuttling forward at an unfathomable speed and taking you with it, willing or not. The world hurrying on to repeat its past mistakes. 
So you don’t look behind you. 
“Won’t be much longer,” your husband murmurs from beside you, speaking just loud enough for you to hear him over the influx of thoughts in your head, which rapidly empty out at the sound of his voice. 
“We can stop for a break after?” you ask, turning your head enough for your eyes to land on the hard, bristled line of his jaw. He nods. 
“Just gotta get this part out of the way.”
He says it so casually, like a bit of unpleasantness that has to be dealt with; no way around it. Unfortunately, a body isn’t something that can be just swept under the rug. No matter how much your muscles beg for a moment’s reprieve, you won’t get it until all the loose ends are tied up. 
“How do you know the land around here so well?” you ask as John leads the two of you deeper into the plains.
“The boys and I have been out here before. Grew up in this county anyway; been wanderin’ these parts since I was born.”
You can’t imagine John as a young boy, uncertain of his place in the world. He seems like someone who emerged from the womb ready-made, already able to skin a deer and build a bushcraft shelter by hand. But he must have been young at one point. 
Finally, he comes upon a suitable place to bury the body. 
Deep in the wilderness, he digs a shallow grave with the short shovel strapped to his horse, sweating up a storm before the hole is big enough to bury the body. You dismount your horse and wander off while John handles the burial. 
This is the part where you have to turn away and pretend it isn’t happening. You stave off the urge to plug your ears and close your eyes. Dogear any page in your life except this one. This is the only memory that you want to fade into obscurity, pretend that it never happened, that this was some bad dream that you only half-remember twenty years from now. 
You glance back only once to find John breathing heavily at the edge of the hole, having just hauled himself out. Sweat slicks his brow and drips down the side of his face near his temple, a dark flush spreading over his cheeks from exertion. Even his shirt is damp with sweat under the pits and around the collar. 
You force yourself to look away. Now is not the time for your libido to trouble you. 
Graves’ body lands with a dull thump when John rolls it into the makeshift grave. You bite your lip and let your eyelids slide shut. Then he starts the process of covering the body, shoveling the dirt back into the hole. It takes a while. An offer to help hovers on the tip of your tongue, but you can’t quite make yourself say the words. 
A half hour later, it no longer matters, the hole covered until the only thing demarcating the grave is the layer of upturned soil, slightly darker than the dirt in the surrounding area.
“That’s it,” John announces, making his way back to you with the shovel slung over his shoulder. You can smell the ripe scent of sweat wafting off him even from a foot away. “Let’s head out; we’ll wanna make camp before it gets dark.”
You don’t answer. Not verbally anyway. The guilt almost makes it hard to breathe. In all your stupidity and poor decision-making, you’ve inadvertently made John an accomplice in your crimes; forced him, in fact, to commit one as heinous as the one that had started this whole debacle. 
You travel the next mile in relative silence, scouring the landscape for a neat patch of land to set up camp. The sun plummets towards the ground at a faster and faster pace until it’s tugged below the horizon, vanishing with a green flash. Then it’s too dangerous to keep going, the way back far too dark to keep traveling down. 
John builds a small fire after tying up the horses for the night. The temperature drops exponentially as the sky darkens, the cold sinking low to the ground. You help with gathering the kindling, mostly twigs and clumps of dry grass, then take the packs off both horses to use as makeshift seats by the fire, unrolling the sleeping bags as well. 
It comes as a relief to finally sit down after the fire is struck. Rest is a double edged sword though; the longer you sit with Graves’ old pack propping you up, the more the pain has time to sink its claws in deep. 
In the hours since he shot Graves, neither of you have spoken more than a few words to each other. You certainly haven’t brought it up. The memory of Graves revealing the truth of what you’d done back east to John looms over you. It’s inevitable that you’ll talk about it eventually though. It’s heavy in the atmosphere, almost oppressive; the weight of everything said and unsaid. You can’t take back what Graves revealed to John. At some point you’ll have to face it. 
At what point will you have to beg for forgiveness? It sits on the tip of your tongue. 
The small fire crackles in front of you. Red tongues of flames lick at the darkness, the light extending out in a circle around the two of you. You’re grateful for the warmth though, particularly after spending the previous night in the cold.  
“Nothing to eat, m’afraid,” he says apologetically, brow creasing. “I didn’t exactly pack before coming after you.”
You shake your head. “That’s fine. I’m not hungry anyway.”
In a few more hours, you might work up an appetite again, but for now, you couldn’t be further from it. All you want to do is lie down on your bed back home and sleep through to the next day. 
“Yeah,” John sighs. “Me neither.”
He picks up your hand and holds it in his for a time. It’s strange how such a small gesture has become such an immense comfort for you. You wish you could thread your fingers through his and bring his hand up to your lips to kiss all over, but you’re too tired for a gesture of that magnitude. 
When he lets go of your hand, it’s only to transfer it to your face. His thumb runs over your split lip, pulling away when you wince. “Looks like it’s healing on its own.”
“That’s good,” you mumble. “…It hurt a lot more yesterday.”
John’s nostrils flare. The fire reflects off his eyes in such a way that, for a moment, it almost looks like it’s coming from within him. “I’d kill him again if I could.”
Your stomach clenches at the ferocity behind his words. 
“You—you shouldn’t have done it in the first place,” you croak. “Not when he was—” right, you don’t say. Right to haul you out of town by your hair and drag you back to the scene of the crime, back to pay for what you’d done. 
“Now I ain’t gonna hear you go spoutin’ that horseshit,” he growls, clasping you by the back of your neck and tugging you to his side. It’s so sudden that your butt skids across the ground, raking up a small mound of dirt with the weight of your body.
You look away, unable to meet his eyes even as he pulls you forward until you’re nearly nose to nose. “It’s not—”
“Yes, it is, darlin’. That shit weren’t none of your fault. You ain’t done a thing wrong by keeping yourself safe.” 
It’s almost hard to hear. It’s taken you months to scrub the dirt from your soul, which until recently was raw to the touch and pained you to even think back on. And the hopelessness. And the longing, the irreversibility of it; irreversible in the way that you couldn’t turn your pain inside out. You could never go back to the way things were because the only way out was to keep on trudging forward. 
Like rain in a drought, you’ve been missing someone’s mercy. You’ve been waiting for someone to come and forgive you for your sins; someone to absolve you of them. 
You lean forward, burying your face in his neck. Not making much of a sound except for a harsh exhale, your throat quavering with something unsaid. 
Then you grip him by the back of his shirt and pull him to the ground with you. 
Out in the open like this, John doesn’t dare remove your clothes, but he does reach beneath your dress to pull off your underclothes. He’s silent through it all, eyes fixed on yours. Never wavering or dropping your gaze. It’s intoxicating to be stared at with such a fierce intensity. Vaguely overwhelming, the sensation creeping up your chest and lodging in your throat. 
The light of the fire he built for the two of you flickers across his skin, illuminating his face in shades of orange and gold. 
He holds your gaze when he rucks the skirt of your dress up and crawls down the length of your body until his mouth is level with your center, slick already dripping from your sex. Your breathing goes haggard, anticipating his mouth before it’s suddenly there between your thighs, planting a gentle kiss on your inner thigh before dragging his lips over your sensitive skin until they brush your clit. Your mouth opens to a soundless gasp. Electrical impulses travel up your spine, your arching back following their trajectory. 
He pulls back to stare at your dripping hole. “Missed me, my love?” 
You’d answer if you could form words, but then you realize who he’s talking to and your mind goes blank. 
When he runs his tongue up the seam of your pussy, you jolt, legs slung over his shoulders kicking at the air. He eats you out with gusto, with reverence, sighing into your pussy that it’s been too long, that he’d worried himself nearly half to death over you. 
Rough hands hold you by your waist and pull you down onto his face. Long, crude licks of his tongue, rubbing the flat of it over your clit until you’re a roiling, twisting hotbed of pent up arousal. 
The urge to suppress your noises is almost overwhelming. When you twist your head from side to side, there’s nothing but miles of land; trees and shrubbery and a deep, impenetrable darkness. Not another person around for miles. It makes you shiver when you stare out into it. 
“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t—” you gasp, chest getting tighter and tighter until you expect it to burst but it doesn’t. It stays all pent up, all itchy and scratchy and you can feel the sweat slicking the small of your back and the blood furiously rushing to your cheeks, heating you up from the inside out. Sweat-laden and flustered. 
Your toes curl in your boots, throat tightening up the closer it gets. All it takes to push you over the edge is John cupping his hands under your butt to tilt your hips up, licking you from hole to hole. The impertinence and thrill sends a rush through your body, the coil in your belly twisting and releasing, core pulsing around nothing. Your body gives a violent jolt when he gives your clit one last wet, suckling kiss.
“Are you comfortable like this, darlin’, or should I wait until we’re home?” John asks when he positions himself over you again, beard still wet with your desire and a big hand cupping the front of his trousers. You stare down at the hair dusting his knuckles and the bulge straining against his pants. 
The shadows make it seem even larger than usual. Your throat goes dry the longer you stare down at where he fists his length through his trousers.
“Darlin’?” he repeats, drawing your attention back up to his face.
“Oh?” you ask, cheeks heating. “I’m, um…I’m quite comfortable.”
It seems absurd to have such a conversation when your husband’s hand is reaching into his trousers to pull out his cock and fuck you with it, but the nervous tickle in your belly is far from unpleasant. 
He’s so careful with you, cognizant that your muscles are already sore and aching from days of being on the road and the abuse Graves put you through. Gentle hands maneuver your legs around his hips and move your hair from your face. Again your belly flips. 
Your grunt is involuntary when he first pushes in, walls stretching around the head of his cock. It hasn’t been long enough for the blunt intrusion to be painful, but it’s overwhelming all the same. You wince and grimace through it all. 
“Easy does it. You’re alright,” John shushes when you whimper, rough hand cupping your cheek. It sends a thrill down your spine, but doesn’t lessen the intensity. 
He stays like that for a time, hovering over you and stroking a thumb over your cheekbone until you relax around his girth, gradually finding your breath again. In and out; one after the other. When he pulls his hand away, it’s to plant his forearms on the ground beside your head and grind his hips forward, taking your breath away. 
“Oh Lord,” you wheeze, then brace your hands around his neck. 
“You’re doing great, darlin’. Just hold on; I’ve got ya.”
It’s nothing like the times before; your arms link around his neck and your breath goes shallow, hitching with every measured thrust. It’s too much and not enough. You feel windswept and battered, bruises smarting now that you’ve had time to feel them, but still you need more from him. 
He works himself into the wet flex of your pussy with slow, heavy thrusts. Taking his time. Not rushing it just yet because though the threat of you being taken from him still looms over his head, he’s sated his bloodlust. His reassurance now comes in the form of your legs spread to receive him and the fat head of his cock fitting snugly in you. 
The heels of your boots press firm against the flesh above his buttocks. Taking him this way with your clothes still on feels debaucherous, filthier than usual; like you were so desperate to have your husband inside you, that you couldn’t even be bothered to remove your garments. 
He must feel the way that thought heats you up because he rasps, “Need a lil somethin’, love?” 
Before you can even answer, he’s reached a hand down and tucked it between your thighs to strum the tight bundle of nerves at the apex of your sex. 
“John—”
Your fingernails must dig into the back of his neck because he grunts. Serves him right, you think, digging your nails in all the harder when grinds a knuckle against your clit and you briefly see stars. 
You’re splintering down to the root, coming apart in his hands like clay; when he says your name, the darkness fades and for a moment, you’re in the light, a shaft of it haloing your face. Chasing it no matter how fast it runs. A hare in a snare, a shadow captured in the palm of your hand. 
It comes fluttering down from somewhere beyond sight. Gasped out in another voice, a truer voice. From the depths of you, true as stone and air. 
“I love you.”
Give it time and it’ll come naturally. Now, it comes as a gut punch. Even John stills over you when he hears the words, and you can feel the shudder that runs through him under your fingertips. There’s no time to sit and talk about it though, not with the frenzy that comes over him, blue eyes glazed over by a manic glint. 
He braces one hand on the top of your head and surges forward, so rough with you that your teeth clack together, eyes rolling back in your head. 
“Say it again,” John growls, leaning down until his mouth is right next to your ear. 
“I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you—”
Then it hits you. A wall of heat. Your belly rolling and cheeks burning, walls squeezing around John’s cock, tighter with every thrust. You yelp when he lifts himself off you to yank the skirt of your dress up higher and presses his hands to your inner thighs, spreading your legs wider for him. Bullies his cock into your channel even as you try to squeeze him out, pounding into you until the lurid torrent of words spilling out of his mouth go slurred and his release floods into you, his hips slapping against yours until he’s emptied the last of his spend into your womb. 
It’s a while before either of you can move after that. Your energy melts into the ground like rainwater, purifying the earth. Maybe life is already germinating beneath you, grass seedlings about to burst from the dirt, flower buds curled up in tight coils until they’re ready to bloom. 
Your hands shake when you lift one up to wipe the sweat from your face. 
When he finally pulls out of you, the feeling of his come leaking down your inner thighs makes you fussy. You lift your thighs just enough to let him pull your drawers back up before lying back down, no energy left in you to do more than that. You only scrunch your nose a little at the feeling of your combined juices already wetting the gusset.
Time seems to come apart and then piece back together. You roll over onto your side and nestle up against John’s chest, staring up at him wordlessly. His eyes stay shut for some time until he feels your stare on him and they peel open, the color of his irises barely discernible in the flickering light. 
“Somethin’ on your mind?” he asks in a tone so devoid of accusation or condemnation that you’re almost thrown by it. He says it like it’s just another day, like something horrible and monumental didn’t just happen. 
It takes you a while to find the words. Even when you do, they come out jumbled and disjointed. “How long have you…—when did you find out?”
“‘Bout what happened back East?” he clarifies, blunt as usual. 
The question makes you swallow impulsively, anxiety secreting from you again. “Yes.”
John looks up into the dark sky, quiet for a spell. “Not until recently. The arrest warrant drifted across my desk probably around the time Graves first stopped by. Wasn’t hard to put two and two together after that—you showing up in a tizzy around the same time as the warrant was issued. General description matched as well.”
You feel a bit foolish in retrospect, certain that you were getting away with it all this time. 
“You know my name.”
“I do.”
“My real name.”
“In a manner of speaking. Got yourself a new last name since then though, didn’t you?”
Your lips pull up at the corners involuntarily. “Yes. I guess so.”
You can almost hear it now. The penultimate note of the overture writhing against convalescence like you might stay this way for a second longer. But it isn’t right to keep feeling the same old pain. At some point, it has to heal. 
“Hey,” John says, giving your shoulder a little shake to draw your attention back to him. The look in his eyes is serious. “This is as far as the story goes, alright?”
You stare up at him silently until you nod against his chest. 
“You’re my wife. End of story. The rest ain’t anyone’s business but ours.”
Off in the distance, an owl hoots, and its call hits your ear as a distant evocation to sleep. You press one last kiss to his chest before rolling off him, letting him put the fire out before the two of you turn in for the night, and then drawing a blanket over the both of you. 
And then, you go to sleep.
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buckyalpine · 21 hours ago
Text
His Winter Flower
Modern Beauty and the Beast AU Winter soldier x f reader
Long awaited, I hope you all enjoy it as well.
Word count: 8.9k
Warnings: 18 + Angst, injuries, Fluff, All the sweet smut, Bucky is a sweetheart
"оставаться внизу" [Stay down] The soldier ordered, holding his gun to the targets forehead, his metal finger twitching against the trigger while the man cowered in front of him.
"Please" The man tried to plead but it was no use. He knew his fate was sealed the second he heard the thud of the boots entering his home. The whirring of metal. The ghost people spoke of but never saw until it was too late.
"тишина" [Silence] The soldiers rough voice growled behind the mask that covered his face. He pressed the barrel further into the man's head, freezing when he heard the soft patter of footsteps nearing the office he had broken into.
"Papa?" A soft voice called, the scent of roses and vanilla accompanying it, "Papa, where are y-
You gasped as you entered your father's study, your heart dropping to your stomach seeing him kneeling on the floor with his hands tied while the soldier towered above him.
So the rumors were true.
The silver of his arm was illuminated in the moonlight, the rest of him covered in Kevlar and black leather. Weapons were strapped to every bit of his body but the only one that worried you now was the one that was about to take your father's life.
"Don't hurt him!" It was a futile attempt to save your father, you knew this enough. The Winter Soldier didn't spare anyone, in fact for the longest time you wondered if he was nothing more than an urban legend. No one had actually seen him. Those that did didn't live to speak the tale. The soldier grunted in response, hardly sparing you a glance as he stared at the man before him.
A professor. A brilliant man. One who was quietly working with a group of researchers aiming to destroy the the longtime work of Arnim Zola from so many years ago. No more serums. No more soldiers.
Hydra wouldn't have that.
Not when those very serums created their best asset, the Winter Soldier himself.
"Он моя миссия" [He is my mission] Was the only response you were given. You didn't understand the words he said but it didn't matter; it was quite clear. He didn't intend on sparing the professor.
"Darling, please go, it's okay" Your father shook his head, ready to accept the consequences of his choices. He hoped to aid in the movement of making the world safer and if this was his end, he was prepared to meet it. Tears welled in his eyes with a sad smile on his face, "It'll be alright, go, hurry-
"No, please!" You pleaded with the soldier once again, all you could see were his blue eyes, void of emotion, cold and icy. "If-if you kill him, someone will take his place and then another. My father will no longer help with the government if you spare him and take me. Please just take me instead, it will put an end to all this. Please"
If you kill him, someone will take his place
The words rang through the soldiers mind.
It shouldn't be a problem. He'd killed plenty of people before but...
Then it would be another mission to carry.
And then another.
Another.
The innocent man trapped in his brain screamed to stop. A voice long forgotten, begging him to reconsider. To fight against the words that were causing him to do this. The solider flinched, fighting within himself, contemplating his next actions. The mission was to ensure Arnim Zola's work wouldn't be eradicated. The girl was offering herself to ensure the same work wouldn't continue. He wouldn't have more blood on his hands if he allowed the professor to live.
He shouldn't have cared but a part of him did.
He didn't want to kill another innocent man.
He never wanted to kill anyone.
Your father let out a sigh of relief feeling the weight of the gun pull away, only to have his greatest fear come alive; losing you.
"NO, darling you don't know what you're doing, I'll be fine-
It was too late. The soldier cut through the ropes that bound your father's wrists, taking you instead. Before your father could reach for you, the soldier grabbed and hauled you over his shoulder and strode away, ignoring the plea of the professor to spare his only daughter.
His mind was made up.
She was not his mission but now he had a new one.
If he killed the man, another would take his place.
He was risking repercussions listening to the trapped soul only his mind could hear.
He shouldn't have listened to her words.
He shouldn't have let the professor go.
Yet he agreed.
The gait of the soldier lulled you into a dreamless sleep; exhaustion consumed you as he wandered through a thicket of trees and into the woods far from home. You hadn't spoken a word nor let out a cry as he carried you off, after all, you agreed to be his prisoner as long as you father lived.
-
He brought you to a place he knew no one would find.
A place no one else knew of.
A place that was now his own.
He was once sent to take the life of a wealthy aristocrat, a man who had no one to leave his estate to. The place was deep in a forest, away from most of humanity; even when Hydra had sent him to finish the man, they were unable to give him a location. The soldier had located the target himself only to find the man had already passed from old age.
No questions were asked.
The mission was considered complete.
The body was disposed of and for quite some time, the soldier thought nothing of the castle like place that no one else knew of. It was a secret only he knew and he soon found himself seeking its solitude. A resting place between missions. A place to patch up. A place to hide when his mind was too loud, trying to escape from clutches he didn't understand.
It was the closest place he had to freedom.
The soldier pushed through the heavy wooden doors, entering the dark oak foyer. He stilled, torn between taking you down to the cellar or taking you to the rooms up in the master wing.
How could he chain something so soft.
How could he imprison something so delicate.
His feet began to move towards the large staircase before his mind could process anything, shifting to carry you in his arms as he made his way up to the west wing. He set you down gently onto the large bed with the soft sheets, careful not to stir you. He stared at your sleeping form, unmoving from his place as you softly snored, the choices of his actions beginning to plague his mind.
What was he to do with you now. Why hadn't he gotten rid of you.
He knew the rules; once his job was done, he was to return to the base but he hadn't completed the mission. He had been away for weeks and the longer he was away, the louder the screaming was. The voice of a young sergeant who fought bravely in the war. The pleading young man, scared like a child, trapped in the body of a killing machine. The cries of a little boy trying so hard to runaway from monsters that haunted him every single night. All trapped and begging to escape.
He'd let the professor live.
It was wrong of him.
He disobeyed his orders.
Or perhaps it was the right thing to do.
Though the soldier had been brainwashed, there were times he found himself caught in-between a state of control and chaos. His duties were to Hydra. He knew this was wrong. You shouldn't be here. His task was to continue their vision. He was their asset. He belonged to them.
His tourmiol continued. Why did he spare the professor. Why did he bring the girl and set her down on the softest bed out of all the rooms when he should have chained her in a cell. Exhaustion began to weigh on him but he didn't close his eyes. He didn't allow sleep to consume him. The soldier remained in place even as the sun rose. He watched as you stirred, soft sunlight streaming through the curtains, falling onto your face.
-
You blinked, rubbing sleep from your eyes, a fearful gasp escaping your lips when you saw him sitting in the armchair in the corner of the room. A thousand thoughts began to run through your mind at once as you sat up, a part of you surprised to find your hands and legs free from binds. You were atop a plush mattress on a large bed, the room itself surprisingly warm and quaint. Had you not been in a state of terror, you would have taken some time to appreciate the olive green walls and fine paintings that decorated the space as well as the well kept antique furniture.
"Please don't hurt me" You whispered, still disoriented from the night before.
"я не буду" [I won't] He replied, aware you didn't understand him. His lips twitched, all the words of English he wanted to speak dying in his mouth. His mind wouldn't allow it.
It wasn't required for this mission.
You stayed frozen in place while he said nothing else, walking off and closing the door behind him. Tears welled in your eyes as dread began to set in. This was your life now. He could kill you at any moment without warning. In fact, you didn't understand why he hadn't. From the rumours, you knew the soldier never took prisoners. You didn't know why you were spared; the only sliver of joy you had was that your father was alive. You thought about your him as you gathered yourself out of bed, deciding to make the best of your circumstances with the faintest hope that one day you'd be reunited with him again.
You inspected the room the soldier had put you in. There was a vanity across the bed. A walk in closet that only contained a few old sheets. You gasped as you entered the en suite bathroom, white marble tiles covering the floor, a large clawfoot tub, brass and gold accents decorated the handles of the cupboards.
The room was enchanting.
After splashing some water onto your face, you crept into the hallway, padding down to the staircase, surprised again at the beauty of the place. High ceilings. Dark wood. Crystal albeit dusty chandeliers. French doors. Original paintings. It was the type of place you'd imagine when you read fairytales. It would have been the type of place you'd dream to live in; one you'd only imagine in your wildest fantasies where the princess finds her prince. Such stories were only found in books.
You quietly explored the main floor of the mansion and avoiding the rooms which were locked shut. You didn't dare touch a thing, quickly retreating back to your room once you'd seen everything, familiarizing yourself with it's layout. The kitchen. A study. A living room. The hauntinly beautiful hallways. A door to the grounds in the back. You hadn't seen the soldier which both relieved and scared you.
Where did he disappear to?
That night, there was a knock at your door and when you opened it, a plate of warm food was left on a tray. Boiled carrots. Potatoes. A dinner roll. You hadn't even heard his footsteps down the hall. As you peered out of your room, it was empty without the slightest hint that anyone had been there seconds ago.
Where had he gone?
You hadn't realized how hungry you were until you took the first bite, scarfing down the rest in haste, placing the tray back in the hall. The next day was the same. You woke up to find a simple spread of breakfast outside of your room; toast and jam.
The soldier was a man of his word; if you were to be his captive, he had to keep you alive.
At least until he knew what to do with you...
Days had passed and you'd managed to avoid him, keeping to yourself and staying out of his way but you weren't able to avoid him forever.
-
The soldier had already heard you coming, pausing his cleaning as he waited for you to enter. The sight of your trembling form evoked something inside him.
You were scared. He didn't like it.
His mask remained on his face while his blue eyes peered at you, waiting for you to speak.
"I-I need clothes" Your voice was hardly a whisper, body shaking as you approached him, finding him in the study room, parts of his gun in hand. There was nothing wrong with the simple cotton dress you had on though it certainly wasn't comfortable to sleep in every night and you weren't able to wash and it dry within the same day. You needed at least one other set of something to wear. "Please"
He nodded without a word, resuming his cleaning while you retreated to your room. His brows furrowed as he thought about what you'd need. Perhaps it would be easier to return you and finish off the professor or get rid of you both-
No.
No.
He didn't want more blood on his hands.
The foods he stole were already a risk....where would he go for clothes?
-
The next morning, you found a fresh set of clothes left beside your tray of breakfast. You lifted the pile and brought it to your room, munching on the toast that had come with honey instead of jam for a change.
There was a red Henley and some sweatpants. A black t shirt and joggers. A few other basics for you to wear comfortably around the house. You couldn't help but giggle at the very large leather jacket he'd also left in case you felt cold even though there were already plenty of warm blankets. They were very clearly his own clothes but they were all washed and perfectly clean. You couldn't expect him to go shopping for you.
You threw off your dress, taking a long bath before drying off and slipping on the Henley and sweats. They were warm and soft, fitting loosely on your smaller frame, his soft scent of something distinctly him clinging onto the material. It was strange that it didn't bother you. Quite the opposite. It was pleasant, almost comforting.
You wondered about the man behind the mask and who he was. Such a dangerous man who was giving you the clothes off his back, feeding you and keeping you alive even though he'd killed hundreds of others. He was dangerous and yet he looked at you with such softness, you couldn't understand how he'd be capable of hurting anyone.
What was his story?
He hadn't chained you to the bed.
He hadn't locked you in your room.
You were free to go about where you liked.
Surely he wasn't all evil?
As you grew more accustomed to your living arrangement, you decided to inspect more of the kitchen. You hadn't been told you couldn't cook; even if the soldier didn't kill you, boredom eventually would. You needed something to pass the time and he had disappeared yet again.
You opened the fridge and pantries surprised to find a few fruits and vegetables stocked up. An untouched sack of flour and bag of sugar sat at the bottom of the shelves. Who knew the winter soldier enjoyed plums so much? There were a few pots and pans as well as basic kitchen utensils. You didn't need much to make a simple meal, careful not to make a mess as you began to peel some carrots.
-
The soldier blinked as he entered the house, the smell of food wafting throughout, a smell he hadn't come across in a long time.
Home.
There was a pot of stew left on the stove along with a pie left to cool on the counter. His eyes widened at the way his stomach grumbled; it had been years since he'd truly felt hunger. He ate for sustenance. Raw, uncooked, at most boiled food to keep him going. When he was with Hydra, he was fed with a tube.
Just basic nutrients to keep him alive.
He hadn't had a home cooked meal in years.
-
You woke up the next morning to find a pastry at your door instead of toast. When you wandered into the kitchen, you smiled at the tiny crumbs left pie tin and the now empty pot of stew. There were also newly stocked ingredients waiting for you; berries, potatoes, somehow even a whole chicken. You got to work, deciding to try something new each time; each night a warm meal awaited the soldier along with something sweet at the end.
He continued to bring you breakfast but there were only so many different pastries and cakes he could nick, besides they didn't compare to yours.
It wasn't enough. The soldier frowned at the strange feelings he had within himself.
He wanted to do something for you.
He wasn't sure what. He smuggled a handful of cookies you'd baked that morning into his room before removing his mask and savoring each once. He didn't leave a crumb behind, licking the remnants of chocolate off his lips while his mind wandered. You didn't have to cook for him. In fact you had every right to try and escape from him but you never did. He recalled the number of bookshelves that lined your home, after all he'd taken note of every detail as part of his mission.
You liked to read.
-
You sat up when you heard a knock at your door, the soldier waiting on the other side. He looked at you with a softness you hadn't seen previously, turning around and walking down the hall, hoping you'd follow him.
You stayed a few feet behind, trailing after him as he led you to the living room, leading you to the large bookshelf. He wordlessly stood by it, the strange sensation of nervousness and anxiety bubbling within him when you looked at what he wanted to show you.
Would you like it? You looked so unsure, scared. Perhaps you wanted to be free, you wanted to leave, you-
"M-May I?"
He blinked hearing your voice, nodding, watching your eyes light up as you scanned the various book titles. Gasps of joy and little squeals of delight escaped your lips as you came across stories you adored.
That wasn't the only thing that made his heart beat faster. Seeing you in his clothes stirred something in him. You were dressed in his red Henley, the hem reaching mid thigh. He was pulled away from admiring you as you squeaked, seeing one of your favorite books from when you were a little girl, a first edition no less.
"How did you get all these" You were in absolute awe, lost in your own world while he pondered how he came to own such treasures. Perhaps he was always a soldier gone rogue. His missions came with a side of thievery when he'd see something that would catch his eye. Something that would spark a memory of sorts, such as an old book he'd seen as he passed an vintage bookstore. Soon, the shelves of the mansion were filled with books and trinkets he'd collected. A part of his brain would nearly break itself to try and connect to the things he'd collect, only for the memories to fail to fall into place.
His mind felt like a pile of shreds from different cloths; pieces that would never fit together again. His little treasures were the closest he'd ever get to remembering, a few sparks from the past that would forever be disconnected.
-
Ever since the soldier had shown you the shelves of books, you'd left your room more often, spending more time reading after cooking. In a strange way you also began to trust the very masked man who had taken you away. You didn't worry about him hurting you. You no longer worried about running into him. He hardly spoke, nothing more than a few words of Russian. He hadn't demanded you stay locked in your room, so why did you?
You picked up one of your favorite books, deciding to read outside in the garden, in need of some fresh air. You hadn't taken much time to look at the outside of the house, pausing as you opened the doors that entered the grounds. It was strangely beautiful, especially considering the assassin who resided in it. For such a dark soul, nature still continued to flourish around it. Tall, overgrown hedge fences surrounded the backyard while weeping willows and bushes of flowers shaded the stone paths that led to a fountain in the very center. You found a comfortable spot under the tree, settling onto the cool grass, the scent of spring calming you as you turned to the first page.
-
The soldier trudged through the doorway, surprised at the way his appetite had grown since you'd started cooking. His body which was used to sustaining itself on the bare minimum now rumbled through the day. He'd find his mind wandering to your pies and craving the comfort of the soup you'd make. The food was set in the kitchen but you were nowhere to be found. He walked past your room, knocking on the door, only to be met with silence.
Where did you go? Did you run away?
He knew something was wrong when he felt his heart sink because he couldn't find you. He couldn't remember the last time his heart felt anything other than emptiness. It was more than just you escaping.
He was worried about you.
He took longer strides as he searched for you with purpose, fingers already itching to reach towards his gun, deciding to first check the grounds in the back. His heart settled when he saw the doors to the garden left ajar, finding you nestled in the shade, curled up in the grass with a book.
You were safe. You hadn't run away.
Again he was left stunned and unable to move. You were the final piece in the puzzle of the garden; you fit there like the perfect flower. He'd seen the garden 100 times before and it had never looked so beautiful.
Not until now.
Roses and daisies grew in abundance but you were the prettiest thing there. You were meant to be there; a soft, delicate, flower.
"цветок"
You set down the book you were reading, looking up to see the soldier peering down at you. You hadn't heard him coming as he appeared before you with the silence of a ghost.
"цветок" He repeated, gazing at you before looking towards a daisy. He kneeled, plucking one and handing it to you, "цветок. мягкий, как ты" [Flower. Soft, like you]. You felt your cheeks heat up as he looked at you intently, blinking with an innocence you hadn't seen before. He looked almost...shy?
"Thank you" You whispered, stroking the petal of the flower he gave you. You didn't understand why you longed for him to stay as he went back inside, your curiosity about him growing with each passing day.
It went on like this.
Most days, you would spend your time exploring the trinkets the soldier collected, staying out of his way while he disappeared into the forest to do things you didn't pry into. Each night you knew he would return, hearing the heavy creak of the doors open during the darkest hours. You'd hear the quiet sound of clinking cutlery and then the soft sound of his bedroom door shut.
Except tonight.
You set down your book hearing the sound of heavy boots dragging down the hall, quite different from the silence the soldier usually moved with. A sense of dread washed over you as you debated on staying put, something telling you to lock the door, hide, something-
"What do we have here" The click of your door opening sent shivers down your spine, your blood running cold as a man strode in, a metal mask covering his face showing nothing but his eyes. You wanted to scream but your voice was stuck in your throat, you felt safe with the soldier, this man was not the same, he lunged towards you, knife in hand, the blade swiping towards your neck, "The soldiers little pet"-
"DON'T TOUCH HER" A growl shook the window as you hugged your knees to yourself waiting for the knife to plunge but it never came. You gasped as the man was ripped away, the flash of silver gleaming as the soldier grabbed him and hauled him away, shutting the door behind him.
"You're weak. You were supposed to kill him"
"So this is what's been keeping you"
"Kill her and come back to us. That's an order"
"Rumlow-
"Kill her. They're nothing more than collateral damage, end them, желание-
You didn't dare move, tears spilling down your cheeks as you heard the sounds of a struggle growing further and further away, eventually melting into silence.
He saved you.
You heard him return, still frozen in fear but the sound of a pained whimper pulled you out of bed. You peered into the hall, eyes widening in horror seeing a trail of blood staining the floors leading to his room, streaks of crimson smeared onto the wall. You didn't think twice as you dashed out of your room to his, your body moving faster than your mind could comprehend as you let yourself in.
Your heart continued to race seeing the blood lead to the washroom where he stood with a needle in hand, beginning to sew a gash on his side across his ribs. His bloodied tactical gear was thrown on the floor though his mask still remained hoping to silence himself as he attempted to take care of himself.
He hissed in pain, piercing his skin while his head began to spin, multiple wounds needing attention, the blood loss starting to take its toll.
"Let me" you hesitated to touch him, going against your better judgement when you wrapped your hand around his wrist, pulling his hand away. The soldier shook his head, fighting the way his body craved for something more gentle, more caring, more loving than the jagged and painful stitches he was giving himself.
"I won't hurt you, soldat" you looked in his eyes with such sincerity, for a moment he thought he'd ask you to be his girl.
Such a doll...
One he'd take dancing...
Call you darlin' with that Brooklyn drawl...
He blinked at the fleeting memory, a whimper escaping his lips when you dabbed his gash with an alcohol soaked cotton ball. You blew across the cut to soothe the pain before taking the needle and carefully stitching him up with a feather light touch.
"There" You whispered after taking care of the awful injuries that littered his body, leading out of the bathroom to lie down so he could rest. You didn't dare ask what had happened as you looked around the room; though there was a large bed with the softest sheets and finest materials but the makeshift pallet on the floor was clearly where he chose to sleep at night. He collapsed from exhaustion, falling into a deep sleep while you remained by his side.
You watched the rise and fall of his chest, occasionally glancing over the dressings you'd put to see if blood had seeped through. You couldn't bring yourself to leave him alone, only getting up to see if you could find a sheet to drape cover yourself with in the cold room. As you removed the blanket that covered the bed, something caught your eye in the mostly untouched room.
A wooden box, carefully tucked away in the furthest corner of the room. There wasn't any dust on it, compared to the other pieces of furniture that were never used. It was something he very clearly wanted to keep a secret. His other treasures that were out in the open on the shelf were different from this.
Even the soldier had secrets.
Your curiosity got the best of you as you made your way to the corner, lifting the box as silently as you could so you didn't wake him, inspecting its contents.
Newspaper articles, some decades old.
Old photographs.
One of a young man.
The eyes.
Those blue eyes you'd become so familiar with.
James Buchanan Barnes.
A brave soldier who fought in the war. A young man, no, a boy, drafted to war, his life ripped away from him, leaving him for dead in an icy forest. You blinked back tears at the innocence the young Sergeants eyes held, bright and heroic, hoping to help in a fight that wasn't his. Scribbles on scrap pieces of paper read "I am James Buchanan Barnes" repeatedly.
Your could feel your heart break into tiny little fragments as you pieced together what happened to the boy from Brooklyn, he had his whole life ahead of him but-
A pained scream tore from his lungs, his eyes squeezed shut as you knelt by his side again, brows furrowed together. You looked over his injuries, everything was still in place but he sounded like he was being tortured. He tossed around, his screams melting into sobs, pleading for someone to stop.
"James?" You hesitated to use his real name, your hushed voice made him flinch in his sleep but it wasn't enough to pull him as he begged for the painto end. He didn't want to lose his memories again. He wanted to remember. Please?
"You're alright James" You cooed softly, running your fingers through his locks while tears continued to stream down his face, lost in a nightmare. "You're not alone"
You were careful not to scared him awake, your gentle ministrations soothing him, his cries coming to a stop. You wiped away the remnants of tears that fell against his cheek, some slipping beneath the mask he refused to remove. You didn't have in you to take it off, not without asking him first. His soft snores filled the room once again as the sun began to rise.
-
He stirred feeling a strange warmth surrounding his body blinking in confusion when he found soft sheets draped over him. The usual sting he'd feel after stitching himself up was nearly non existent. He ran his fingers along the gash, the neat little sutures still in place, covered with a bandage to protect the area. Bits and pieces of the night came to him in waves.
Running into his captors. Evading them. Escaping. The bloodshed. The weapons. The injuries. The pain.
However, there was also softness. Such tenderness. The touch of an angel he'd only be able to imagine in his wildest dreams that would never come true. Not for someone like him. Such sweetness. God, he'd missed it. He missed what such love and care felt like. It was so foreign to him. He was so used to the cold. Razor sharp, jagged edges. He'd forgotten so many things but the longer he kept to himself, the more that came back to him.
You called him by his name. He was sure of it. In the muddled fog of nightmares, he was sure he heard an angel call.
He knew he was in no condition to move or get you breakfast but the delicious smell of your cooking wafted through the halls letting him know it was okay for him to rest. He closed his eyes, flinching at the few prickles of pain he felt in his head.
You were there.
You'd take care of him.
He couldn't remember everything just yet but surely the puzzle pieces would fall into place soon.
-
"NO" The sound of the soldiers pained cry made you drop the book you were reading in your room, running off to find him. He'd fallen asleep after eating what you made for him that evening; you were sure he was getting better. He knelt on the floor, sweat covering his body as he gripped his hair, pulling from the roots. He felt another sharp piercing pain in his head, fleeting memories of things he didn't understand all flooding back at once.
You rushed to his side, taking his hands into yours to keep him from hurting himself. His eyes shot up, tears threatening to spill over, all the things he thought were lost forever coming back together.
He was a Sergeant.
A soldier.
A young man.
One who loved to go dancing.
One who wanted to help others.
Hydra turned him into a beast but you brought him back.
There was always something about you.
His sweet flower.
He relaxed feeling your soft fingers trace against his palms in hopes of grounding him, giving both his flesh and metal hands equal affection. He gently pulled his right hand away to remove the mask, letting you see all of him.
"Soldat?" You whispered, hesitantly brining your hand up to his scruffy cheek. He pressed his hand against yours, leaning into the warmth of your touch, he never wanted it to end.
"цветок" [flower] he whispered back, your eyes widening hearing the precious name he had just for you, "It's me, flower"
"James?" You knew it was no longer the soldier speaking, this was the little boy from Brooklyn, his piercing blue eyes now full of warmth and light.
"Your father, I have to take you home, flower I'm so sorry-" dread began to consume him as he realized how long he'd taken you for, trading one life for another, how could he-
"James, breathe" You held his face in your hands, wiping away the tears that began to fall, your hand coming down the rest against his erratic heart, "It wasn't your fault, I-I read what happened to you, you were taken, it was never you, you're a good person" You soothed his aching heart but it didn't ease how heavy it felt. Every part of him wanted to beg for you to run away, so far away from him so you could be home again yet his arms moved on their own, wrapping you up and holding you close, you fit so perfectly with him.
"I'm still a broken man, цветок" Bucky whispered with a sad smile, holding you with such care as you curled up in his lap. "I don't think I deserve to hold something as sweet as you"
"You're not broken, you deserve this and more" You cooed, inhaling his soft scent, your nose brushing against the column of his neck.
"You took care of me, flower" Bucky held you tighter, hiding his face into the crook of your neck, feeling safe for the first time in years, home had never felt closer.
"And you took care of me" Your fingers moved to card through his hair, pulling his face away so he'd look at you.
"I took you with me, doll" He couldn't shake the fact that he'd taken you from your father, first intending to kill him and then taking you in his place. "I didn't give you a choice, you should be home" The guilt ate him from the inside, if he'd been himself, he would have never-
"And you still protected me with your life" You whispered, your forehead resting against his.
"And I always will" Bucky promised, his lips brushing against yours. He meant it from the bottom of his soul, he'd always protect you no matter where you were. It didn't matter that he didn't want you to leave, that he wished you could stay, he knew you belonged elsewhere. He'd still always make sure you were safe. Exhaustion began to pull at him, his eyes growing heavy as his body continued to fight what Hydra wanted him to do and the man he really was.
"Sleep, Jamie" You pulled him down to lay on your chest, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead and for the first time in years, he slept soundly without a nightmare.
Over the next few days, you continued to nurse the soldier back to health, hushing him each time he plead for you to go, insisting he'd be okay to manage on his own.
"My body will heal, I promise, you don't have to do all this for me, let me take you home-
"Once you're all better. I'll write to him so he knows I'm safe" You pressed a finger to his pink lips before going back to tucking him in bed. It was true that the cuts had all cleared up exceptionally quicker than normal but you could see the mental exhaustion that plagued him each day.
He found a way to get in touch with your father without alerting anyone in Hydra from finding him and while your father graciously forgave him with understanding, nothing felt easier. He promised to return you home as soon as it was safe but the longer he spent with you, the more he selfishly wished for it to last forever. He promised your father he'd take care of you in every way possible but he knew it was truly you taking care of him.
He'd sleep soundly when you were near, falling asleep quickly when you'd read to him, sometimes softly playing with his hair so he'd relax. The few times he'd been alone, the awful memories would come flooding back leaving him confused and disoriented. It broke your heart hearing him cry, the soldier who was nothing but a killing machine truly an innocent man on the inside, a prisoner of his own mind.
You'd comfort him every single time, every moment more intimate than the next. It started with your soothing voice, sitting by his bed where you'd call his name, your fingers caressing the scruff of his beard, wiping away his tears. Then the nights came where you crawled into bed with him, helping him fall asleep with his head on your lap only to wake up with your limbs tangled together.
Then he started to hold you before he was asleep. He held you tightly while telling you stories about things he could remember. Things that made him smile. That his nickname was Bucky. You would do the same. You told him about all the things your father taught you. He'd start to kiss you goodnight. Innocently with a peck to the top of your head.
Sometimes your cheek.
He so badly wanted to kiss your lips, stopping himself when he felt his stomach stir, especially when your sweet doe eyes looked up at him. When he cuddled you, his arms would wrap around your body, his hands finding their way to the hem of the Henley you wore. His henley. His fingers would slip up to feel your skin, knowing such an angel was real grounded him. You'd do the same, tracing over his scars, neither of you openly talking about the growing tension between you both each day.
-
"Will you read to me?" Bucky asked, wrapping his arms around your waist, his head resting on your shoulder while you stirred some honey into the tea you were making. You giggled at his needy cuddles, his much larger form practically engulfing you from behind. "Please"
"Who'd have thought such a strong, scary soldier would want bedtime stories" you cooed, letting him carry you away to his room, making a stop at the bookshelf first to pick out a new story.
He settled against the headboard with you tucked in his lap, relaxing at you made yourself comfy between his thighs. Your words had an affect on him he couldn't describe, no longer paying attention to what you were saying and instead watching the movement of your lips. Your eyes darting across the pages. Your body pressed against his.
The butterflies started again.
His stomach stirred.
He tried to adjust himself, pulling you into a hug to calm himself down, ignoring the way he wished he could have more.
"You alright, Jamie?" you asked, feeling his squirming, his eyes growing wide as if he'd been caught red handed. He shook his head, insisting you continue reading, God he didn't know what to do with himself.
He fidgeted again, this time trying to keep you off the tightness growing more and more, you made it so difficult for him-
"Are you sure you're okay bub?"
"I don't remember much but-I-I know I want you closer, flower" His voice was shy, his adams apple nervously bobbing in his neck as he shifted, unable to hide the hardness between his legs. His mind was a mess, fragments of love and intimacy struggling to piece themselves together yet he knew enough to want to hold you close.
He wanted to feel your soft skin on his.
He wanted to kiss you in places that would make your cheeks warm.
Where you'd want to cover yourself but let him have you, just him.
He wanted to feel your hands touch him everywhere. He wouldn't flinch at your delicate ministrations, he'd give all of himself to you. He'd trust you in his most vulnerable state, feeling things he hadn't for years, so heavy between his legs.
"How much closer, Jamie" you couldn't meet his eyes, gripping onto his t-shirt instead, setting the book on the nightstand, now all your attention on him.
"You know, angel" He let his nose bury into your hair, the blush on his cheeks travelling to his neck. He couldn't bring himself to actually say what he wanted, hesitantly moving his hands to your hips instead, slipping up your shirt to hold your waist. "Can-can I kiss you?"
He could hardly recognize himself, nervous beyond comprehension, his heart racing when you nodded, cupping his cheek to look at you. He leaned down to press his lips to yours.
"More" You let your body melt into his, his tongue lacing with yours, deepening the kiss. He didn't pull away until he desperately needed air, no longer able to contain his arousal.
"M'sorry angel, s'been so long, my body's not the same-
"Don't. Don't you dare, I adore you just like this Sergeant" He sucked in a breath as you toyed with the hem of his shirt, nodding after a moment letting you take it off. You kissed every scar on his chest, your head resting on his shoulder where metal met flesh, "You're the most handsome, beautiful man," You kissed his neck making him hiss, your tummy jumping at the feeling of his erection now pressed right against you, "You deserve all of this"
"Can I see you, please?" He undressed you with such care as if he was unwrapping the most precious present, first laying you down before slipping your top off. You wordlessly undressed each other until there was nothing left to take off going right back to wrapping your body with his.
"You're the softest thing I've ever touched" He whispered, loving how you felt, your thigh hitched over his hip, your breasts pressed against his bare chest, your soft tummy against the hard planes of his abs, your hands rubbing up and down his spine, oh God your silky most sacred parts absolutely soaking his length. His body moved on its own, rutting up to chase more, his cock slotting so perfectly with his flushed tip rubbing against your clit.
The desperate moan he let out made you gush, seeing how lost he was in chasing how good you felt with the stutter of his hips.
"M'so hard" He whined, hugging you tightly, "Please angel, do something" It was the most delicious torture. You pulled away from his hold wanting to give him every bit of loving he deserved, giving his body the pleasure it had been deprived of. You shuffled to kneel between his legs, his eyes growing wide, your face so dangerously close to where he was achingly hard. There was no way, you weren't going to- your lips pressed a gently kiss to his frenulum and the tears started, you wouldn't give him more than this-
"Baby, oh God, no, no, I can't angel, oh God-OHH" He cried, his body splayed wide for you, bach arching off the bed as you took his swollen cockhead into your mouth, your tongue swirling around his circles, licking every bit of his essence that dripped out. Your face was between his legs, his cock was in your mouth, you were suckling off his most sensitive parts, how could he not spread his thighs apart further for you. He'd never been so open or vulnerable, letting you play and toy with his cock, his tears soaking the pillow at his balls started to pull towards his body, it couldn't be over so soon-
"Sweet baby, please, please-" He pulled you off his cock, bringing you up to smash his lips against yours, his thick length slapping against his tummy. He could have sworn he was close to cumming just tasting himself on your tongue. "Can-please I want to-" He scrambled to lay you against the pillows as you squeaked at the way he manhandled you in desperation, "please"
He was between your thighs, sighing with heart eyes as he carefully spread your folds with his fingers, taking his time smearing around your slick, your throbbing clit begging for his mouth. He latched on like a baby, nursing with the most needy gurgles, your gasp melting into a moan making his eyes roll back.
He couldn't believe he had his mouth on his pretty angel, his tongue toying with the precious parts between her legs, letting him taste her, drinking up her nectar, feeding him in the best way possible.
"I-oh-slow down baby, please, M'gonna- You gasped, feeling surges of pleasure already pulsing as he flicked his tongue with precision, his arms wrapping around your thighs, tossing them over his wide shoulders.
"Mph, cum" he whined before diving in for more, greedily humping and grinding against the mattress, how was he supposed to last like this.
"Want-want to feel you, please" You begged, needing him inside you, giving you something thick and hard to cum on. He didn't waste a second, shakily clambering back on top of you, nervously positioning himself at your entrance.
"You sure, sweet girl? I-it's been so long"
"I trust you" You pulled him down to kiss his reddened nose making him blush, letting out the breath he was holding as he started to push. You both moaned together as he buried himself all the way, stilling once he was flush against you, his orgasm already so close to shooting at the base of his cock.
"Hng, I needed this angel" He didn't move and you didn't need him to, just the feeling of him stretching and filling you fulfilling something you couldn't describe. You loved the feeling of you both being connected in the most intimate way, joined as one, it felt so right like he was finally where he was meant to be. Like he'd found his everything.
Your thighs moved to hug his waist, your arms around his shoulders. He drew his hips back and thrusted forward gentle, the gasp escaping your lips urging him to keep going. He started to move at a steady pace, bringing his hands to lace with yours, pinning them against the bed.
"I love you-even if I have no right, I love you so much" Bucky lost himself to you, his hips moving at a slow grind, letting every inch of his cock fill and caress your walls, "You showed me love when I least deserved it"
"Fuck, I love you too!" You cried out, the curls at the base of his cock rubbing your clit, sending you higher and higher. "Oh, James!"
"My God, the way you say my name when m'inside you, say it again baby, please" He started to move faster on his own accord, primal urges starting to take over as he began to chase his pleasure and yours.
"Please, James, feels-feels so good"
"Gonna make me cum so hard, the things y'do to me baby, drives me crazy, wanna be like this for the rest of my life, making love to you and nothing else, swear this is all I want"
"James, gonna-gonna cum"
"Cum with me angel, all over my cock baby, cum on it, wanna feel it, please give it to me, I need it. Need your sweet cream all over me, fuck-yeah-jus like that-" You clenched around his cunt, his name dripping from your lips as your orgasm crashed over you. That was all it took as he tucked his face right against your neck, holding you tight as he trembled, it was so much,
"M'cumming!!" His sob was muffled as his cock throbbed, warm streams of his cum pumping you full, his ass stuttering with each jerk of his hips. "So-so much for you, s'all for you angel"
Bucky made love to you everywhere, not one place left without him taking you apart to his heart's content, including the garden. The story you were reading was long forgotten as he took you under the shade of the tree, the long wispy branches of the willow tree hiding you from the rest of the world.
The summer sun cocooned you in a blanket of warmth as clothes were all tossed aside leaving you both bare on the sheet you'd spread on the grass, the sounds of the breeze, the rustle of the bushes and your moans blending in so perfectly with his rhythmic thrusts.
"Beautiful" he whispered against your cheek, pulling away so he could look at every bit of you, "So beautiful for me like this"
"Jamie, stop" You grew bashful, you knew no one could see you in your secluded spot so deep in the forest but you still felt so vulnerable, spread out naked with just his body covering you, shamelessly taking his cock while the afternoon sun hung in the sky.
"S'just us baby, just you and me, don't worry" He purred, bringing your arms up, holding your wrists in his metal arm while his flesh hand came down to caress your face. "We're not doing anything wrong darling, m'showing you how much I love you, how good you make me feel, yeah?"
"Yeaah" Your voice melted into a breathy whine as he started to move with more purpose, his warm breath fanning against your face.
"Lookit how pretty you are sweet girl, my pretty flower, you were meant to be here baby, feels so right, just like this"
Out of all the stories and poetry you'd read to him, this was what Bucky saw as true art. He'd seen the finest paintings around the world in the richest houses, guarded by the highest security. He'd seen nature's most incredible wonders with the tallest trees, the sweetest flora and nothing, absolutely nothing, would top how gorgeous you were, bare, on the grass, him filling you up, it was euproic.
The image was etched in his brain, he'd treasure it forever. Your shy moans. The clench of your cunt. The way he filled you up and kept his cock in you even after it was soft. The way you cuddled and kissed in a post sex haze, listening to the sounds of the forest. He could have cried at the way you fell asleep in his arms, so trusting for him to keep you safe.
This was all he needed.
He took care of you, keeping you protected while he did his best to eradicate Hydra with you to patch him up each time he came home. As soon as it was safe, he took you right home and under the care of your father, he healed from the words that held him captive.
It didn't take long for your home to be filled with the sounds of tiny feet mixed with the sounds of science experiments gone wrong; your little babies, their daddy and their papa getting up to mischief at all hours.
"Careful, flower" Bucky shook his head, running towards you as you waddled into the living room with an expression of concern on your face, cocking an eyebrow when you saw your son looking up at you with bug eyed goggles matching his papa.
Bucky came to steady you, his hands coming to wrap around your growing belly while your father and son continued to tinker away at a new creation.
"How are my princesses" He cooed while you huffed, still wondering what they were doing.
"We're both wondering what you're going here James"
"Papa's building me a rocket-
"A bicycle! Just a bicycle darling, go sit, son why don't you take her for a walk" You father ushered you and Bucky out, sending a wink to his grandson.
"A bicycle my foot" You shook your head while Bucky took you to the kitchen, setting a pot of water, ready to dote on you as usual.
"He gets that side of him from you, love" Bucky chuckled, coming down to kiss your belly, resting his head there. "Just wait until she's here too"
"You're a menace, Sergeant"
"You married me, darling" Bucky pouted making you giggle, cupping his face to kiss his jutting lips.
"and I love every bit of you"
"I love you more, pretty girl"
You would always be his flower.
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hwnglx · 3 days ago
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pick a pile - what makes you beautiful? (detailed)
hello dear reader! let's take a look into what makes you so uniquely beautiful. breathe slowly, take your time and use your intuition to go with the pile that speaks to you the most. this is a very specific reading, so it's likely that not every message will speak to everyone. remember to take what resonates, and leave what doesn't. 𓆩♡𓆪
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✰ pile 1 ✰
so, this pile definitely gave me the biggest boss vibes. you have very strong energy, with so much major arcana in my spread. i can tell you are not someone to be messed with. (also kinda feel like you might parent or coddle the other piles lmao)
your beauty lies not only within your immense strength, but also in your ability to stand over situations which can appear very dark and difficult on the outside. i do believe you come with your own struggles, insecurities, doubts and fears which don't seem to always find their way to the surface; but you deal with them in such a graceful and impressive way. i can feel some people being in genuine awe of how you handle trials and tribulations. i do think you've been through certain things which have given you thicker skin. now, you know what you want and need in life, you're aware of your potential and what you can do, so even if a situation presents itself in which you find yourself in self-doubt, you believe in the power of hard work and consistency.
you don't seem like the type to dwell on your problems for too long or allow yourself to drown in self-pity, but moreso like a person who feels this desire to work on whatever troubles you. let's say if a situation presents itself to you, in which circumstances seem unfavourable; rather than complaining or remaining stuck in this hopeless place, you'll likely be the type to think about how you can change and work on your own attitude and mindset instead, in order to come out the other side in a stronger manner. you put a lot of importance into remaining confident and keeping a grip on your self-belief. since you see that as the best version of yourself. you appear to be very mature; even if your age is still young, you seem to have a wise soul and an impressingly reliable, as well as responsible nature. maybe you had to grow up quickly, you just give off this energy of someone who had to learn how to be responsible in life very early on.
considering i got both, the emperor and the empress for you, i think a lot of your beauty also lies in your duality. you're likely to have this balance of both feminine and masculine qualities inside of you. you seem to be the type of person who can be assertive, more self-centered and individualistic in some ways, like you do think it's important to focus on yourself in order to find fulfilment in this world. however this doesn't distinguish the compassionate heart you carry for other people. you're someone with an empathetic and kind nature, someone who wants to take care of the people you love.
you could make a very good parent, actually. i think you balance this sense of responsibility, dependability and solidity, with a nurturing heart, a soft and gentle core. you might be the case of someone with a hard shell but soft interior. i feel like you're the type to root for the underdog. someone who takes people under their wing, protects them from external influences. like you'd take a bullet for the people you cherish. (i do think you might be more selective in that aspect though, like you do have your boundaries straight, and wouldn't just throw your hand in the fire for anyone)
this is a random message i got; some of you also might be on the curvier side when it comes to your bodily built, and it makes you very very beautiful. like i can tell that some of pile 1's bodies are bangin! like yes sir or ma'am, go rock that bod with confidence!
another very beautiful thing about you; you do not fear getting your hands dirty. meaning, you're willing to put in the necessary hard work in life. like “if i have to personally run up this hill for several hours straight, then so be it, as long as i finally get to the top!” you aren't someone who will shy away from bearing burdens and heavy weights on your back, you understand the need to hustle in order to succeed. you can feel this need to improve yourself, put in the required effort to keep getting better at everything you do in life. not just for yourself, but also the people around you. you want to be a comfortable and stable figure in your loved one's lives.
i keep feeling like you're just this person people can lean on with no second thought; someone who will have their back no matter what. very loyal, dedicated and passionate energy within you. i'd personally love to be your friend, like i'd feel pretty lucky! i feel like you're the friend who keeps their promises, who's okay with running errands for others. you'd get things done for someone if they're unable to do so; like e.g. picking your friends up and driving them random places. maybe you're the friend at the party who holds themselves back from drinking in order to be the responsible one making sure everyone gets back home safely. you just seem to have this devotion to the ones you love, and wanting to make them feel safe, as well as cared for. you might also be a huge hype man in their lives, always cheering them on and lighting up any dark place they find themselves in. you have such bright and inspirational energy!
you carry this beautiful balance of; focusing on your own interests, ambitions, desires and goals, but also remaining considerate and caring towards the special people in your life.
✰ pile 2 ✰
oh my gawd, this pile is super cute. so, you immediately strike me as someone very independent and freedom-loving. you love to have your own space, and being able to just do whatever you want, whenever you want. i feel like you just have this very contagious and bright energy, where people might trust you to make the best out of every situation you're in. you seem like a big risk-taker, someone who doesn't fear the concept of change, and isn't afraid of starting all over again if you feel like that's necessary. you're so beautiful, in the way of just being down and ready to do things others might shy away from. you might be the person who will drag your friend out the dark and quiet room and tell them to get out, enjoy the beautiful sun on your skin, connect with mother nature, appreciate the smaller things in life and find happiness in them, because that's where true fulfilment lies. there is this very philosophical and poetic side to you. i keep feeling like you might have significant neptune/jupiter/mercury aspects.. i can just see you running through the blooming fields in this almost movie-like way. (random but do you like ghibli movies? you just give me ghibli character vibes, especially kiki's delivery service 🥹 i love that movie, it's so comforting)
you're beautiful in the way where.. you easily see beauty in the world. you seem so easily excitable, and count all the blessings you have in life. i feel like you're the type to find something positive in everything and everyone. random, but you might love photography, and taking pictures of almost everything around you, just because you can see art in anything or any place. you love exploring new places, new cultures, understanding and learning about people or things completely different to what you're used to. you might like to travel, because you enjoy this thought of getting insight into entirely new lifestyles. you're very open-minded.
you aren't worried about leaving toxic people or situations behind if you feel like they just keep you in a negative place. it's kinda giving been there done that. i think you consciously reject negativity now because you're not at that same place anymore, and especially don't want to be anymore. you're so overly protective of your peace now, because you had to deal with so many tribulations, and took so much on the chin from life in order to get to this place of inner peace. you don't allow anyone to take it away from you anymore.
you also don't seem afraid to completely transform. maybe you even enjoy transforming yourself physically, like you love reinventing yourself and can find your identity in things like your fashion. you enjoy expressing your unique nature in that way. i also just feel like you're such a pleasure to be around, people likely just enjoy your presence because it makes them feel like everything will be okay. did anyone ever tell you about how your presence is therapeutic to them? if not, some people might think that without openly expressing it.
i do think you can be very emotional too, which is another beautiful trait of yours. you might be the type to tear up rather easily, i think your interior is very squishy and sweet. you wear your heart on your sleeve in this beautiful and special way. you not being afraid to express your emotions (although sometimes they can just take over you unintentionally lmao dw i relate..) makes you so extraordinary, it gives you this unique light and glow. don't ever lose grip on this wonderful side of you. don't ever feel ashamed of it, and don't allow anyone to make you think you're anything but beautiful for your passion! i feel like you genuinely care about the world, and everything that it involves. your energy is just so pure and innocent in a way, even if you yourself don't see yourself that way. your intentions and heart read as very sweet.
in addition, your beauty lies in your ability to see opportunity of growth in whatever life throws at you. like pile 1, i do believe you have had to deal with your fair share of challenges in life, but this lead to you being able to see how.. even situations that might look awful from an outsiders perspective, can serve you as a learning lesson. “what doesn't kill you, makes you stronger.”
again, you're just so philosophical! i feel like we could just sit down together and discuss life for hours, in such a deep and intriguing manner. you seem to have a lot of understanding of the different complexities of life, just because you've experienced a lot of situations in which you had to adapt or adjust. so there's this natural know-how here, it's almost like you're not scared of life's upheavals anymore. you didn't let it discourage you at the time, so best believe it will not bring you down at this point in time. you're so youthful and almost childlike in spirit, but carry a deep sense of knowledge about life. like some other people might turn all bitter if they went through what you have been through, but you remained soft and sweet in this harsh world, which is such a beautiful trait to have! i sincerely applaud you, and hope you can never lose this truly wonderful spark inside of you.
✰ pile 3 ✰
oh, this pile seems so genuinely nice, but i can sense some struggle here too.. first of all, you read as a very humble and down to earth person. like i truly can't sense a single ounce of arrogance inside of you. you feel like you're an eternal student of life, continuously learning with every experience, and growing endlessly. you give off this energy of someone who's always so eager to expand your skills and knowledge on things. especially if you get hooked on something like a fun hobby, you're just so ambitious and approach the learning process with this modest, but determined attitude. you seem quite capable of dealing with constructive criticism, and take it as a way to further better yourself. like yes tell me what i did wrong, so i can improve. definitely a very hard-working and earnest energy within you.
you're so beautiful, because you live and lead with this sense of compassion and acceptance inside of you. you seem to have high emotional intelligence; as well as a lot of empathy for others. you're the type of person to.. hold this cup filled with love, in a crowd full of people fighting each other. while other people are overly competitive and at each other's throats to win over the other, you seem like the one who prefers seeing everyone as equally worthy of praise, equally lovable, equally deserving of respect. i truly don't see you enjoying to put yourself above others, simply because you don't see why you would want to. like i don't think you fully understand this need to argue and cause problems with others, it irks you.
you even might put other people's needs above yours almost naturally, it seems to come very easy to you. (did some of you grow up with a lot of siblings? i feel like there's this natural tendency to supress not only your own desires, but also your own emotions a lot.. i feel like you might've found yourself in plenty of situations where you needed to swallow your pride, bite your tongue, ignore your own emotions or grant others chances you yourself might've wanted.) you might be the type to politely hold the door open for people even though your arm hurts, offer the seat to the elderly even though you yourself are exhausted, allow your friend to grab the opportunity although you might need it just as much.
i do feel like you're quite peace-loving, and don't enjoy arguments at all. you seem excellent at approaching conflicts and problems in, not only this calm and collected manner, but also with this diplomatic and tender sense of understanding towards all parties. do you have any major libra placements? i can sense this beautifully non-judgemental energy in you, where you always seek harmony, no matter what situation you find yourself in. you also just seem balanced in general, and like not much can tick you off. some people might even ask you “how are you always so calm?” although i feel like you can experience feelings quite intensely once they take over you (i feel like you might cry a lot when you're on your own..) you just don't enjoy openly displaying your emotions, and might have problems expressing them outwardly. again, i keep feeling like this likely stems from a deeply rooted place, maybe you've just naturally aquired this mechanism within you, where you shut off your emotions and internalize them a lot.
you might put a lot of thought into how others view you, might dislike the thought of anyone looking at you as overly dramatic. you also seem pretty perfectionistic, especially in closely managing the way you're perceived by people, or the way you treat people. you might often fear doing them wrong, or overstepping any boundaries. i can sense an avoidance of expressing or asserting yourself strongly again here, because you just don't want anyone to feel like you're doing too much. (i know this is a reading that focuses more on positives, but spirit is telling me this selflessness in you makes you immensely beautiful.. maybe you even have a lot of egocentric people around you, therefore your kindness just stands out even more. don't lose that sincere heart you have for others, however; you need to listen to what you yourself want more as well <3 learn to balance these two sides in you out, because if not, others might take advantage of you)
i do think though, that a lot of this calmness might be a result of your maturity. it's interesting because on the one hand you can feel like the young student who still believes they have so much to learn from life, but at the same time, you do have a lot of valuable advice to give to people, just because you might relate to a lot of the things others go through. you seem amazing at putting yourself in someone else's shoes, i can feel people thinking you're a great listener.
i just feel like your unique beauty lies in this gentle, pleasant and mild energy you bring to the table. you'd be the type of person i could tell my deepest darkest secrets to comfortably, and i feel like you wouldn't mutter a word to anybody. like your friends probably can tell you the wildest sht they've done, without any embarrassment. or call you at any given moment, and you'd be there to listen to their angry rants or rages, and just take it all in quietly.
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hotshotsxyz · 2 days ago
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hope for the future (got me on my knees)
(buddie) (s8 spec) (2.4k words) car crash spec <3 title from bastille's hope for the future, which, imo, is one of the eddie songs of all time cw: blood (like. a lot)
Eddie’s not supposed to be here. He’s not—
He’s—
God, he’s not supposed to be here again. He’s not even on shift. But Buck is.
It was a favor. He’s covering for a last minute absence on C shift. So now he’s—
He’s on shift and he’s lying in the middle of the road and he’s not moving. And Eddie. Can’t. Breathe.
“Buck!” someone shouts, and Jesus it sounds like their entire world just crumbled. Eddie’s throat feels raw like—
Oh.
He’s the one screaming.
Buck’s three feet away from him, sluggishly bleeding out on the pavement. Shannon’s six feet under in a graveyard halfway across the city. Buck’s ribs are giving way beneath Eddie’s hands. Buck’s blood is soaking through his jeans. It’s staining him, his skin, his mind.
He—
“Sir!” Someone snaps. “You need to—shit, Diaz?”
No, that’s—it’s not Eddie who’s broken and unmoving on the ground. It’s not Eddie who’s going to die with or without a tube down his throat.
It’s—
It’s—
Two pairs of hands grab him, yank him away.
“No!” Eddie screams, thrashing wildly at whoever it is that thinks they can keep him from Buck.
“Diaz, stop!”
He can’t. He won’t.
“You have to let them help him.”
They won’t do enough. Only Eddie will fight for him hard enough. Only Eddie knows how to bring him back. An animalistic snarl climbs out from his chest.
“I’ve got a pulse!” a paramedic Eddie doesn’t recognize shouts. She’s a floater, probably.
A floater is holding Buck’s life in her hands. Does she even know? Does she know that the world will stop turning if he’s not in it?
Eddie’s knees hit the pavement. Distantly, he feels the sting. Mostly, though, he feels Buck’s blood. It’s on his hands and soaking through his clothes, painting him red, red, red.
Two firefighters carefully roll Buck onto a body board and lift him to the stretcher. For a split second, it’s 2019. Eddie’s watching his wife die. He’s holding Buck’s hand and trying not to stare at his mangled leg.
“Diaz! Now or never, are you coming with us?”
He doesn’t feel himself move, but between one blink and the next he finds himself in the back of an ambulance staring down at his—
His—
Buck’s eyelashes flutter and Eddie can’t do this.
“Please,” he sobs, clutching Buck’s hand. “You—you have to—”
He’s squeezing too hard. So hard he might break Buck’s hand, but he’s terrified that if he lets go, so will Buck.
The floater moves to intubate, but before she can Buck heaves a shuddering breath and opens his eyes.
Eddie thinks he might be screaming again, only this time the sound is trapped deep inside him.
“Eds… hurt?” Buck manages.
He must be. He’s dying maybe, because that’s the only explanation he can think of for the creeping numbness in his limbs.
“He’s fine, Buckley,” the floater says.
She’s wrong. She doesn’t— how could she? She doesn’t know that every piece of Eddie that’s worth anything is dying right alongside his—
“I can’t wait any longer,” she says apologetically before shoving a plastic tube down Buck’s trachea. He chokes on it, and oh, Eddie’s choking too.
The ambulance slows and Eddie’s about to bang against the wall, about to demand they keep going, when the doors are flung open revealing an entire trauma team dressed in pristine scrubs.
The floater rattles off Buck’s vitals and the injuries they know of.
As they pull Buck from the back of the ambulance, one of the doctors catches Eddie’s eye. He nods, and Eddie hopes to God that means he knows that Los Angeles will be swallowed by the sea if this man doesn’t live.
All at once, Buck is gone and Eddie’s left standing next to an ambulance that could be the last place he ever hears Buck speak.
“Diaz, you okay?” The C shift captain whose name Eddie can’t be bothered to remember right now asks.
No.
No.
No.
He doesn’t answer.
There’s blood on his face. Buck’s blood. Eddie doesn’t— he’s not sure how it got there, but now that he sees it, he can feel it too. It’s tacky and drying and God, there’s so much.
Gentle hands turn him away from the mirror.
“No,” Eddie says as his sluggish brain recognizes Bobby. “No, no he can’t—“
Bobby was there when—
He held Eddie. Let him weep into his shoulder. Stood steady as Eddie’s world crumbled to pieces.
“He’s in surgery,” Bobby says.
“They don’t know,” Eddie babbles.
Bobby’s face creases in concern. “Know what, Eddie?”
“He’s— he—“ He can’t force the words out.
“Eddie,” he repeats forcefully.
“I love him,” Eddie croaks.
Bobby, steadfast and solid, cracks.
One sob escapes his chest, then another, and soon they’re both sliding to grimy bathroom floor, trying not to shatter entirely.
“I can’t lose another—“ Bobby gasps.
Eddie squeezes his eyes shut. Bobby can’t lose another child. He can’t lose another spouse. Not now, not when he’s just begun to understand the depth of what he’s been denying himself for what feels like his entire life. Not now, not ever. Not— not, Buck.
The bathroom door bangs open and Hen steps in. Tear tracks stain her cheeks, but Eddie can’t bring himself to analyze her expression further. If Buck’s— Eddie wants to live in a world that hasn’t quite ended as long as he possibly can.
“No update,” she says quietly.
She grabs a few paper towels and wets them in the sink. She kneels in front of Eddie and brings one to his face. He flinches back.
“Eddie?” she asks.
He swallows past the lump in his throat. “What if…”
What if the blood staining his skin is the last piece of Buck he gets to keep? What if he dies on the operating table? What if he’s already dead? Eddie can’t— he won’t let anyone take the last of him away.
A harsh sob drags itself past his lips.
“Oh, Eddie,” Hen whispers, and why do people keep saying his name?
No one— he’s never heard it so many times from anyone but Buck. He doesn’t want to hear it from anyone but Buck. He shakes his head and presses his hands to his ears.
Hen says something else, but all he can hear is the whoosh of his own pulse, and it’s so unfair. Shouldn’t his heart know not to beat until he’s sure Buck’s will again?
“Eddie,” Hen says, taking his hands. “Let me, please.”
He can’t bring himself to agree, but he doesn’t fight back when she raises the paper towel to his face again. She pulls it across his skin in gentle drags, but it’s cold and Eddie can’t help but think uncharitably that Buck would’ve waited for the water to warm before he wet the towels.
When she’s done with his face, Hen guides him to the sink to wash the blood from his hands too. For a split second, Eddie wonders if Buck washed his blood away in this same sink after Eddie was shot. He wonders if Buck’s hands shook the way his are shaking now.
“That’s good Eddie, there you go,” Hen encourages him softly.
He bristles at her careful tone. Nothing she says can make any of this better or worse, not unless she can tell him with absolute certainty whether or not Buck will survive the night.
“I grabbed your duffle from the station,” she continues, and it’s only then that he notices his own bag slung over her shoulder. “Think you can get changed?”
Eddie nods mutely. Distantly, it occurs to him that this is part of what makes Hen such a good paramedic— her ability to meet someone where they are. He peels off his henley and exchanges it for the long sleeve LAFD crewneck she hands him.
He swaps his pants next, and for the first time, wearing a piece of the uniform feels wrong. He couldn’t— he wasn’t a medic today. If it had just been him and Buck out there, Buck would be dead already. He’d, what? Held his torn skin together? As if that was the wound that was going to kill him. Shannon didn’t even bleed when she died.
“Maddie and Chim are waiting for you,” Hen says, nodding toward the door. “I’m going to sit with Cap for a little while, okay?”
Again, Eddie nods. He stumbles through the door and into the arms of a woman who, for all they share, he barely knows.
He can’t bring himself to look her in the eye. She’ll know, he thinks, know that he didn’t do enough. Know that he failed one of the three people she loves most in this world.
“I’m sorry,” he croaks into her hair.
“For what?” she asks shakily.
“I should’ve— I didn’t—“
“You were there,” Maddie says. “You made sure he knows he’s not alone.”
Eddie swallows harshly.
“He knows what he’s fighting for,” Maddie continues. “Thank you.”
He wants to shake her. He should’ve done more. He’d demanded it once of a different team of doctors, and then he couldn’t even—
He was there and it didn’t matter. Buck’s still dying in a sterile operating room.
Maddie pushes him toward a chair next to Chimney in the waiting room, then sits on his other side. They talk to him, Eddie thinks, but he doesn’t hear a word.
“Family of Evan Buckley?”
Eddie’s on his feet before he’s even made a conscious decision to stand. Maddie follows quickly behind him, and— oh, Bobby’s in the waiting room now, too.
The doctor smiles at them, and while Eddie’s sure it’s meant to be reassuring, every second that passes without news is more excruciating than the last.
“Mr. Buckley did well in surgery,” she says.
Eddie’s entire body sags, like a marionette with its strings cut. Hen’s subtle but steadying hand on his back is the only reason he doesn’t collapse to the floor right then and there.
“He’s not out of the woods yet,” the doctor continues, “but his CT was clear and we were able to locate and repair the source of his internal bleeding.”
“He’s going to be okay?” Maddie asks, high and watery.
The doctor nods. “We’d like to keep him a few days for observation, but barring unforeseen complications, we believe he’ll make a full recovery.”
Maddie presses a hand to her mouth and nods, eyes shining.
“The effects of the anesthesia should be wearing off soon, I can take two of you to his room.”
To Eddie’s surprise, Maddie takes his hand. “We’ll—us,” she says.
Eddie looks at Maddie, then Bobby. “Are you—are you sure?”
“Go,” Bobby says. “He needs you.”
Eddie’s not sure that’s true, but he sure as hell needs Buck and he—he thinks this is probably one of those times when he’s allowed to be a little selfish.
“Through these doors,” the doctor says, leading them back with a wave of her key card.
He’s pale, unnaturally so. It’s like, despite the massive transfusion he received, there still isn’t enough blood pumping through his veins. Eddie wishes he could wring out his shirt and return every drop he took.
“Eddie, what happened?” Maddie asks softly.
Eddie shakes his head. “I, uh, I wasn’t supposed to be there,” he says haltingly.
Maddie takes his hand with the one that isn’t holding Buck’s and squeezes.
“I don’t think he knew I was there,” Eddie continues. “It was just… God, Maddie, it was a coincidence.”
Eddie closes his eyes and takes a steadying breath.
“It came out of nowhere. They were responding to a fender bender, wouldn’t have even been a call except one of the drivers was stuck in their car, I think. He was helping someone when it—there was a car. And then he was just—I couldn’t—he—”
Maddie squeezes his hand again. “You know, I—” she hesitates, then nods like she’s made a decision. “I’ve never seen him happy the way he is with you.”
Against Eddie’s will, a pained noise escapes his throat. “I don’t know why,” he admits. He looks down at his feet.
“Sure,” Maddie says, blowing out an amused huff.
“He’s so good. He walks into a room and everything gets brighter. He’s the sun,” Eddie says helplessly.
Maddie’s smile turns impossibly fond. “You love him,” she says. It’s not a question.
A smile of his own spreads unbidden on his lips. “How could I not?”
There’s a sharp intake of breath.
Eddie whips his head around and sees Buck, eyes open, lips parted.
“Eddie,” he breathes.
He should be panicking, maybe. Throat closing, heart racing, but—the singular feeling in his chest is relief.
“Hey, Buck,” Eddie says, incapable of and unwilling to keep the warmth from his voice.
“You—” Buck blinks twice, slow, like he’s trying to keep himself awake.
Eddie lays a hand on his ankle and squeezes. “Rest,” he says. “I’ll stay.”
“Stay… s’nice,” Buck slurs as he slips back into sleep.
“For what it’s worth,” Maddie says after a long moment, “pretty sure he loves you, too.”
Eddie watches the slow rise and fall of Buck’s chest. “Yeah,” he says, biting down on a grin that’s far too wide for the ICU, “I think he might.”
“Could take a second for him to work that out for himself,” Maddie says.
Eddie lets out a soft chuckle. “Oh, I know,” he says. “Gives me time to pick out a ring,” he jokes. Kind of.
Maddie laughs and shakes her head. “Is this your way of asking for my permission to propose?”
“Well I’m not going to ask your parents,” Eddie replies, wrinkling his nose.
Maddie’s eyes twinkle with amusement. “Could you imagine if I said no after all of this?”
“I’d ask him anyway,” Eddie admits.
“Good answer,” Maddie says.
Eddie laughs. “Oh, so that was a test?”
“No,” Maddie replies, shaking her head. “But he deserves someone that chooses him no matter what.”
“I do,” Eddie says with conviction. “I will.”
“Then yes,” Maddie says. “Just—don’t ask him in the hospital.”
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moonstruckme · 3 days ago
Text
Thawing Out
collab with @ellecdc
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | part 12
cw: modern au, chronic pain, alcohol, smoking
poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 3.2k words
Remus is quiet the next day at practice. Or maybe that’s only in your head. After all, it’s not like he can just shout across the ice at you like he used to at home, not with the rink packed with a dozen other figure skaters practicing before their events today and tomorrow. Maybe it’s only easier for you to imagine he feels as confused and conflicted as you do. 
Evidently you’d been wrong about the feelings between Remus and Sirius. Or if you were right, Remus hasn’t taken notice of it himself yet. But perhaps it’s not your place to assume that you know what he wants. As you learned last night, you don’t even know what you want. 
You didn’t realize how badly you’ve been wanting to kiss Remus until he did it for you. Your mind emptied out and your body reacted like it had been waiting for years, desperate to feel him, to learn all of him, with your mouth and your hands and the press of your nose against his cheek. Your skin became more sensitive than it’s ever been under his touch. You’ve never felt more aware of your body than you are on the ice, but Remus ignited something different in you. The softest press of his hand made you want to bend and mold yourself to his liking. 
Ordinarily, you’d be desperate to tell Sirius. He’s your best friend, your partner, he’s known about every crush you’ve had since you were teenagers. But when you woke up this morning, thought about seeing him and divulging every detail from the night before, something odd and unpleasant curdled in your gut. 
You’ve never had the urge to keep secrets from Sirius before. But this, you find, you don’t want him to know. It makes you feel sick even now, going in and out of turns with him while Remus watches you both from outside the boards. Watching your best friend look at you like everything is normal, with all the trust in the world, and knowing that you’re keeping this from him. 
You feel guilty, though you don’t know why. And you don’t know if it’s for kissing Remus or for letting Remus kiss you. All you know is that suddenly whenever Sirius looks at you, you feel like you’re holding his heart in your hands, and you aren’t certain you can be trusted with it. 
“The American is looking at you,” Sirius says as you finish your routine. 
You glance behind you, catching the eyes of another skater before he looks away. Your face heats. 
“He could’ve been looking at you,” you point out. 
“Babe, there are lots of people here looking at me, but just as many with their eyes on you.” Sirius grins, slipping an arm around your waist. “We can feed the rumors that we’re together if you want to keep them from bothering you,” he says in a low voice, eyes drooping in a show of flirtation, “but don’t pretend you’re not the most gorgeous thing here.” 
Remus’ voice echoes in your head. You’re beautiful. Your heartbeat pounds. Sirius is watching you with an easy familiarity, waiting for you to either give him the go ahead or tell him to back off. The feeling of his hand on your back makes something tighten in your core, even as that strange guilt spreads through the same area like a blight. 
You swallow. “Would you be okay to run the death spiral again?” 
Sirius blinks. “Now? It’s a bit crowded for that.” 
“I think we can manage.” You move away from his arm, taking him by the hand instead. Your eyes meet Remus’ as you skate to a clear part of the rink. Maybe it’s still only your imagination, but you think he looks as distraught as you feel. 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Remus feels like a piece of shit. 
He’s known about Sirius’ feelings for you since forever, but you’d looked at Remus like he was still worthy of admiration and apparently that was all it took to bring him to his knees. It felt like the worst possible betrayal of Sirius, who was finally maybe becoming his friend, and then when Remus had tried to reverse course he’d hurt you, too. 
The way you’d looked at him—surprised, wounded, uncertain. Remus had been too panicked to give you the explanation you deserved. He’d left you like that. And though you acted normal at practice today, he can tell he’s left you confused. 
Weeks of building trust with the both of you—at first unconsciously, but lately with more intention and hope—and Remus has managed to ruin it in the course of a night. You and Sirius deserve better. 
Remus wanted to be your friend—if his actions last night were any indication, part of him has wanted to be more than that—but he’ll have to make it up to you by being your coach. If he can’t do anything else, he still can get you through this competition. He’ll leave it up to you to decide if you want anything to do with him after that. 
And part of being your coach, he reasons, is making sure you get enough sleep the night before competition. He doubts you’ll want to see him again, but still Remus knocks on your door to ensure you’re getting ready for bed at a reasonable hour. His heart squeezes when you answer with your toothbrush in your mouth, those sweet pajamas of yours creased and crinkled from the night before. You’re an angel for making it easy on him, your usual smiley self as you assure Remus you’re going straight to bed and wish him a good night before shutting the door. 
Sirius’ room is only next to yours. The lights are out, which Remus takes as a good sign, but when he knocks there’s no answer. He knocks again. 
“Sirius,” he says into the doorframe. “Just say something if you’re going to sleep.” 
He waits for a groan or a resentful grumble, but there’s no sound. He knocks for a while longer. When Remus finally gets out his phone to call his charge, he listens for buzzing in the room, but he doesn’t hear it. 
Sirius picks up on the third ring. 
It takes Remus a while to find him. Sirius’ instructions were vague and convoluted, partly because he was lost himself and partly because of the way his words were slurring. Eventually Remus locates the other boy on the rooftop of a bar, Sirius’ legs dangling out over the street and a cigarette dangling from his mouth. 
Remus has to negotiate with the bar manager for a handful of minutes before he’s shown the frightening metal ladder that goes up to the roof. When he sits down beside Sirius, the first thing he does is pluck the cigarette from between his lips. 
“Oi!” Sirius turns to him. Remus sets a hand on his chest, a perhaps overcautious measure to ensure he doesn’t lean himself right off the roof. “I thought you were cool about that.” 
“Not the night before comp.” Remus steals the cig for himself, looking at Sirius over the glow of the cherry. “Did they just let you up here?” 
It takes Sirius a second to catch onto what he’s asking about. “Yeah. Why?” 
Remus shakes his head, fighting a grin. “You always get whatever you want, don’t you?” 
Sirius' laugh is short and bitter. “Not quite.” 
He turns away from Remus, and Remus’ heart sinks. For a brief, harrowing moment, he thinks, He knows. 
Sirius says to the empty night air, “Why don’t we see how we place tomorrow, and you can tell me then if I always get what I want.” 
“Oh, I see.” Remus takes another drag, relieved. “So you’ve come up here to have a pity party about things that haven’t happened yet. Have I got that right?” 
Sirius pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. Remus snatches it before he can react. The other boy turns around, angry now. “Piss off, Remus.” 
“Wish that I could,” Remus says evenly, stowing the pack in his pocket, “but it’s my job to make sure you perform as well as you can tomorrow. That means working lungs and a clear head.”
Sirius sulks but doesn’t try to grab them back. He only looks out into the black night. 
“Sirius,” says Remus, “if you’re worried about whether you’re going to medal, or what medal you’re going to get, that’s pointless. You can’t control how anyone else performs or how you measure up relative to them. All you can do is give your best to your routine.” 
“Right. Is that how you thought about it as well?” 
“No,” he admits. “But you guys didn’t hire a competitive teenage prick, you hired a coach.” 
Sirius’ mouth kicks up at the corner. “I suppose that is better.” 
“I think so,” Remus agrees. He watches the other boy for a handful of moments, sensing an opening. “You know, when it comes down to it, doing your best might involve doing an actual death spiral.”
Sirius’ expression sours again, but Remus presses on. 
“I know you could do it if you wanted to. You don’t seem to want to, though. I don’t get why. At first I thought you might not trust y/n to keep herself level, but obviously you’d trust her with anything. And she trusts you to keep her there, too, so what’s the issue?” 
For a while, it seems as though Sirius might not reply. The silence is thick and heavy. He continues looking out at nothing, at the stars hidden behind thick clouds, but eventually his lips part on a sigh. 
“She trusts too easily. She shouldn’t be so sure of me.” 
Remus’ brows furrow. Something unexpected about getting to know Sirius has been learning how quickly all his brash confidence can crumble away. It’s almost never when someone else is upset with him; rather, when he’s upset with himself. Remus used to get irritated by the other boy’s bravado, but now he’s just beginning to realize how fragile it truly is. That he never needed to bring Sirius down a peg, because Sirius was almost always already doing it himself. He’s still not quite used to it.
“Let’s get back,” Remus says gently. “It’s cold up here.” 
Sirius doesn’t protest as Remus leads him downstairs, watching carefully as he climbs down the creaky ladder. On the street Sirius nearly walks into a brick wall, and Remus takes his elbow in hand to prevent it. 
“You know,” he says, “y/n was actually just telling me last night that she was worried she was going to let you down.” 
Sirius makes an appalled scoffing sound. “Her? What for?” 
“I don’t know,” Remus half fibs. “But it would probably sound equally ridiculous to her that you’re thinking the same thing about her. And from an outside perspective, it’s always seemed to me like you’re perfectly suited to each other.” 
Sirius makes a low, whiny sound. Remus startles when he pulls out of his grasp. 
“Neither of you get it.” He lists sideways. 
Remus grabs for him, getting an arm securely around Sirius’ waist. He can’t help but think that two weeks ago this sort of behavior from Sirius would have irked him, but now he only feels a bemused sort of tenderness. He doesn’t understand what Sirius is so upset about, but he can tell it’s not nothing. “Explain it,” he coaxes. 
Sirius seems almost relieved to have been pulled back. He lets himself lean into Remus’ side. “I don’t deserve her trust,” he says in a quiet, mumbly voice. “I don’t deserve any of her. I don’t know why good people like her and James and you always find me, but I’m no good at keeping you. I’ll get mean, or selfish, and you’ll see. But I can’t—” His voice thins, and Remus’ grip on him tightens unconsciously. “I can’t risk losing her. I’m going to get her hurt, and she’ll stop trusting me, and I’ll have let her down again. I can’t do it.” 
The pair walks for a while in silence. Remus can feel the shadows of deeper fears swimming underneath the ones Sirius has just divulged to him, but he’s not sure how to respond. Even during Remus’ most spectacular failures of his career, he was at least the only one who got hurt. He was never tied to anyone else, never risked anybody but himself. If he messed up, he suffered the consequences, and that was it. 
Remus holds Sirius against him as he uses his card to enter the Village. The halls are quiet, most athletes and staff having turned in for the night. 
“When I first started working with the two of you,” Remus says lowly, “I didn’t always see why y/n trusted you so much, either. You were a brilliant skater, of course, but you just seemed like such a tosser.” 
That works as intended, getting a puff of laughter out of Sirius. 
“But I knew I had to figure out a way to work with you, and she just seemed to have complete faith in you. So after a while, I just started trusting that she knew what she was doing. She knew you better than I did, of course, so I figured the two of you had an understanding I just couldn’t comprehend. And the longer I worked with you, the more I could see how she was right.
“What I’m trying to say is, it took me a while to trust you, but I came around because I trusted her. You trust her, don’t you?” 
Sirius has been quiet, but at this, he looks up as though in surprise. “Of course, yeah.” 
Remus suppresses a smile. They both fall silent as they pass by your room, eyes catching on the door you’re sleeping behind like there’s a siren’s call coming from within. Remus wonders if it’s for the same reasons. 
After Sirius lets them into his room, Remus continues softly, “So maybe you ought to give it a try. If you can’t trust yourself, trust the faith she has in you. When is she ever wrong?” 
He expects Sirius to smile at that, but he doesn’t seem to be in the mood for joking. His eyes are big and sad as he sits down on his bed, a quiet sort of asking in them. 
“I think she could be wrong about this,” he says in a near whisper. 
Remus’ throat aches with sympathy. He crouches by Sirius’ feet, ignoring the protests of his hip to start taking off the other boy’s shoes. 
“She’s not,” he says. “She’s just smarter than the both of us. You’re loyal, and brave, and kind. She’s always known that, but it took me a while to catch on.”
“I’m not.” Sirius sounds almost desperate. 
Remus doesn’t back down. “You are.” Frustration and tenderness war inside him. He sets his hands on Sirius’ knees, looking him in the eyes. “Why would I lie to you?” 
A look comes over Sirius face, peculiar only in the moment before Remus recognizes it. He’s seen Sirius look that way a thousand times. At you. 
Remus’ heart thumps. 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Remus’ thumb strokes over his thigh, and Sirius’ heart does something abhorrent behind his ribs
“Sirius.” Amber eyes look into his, warm and earnest and unrelenting. “Why would I lie?” 
Sirius began to sober up as soon as Remus called him earlier tonight. He’d started drinking to try and rid himself of that pesky, familiar feeling of derealization that had taken hold, but he’d stopped then. Paid his tab and gone up to the roof, where in the cool air Sirius had the powerful, frightening urge to wait for Remus and tell him everything about himself. Tell him every last terrible thing and see if he flinched. 
Only he hadn’t flinched. He’d taken Sirius home, whatever drunkenness was left lost on the wind during the walk, and taken his shoes off for him, and told him in various words that he was worth something. 
And now Remus is rubbing the sides of his knees. And his hands are gentle and so are his eyes, and his expression says that he believes it, that Sirius is worth something, and Sirus thinks, Fuck it. 
If it goes poorly, he can say tomorrow that he was drunk and doesn’t remember a thing.
Sirius mashes his lips into Remus’. 
A hoarse sound tears from somewhere inside Remus. He pushes against Sirius’ mouth, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt and pressing him backwards onto the bed. The mattress is hard and the frame creaks under their combined weight, Remus’ hand finding Sirius’ throat and wrapping around it like an embrace. 
Sirius flips them over. Remus lets him, reclining back against the pillow propped along the wall and tugging Sirius closer like someone’s going to rip him away. He tastes like chocolate and cigarettes. A low whine rises in Sirius’ throat. 
Remus’ hands loosen their grip. “Wait.” 
“No,” Sirius pleads. 
“Aren’t you….” Remus pants. He pulls their lips apart but doesn’t go far, resting his forehead against Sirius’. “I’m confused. I thought you had feelings for y/n.” 
Sirius sucks in a breath. “You know about that?” 
A quiet, nervous chuckle. “Yeah, love. But you’ve just kissed me, so…I suppose I’m wondering what that means.” 
Sirius’ heart trembles. “I don’t know,” he says. “I don’t know.” 
“It’s alright.” Remus’ voice is a balm. He kisses Sirius once, a soft peck. “What do you feel?” 
Sirius opens his eyes and finds Remus watching him. The other boy’s forehead sits a bit higher than his, so Sirius has to tilt his gaze up, feeling cracked open and wretched. 
“I don’t know,” he says again, softer. “Is it bad to want both?” 
There’s a brief pause. Remus’ brow creases slightly. “I don’t think so,” he replies. “But I have to tell you something.” 
Sirius takes his forehead away from Remus’, putting a couple of inches between them. “Go on, then.” 
“Last night, I kissed y/n.” 
Sirius braces himself to hide a reaction, but there’s nowhere to hide from Remus’ perceptive gaze and after a moment, Sirius finds there’s not much reaction to hide anyway. He doesn’t feel upset. The idea of Remus kissing you is…well, it’s not unlike hearing him call you pet names or watching him touch you. Sirius doesn’t wish that Remus hadn’t done it, only that he’d been there as well. He does sort of wish that he’d gotten to kiss both of you first, though. 
“I stopped it as soon as my head caught up to me,” Remus goes on. He seems to be studying Sirius, though Sirius has no clue what he might find. “I felt really awful for doing it when I knew you had feelings for her, but now that you’ve said that, I think I might have feelings for both of you, too.” 
“Brilliant.” Sirius’ heart is hammering, but he does his best to make his voice sound unaffected. “Then what do we do now?” 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
You stumble out of bed half-awake. You’re not even entirely sure if someone’s knocked on your door or if you’ve dreamed it, but your feet propel you there with urgency nonetheless. You rub your eyes as you open it, mouth stretching with a yawn. 
Sirius and Remus are standing outside, both rumpled but still in their daytime clothes. Their pupils are blown and lips wet and swollen. 
“We were wondering,” says Remus, slightly breathlessly, “if you might have a moment.”
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shadowsong26x · 3 days ago
Text
image description: a page from a book
Wild Geese
You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves. Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. Meanwhile the world goes on. Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain are moving across the landscapes, over the prairies and the deep trees, the mountains and the rivers. Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again. Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself to your imagination, calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting-- over and over announcing your place in the family of things.
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Wild Geese by Mary Oliver
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heesimp · 1 day ago
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SUNGHOON SPITTING IN YOUR MOUTH AND BEING ALL FILTHY ABOUT IT LIKEEEEEEE.
he’s spitting in my mouth as we speak
-
“Open your mouth.”
He pauses on top of you mid-fuck with his cock fully lodged inside of your hole. The bed underneath comes at a standstill, juxtaposed to the rough shaking from Sunghoon pushing and pulling his hips from you.
Sunghoon is typically well put together and orderly. Nothing in his room is ever out of place and everything he does has a purpose. He walks with confidence with his shoulders back and chest out forward, and anybody who’s fortunate enough to know him, sees that.
You’re his little getaway from the real world. You, his precious girlfriend, are the only person who could ever get him to completely unravel.
He’s got your legs spread wide open and you wouldn’t be surprised if your thigh burn well into the following day with how hard Sunghoon has been pushing your body. Your mixed arousal gushes and coats both your inner thighs and his the more he fucks into you and he loves hearing those cute little whimpers when he gets his hands on you.
You can’t say you don’t love it. He compliments your chaos and the only time you’re submissive is when you’re with Sunghoon. The roles switch once the bedroom door is closed and you, a loud-mouthed, opinionated person, is reduced to nothing but a toy who loves being told what to do. You love it and Sunghoon does too.
He commands when he speaks. You do as he says and open your mouth wide, sticking your tongue out until you’re able to present the surface to him so nice and smooth. Sunghoon gathers a wad of spit and aligns his head with your mouth to let it drool right onto your tongue, the warm sensation making you even more aroused than you already are.
“Messy baby.” You keep your mouth open for him instead of swallowing. Sunghoon sticks his tongue tongue out to lap up his spit and pushes his wet muscle roughly against yours and resumes his hips rocking in and out of you.
He kisses you with intense fervor and pushes inside of your mouth, neither of you really caring that spit is falling onto his chin or that the filthy, erotic sounds might echo into your neighbor’s room. It doesn’t matter when he gets like this.
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hiddenlongingsfanfic · 2 days ago
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Just His Luck (Lucky Boys 1)
The viscous liquid drip…drip..dripped off of the tip of a clawed finger.
Landing on the bricks below, it sounded incongruously like rainfall.
The acid green substance defied gravity with its tendrils creeping out and then into the porous surfaces of a badly maintained sewer system. His hands were covered in tight fitting gloves, still glowing white even amongst the filth. They lay lax, palms up, and fingers loosely curled to create a small divot in the center.
It took a long time, and it hurt this waiting.
Slowly, though, his patience began to bear fruit.
In his slightly cupped hand pooled the unnaturally rippling ectoplasm.
Danny laboriously, in fits and starts, managed to bring his hand to his chest and tipped the meager liquid directly into his organs. He whined softly with relief as he felt this new world’s ectoplasm nourish him. He didn’t know what would happen if he had a direct source to guzzle from, though. He couldn’t even really describe the difference that he felt. he just knew that it was present and almost alien.
Although Danny smiled slightly, he supposed at this point, he was the alien life-form.
He grimaced then at the feeling of the restrictive plastic that was still strapped to his face before he was forced back to stoicism when it cut painfully into his skin. It wouldn’t be pretty if he had to try and projectile vomit through the thin metal bars that pierced his skin. He finally heaved a deep breath and gingerly wrapped his arms around his torso, doing his best to avoid any sutures, before he pillowed his head on the sinuous length of his tail. Curled into as tight of a ball as his battered body would concede, Danny finally allowed himself to start crying. Tears streamed down his face, and if he had had the ability, he would have screamed.
Wailed.  
At the loss of everything.
His jaw wouldn’t move, held in place by some sort of wire that wound its way through his gums and bones held in place by the plastic of the muzzle. Whatever Fenton invention they had used on it made it nearly impossible to remove. It refused to phase through walls with him and was strong enough that he couldn’t manage to snap the wire into pieces. 
They had learned their lesson early on with him.
They hadn’t wanted to hear what he had to say anyway. Had only cared about what they could discover next. What they could find as they tore through him with methodical, scientific patience. He was a ghost. Long dead. Why would they waste the supplies on feeding him? They had tried something different.
Something…bad.
This shallow pool was a slow method of collection, but it also gave him time to recover his strength, and it didn’t hurt anyone else. He wasn’t being forced to harm anyone just to survive. He couldn’t remember when the portal had started to fall to pieces around him. Cobbled together as it had been, a mixture of human and animal blood used by his friends in a desperate attempt to free him from the laboratory that he had been imprisoned in.
Danny had appeared amongst the clouds and didn’t have the strength to stay afloat.  Danny’s ghost half was supernaturally hardy, but even he needed time to recuperate after plummeting from that high in the air. He had tried to control his fall, but he had just been so tired. Normally, floating felt more natural to him when he was like this than walking. But his injuries even before he had escaped had left him weak. At least he had managed to avoid skewering himself on the steeple of a church. Had felt something close to horror at the thought of being killed (again? fully?) by the sharp points of a metal cross.
A sudden noise distracted him from his agonized sobs.
Danny growled low in his chest as he heard something splashing through the sewer water. Gross. That water couldn’t be sanitary. Seemed questionable to him. He wanted to disappear away from whatever was making that much of a ruckus. Sure, he could technically still turn himself invisible, but that wouldn’t hide the trail of ectoplasm that he had left in his wake. Better to make himself as scary as possible. At this point he’d probably have trouble fighting off the ghost of a fly, let alone whatever monster was roaming through near pitch black tunnels with apparent ease. He couldn’t bare his teeth anymore, but he let the sonic rumbling coming from his chest turn up a gear. There was another splash, and this time, it was followed by a curse. Someone had just fallen face first into that foul water.
Okay.
That helped the fear a little bit. 
Danny let the growl ebb away with a quizzical chirp. He’d have to be even worse off than he currently was to not recognize that “ Mother Fucker!!” that echoed off the brick walls for a moment.  The tinny sound of some sort of earpiece let him hear the faint sound of the feminine laughter of whoever was on the other line.
“Shut it, O. It’s your fault I’m down here anyways.”
The voice was raspy, but it also didn’t sound completely natural. Some sort of mechanical modulation that gave him the heebie-jeebies. 
“ I told you. Cameras caught something falling out of the sky. I found the furrow that it left.”
In the goddamn cemetery.”
“ Yes, but you saw the same thing I did.”
“Yeah, something dragged itself away from the impact site.” “
Satellites saw whatever fell. They literally survived a fall from low atmosphere space and then had the strength to pull themselves into the sewers.”
The damned muzzle meant that there was no way for Danny to run away from whoever was looking for him. Every other piece of clothing went intangible with no issue; but the Fucking Fenton Wire™ made it literally impossible for him to get his face through anything. Forcing himself through would probably end with him missing a bunch of teeth and a good portion of skin from his face. It might be worth it; Danny had taken enough blows to the head that he knew his teeth grew back eventually. Maybe he’d get lucky and the man would give up after his impromptu dip in sewage.
Has he ever been lucky in his entire life?
The abrupt blast of light as the man held up a small penlight felt like it pierced him solidly through both of his eye sockets.
“Hmmm, I’m seeing some sort of liquid.”
“ Blood?”
“I mean the splatter marks. They match up to what I’d expect to see if someone managed to drag themselves through Gotham city water.” 
“ But?” “
"But this shit is looking a hell of a lot more like  Lazarus Water?”
There was a long buzzy pause that came out of whatever kind of earwigs these two weirdo’s were wearing. Danny forced himself to lay even flatter to the ground. He took in a deep breath and fully stuck himself into the corner. Maybe his ratty old hazmat suit would let him pass as a pile of dirty laundry or a trash bag. It wouldn’t work, but Danny hadn’t had too many great ideas about how to talk to a man without showing off his wired. shut. teeth. He also seemed familiar with ectoplasm. Though it didn’t seem to be a happy association.  His modulated voice had dipped into an even lower register. 
When a hand forcefully landed on Danny’s shoulders, the tips of his gloved fingers caught against the concrete of the floor and threw out sparks as he was dragged backwards by ungentle hands.
“ Wait! Hood, be care…!! ”
Danny had had more than enough of being manhandled in his lifetime (afterlife?) and he didn’t even let the woman on the other side of the microphone finish her warning before he whipped his body around and smacked his clawed fingers across the face of his unknown attacker.  It wasn’t exactly like a hot knife through butter, but Danny could feel the way the tips first caught in the metal of the full face helmet that the man was wearing and a push of ice into those cracks shattered the rest of the man's headgear. In a normal situation (for Danny) this would be the point where the person, ghost, being of unimaginable power, etc, etc would either turn tail and run in the other direction or at least shrink away from whatever had just ripped apart what looked like it had been a very expensive piece of body armor. This time, though, he didn’t even have time to react before being punched straight in the nose.
His head snapped back hard for a moment before he twisted sinuously around and launched himself at whoever had hit him. Only for the much taller man to nimbly spring away from where he had been and leaving Danny crouched in the grotty water that was already up well past his shins. At least his feet had decided to reappear. Small favors and all that.  Danny swung out in a wide arc with his claws bared rather than in a fist and let out a little growl of frustration as he hit nothing but air. The other man was quicker on his feet than Danny was used to and he didn’t want to put his full force behind the blow anyways. 
He’d gotten into plenty of fights with ghosts, in their form of rough and tumble play, and a little less regularly by humans that meant business.
This felt like a combination of the two and that was fucking weird man.
Not to be trusted.
It's time to try and actually fight his way out of this situation since this asshole wouldn’t just leave him alone to sulk in the sewers.
Danny instinctively tried to open his mouth wide both to show off his sharpened fangs as well as to hopefully wail into his attacker's face. Of course, the wire cut that off hard, and he had to pull back with a sharp, frustrated whine as he pawed at his face for a moment. Scrabbling to get that stupid mask off so that he could defend himself.  His claws caught on the edge of the plastic, but it didn’t budge. He only managed to snag a finger through a small loop of the metal before it shocked him hard enough to drop him completely in the water, the muzzle sparking and pulsing in punishment and making it impossible for him to keep on his feet. He could feel the way the water around him electrified and was relieved when the other man had the good sense to jump out of it.
This time when a hand came down to grab him the stranger had at least gone for a limb a little further away from whatever fuckery was happening on his face and he felt now much gentler hands wrap around his ankles.  They gently dragged him up and out of the water, plopping him relatively softly on the cement again before relinquishing his hold and backing up with his hands in the air. Danny flopped onto his belly and pushed himself away as quickly as he could. He ended up on all fours with his forearms flat on the ground so that he could hold his head up away from the ground but not have to try and hold onto his teetering balance.
Electricity flashed through his face and left him seeing stars and smelling burnt flesh.
He was gasping for air.
Air he knew that he didn’t really need anymore, but it still felt so necessary.
Deep inhales and slow exhales to try and calm himself down and to get the equipment on his face to stop fucking zapping him. It took several long seconds before he was able to get the courage together to look over and see what the stranger was doing while he was having an electricity induced panic attack. He hadn’t heard the other man leave but that didn’t mean much when this sort of stuff happened. He couldn’t hear much of anything with the way it felt like electricity jolted through his brain. It brought back not only recent memories of this being used as a punishment but older, harder memories from his deathday.  But no, the stranger hadn’t had the decency to leave. Instead he had just taken a seat across the stream of water from him and was watching him carefully from behind another smaller mask that still hid a good majority of his facial features.
Who wears two masks?
Seriously.
He could see the black hair with a shocking patch of white, turned a little brown gray from the muck of the sewer water. 
The sight made his core hum inquisitively.
That was a very distinctive sort of mark to have. Danny cocked his head a little further and, this time, let himself reach out with tendrils of inquiry from his core to see how the other man reacted.
At first, he didn’t.
React that is.
Didn’t seem to have any sort of idea about what was happening, and then Danny felt the first flutters of a very, very new core as it responded with a stressed chatter of noise. It said don’t hurt me…I’m just a baby…Just a baby . Be calm. Safe. safe. Danny’s eyes blazed green as he reacted to the placating emotions the man was obviously sending his way unintentionally. Even after everything he had gone through, Danny didn’t want to be a bully. Sure his face, hell his entire body, fucking hurt, but he had all but face planted into the other ghosts territory. He hadn’t known where the portal had been going to take him. All he had been able to gather from the abrupt conversation that he had had with Jazz was that it was somewhere the GIW would never find him.
A dimension far far away, where he would be safe.
Alone.
But safe.
He had grabbed onto that with both hands and hadn’t let himself think about what he might be losing. So he had managed to get away from an evil government agency, lose his remaining friends and family permanently, only to land smack dab in the middle of some powerful baby ghosts haunt.
Just his fucking luck . 
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
Jason wasn’t often at a complete loss for words.
He had words to spare.
Profanity laced, but still, available for use at all times. 
When the call had come through from Oracle, he had felt cold dread start to creep down his spine. Some thing had landed in Crime Alley and walked away from the impact. It was late enough that he had been considering turning in for the evening. When he had heard the subtle ping of his earpiece. Jason had almost considered declining the call. Whatever it was that Oracle needed at this time of night wasn’t going to be good. Even the criminals went to bed eventually.
He clenched hard on his motorcycle's handles before he accepted the call with a gruff. “What is it?”
“ We’ve got something or someone that just landed hard in the Gotham cemetery.” “
Why aren’t you sure if it’s a person or an object?”
“ They fell from literal space. Some sort of portal ripped open the sky and dropped something through it. I’d say the only person that would be able to survive that kind of a fall would be Superman.”
“But it’s not him because?”
“ Because Superman is currently working a case with B, and he was the first person I called. Present and accounted for.” “
And you don’t think it’s a random object falling from a portal because?”
“ First. When has it ever just been a random object?”
“Hn.” Jason grunted in agreement.
“ Secondly, it’s not there anymore. Camera’s went a little fuzzy, but somebody pulled themselves out of the impact site and slid through a sewer grate.”
“Hn.” This was not a grunt of agreement. This was a grunt of displeasure. Oracle had worked with enough bats and birds throughout her lifetime to be able to tell the difference immediately. “
Yes. I literally mean through. It looked like liquid, but it moved under its own power.” “
Hn.”
“ Don’t whine. It’s not befitting a crime lord.”
Jason didn’t even bother to respond as he pulled in through the cracked open gates of the cemetery. Better to park his bike here rather than on the street. B would actually never let him hear the end of it if someone tried to steal his tires.
It didn’t take him long to find the impact site.  There were spatters of sinister glowing green liquid, and the sight of it made Jason’s gorge rise. There was no way that was what it looked like. As he circled around the deep divot in the earth, Jason could make out what looked like handprints in the earth.
Whoever had landed here had hit the ground with enough force to dig several inches into the loamy soil before it looked like they had crawled out with clawed fingers digging deep divots into the dirt as it dragged itself towards the slim opening that led into the Gotham sewer system.
“Yeah, there’s no way I’m fitting through that opening.” Jason drawled. “We’ll have to call in one of the Robins. What a shame.”
“ Nice try. There’s a manhole less than 50 feet from where you’re standing.”
Jason let his face drop forward with a dramatic sigh before he strode over to the manhole. With a grunt of effort, he pulled the thick metal up and to the side before he peered down into the darkness. Thankfully, his mask helped him see through the pitch black, and he was able to locate a ladder without trouble.
He curled his lip a little with disgust before dropping down into the muck. The ladder was made out of a sturdy metal, but he could still feel flakes of rust coming off underneath his leather gloves, and his boots slipped a little on some sort of slimy algae. Jason could hear Oracle breathing quietly in his ear, but they had both gone quiet as he had gotten closer to whatever fresh horror had arrived in Gotham city this time. The water was as disgusting as he had feared when he finally hit the floor, but it was still less slippery than trying to walk on the slick sides that slanted inwards to direct the water. Hood’s mask would have had trouble distinguishing the dark stain of normal blood from the filth that coated the surfaces around him but the bright neon of whatever this creature was dripping stood out in stark contrast to everything around it.
It looked toxic.
Malevolent.
His impression of danger only deepened when he felt his chest rumble like he was standing next to a speaker thrumming with bass.  He was so focused on following the small trailing drops that when Jason tripped over some sort of submerged trash he didn’t have the wherewithal to catch himself.
“Mother FUCKER!”.
Thankfully his mask was sealed tightly enough that none of the disgusting water actually got into his mouth or eyes but he knew that as soon as the mask was taken off he was going to be able to smell himself. Hell, regular civilians would be able to smell him coming before they heard his motorcycle. The thrumming noise came to an abrupt halt when he hit the water, and then Oracle's laughter rang out across the line. Jason had to grit his teeth hard to hold back an annoyed snarl.
“Shut it, O. It’s your fault I’m down here anyway.”
“ I told you. Cameras caught something falling out of the sky. I found the furrow that it left.”
“ In the goddamn cemetery.”
“ Yes, but you saw the same thing I did.”
“Yeah, something dragged itself away from the impact site.”
“Satellites saw whatever fell. They literally survived a fall from low atmosphere space and then had the strength to pull themselves into the sewers.” 
“Hn, I’m seeing some sort of liquid.”
“ Blood?”
“I mean the splatter marks I'm seeing. They'd match up to what I’d expect to see if someone managed to drag themselves through Gotham city water.” 
“ But?”
" But this shit is looking a hell of a lot more like Lazarus Water?” 
Jason had been feeling more and more sketched out as he stepped past what felt more and more like he had stepped into an evil Jackson Pollock painting. He could see handprints in the smears of green that looked almost human. But there was something wrong with the edges. Like whatever had made them didn’t have just normal fingertips. Little indentations in the brick marked the spaces where claws had dug in a little too forcefully to be human.
When Hood finally turned a corner in the sewers and found the source of the Lazarus water he barely even paused when he saw the dirty frayed edges of some sort of black rubbery suit and just reached out to drag whatever the hell had been stupid enough to show up right on his fucking doorstep out of the darkness.
“ Wait! Hood, be care…!! ”
The clawed hand that whipped out of the darkness shone off-white even in the darkness of the sewers, but Hood didn’t have time to dodge before they caught hard in the alloy that covered his left cheek.  He felt the fine cracks as they started to form before he was hit with a sudden icy cold that burned ferociously for a moment before he felt his helmet completely shatter. Jason could only see a vague shadow of whatever had just hit him, but it was more than enough, and he aimed a hard punch directly where somebody's nose should be.
If it had a nose.
He felt cartilage snap under his knuckles and smirked when his opponent's head snapped backwards. And continued backwards further than any human spine should be able to bend. It twisted sinuously around and sent another swiping blow in his direction. This time Jason had enough time to dodge the uncanny blow, and he leapt backwards to give himself some space. He heard a low growl of frustration from the man across from him, and Hood’s eyes widened as he caught sight of the other man's face for the first time. The clear plastic of the bite mask was deeply embedded in the skin around the stranger's face. 
No.
Jason’s breath caught.
Not embedded.
Sewn.
The edges were sewn into his skin with what looked like a thin wire. Where the metal bars that would usually be in front of his lips had instead been wound through them. Sealing them completely shut. The young man’s eyes glowed the same neon green as the Lazarus water. Eerily similar to his own eyes when the Pit rage took over; but brighter, almost incandescent.  His hair swirled in violent waves around his head as though taken by an unseen riptide, glowing white in the gloom. His skin was almost as pale as his hair; though the filth of the sewers had spread a disgusting film across his face. Jason could see the tear tracks that had sloughed off the dirt in ghostly pale streaks. 
The rumbling growl that Jason had heard was coming from deep within the man’s slender chest.  He could see the way the man’s jaw clenched hard as he strained to open his mouth against the tortuous contraption that was entrenched in his face.
He hoped, God did Jason hope, that the mask was a new fixture because whatever he had been trying to do, the young man jerked his head sideways and pawed ineffectually at the edges of the plastic. Clawed fingertips caught and held but weren’t able to pull the fucking muzzle off of his face. With a newly frustrated growl, the man changed tactics and looped a finger through the metal x’d through his lips and pulled. Jason couldn’t see where the electric shocks that started to spark across the mask came from. There didn’t seem to be any sort of electronics attached to the mask itself but wherever they had come from the shocks were enough to drop the man where he stood.
He was nearly covered by the sewage that he had fallen into, and Jason had years of training to thank for the fact that he managed to get out of the water before it became dangerously electrified. He scrambled up into the tunnel that the other person had emerged from while he tried to figure out how he was going to help this poor fucker without getting electrocuted for his troubles. After several long seconds Jason finally managed to reach out and snag the, hopefully rubber, tattered ends of the guys pants and dragged him up and out of the water with a grunting heave.
Jason curled himself away from the sparks that were still coming off of the guy.
Jesus.
Were the electronics in the man’s mouth?
It took several heaving breaths, nostrils flaring and chest racked with silent coughs, before the guy managed to get up on his knees and elbows. He rested his forehead on his fisted hands for several long seconds as they both tried to decide how best to handle the situation going forward. Green eyes slid over to him, and Jason felt a completely foreign crash of emotion sweep through him in a wave. The top notes of whatever this being was sending his way were aggressive!mean!GETAWAY! But underneath that was a wave of agonized terror that left him nearly breathless.
Jason held back a snarl of fear when he felt something shift in his chest and respond without his conscious permission. Something that felt a little bit like the Pit but a lot like when he was trying to sooth his siblings after a hard night. Safe…safe here. Jason slowly slid further down the wall and took a deep deep breath to try and calm himself down.
They both lay, covered in filth, as they tried to recover from the sudden cessation of violence and stared into each others eyes. “
So…uh Hood? You okay?”
Jesus, now he’d have to talk to Oracle about everything that had just happened in the space of several silent minutes.
No.
Worse.
He’d have to explain what happened to Da…Batman.
Jason let his head fall back against the dirty brick and groaned aloud.
Just his fucking luck .
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centaurianthropology · 2 days ago
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An addition:
Power of Attorney can, in some places, end at death, leaving your body, money, possessions, and funeral arrangements to your parents or others on the ‘next of kin’ hierarchy.
If you want your partner to be in charge of your funeral and to get your estate, get a Living Will or a Last Will and Testament. Discuss these with a lawyer to figure out how best to lock in your partner’s rights to your body, your estate, and your funeral after you die.
Generally, the best advice is to find a sympathetic and preferably older lawyer who might have been doing this for queer couples before same-sex marriage was legalized. It’s time to get in touch with your queer elders, if you have them in your community, and ask about good lawyers, good resources, etc.
If anything good can come from these times, let it be the resurrection of on-the-ground in-person community. Our worlds are about to shrink badly. All we may have are the people we surround ourselves with, both here and IRL, and both will be important.
Before January 2025:
If you are a USAmerican in a relationship that might be affected by legislation that dissolves same-sex marriages, who may no longer be recognized as next-of-kin, especially if you have children, get your rights in writing!
Your marriage certificate may not be enough to prove you have rights to make medical decisions for non-biological children or for a same-sex spouse or partner.
Go to a lawyer, get it spelled out as clearly as possible that you have a voice in emergency medical and legal situations.
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ashwhowrites · 7 hours ago
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Criminal love
I had this idea and have been working on it since August... and it's finally here! I hope you can take the time to give it a read. And if you do, I hope you like it 🤞🏻I'm really proud of this one and if you could give it some love, it would mean the world❤️
Criminal Eddie Munson x Hopper Daughter reader- Y/N visits her dad all the time at work, usually to deliver donuts but a certain prisoner catches her eye...and she seems to catch his
⚠️smutttttty
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Y/N never got in trouble, with her dad being the sheriff of Hawkins, she had eyes on her constantly. Jim was a good dad but very overprotective. He had strict rules and sheltered both his daughters from the world, especially boys.
Y/N never got to have a boyfriend, boys were not allowed into the house until El and Mike got together. Y/N was jealous that El got to have a relationship before she did, it was unfair.
Y/N carried a box of donuts as she walked into the police station, smiling at all of her dad's coworkers as she made her way to his office. She knocked on the door and let herself in, shocked to see a boy cuffed to the table.
"Sorry!" She said, closing the door behind her
"It's alright. Come on it, I'm starving," Jim groaned
She opened the door and walked in, she kept her focus on her dad as she placed the box on his desk. She felt the boy's eyes burning into her and she fought with everything in her to not look.
"Sherif Hopper, Byers is here to see you," the front desk lady said before she walked back out. Jim sighed and took a big bite out of his donut.
"I'll be right back, don't do anything stupid," he spoke with a mouthful and Y/N cringed when pieces of food fell down his uniform. She went to follow behind her dad as he walked out the door but a deep voice came from behind her.
"You mind handing me one of those?"
She turned around, and her eyes met the stranger. He looked young, around her age, with dark eyes and dark long hair. He was extremely attractive.
"Uh sure," she said, a little uneasy as she reached for a chocolate frosted donut. She grabbed a napkin and placed it in front of him. His right hand was cuffed to the table, and his left was free to pick up the donut. She silently watched as he bit the donut, groaning in bliss at the taste.
"Delicious, thank you, gorgeous." He said with a wink, smirking as he took another bite.
She felt her face burn and looked away. His dark eyes felt like he was lighting her on fire. She coughed and turned around, reaching for the door.
"What's your name, baby?" He asked. She ignored the way her body jolted from the nickname and the way it made her throb in between her legs.
"Um, Y/N. Yours?" She asked, turning back around.
Looking at him again, she could have sworn he was the most beautiful yet sexiest guy she had ever seen. But he obviously was trouble and she shouldn't get involved.
"Eddie"
"Alright, see ya later, kid," Jim said as he came back into the room, softly pushing her out.
Y/N rested her head against the door as she caught her breath.
~~~
Y/N secretly hoped that wouldn't be the last time she saw Eddie, and it wasn't.
Every once and awhile he'd be in that chair, cuffed to the side with a big smile on his face when he looked at her. She blushed at the way he'd wink when her dad wasn't looking as she walked out.
The more she saw him, the more she got excited to bring her dad those damn donuts. She might have been a little guilty of fixing her hair and adding light touches of makeup. And extra guilty for wearing clothes to catch his attention.
He took the bait, no shame when he'd check her out. She could feel his eyes burning into her as she talked to her dad. She loved the way he licked his lips and gave her a nod before she left. It was a silent conversation with just their eyes, and she hoped her dad couldn't sense the sexual tension they created.
After a few too many strikes, Eddie got thrown behind the bars. Y/N dropped off the donuts, a little bummed Eddie wasn't in the chair. But she didn't want to sound suspicious so she didn't say anything. Just walked back out. But then she swore she could hear his voice down the hall. She looked over her shoulder before she snuck down the hallway. She ignored the prisoners behind the bars, searching for the familiar boy. He wasn't talking anymore so she wasn't sure how close she was to finding him.
Until he found her
"Pretty girl coming to see me?"
She smiled without realizing, turning her head to the right and there he was. She purred at how attractive he looked in an orange jumpsuit, his tattoos on display and his arms hanging out of the bars.
"Guilty. Hopper had enough of you in his office?" She teased, walking up to his cell.
"Seems that way. I was bummed I wouldn't be seeing ya anymore. Glad you got curious," he flirted with a smirk.
"That would be a shame. Especially after I just bought this skirt," she flirted, twirling slowly as her short skirt flowed under her thighs.
Eddie couldn't help but growl as he watched her skin become more exposed. He barely knew anything about her but he'd do anything for her.
"It's a shame there's bars in the middle of us, because I'd love to see how it looked bunched up in my hands," he said, flexing out his hands. She shivered when his skin softly brushed hers.
She never felt this way before. She never felt so sexually frustrated, and wanted a boy she barely knew. She was usually good. But God she wanted to do so many bad things with him and to him.
She looked over her shoulder to make sure the hallway was clear.
"One second!" She said
Eddie watched as she walked fast down the hallway, she was gone for a few seconds but came back.
She had a folded piece of paper in her hand. She walked in front of him and placed it in his hand.
"When you get out, come find me. First window on the right." She said with a wink.
~~~
Eddie did just as he was told. The second he was out, he was racing to the address on the piece of paper. He looked for her window, stepping up on his tiptoes to peek inside. There she was, sitting on her bed as she flipped through a magazine.
Eddie gave a slight knock on the window. She jumped at the sound and her head snapped to look at the window. A smile on her face when she realized who it was.
She got off the bed and closed her door, locking it before she walked over to the window. She slid it open and allowed him to jump up and climb in.
"Cute PJs," he said, smirking as he sent her a wink. She blushed as she looked down, realizing she was in baby pink shorts and a matching tank top.
"Thanks," she said shyly. She sucked in her breath when he stepped closer, his right hand came down to land on her hip. His thumb rubbed the skin that showed under her tank top. She shivered at the feeling of his touch on her skin.
"Is there a reason you wanted me here?" he whispered, he turned his head as he slowly leaned in. She watched as his eyes looked down at her lips, and she couldn't help but look at his in return.
"Don't be all shy now, pretty little thing," he taunted, a playful smirk on his face. "You wanted a little taste of danger, huh?"
"Yes" she admitted, she moved her head closer to his, looking down at his lips again. He took that as a green light and closed the gap between them. She moaned as his warm lips planted on hers, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back.
She wasn't sure what she was doing. Letting a random boy, who has trouble with the law, in her bedroom and making out with him.
His rough hands felt soft against her skin, raising goosebumps all over her body. With their tongues tied together, they moved to her bed. His back was against the mattress as she sat on his lap. She couldn't help but feel proud as she felt his cock against her thigh.
She moaned into his mouth as his hands ran up her thighs, moving to cup her ass. He squeezed the skin in his hands, loving the martial of her small shorts against his skin. Her sounds were angelic and her voice was sweet.
Her kiss was innocent and slow, making Eddie crave more and more.
Eddie moaned when her hands slid under his shirt slowly moving further down...down a little more...and-
"Why is this door locked?"
Y/N and Eddie jumped apart as the doorknob rattled. Y/N quickly slid off Eddie and began to panic.
"One second!" She squeaked
"Uh oh, is that Sherrif Hopper?" Eddie teased a sexy smirk that Y/N wanted to feel against the inside of her thighs.
"Out the window, now!" Y/N whispered, pushing his body off her bed
"Y/N, I am giving you three seconds to open this goddamn door!"
"Daddy is getting mad," Eddie continued to tease, slowly getting off the bed
"Eddie, please just go!" She whispered as she walked towards her door.
The door flew open and Y/N froze in fear. She didn't want to turn around. Hopper's eyes scanned the room then landed on her.
"Talking to yourself in here?" He asked, looking behind the door.
Y/N turned around and breathed a sigh of relief when she didn't see Eddie.
"Yeah! Just running through a presentation for class."
"Well, you know not to lock doors at bedtime"
"I'm sorry, it won't happen again," Y/N said, Hopper nodded then walked back out. She softly closed the door and sighed in relief.
She went to her window and locked it when she noticed a small piece of paper on the ledge. A smile on her face as it was Eddie's phone number written in his messy handwriting.
~~~
The next night her dad was working the late shift and El was already in her room sleeping. Y/N waited all day to call Eddie but knew it had to be when her dad wasn't home.
Once she heard his car pull off, she raced into her bedroom, locking the door, and grabbing the phone next to her bed.
She typed in the number that was written on the paper and held her breath as it began to ring. She eyed her alarm clock, it was pretty late. What if he wasn't even awake? Oh God, what if she wakes him up! Before she could panic and hang up, the line was answered.
"Eddie Munson, who's this?"
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She wasn't even in person with him and he had her so nervous.
"It's uh Y/N, I thought I should give the number you left a call," she said
Eddie smiled as he could hear the nervousness in her voice.
"I'm glad you called, I was scared you didn't get it," he chuckled
"Yeah, I wanted to call sooner but had to wait for Dad to leave for work," Y/N nervously laughed
"Oh, sneaking phone calls for me now? I'm starting to feel special," he teased. He could picture her face burning and biting her lip
She adjusted herself on her bed as she chewed on her bottom lip
"If you get to feel special, I think I deserve to feel special too, don't you think?"
"Oh baby, I could spend hours making you feel very damn special," the way he said special made her believe he was alluding to something else. She bit back a whine as she tried not to seem flustered. "You wearing those cute pj's again?"
"Uh no," she said quietly, looking down at herself
"Then what are you wearing?"
Her breath got caught in the back of her throat. She let out a small cough as she felt like she was choking. She shivered as his dark laugh filled her ear, he was laughing at her and it turned her on.
"You go first," she said, trying to buy herself time as her brain felt like it was melting.
"A towel and nothing else,"
Y/N couldn't bite back her whine this time, the sound escaping her. She was guilty of picturing it in her head and clenched her thighs. "I'm in my underwear and a T-shirt," Y/N finally got the confidence to say. Eddie let out a deep moan and Y/N felt her stomach twist.
"I can picture how amazing you look right now. Those legs are on display, nice and smooth. And from your whines I'm assuming you are a little turned on. Are your legs pressed together?"
She froze, it was like he was in the room with her. Her body was heating up and she was quick to unclench her legs.
"I bet your pussy is aching right now isn't it?"
He could hear her breathing getting heavier and he smirked. "It's okay, I'm aching right now for you too. I wish I was there to ease the ache. Rub that clit and make you shake."
Her brain shut off when she heard a low moan leave his mouth. Then the moans continued and she could hear his breathing pick up.
"I wish you were here too," she moaned. What's the point in acting like she didn't want him to ruin her. She didn't care if he could guess her every move, all she could focus on was how badly her body needed him.
"Yeah? If I was there, what would you want me to do?" He asked, he reached into his nightstand and grabbed his lotion. He yanked off his towel and laid on his bed.
"To kiss me"
He chuckled at her innocent answer, "I'd love to kiss you. Such a shame your dad interrupted us last time. I can't get the feeling of your hands on my chest and stomach out of my head."
"Do you wish I was touching you right now?" She asked
"I wish you were milking my cock right now," he answered. She let out a small moan as she slipped her hand into her underwear. She slowly circled her clit, praying it would relieve some ache.
"I wish I was balls deep inside your pretty pussy. Bruising your skin as I fuck you against the mattress. I wanna hear every sound you make, the sounds leaving your mouth and the sounds of your wet pussy sucking me in,"
She felt her eyes roll in the back of her head as her fingers sped up. Her breathing picked up as she bucked her hips.
"Are you touching yourself?" His accusing tone made her freeze. Almost like she got caught doing something she wasn't supposed to.
"Yes," she whispered, her fingers frozen on her clit. She could feel it throbbing against her fingers as she held her breath for his next words.
"Good girl. Gonna make yourself cum listening to my voice?" He added lotion to his hand and began to pump himself. "Because I'm more than happy to make you cum."
"Fuck, Eddie" she whined, with his permission she began to circle her clit again.
"That's it, baby. Fuck yourself for me. Imagine my cock sliding in and out of you, stretching you open with my fat cock. Think you could take all of me?" He moaned, moving his hand up and down his long and thick cock
"Yes, give me all of it, please," she whined, she pushed the phone against her ear with her shoulder and sunk her fingers inside of her, keeping her other fingers busy on her clit.
"Such a good girl using those manners. I bet a pretty innocent thing like you likes it rough. I'm so fucking hard for you, gorgeous. Thinking about watching your sweet pussy taking me inch by inch."
She moaned as her fingers sped up, biting her lip as her wetness echoed throughout her room. "I wish I could feel how hard you were. In my hand, in my mouth and inside of me. Wanna feel you cum inside of me and mark me."
Eddie shivered at her dirty words, his eyes clenched shut as he pumped himself faster. "Keep talking like that I'm going to explode," he chuckled, "I remember seeing you for the first time, I wanted to bend you right over that desk and make you scream."
"Yeah?" she moaned out.
"My cock was throbbing for you, just like it is right now," his voice got deeper and more breathless. She closed her eyes as she pictured him fisting his cock, she wondered what his naked body looked like. How many tattoos covered his skin? Did he have any moles or freckles? How long and thick was he? Would he fit like ease inside her or would she be forced to her limits?
Y/N moaned louder as she felt her stomach tightening. "I'm so close."
"Cum for me, pretty girl. Soak your fingers and those pretty panties for me."
Eddie fucked his hand as he heard her fall apart. The sounds of her choked moans were quick to make his orgasm approach. He bit his lip and bucked his hips as he imagined filling her up with his cum as she orgasmed over the line.
She yanked her fingers out of her to slam her hand over her mouth to silence her cries as she came.
"That's it. Work yourself through it nicely and gentle. Did so good for me. Such a good girl," he praised as his cum spilled over his hand and stomach.
They both took a second to catch their breath, the phone silent. Y/N felt her face burn once she realized what she had just done. She felt nervous, as she wasn't sure what to expect next.
"What are you doing tomorrow night?" He asked, grabbing his towel to clean himself off.
"Saturday night so nothing," Y/N giggled, "what's up?"
"Perfect, I'll be at your place at ten. Leave that window unlocked for me, gorgeous."
And then the line went dead.
~
Y/N wasn't sure what to expect but she wanted to be prepared for everything. She was in the shower for over an hour, making sure every inch of her was smooth.
"Alright, I'm going to work, and El is at Max's. Please don't make a mess," her dad yelled through the door. She yelled back and waited until the door slammed shut.
She walked out of the bathroom, a robe covering her naked body. She locked the front door and turned off all the lights. She headed into her room and opened her window a crack. The clock read 9:30, and excitement filled her stomach.
She cleaned up the small mess in her room. Then she sprayed perfume all over her skin, fluffed her hair, and dug in her drawers for her best underwear. She couldn't help but clench her thighs knowing her underwear might not be on for long.
She quickly changed and put the robe back over herself. She dug around in her nightstand for a condom, making sure it was on top so she didn't have to look for it later.
By the time she finished everything, she heard a soft knock. She walked over to the window, a nervous smile on her face as she opened the window fully.
Eddie slipped through her window with ease. Closing it behind him. She chewed at her bottom lip as he closed her curtains, the action made butterflies appear in her stomach. She held her breath as he turned to her with a devilish smirk.
"Hi, Eddie," she said, already breathless. He walked up to her, his right hand cupped her cheek and his left hand landed on her hip. He didn't say anything, just slipped his warm tongue inside her awaiting mouth.
The kiss was hot and heavy. She played with his tongue as she sank her hands into his curls. He moaned as she tugged his hair, his chest rumbling against hers. Their lips stayed locked as he walked her backward to her bed. She gasped as she fell on her mattress, their lips disconnecting.
She took the time to catch her breath, looking up at him as he looked down at her. She shivered under his stare, how dark his eyes were. He reached down and undid her robe, she let the robe fall down her arms. Eddie groaned as he looked at her, his hand palmed himself over his sweats as he licked his lips. Somehow his brown eyes turned even darker as he took in her half-naked body. He looked at her like he wanted to devour her, and god she wanted him to.
She sat up to get rid of the robe, throwing it at his chest. He laughed as it hit him, but then the laugh turned into a growl when she slipped off her underwear and tossed it. He easily caught it in his hands, letting the robe hit the floor. His eyes took in the image of her bare pussy in front of him, immediately dropping to his knees. It was silent as his eyes locked on her cunt, watching as her wetness oozed out of her. He tucked her underwear in his pocket, licking his lips as he never tore his eyes away.
"Please do something," she whined. He looked up at her, her eyes desperate and pleading. That was all he needed to snap into action. She yelped as he harshly grabbed her ankles and yanked her to the edge of the bed.
He placed her legs over his shoulders, then hooked his arms under her thighs. She shivered as his hot breath fanned her cunt. He softly blew air on her clit, watching her pussy pulse in response. He rubbed two fingers up and down her cunt, his skin collecting her wetness. He looked up at her as he pushed the two fingers inside of her. She moaned out instantly, shivering under his stare. She felt so turned on as he kept his focus on her face like he needed to see her reaction to everything.
He pushed his fingers in and out of her, curling them with every thrust. Eddie felt his cock twitch in his pants as she moaned out. The smell of her arousal was taking over him, and the feeling of her wetness coating his fingers as they moved inside of her. He was captivated by her like there was a spell cast over him to make him crave her. She cried out as he slid in a third finger, knuckle deep as his cold rings pressed against her. Eddie got an idea, his free hand softly rubbing her thigh. The soft touch distracted her for a split second, then she felt her cunt clenching around something cold.
He was fingering her so deeply that his rings were inside her. She clawed at the sheets as she rocked her hips against him. He leaned in, placing a soft kiss on her clit. As he continued to fuck her with his fingers, he latched his lips on her clit and sucked on it lightly.
She locked her ankles around his head as his teeth scraped against her sensitive bud. Her body shook uncontrollably, her hands moving into his hair. He let out a soft moan when she accidentally tugged his curls, the vibration nearly sending her over the edge.
"Jesus fu-fuck, Eddie," she cried out.
He bucked his hips hearing his name spill out as a moan, he removed his hand from her thigh needing to give himself some relief. He moved his hand inside his pants, softly rubbing himself. He flicked his tongue over her clit, sending her over the edge. Her nails dug into his skull as she clenched her thighs around his head. He moved his hand off of himself and moved it to hold her hip. She lost all control, soaking his fingers as she came, her hips rocking against him. He had nowhere to go, her ankles locked around his head and his fingers sucked in by her cunt. He fucked her through the orgasm, moving his fingers as fast as he could. He couldn't help but buck his hips against the air, his cock leaking with need.
He slid his fingers out of her, sucking them clean. He moaned at the taste of her. He knew he'd crave to taste her every day of his life. He couldn't help himself as he pushed his tongue inside of her, lapping up her juices causing her to yelp at the overstimulation.
He rose to his feet as he watched her body handle the aftermath of the orgasm.
"Eddie?" She whined
"Yes?"
"Get naked already," she smiled, her face fucked out and her hair sweaty. Eddie felt his insides burn at the lust in her eyes.
"Yes, ma'am," she took the time to catch her breath as she watched him begin to strip. His hands gripped the end of his shirt, pulling it effortlessly over his head. She couldn't keep back the purr that left her throat, finally seeing his naked skin.
"You do have more tattoos," she breathlessly laughed. He smiled at the comment, a foreign feeling of a blush coating his cheeks, his heartwarming.
"You thought about it?" He asked, his hands pulling down his pants. His tight boxers left nothing to the imagination. She could see the outline of his long and thick cock being suffocated by the thin material.
She used all the energy she had to sit up, moving to her knees. She gave him a small hum as an answer, her fingers dipped into the waistband of his boxers. She loved the way his stomach clenched as her fingers teased him.
"You drive me crazy, sheriff's daughter," he panted, his large hand moving into her hair. Yanking her head up, she gasped at the pain but could feel herself getting wet between her thighs.
She kept her eyes on him as she pulled down his boxers. He stepped out of them, kicking it to the side. She felt her heart race as her eyes ranked down his body, finally seeing his cock. She whimpered as she took it in, he was thick, full of veins, and throbbing. His tip was leaking, pre cum dripping down to his balls. She moved closer, opening her mouth as she licked the trail of precum up to his pink tip.
His stomach moved rapidly as he breathed. His eyes locked on her as she looked up at him through her lashes. He used his free hand to guide his cock into her mouth, showing no patience as he pushed himself fully inside. She gagged as he hit the back of her throat, her eyes immediately watering. She puffed air out of her nose, trying to keep her throat open as he guided himself in and out.
"That's it, suck my cock. Just like that," he moaned, now with both hands on her head. She bobbed herself up and down, her spit going everywhere down her chin. She wrapped her hand around the amount she couldn't fit, jerking him off as she focused on sucking his tip.
He roughly shoved her off, biting down on his lip as he tried to fight back his orgasm. "Shit, sorry baby. Just need to come inside you," he apologized.
She giggled and moved back to lay down on her bed. "The condom is in the drawer, big boy," she smirked. He gulped as she spread open her legs, her dripping cunt on display as she waited. He moved in a flash, crawling on the bed and grabbing the condom. He tore it open with his teeth, slipping the rubber on.
He teased his tip against her clit and in between her lips. "Are you ready? We can stop if you need to."
"Fuck me, Eddie," she demanded. He leaned down and smashed his lips on hers, swallowing her moans as he guided himself inside of her. He pushed himself in slowly, giving her time to adjust. She released his lips as she threw back her head, a loud moan leaving her mouth.
He peppered kisses to her cheeks and neck, trying his best to hold himself back.
She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, she gave him a nod before she pressed her lips against his. His tongue played with hers as he snapped his hips against hers, his cock easily sliding in and out with how wet her cunt was.
He shivered at how perfect she felt around him. How tight she was, and the way she locked his body against hers.
Their moans mixed together when they pulled away for air. They shared the same breath of air, passing it back and forth as their lustful eyes stared into each other.
His hips began to move faster, her nails digging into his shoulders as she tried to match his pace.
"Fuck you feel even better than I thought," he grunted against her ear. His lips left sloppy kisses on her neck as his orgasm began to build again. He knew he'd never get the same amount of pleasure from his hand compared to her.
He moved his right hand down the middle of their bodies, easily finding her puffy clit. She moaned into his skin as she clenched around his cock.
"Do that again," he begged, snapping his hips harder against her. She obeyed, clenching herself around him. His touch on her clit moved faster as his thrusts got sloppy and out of rhythm.
"Cum for me, Eddie. Fill me up," she encouraged. Her words muffled against his shoulder. He moaned into her neck, but he refused to finish until she did.
He used everything he had in him to hold back his orgasm as he drilled her into the mattress.
"EDDIE!" she screamed, her skin covered in sweat as she gripped his sweaty skin. Her second orgasm washed over her, soaking them both.
He clenched his eyes shut and his head fell against her neck as he puffed through his mouth. He rubbed her through her orgasm, waiting until she finished before he removed his fingers away from her clit.
Her body melted against the mattress as he used her body to reach his high. He gripped both her hips with his hands, locking her in place as he gave his last few thrusts. His teeth sank down against her neck as he emptied himself inside the condom. He wished he was painting her walls with his cum, but that would come later.
He stilled inside her as he caught his breath. Their sweaty bodies stuck together as he fell against her. He slowly pulled himself out, discarding the condom, tying the top, and tossing it to the floor. He rolled over, wrapping his arm under her head. She cuddled into his side, her fingers lazily running back and forth on his chest. She felt herself drifting away to sleep and the feeling of a kiss being planted on her forehead.
~
She jolted awake when she heard the front door close. Her room was dark and she was alone in bed. She looked at the clock, nearly five am, her dad must have finished work. She was quick to pretend to be sleeping when her door cracked open. She waited until she heard his bedroom door close, then flipped on her lamp.
Eddie was nowhere to be seen, and his clothes were gone. She knew he couldn't stay the night because of her dad but she was sad that he was gone. She slipped out of bed to cover her naked skin. As she got dressed she noticed something taped on her window. She walked over and ripped it off.
"Don't think this was a one-time thing- call me whenever you want me, baby ;)
-E.M."
She couldn't help but blush at the note. Her heart swelled at knowing she was going to see him again.
~~~
It's been a week since the unforgettable night in her room. She called Eddie whenever her dad wasn't home, and they talked for hours until she had to go. She tried to ignore how badly she craved to feel him between her legs again. To feel his lips on hers and let his hands roam over her body.
One night her call went unanswered. She tried not to be too disappointed but she was. She waited an hour and called again, but never got an answer. Then the next night she received no call back. At first, she was pissed. She thought he was ignoring her and she didn't react kindly to that. But then she got to thinking about where she met Eddie in the first place, jail.
~
The next morning she dressed to impress, but conservative enough where her father wouldn't scold her in front of everyone. She wasn't sure how long Eddie would be locked up this time so she stuffed her pockets with little gifts.
With a delighted smile on her face, she placed the box of donuts on her dad's desk.
"Thank ya, honey," he said as he shoved half the donut in his mouth. She rolled her eyes at his lack of manners but kissed his cheek as she left his office. Instead of heading towards the exit, she walked down the hallway. She was glad at times her dad was the sheriff because no one batted their eyes when she was in the station.
"Eddie?" She whispered, "You in here?" She crept down the hall, ignoring the looks of the other prisoners behind the bars.
"Baby?"
She smiled as she heard his voice, picking up her pace as she followed the sound. There he was, arms hanging out of the bars.
"Fuck, baby. I've missed you," he whispered, she walked up to his cell and softly touched his hands.
"I missed you too. I haven't heard from you in a few days and thought I might find you here," she laughed. He was back in the orange jumpsuit. And now that she knows what he looks like underneath it, she wishes she could tear it off.
She leaned in and kissed his lips, getting as close as the bars allowed.
He smiled as they pulled away. "I'm glad you came to see me."
"Do you know how long you are here?" She asked
"I don't know, sweets. Your dad takes his sweet time when it comes to me," Eddie said as he rolled his eyes.
"What did you do this time?" She asked. His thumb softly rubbed her hand, his touch sent shivers down her spine.
"Don't worry about it, gorgeous"
She knew she should have cared more about why he was constantly behind bars, but she didn't care. And she doesn't think she ever will.
"You know the more you get on his bad side, he's never going to let us be together," she warned.
He softly chuckled, a dark look taking over his eyes. "You think I'm going to let anyone stop me?"
The simple sentence made her thighs clench. The look of possessiveness in his eyes, like she was his and he'd be damned if someone tried to change that.
"Love when you dress all pretty for me," he smiled. He softly whistled as he stepped back, keeping his hands laced with hers, checking her out.
"I also brought you a little something," she whispered. He lifted his eyebrows in question. "In case you are in here a bit too long," Eddie watched as she let go of his hands and dug in her pocket, a lacy material in her hands.
She felt her cheeks burning as she handed him the pair of lace. He smirked as he felt the material in his hands. She held her breath as he lifted the lace to his face, inhaling her scent. Her breath was stuck in her throat when he let out a small growl. She kept her eyes locked on him as she dug in her other pocket, taking out the small Polaroid she had taken before she arrived. She felt a little shy as she handed it over.
"Fuck, what a pretty sight," he praised as he looked at the photo. Her naked body was on display for him, he wished her skin was still covered in his marks.
"Be on your best behavior so you can come see me, yeah?" She whispered. His eyes snapped up to look at her.
"Oh, I'm going to kiss these cop's asses so I can feel you wrapped around me again, pretty thing," his filthy words sent a tingle straight down to her cunt. She nodded and pressed her lips against his, one last kiss before she left.
~
And he kept his word. A few days later he was back at her window, the same criminal smile on his face.
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@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt @ineedmentalhelp123
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curtins · 16 hours ago
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GREEDY — gojo satoru minors dni
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prologue. → pretty, prodigal, and teasing. how far can you push your former teacher before he snaps? gojo's about this 🤏 close from releasing a hollow purple on the world.
pairing. gojo satoru x afab!reader
warnings+. màstúrbation (m.) and rough sèx, creaḿpie. some angst/doubt. angsty love confession before gojo póunds reader into the mattress. incorrect use of reversed curse technique. arguments and stuff. description of injuries. def mean!gojo a bit and he's got vampire tendencies.
reader is of legal age (implied to be 19-20) and gojo is 28 so age gap!romance. obsessed!gojo and popular girl!reader trope. gojo is absolutely a mess in this, and reader is described as wearing short skirts, and wearing makeup.
rather questionable ethics and dynamics (teacher/former student) but rest assured its clear that his feelings are pretty recent. reader has him twirled and whipped around her fingers. reader is also def a baddie and ambiguously bi.
word count. 8.7k words im mad actually. this was meant to be headcanons song inspiration. greedy — tate mcrae
a/n. this is was gonna be from reader's pov but i thought it would be more fun from gojo's 🙂‍↔️
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mp3. i see you eyeing me down, but you'll never know much past my name. or how i'm running this room, but i'm still half your age. yeah, you're looking at me like i'm some sweet escape 😛
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gojo satoru was not a weak man, no. he knew that he was an anomaly of nature, an unstoppable power that could reduce enemies to dust and make entire clans crumble with nothing more than a flick of his wrists.
so how was it, that when it came to you, his resolve was paper-thin?
every time your open gaze met his, every time you brushed past him, every time your presence filled the space around his infinity, gojo felt something inside him unravel. his breath would be caught in his chest, leaving his pulse to quicken and suddenly, all that strength and control would slip through his fingers.
gojo cursed himself for this, you see. he had never been one to lose control, but he was not quite sure when his entire body has started to betray him.
but no, fuck that, and he did his utter best to run his focus back onto the lesson at hand. unfortunately, the lesson at hand was with you. standing in front of him, arms slightly raised, palms out, and raising your brow as boredom passed over your face.
gojo cleared his throat, "your stance is good, but your cursed energy is all over the place. focus, breathe. centre yourself is what i'm saying," he instructed, but the words felt hollow as they passed through his lips.
unfairly, you're weren't the problem. he was. and now this was getting ridiculous. you had graduated not two, three years past? it would have been a disservice to still call you his student, but even as a mentee, you were still under his tutelage. and as recent as this immature infatuation was, this felt wrong.
but now you were frowning, starting to waver and the sharp, staccato tap of your heeled boot punctuated the wooden floor, click, click!
gojo looked to the sky, briefly, if to pray for patience and a calm of some sorts. he stepped forwards towards you, placing a hand on your waist to guide you into a better stance, and trying to ignore the way your skin felt warm underneath his fingers.
focus.
"don't let your body twist like that when you utilise your own cursed energy. keep it straight, balanced," he muttered, adjusting your posture slightly, hand on your spine — the heel of his palm pressing into a dent. a deity from the sky must have struck him with a cursed arrow, for his whole body was on fire.
because there you were, standing right in front of him, so close that gojo could feel the soft heat of your breath, the faint scent of a sweet perfume wafting off your skin, vanilla?
"you're not focused," gojo grimaced, though he wasn't sure if the rebuke was at himself, or at you — whose eyes widened briefly, and gojo tried not to recognise the curiosity and challenge that flashed across your face.
look at how she's staring at me. and gojo felt utterly ridiculous, and exposed, she knows. but instead of pulling away, you shifted ever so slightly towards him, your body arching as the barest brush of your breasts against his forearm had heat pulling through his body.
would you taste as sweet as you smelt? would you lean more into him if he asked?
he cleared his throat, "okay. relax, not every stance or position works for an individual. perhaps, you'll be able to focus better like this," and with his hand still on your waist, he pulled you into a swift spin. one that left your back pressed against the hard planes of the chest, and you facing the other wall.
you hummed, this time not in the way he wanted. your lips were lightly parted, and there was that soft sheen of gloss catching the light, making your lips look impossibly soft. gojo caught himself staring, wandering what it would be like to press his own mouth to yours, and whether you would squeal or moan.
still, if there was anything that gojo was good at, it was deflecting like a champ, "i think you're distracted," he laughed, low and amused, "is something making you lose focus?"
you tilted your head, and gojo didn't miss (nor did his heart or groin) that your gaze flickered to his mouth for the briefest second before meeting his eyes again, feigning innocence, "don't tell me you're underestimating me, sensei. because i'd hate to think you can't keep up?"
gojo bit back a grin at the obvious bait, "careful," brushing strands of white hair that had fallen into his face away, "if you get too cocky, you tend to miss danger. you start to ignore things that should be noticed."
your voice dropped to a droll whisper, eyes glinting, "you think i don't notice things? i'm aware of plenty."
gojo forced himself to focus, to ignore the way that your lashes flutter with unshakable composure. trying to regain control, or some semblance of mind, he started counting each individual lash painted dark with mascara, lingering on the outermost curls that framed your sharp eyes.
after a beat, he forced himself to break eye contact, "alright," he said, stepping back with a casual shrug that he hoped conveyed just how nonchalant he was, "we’ll call it a day here and continue training tomorrow."
"backing out already?" you teased, leaning in just a little, making him tense at the closeness.
gojo chuckled, feigning nonchalance. "for your sake. you may be powerful, but you have to pace yourself."
you shrugged, nodding, "i'm going out anyway this evening," you said, hopping back a step before bending down to gather your things. gojo politely averted his gaze, his heart hammering from your previous proximity, and desperately hoping to avoid a...reaction, that would be quite inconvenient, as wide and loose as his martial pants were. like a fuckin' school boy with a crush. gross.
but as you slung your pastel bag over your shoulder and straightened up, he couldn't help a quick glance, catching the small, coy glimmer in your eyes as you turned to leave.
gojo sighed, pulling up his blindfold once more, "have fun," he half-heartedly offered, but you were already out the door.
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the corridors were now empty, the clang of metal and chatter now silent, replaced with a quiet hum of the air conditioning. gojo wiped his face with the towel wrapped around his neck, the damp fabric clinging to his skin and the muscles in his arms and chest still warm from the intensity of training. his arms and chest glistened, the muscles warm and taut as he stretched, rolling his shoulders back with a low groan. exhaustion settled into him like a weight, each movement of his tired, bare torso slow and deliberate.
"oh, you're still here, sensei?"
gojo's eyes snapped open, drawn to the sound of your inquisitive voice. you stood in the doorway, framed by the dim light from the hallway, and he immediately felt a rush of heat flood his chest.
well, fuck, now his mouth was dry. clearly, your previous iteration of 'going out' was a bit more glamorous than you had led on, and he was certain his wandering eyes betrayed him as it flickered over your figure. it took a titan's strength to keep his eyes from trailing down your long legs, the way your dress hugged the swell of your chest, or over your glistening neck. there was a faint shimmer, a glitter of some sort? it coated your skin, and gojo wanted to lick it off with his tongue.
what? no. who said that?
he swallowed hard, forcing himself to keep his composure.
you scowled at his reaction, clearly mistaking his silence for distaste. "what? i did say i was going somewhere," you retorted, your tone sharp but amused. "i’m more than allowed to leave the campus grounds.”
"of course,” he replied, voice outstandingly steady but his mind still trailing after every curve, every detail that made you look...well...dangerous in the best way, "don't let me stop you. who's the lucky guy?"
you arched a brow, folding your arms over your chest, and now, gojo really did have to look away and pretend that he was busy with retying a dark piece of cloth over his eyes, "who said it was a guy?"
gojo thickly swallowed, wondering if he'd just made a colossal blunder with no return, "that's not what i meant." the words 'my bad' stuck in his throat as you laughed and sighed.
"joking, sorry. it's a guy, this time." now you were fiddling with your long nails, with a satisfying clack as they ran across each other.
"i hope he shows you a great time then," he offered, half-hearted, blasé.
you took a step into the room, and gojo didn't even need six eyes to know that your eyes were raking over his chest, "i'm sure he will," all sweetness and sugar, "i've been training so hard, i deserve it, don't i?"
the words hit him harder than he expected, and he had to remind himself — she's not yours, satoru. but that didn't stop the gruff irritation bubbling up.
"a real man should be taking you out on a date like this,” he said, his voice a bit too rough for his liking. "not some guy who’s probably just looking for a good time."
you scoffed lightly, rolling your eyes. "are you saying that there's someone else out there who can do a better job?" your tone was playful, but there was a challenge in it — an edge that made his heart skip once more, "sadly, there just aren't many who've handled me well."
he ignored your immature, faux pout, and ran a hand through damp, icy hair — ignoring how his temper flared, rearing its ugly head.
was this all on purpose? to toy with him?
"you want to be handled, sweetheart?" gojo's voice dropped a little lower, indulging your teasing, "i've seen you lose focus easily, you could easily break."
your lips creased up, painted a tempting shade of dried-blood red (what the fuck was wrong with him? was he now just a horny vampire?) as you purred, "i'd need some help testing out that theory." your expression was open just enough for him to see the tiniest flicker of something in your eyes — something that told him you were enjoying this far more than you should.
an invitation of sorts, he wondered. did you want him to move? to make a move? it wasn’t a secret that you had always been a popular student practically a legend, rumours swirling around you like wildfire — whispers of broken hearts and sweetened smiles that could captivate anyone in your path. he had never paid attention of course, gossip always ran wild among students and he discouraged such whispers of who-did-what, for a grade 1 curse would never indulge such behaviour before they would get torn to shreds.
and even now, long after graduation as you worked around your old alma mater, men and women — everyone swooned at the chance to speak with you, and yet, here you were, playing this dangerous game with him.
gojo scowled, trying to push past the desire building inside him, the urge to have you underneath him, right on this mat in the training room. "well, don’t hang around too long," he said, his tone sharp as a blade. "i’m sure your date is waiting. go have a good time."
invitation declined. the morally right thing to do. right?
he didn’t need to look to see the small sneer that curled at the corner of your lips, or the way it turned into a fleeting expression of annoyance. he could hear the click of your heels echo down the hallway as you sashayed out.
what the everlasting fuck was wrong with him?
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lo and behold, the great gojo satoru often found himself alone in his own private rooms. for 'the strongest' rarely had time to accommodate some other forms of company.
and frankly, he had no desire to do so now regardless. not when the echoes of your clicking heels still reverberated in his mind. the silence that echoed around him was heavy, suffocating and he was sure he looked erratic.
gojo ran a hand over his face, trying to shake the thought of you. but it was useless. his body was still on fire, the heat of jealousy smouldering in his chest, coiling in his gut like something alive, something dangerous. he had walked to the nearest chair and collapsed into it, his legs splayed wide apart as his shoulders slumped under the soft, amber glow of the setting sun that streamed through the windows. the sorcerer let his head fall back against the chair, eyes closed.
how absolutely ridiculous, he thought, running his fingers through his tousled hair. no, he just couldn't stop it. couldn't stop thinking about how badly he wanted you. wanted you to want him too. and now, with the way you’d left, with that knowing smile on your lips, all he could imagine was the man you were with now, the man who’d be holding the door open for you, who’d be pulling out your chair, whoever the hell he was.
maybe even a casual, non-sorcerer. some random guy that you had indulged because he was no threat. but he wouldn't be able to touch you, not in the way that you demanded. the man would laugh at your jokes, brush his hand against yours, but wouldn't be able to let a real smile bubble from your lips like satoru could.
and what would that man do next?
would he try to take you back to his place? some small poorly-lit apartment where he'd try to kiss you, to claim your lips without even pulling away for air. would you kiss him back, curling into his frame?
before gojo's even registered what he's doing, his own hand has found his hard cock. despite the tattle of assistance, and dreamy-eyed mongers, pleasure is rare for him. relief, even less so. his schedule just doesn't allow it, and so he oft find himself chasing some distant contentment like this, alone in his rooms.
but he squeezes at the wide hilt, at his base, pulling his hands up, upwards as his brows furrow under blindfold, and he tugs the offending fabric off, away from him, as laden balls smack against his wrist.
maybe the man would then trail his lips down your neck, maybe he'd try to slowly sink his teeth into delicate flesh, leaving blooming purple marks that wouldn't fade, not when gojo saw you tomorrow.
he's running his curled hand up towards the fat mushroom tip, almost glowing pink with heat and pre-cum that's leaving his hand slicked with faint moisture, "shit, that's it."
then what? he can imagine your teasing smile as you decide to take your pleasure as you see fit. how you'd suddenly push this faceless man off, and move so you're straddling him, letting his hands wander around the curve of your hips, digging into plush flesh.
now he's starting to pant, open-mouthed, "ah - fuck! wish i had you here, right here." gojo must be a madman, breathing out to the empty, open air.
but in his mind's eye, you're reaching behind your back to undo the zipper on your outstandingly tight dress, giving the faceless man a coy smile as you push the fabric of your dress down, letting your plentiful tits spill out and against the man's chest.
his wrist is moving faster now, and there's a cramp starting to build up as he pistons his hand over his stretched shaft, and one arm is thrown over his face — the soft hairs on his thick forearm tickling his face as he tries not to gasp or whine too loudly, but he's bucking his ups now, pretending that it's not his hand that he's spilling into, but your tight cunt. and later, he shudders and tenses up, with apologies whispered into the air, "look, look - shit, i'm sorry - i'm sorry. couldn't help it, fuck." and gojo's bitten his lips so hard that he's certain he's drawn blood, vibrant red blooming on pale, creamy skin.
and a lamp had exploded as he came. damn, he'd have to replace that.
you don't deserve someone like him, no. not when he's sitting here, absolutely filthy with thick, white seed entirely over his tense abdominal muscles and stiff hand. not when he's trying to catch his breath after imagining how snug your pussy would feel around him, and how you'd beg for him to give it to you harder.
you didn't deserve someone so messed up with guilt, with mistakes, with the kind of weight that made him too much for anyone, let alone someone like you. didn't you deserve better than a tortured man who couldn't control himself, better than an overzealous mentor who was supposed to keep his distance, to do what was right.
but that didn’t stop his thoughts from swirling, as he separated damp, thick thighs from the smooth surface of the chair, reaching for a tissue. he couldn’t help it. and it made him feel like a damn fool.
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the meeting room buzzed with tension, voices rising in sharp, clipped exchanges — some angry, some demanding and others clueless and questioning. gojo had woken up in a foul mood that morning, with some ill-gotten storm brewing beneath his chest. perhaps it was the thoughts of you that lingered from the night before, a gnawing jealously that left him feeling too tight in the stiffness of the uniform dress pants.
but he had forced himself to be dragged through this meeting, plastering a snarky light-hearted grin over his face as he leaned against the wall, letting the higher-ups argue themselves into oblivion.
amidst the storm of words, gojo's focus was nowhere near the mission being discussed. no, his attention was fixated entirely on you. you stood at the far end of the table, eyes flashing with ire as you tore into some pompous old fool who’d dared question your power. the others in the room shifted uncomfortably, deferring to you, as they often did, despite your youth. you had that rare combination of presence and bite that made people recoil back when you sunk your teeth into them, and this was not a knot gojo was interested in unraveling.
kojiro, one of the bumbling administrators, had turned his babbling attention to gojo, "you're still planning to face that curse head-on, gojo-san?" the poor man is wringing his hands at gojo's flat look (made all the more unreadable through a blindfold, satoru would wager), "don't you think it would be well - unwise? instead of expending your time and energy on one cursed spirit, you could handle five lesser ones. efficiency, you see."
gojo's gaze briefly flickers back to you, standing with your arms crossed as one hand fiddles with the end of your braid as your petal-pink lips scowl at some other official with words that don't fit his stature. your other hands keeps reaching around your neck, adjusting a plaid scarf over and over, like you're desparate to hide something under the fabric . well, fuck that.
"i'm aware of the risks," gojo turns his attention back to the matter, "but no one here has time for hesitation. if the curse is special grade, don't you at least think that delaying with lead to more destruction?"
"is it really the cursed spirit you’re worried about, takumi-san?" you asked, your voice low, the kind of voice that could make someone forget their own name.
gojo's gaze snapped to you from under the blindfold, but you weren’t looking at him, not even speaking at him. instead, you were locking eyes with one of the other sorcerers — takumi, a grade two with a shaggy mop of golden hair, one who had been a student alongside you and hardly subtle in his admiration for you.
gojo tries to hide a scoff at how takumi's eyes are wandering over you, ignoring the newpapers that have been flattened on the meeting table, with bold inked letters reading doom-portents such as 'unexplained explosion, 4 dead and 12 injured."
time and place, man.
"you don't think i can handle this mission. if you're worried about me, just say so," takumi's now leaning into you, even as gojo tries to train his ear on kojiro's economic-obsessed babble instead.
gojo can see your eyes flicker to the dastardly newspapers as well, clearly curling your lips at the dour news and takami's disastrous attempt at getting his hands under your skirt. but he also knows that sharp glint in your eyes, the one when you toy with those around you, to pull them in without ever committing to anything. clearly, you've decided to indulge this game.
"takumi," and you draw out the younger man's name, "shouldn't you bring more strength to the table? of course, i'm worried about a friend getting hurt. but even if you were stronger, or the strongest, a special grade curse could do some real damage."
and your eyes have flicked right towards gojo, raking over his frame leaning against the pale cream walls. he's glad for the blindfold, so you can't see how he scowls and furrows his thin brows at you, at your blatant hopes for a reaction from him. were you so unobservant that you did not know how much you bothered him?
the pointed sharpness in your words made takumi pause, and for just a moment, gojo could see the man’s grin falter. it was clear that you weren’t impressed by his attention, you had no need for his slimy attempts.
there was no mistake about it — this wasn’t just a flirtation. this was a game you played, and gojo was not only aware of it; he was caught in it. he tries not to feel irrationally angry, fuck, so much of his life revolves around his work, his job and now he can't even do that properly without feeling like you're using your long nails to dangle something in front of him, wanting to snap his teeth out and snatch it.
so you wanted him to see this. you wanted to claim that you could unravel the strongest sorcerer from the heavens to the earth below, to make him lose his composure. gojo feels as if there is crackling ozone in the air, and wonders dimly if the weather forecast predicted a rain storm for later today.
takumi, sensing the shift, finally backed off with a huff, but not before giving all around him a lingering look, as if it was their fault that you weren't interested.
"enough distractions," kojiro's interjected, raking a finger through a beard streaked with gray, and he's shooting a pointed look at you, snapping rose-pink gum, and takumi, shuffling with his hands in his pockets. "we're here to discuss the mission, not flirt." and then, he's off mumbling something about how this was why he hated having younger sorcerers join the meeting rooms.
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his ire only grew. gojo stood with his back against the wall, outside the meeting room, once everyone had left with his arms crossed tightly over his chest. you stood in front of him, your eyes flashing with anger, your chest rising and falling with each sharp breath.
"absolutely not," gojo stood his ground firmly, "no-one will let you go on this mission."
you stomped on the floor, once as your heels snapped an echo, "they will if you say so."
gojo stuffs his hands in his pockets, "who said that i would also allow you?"
you scoffed, folding your arms across your chest, mimicking his previous stance but with a clear defiance in your posture. "and why the hell not? i'm more than capable of handling it. it's my fucking choice, and how can extra help hurt?"
"enough!" gojo snapped, feeling a tense pain in between his eyes, "it's too dangerous. and you're too young -"
"too young!" you've interrupted him, "i'm not some helpless child, sensei. i'm a grade 1 sorcerer! one of the best, i don't need to be treated like i can't handle a mission."
"grade 1. not special-grade."
his eyes narrowed, his jaw tight. gojo could see the fury in your eyes, but there was something else there, something deeper, a vulnerability that he had seen before in students, some desire to prove themselves and be heaped with praise. he knew you were good, better than most — hell, better than many of the adults he’d seen. but this cursed spirit was unlike anything you’d faced before. and yet, here you were, challenging him, pushing him, daring him to stop you.
"you don’t get it," he muttered, the words slipping from his mouth before he could stop them. "you think you’re invincible, but you’re not. you're too reckless."
"reckless!" now you had taken a step towards him, narrowing the space between you both. your eyes were fierce now, but there was something else in them — a spark of hurt that made his chest tighten, and gojo began to wander where this would start spiral. "i’m not reckless. i know exactly what i’m doing. the only reckless thing here is you thinking you have the right to control my every move."
"i'm the one in charge here," he said, his voice hoarse, the words coming out sharper than he intended. "and i'm telling you now, you’re not going. you’re not ready for this. don't involve the higher-ups in this."
you were so close now, just inches apart. his eyes flicked to your lips, with the arch of a blooming flower kissed by the sun, for a brief moment, and then back up to your face, where anger and frustration mixed with something else — a challenge.
"maybe that’s the problem," you said, your voice quieter now, but still holding an edge. "you think i'm still some child who needs you to tell me what to do. maybe you just don’t want me to outshine you."
the words are ridiculous, and he can see by the mild quiver as your throat bobs that you don't mean what you say. it takes a rare type of courage to tell the first person in four hundred years to be born with limitless and six eyes, that he could be outshined. but satoru doesn't say a word to rebuke your obvious and false bait.
your body is so close now that gojo could feel the heat of your skin, your breath brushing against his. he could smell the faint sweetness of vanilla again in the air mingled with fresh, crisp apples, could see the subtle shine of your lip gloss catching the light. it was a testament to his spirit, he thinks, that he did not lean in straight away and touch his mouth to yours in this scenario that certainly did not warrant it.
"you want me to stop you that badly?" he hissed, his voice a mix of frustration and something darker, that had not yet snapped. "is that what this is? a game? a way for you to get my attention? to see how far you can push me before i do snap?"
now he's got your tongue, and your expression has flickered for a brief moment before schooling into an impassive mask, and gojo briefly wanders if he's crossed an awful line and misinterpreted everything. if they're gonna stick a white dunce hat on his head and parade him through the streets of outer tokyo for being an assuming fool.
but then you've stepped even closer, your breath coming faster, the weight of your chest almost pressed against his, and gojo doesn't move and he's briefly aware that he's let his infinity down.
"partly, you know it's not just about you though. i do want to go on this mission, but -" you tilt your head and look right up at him, and the older man's head starts to reel from the fact that he was right all along, "i do want to see how far you can go before you snap."
his heart pounded, and for a moment, everything went still. all the tension, all the heat, the anger, and the desire — everything seemed to converge in the space between you. gojo's hand twitched, aching to touch you, but he held himself back, his muscles straining with the effort.
"stop,” he rasped, barely able to get the word out. "you don’t know what you’re doing, or what you're asking for."
he's never felt quite like this before, breathless as if the air has been punched out of his lungs. all gojo could think was how much he wanted to pull you closer, to kiss you until there was nothing left between you.
but he couldn’t.
he puts his hands on your shoulders, fingers digging into the expensive fabric of your top, and gently pushes you away.
"my decision is final. don't make this harder than this, you're forbidden from the mission."
how sick and twisted, that you've fled with embarrassed tears pricking at your eyes, and he's stuck with a raging erection.
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well, he had seen worse. but it didn't make this curse any less vicious. it was ancient, he could presume, and maddening. its cursed energy was warping the night air like a violent storm. but again, not the worst thing that he had encountered in his twenty-eight years, and with the right timing, he'd been able to calculate every strike and counter.
but then he saw you.
at first, he thought it was a blur — a trick of the light. but then, there you were, standing at the edge of the pavement, your figure framed by the chaotic crackle of cursed energy. fuck your stubborn nature.
this is not what is meant to happen. gojo's heart has skipped a beat, and he's not sure what he's more furious with. you, for defying his concern for your safety. or himself, for getting so distracted in. a battle.
"what the fuck is wrong with you?"
yes, he knows you're good. good enough to move with precision against a special-grade curse, your stance instantly and suspiciously better than the other day in the training rooms. it's only through his six eyes that gojo has been able to keep a track of your movements as your jujutsu is able to dodge the creature's brutal force.
impressive. but reckless.
and that never lasts.
you had moved to cast your own cursed technique, but the curse was intelligent enough to anticipate it. with a sudden lash of its tail, the creature swung its power straight at you, knocking you off balance. you stumbled, your footing lost, and before you could react, a flash of dark energy slicing across your shoulder.
a scream had torn from your lips as you fell to the ground, blood spurting from the deep cut.
and briefly, just for a flicker of time, gojo sees a dark-haired man in violet robes leaning against a brick wall, with his shoulder torn off, 'at least curse me one last time.'
blood rushing in his ears, before he even realised it, he was on top of you, his body hovering over yours, his jujutsu flaring as he shoved the cursed spirit back with a brutal force that made the earth tremble, an exorcism that will not take long. he kneeled beside you, his breath ragged, eyes locked on the wound on your shoulder. the blood was already soaking your clothes, darkening the fabric as you winced, your breath shallow and unsteady.
"you —” gojo isn't sure if his hand isn't shaking from how irate he is, "what the hell were you thinking? fuck, don't move."
your eyes were unfocused for a moment, but when they snapped to him, there was defiance there — even in this moment (get a grip!), as you gritted your teeth against the pain.
"save it, it's fine," you spat, your voice weak but vexed, "that bitch is still there."
"what did i tell you! what did i say would happen?" he cursed under his breath, focusing his reversed cursed technique as he tried to heal you, but the moment felt like an eternity as bright red blood moved too fast for him to seize it.
an assassin's blade in his throat, his arteries giving way and bubbling out and up.
now you don't answer, your eyes fluttering closed for a brief second. gojo's gaze darted to the cursed spirit, which was now advancing again, enraged by the interruption.
it won’t touch you again.
he stood, pulling you away from him, your body slumping slightly out of his arms. he could feel the heat of your blood soaking through his sleeve, but he had no time to dwell on it. the curse roared in fury, and gojo's infinity flared up around him again, a shield of pure energy blocking its path.
"stay down,” he growled, and all he received was a weak, "fuck, you think that's funny?"
it's only later when he's pulling you back up, that he realises that his reversed cursed energy has done enough to stem the bleeding, but not enough to leave you unharmed as your breath is shallow, your face taking on a more sickly pallor.
"don’t you ever — ever —do that again," he snarled, his voice raw and he wonders when something (or someone) has ever undone him so much. but the anger in his voice doesn't carry to his touch as he gently cupped your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek, tracing the lines of your jaw.
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the sterile walls of your room did nothing to soften the tension in gojo's chest as he stood by your bed, his eyes tracing the curve of your sullen form beneath the sheets. your shoulder was bandaged, with red seeping slowly through the white strips.
"you really are unbelievable," he snapped, his voice sharp as he paced around the room, every step heavy with frustration. "i told you it was too dangerous. i told you not to fucking go."
you lay there, your eyes half-closed, as though you weren’t even listening, but the twitching frown on your lips is sign enough that you're not as sorry. his fingers flexed at his sides, itching to do something — anything — to release the tension building in him.
"are you even listening to me?" he know he sounds bitter, over-reactionary, angry as he moved towards the edge of your bed.
you blinked slowly, your gaze still infuriatingly calm, "i'm fine, now. save the lecture."
he doesn't want to start sputtering so he settles for crossing his arms over his chest, but your voice breaks the silence again.
"you know i want to be a special grade sorcerer, right?"
gojo only looks down, not wanting to indulge an excuse and he studies the tight grip of his knuckles on his slender fingers, "well, i don't know why. the pay isn't that good." it's a weak attempt at a joke, but you're smiling.
"i was told i could only become one if i was the one to exorcise that special grade."
"by who? the higher-ups?" and you nod, wincing as you do.
what a fucking surprise. the way that the jujutsu world works is no surprise to gojo by now, having been surrounded by it his entire life. but the harshness of their reality still shocks him, old and doddering officials who cling to their silk robes are prone to sending out younger sorcerers (those who are still green, barely out of school) to do their dirty work for them, and the cemetery outside of jujutsu tech is ever growing.
he ground his teeth together, his chest tightening as he stared down at you. the bandages, the damp skin, the stillness of your body — it made him want to tear something apart. "fine! if they were giving you a hard time, why didn't you just come to me then?" he repeated harshly.
"would you go ask someone to help you, for something like this? if you were asked to prove yourself?"
gojo runs his tongue behind his teeth, "i'm the strongest, princess. i don't need to ask for help."
you groan, turning your head away from him, but a faint smile dances upon your lips.
he inhales sharply, his fingers digging into the edge of the bed. "you think this is a joke?"
"all four limbs are attached and i'm living and breathing. okay, so fine. my bad. i won't do it again. will you stop snapping at me now, at everything -" and gojo wonders if there's really some hurt colouring your voice, "what's going on?"
the words slip out, rough and unrestrained. "what’s going on is that you’re driving me insane. you act like this doesn’t matter, like i can just stand by and let you throw yourself into danger like it’s nothing — like you don’t matter — but you do. you do matter."
his chest was heaving now, his hands shaking as he reached out and grabbed your wrist. his thumb brushed over your pulse, the tiny fluttering beneath your skin driving him wild. "i can’t — i can’t just stand there and watch you get hurt," he continued, his voice hoarse. "you don’t get to do whatever you want without consequences, damn it. you don’t get to make me feel this way, and then pretend like it doesn’t matter."
for a moment, there was silence. gojo's pulse was hammering in his ears, his body coiled with the intensity of everything he was trying to say. everything he was trying not to say. everything he wanted to act upon.
and then, with a slow, almost lazy smile, you turned towards him, "i didn't know the great gojo satoru was like this. who would have thought?"
his breath hitched in his throat. gojo wanted to say something, to snap at you again, to maintain that distance — but the truth was that the distance between the two of you had disappeared these past few weeks. his chest tightened, his hands trembling as they slid to your face, fingers tracing the line of your jaw, and he relished how your facade almost cracked and you lightly shivered.
at least, he hoped you were shivering because of his touch. and not, like, a fever building up from your injuries.
fuck it.
and then, before he could stop himself, gojo was leaning down, his lips crashing into yours with all the force he could muster, desparate and hungry and that frustration and fear that he had been holding onto. his hand cupped the back of your neck, pulling you towards him with a force that made your breath catch, as you responded with a soft gasp.
had he misstepped? no, for you kissed him back, tentatively at first, as if you were testing the waters, but then building up to a sudden urgency that mirrored his own. your hands slid to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you pushed yourself closer to him, before crying out.
"ah! fuck, my shoulder."
small beads of blood surfaced where your collarbone met your shoulder, each one glistening like tiny rubies against your warm skin. they gathered slowly, delicate droplets that clung to you before tracing faint, uneven lines downward. the red stood out, vivid and fresh, dotting your skin in a stark, almost mesmorising gojo as they welled up and began to trick in thin, crimson trails.
"stay still," gojo rasped, his voice low and rough as he leaned in, pressing closer. his mouth met the fresh blood pooling on your skin, tongue tracing over the small rivulets that had seeped from beneath the bandage.
he lingered, almost savouring the taste, his eyes darkening as the sharp tang of iron lingered on his tongue, smacking his lips slightly as he drew back, gaze fixed intently on you, on your heavy breathing as he stole away another kiss from you.
gojo's lips left yours briefly, his breath ragged as he stared down at you, his eyes wild underneath the blindfold, gasping as your nails reached up to hook the fabric down so his hair loosened, falling around his face.
you were staring back at him, breathless and wide-eyed, and in that moment, gojo knew — he couldn’t stay away from you. no matter how much he tried.
your lips were soft, so soft, but there was fire behind the way you kissed him back, your hands landing on his chest, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt. he groaned, deep in his throat, and his fingers threaded into your hair, pulling you closer.
his mouth moved urgently over yours as he shifted to stand beside the bed, his body hovering over you, every muscle tense, straining with the desire that he had tried so hard to ignore. gojo just couldn't think about anything else.
and your lips broke apart only briefly, and you let out a soft laugh, that damn, dangerous laugh of yours. "you're greedy, you know that."
his chest heaved, and his heart pounded in his ears, and blood was now pounding to his nether regions. he wasn’t sure if it was the previous anger or the ache between his ribs, but he couldn’t stop himself as he threaded his fingers through your soft hair, "i am greedy. greedy for you. only you - mmph! shit!"
you had run your long, painted nails (with the little painted charms on the end) down his neck before pressing them, hard enough to cause a sharp sting.
"you wanted to put me through hell," he whispered harshly, and his lips brushed against your ear as he spoke, "until i realised i liked it. until i realised i wanted you, all of you."
his hands moved down to your waist, squeezing gently as his lips found the tender spot beneath your ear, trailing kisses there, letting his teeth sink in, to see small bruises appear. gojo's breath was ragged as he fought to keep control, and something deeper inside of him roared with the need to claim you completely.
"you’re mine," he growled against your skin, the words hot and possessive. "i don't care what happens. you’re mine now."
you tilted your head, still smiling, but this time there was something different in your eyes — something that burned with the same intensity. "if i'm yours, what are you going to do about it? hmm, satoru?"
and that final thread, that last remnant of honour that he had been nurturing and holding onto, snapped.
"is this what you want, princess?" he draws out the nickname, letting it roll off his tongue, as you suddenly inhale sharply. his hands are all over you now, large hands exploring and kneading at your torso, and before he can even let you blink, they're under your top.
he's pressing his hot mouth to your sternum, wet and open-mouthed, and he wonders what sort of effect you have on him. what force in the world leave him panting like this, desparate as his hands find their way behind your back, to unclip whatever's holding your tits in place — just so he can reach back and run his palms over your hard nipples, flicking them and rolling them in between his fingers.
and faintly, in the back of his mind, he's aware that his reversed cursed technique must be working overtime, because suddenly you're rolling forward into him with no care in the world for your previously injured shoulder, as your own hands trail down the front of body, right over his bulge.
but he slaps your hand away, pressing you flat against the mattress, "fuck, not yet. you think i'm just going to let you get away with all this," and as you mewl a soft yes, followed by a please, he rolls his eyes, "wait. behave and i'll give you what you want."
and then, softer, "need to make sure you're ready first."
his arms are caging both sides of your head, and he's got one hand on the headboard (although, you will marvel at the burnt imprint that he's left, later) and the other is tearing your top off, just so he can lean down and let his canines press into the soft fat of your chest, so he can slip a pointed nipple into his mouth and tug it, ever so gently.
but gojo needs to continue lower, and his hand squeezes at the waistband of your short skirt, snapping the elastic twice as you heave your bare chest, "please, please, satoru!"
it's heaven down here for him, and gojo's dizzy at how outstandingly wet you are, with just a single swipe of his fingers in the soft, damp fabric of your underwear.
your clear, sticky arousal clung to his fingers, stretching in thin, glistening threads as he spread your thighs apart, knocking your knees to either side so he could slot himself in between them. your slick shimmered slightly under the light, translucent and tacky and he just couldn't help himself, bringing them up to his mouth to slowly taste.
"shit, princess. you taste so good, can't believe this is what i've been missing out on."
he's playing an instrument, he thinks. gliding his fingers along sodden folds, twirling his index finger past a thick wad of skin and pressing right over your clit in hot, tight circles that have you bucking your hips, "hnngh, right - ah, right there 'toru!"
'toru.
as a reward, he plunges his middle finger straight into your gaping heat, your tight wall of ringed muscles that had been fluttering in light pulses for his attention. fuck, he almost reaches his own climax by feeling how you squirm and writhe, moan and mewl as he starts pushing his finger in, and then out.
in, and then out. in, once more. and out, again. and then, another finger.
his fingers sank into your soft, damp pussy — which yielded easily enough with a soft pssh! as the digits pressed in. gojo pulled his hand back out from your thighs, enjoying the tight resistance and suction as your cunt has resisted being empty once more, leaving a cool moistness on his skin.
but now your hands gently cup his face, and he isn't sure how to not crumble with how you look at him, eyes wide and glossy, "wan' more, want your cock, 'toru."
now, gojo feels as though he's truly ascended, gone onto some higher plane of existence. because how can he resist when your hands are weakly pawing at his belt, at his waistband and he's letting you pull his thick shaft out.
it's hot, and already weeping angry tears of pre-cum, and he just loves how your eyes widen at the sheer size and girth.
"yeah, princess was sooo brave earlier, wasn't she? wanted my cock, ah! shit - did she?" and he's letting the wide tip lay heavy against your clit, knocking it once, and then twice, through your heavenly folds.
you've reached a leg up, and around his waist, pulling him closer and gojo has to pierce his lip with his teeth to not let out a gutteral groan from his cock sliding through the your folds, "i don't - don't care, i really don't fucking care if it's too big. just put it in now, m' so wet, i'm wet enough."
your babble is endearing, and he marvels at how easily he has you cock-drunk without even being in you right now. he jostles further, until the tip is right at your flittering entrance, pressing forward and slipping through the heated, slick gummy texture in a way that has the strongest's head spinning.
"easy, princess. oh fuck, you're too tight. way too tight, i'm gonna -" and gojo inhales, steadying himself, as the wet heat enveloped him as he moved, each slide through the soft walls of your pussy leaving him acutely aware of every inch, the warmth coating him further until your slick was dampening the white, stray hairs of his groin.
he pulls your lips close again, one hand coming up to gently cradle your head, and his fingers weaving slowly through your hair.
"you're so deep in me, 'toru! so - hnngh," and your words are cut off by a staccato thrust of his hips, and your teeth clack around a moan that gojo gladly swallows.
"hey, i'm right here. i've got you, yeah? got you so good, just hold onto me."
and he keeps a steady pace, plunging into molten silk, with a sensation so intense and so enveloping that it left him breathless, with a rush of heat that made his head spin.
he's toying with your tits, pressing his face into the shadow that lies between your mounds, and gojo's certain that he could die a happy man like this, exactly like this.
he realises that the faint laugh is coming from him, so distant is he in his pussy-drunk reverie, that he realises he must look and sound like a madman, "pretty pussy is so tight, so fucking tight. haah, i think i'm gonna have to fill you up, gorgeous?" and he must be blathering, "want me to fill you up? shit- want me to stuff... ah! stuff you so full of cum that we just hafta stay in this bed all day then?"
he had his fingers now moving in circles over your throbbing clit, exerting a gentle pressure that had you so beautifully keening and bucking your hips up, jolting right into his pelvis. and gojo bit back as a groan as his heavy balls started to smack, and smack! over and over again, right onto your dampened skin.
"she must be close right, pretty little pussy must be almost tired now," and gojo's now slapping your clit, lifting three fingers up and bringing them down with enough force to not harm you, but make you jolt, "she. must. be. so. close." and each word is punctuated by the slippery spank of his fingers bouncing right off your mound.
"makes me want to have you - you and her," and gojo's revelling in the slick of your pussy, now throwing his head back without shame.
and when your walls start to flutter, when you start writhing in his grasp, pressed right against his chest with your legs knocked back as far as they reach on other side of his broad frame, he feels himself unravel. feels the rhythmic quake of your tight cunt literally milk him dry, letting pools of thick, white seed plug within you, and he almost shakes and tears up himself, at the idea of claiming you like this.
later, he has you resting against his chest and the knot in his chest, that nasty plague that sent him afoul has disappeared, and gojo feels as though he's about to start purring, from the feeling of your nails trailing little shapes over his skin (little hearts, perhaps?) and how soft your hair feels under his own hands. he can't resist himself from pressing his lips softly to your forehead, "happy?"
you laugh, a genuine, soft sound that erupts from your chest as you press your bare body into him, "you have no idea."
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shotofstress · 1 day ago
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I could have been murdered multiple times by cops while protesting when I was a chronically ill and disable 17yo, like when I tried to be a human shield to stop the shot of tear gas contaminated water the cops were using to attack my 15yo classmates. Average shit for the times I protested during my life. One time I wasn't even protesting, was just outside of the collage going home at night and suddenly a young men and women took me from the arms and shoulders and put me with them behind a tree. The went slow and saw the huge ass rubber bullets pass where seconds ago was my head. They even shot the tear gas cans to our bodies and head, classic shit that easily have kill people. We were so used to tear gas that we keep having classes even when the campus was being under cop attack. We knew how wasn't from the collage bc they begun to cry the second they were in from of the campus from all the gas stored in the ground, buildings and trees. For decades upon decades there is people that never returned home bc the cops or/and the militares took them, no matter if they were in the protests or not. Kids have been hit and shot by this criminals trained by USA under the torture, war criminal training and dictatorship center known as School of the Americas. Gringos, the moment they have to do the 1% of what the Global South do everyday to survive, retreat and feel scared to the point of doing nothing. Weird thing for a country so obsessed with violence and weapons to the point that even kids and teens know how to shot.
Will usamericans know some day that every single one of usa presidents have controlled global south and send their people, like CIA agents, to kill us? Yet no matter who was in usa presidency nor in Global South country president ppl still went and still go to the streets knowing that there is no guaranty they will come back? We don't even have guns nor know how to shot bc we are not a bunch of imperialists terrorists and yet we go to face the cops? I had the point lesser of riot weapons all over be in a chaos of smoke and gas wearing just a sweter, jeans and sneakers in 2016, for example. No weapons. In 2019 the president Piñera (rest in piss) declared us war with USA help, they put the country in state of emergency and curfew to torturing, mutilating, raping, burning, and disappearing hundreds upon hundreds, yet we still went out to protests, specially the more marginalised people in the worst areas of the cities and towns all over the country. The weapons? Wooden spoons, pots, skillets, musical instruments, flags, some molotovs, some ppl improvised a native weapon to throwing stones, the stones in question? Pieces of brick or cement or asphalt taken from the streets.
Die doing at least one right and just thing in your life. Don't want to or can't? Then make info documents for the protesters with what they need to carry, what they can use to clean the tear gas, the wornds, etc. Your ppl has never done shit for Global South, never protested and riot to stop usa colonialism and cops in my continen nor any place. At least do some shit for you pisshole imperialist international terrorist regime that you dare to call a country. My people had their eyes taken, their bodies burned, some mutilated, others thrown to the sea, others into our desert to never be found. And you ppl complain? You ppl dare to complaint? Cops will hit you, maybe shot you, and yet you will never suffer the horrible things that your people and country do to the rest of the world, so rest assured your protests will be better and prettier than the ones we have.
Will ur cops and soldiers put rats inside the vaginas, rectum or mouths of gringos just for protesting or just being a dissident like happened in my country? Will they rape you with dogs? I don't think so. Will ur cops torture you in the subway and take out your eyes for fun? Will you be forced to have sex with one of your family memeber by cops and soldiers like USA teach our cops and military? Will your bodies be burn in ceramic ovens like us? Be mutilated and shove in the streets to open view of everyone?
No? Then why you complain about maybe dying protesting? After all, you are not the Global South under usa and other imperialists countries while being in democracy or in dictatorships, no matter bc both are the same shit. You will be fine, even if they kill you at least you will not be humiliated and dehumanised in the way my people was and is while alive and when dead too.
“We won’t be able to organize/ protest under Trump”.
People in the Global South have been organizing and protesting under dictatorships that America has installed as puppets for decades. You will be fine.
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hwaightme · 2 days ago
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03:10 AM
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(masterlist)
🌃pairing: bf!seonghwa x gn!reader 🌃genre: timestamp, comfort, healing, fluff 🌃summary: 3am, a time for overthinking. is love louder than your thoughts? 🌃wordcount: 1k 🌃warnings/tags: unedited, introspection, lack of confidence, two people in love, kissing, cute sleepy seonghwa, writer is rusty 🌃taglist: at the bottom. would love to add you if interested <3 🌃a/n: oh how i wish to write again, to pour words onto pages and let my heart bleed into the ink. this timestamp is mildly inspired by maro's 'we've been loving in silence'. sorry for rustiness, and any love is so appreciated...
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Everyone is deserving of love. Love in all its shapes and colours. A love that looks like a tender conversation in a tiny kitchen, a love that looks like unstoppable laughter under the starry night sky, a love that looks like unwavering dedication and adoration even when it seems impossible. Every person is worthy of a love that makes their heart feel full while being fully aware of the world and all its complexities, shadows and anguish. A love that gives one hope.
Sometimes, this complicated feeling looks like speeding down the city streets as a salvation in the time of trouble. It could even look like a distraught, disjointed embrace accompanied by a cacophony of sobs and stuttered breaths. Love can look like feeling another’s pain, living through it as if it is one’s own. Love can mean heartbreak, over and over again until there is seemingly nothing left, and yet still the ground up powder of affection would be offered as a sacrifice to this mystery.
What is love to you?
You wonder, particularly on nights like this, when a blanket of calm covers the metropolis in which you found yourself, not too dissimilar to a shell being washed up on the shore to encounter a glorious, blazing sun. A twinkling magic on the other side of the glass greets you, and you rest a finger on the coolness, tracing distant shapes of building after building, only to haphazardly wipe it down with the edge of your sleeve. How did you end up in a place where you thought you would never be, feeling what you had sworn you would be unable to feel? 
A gentle melancholy aches in your chest, etching the curves and edges of your ribcage, an incessant little bird, bubbling up that old sense of unease. What is this that you are living in? If you do not know, will it go away? The loud mind, an old friend and enemy, one which had accompanied you through all stages of your life, to find itself equally as bewildered as your heart, but a lot more terrified. Caught between bliss and a painful awareness of the unknown, you walk a tightrope blindfolded.
At least until a hand reaches out for you, warm, reassuring, and guides you across to an oasis. A beating heart, a familiar breath, palm pressed against your upper arm take you out of your spiralling musings, and beckon you to look in the direction of a soft, barely audible whisper of ‘my love’. 
You turn to meet Seonghwa’s eyes, endless pools of glistening brown sugar, enough to both extinguish and ignite, turn dark to light and wrong to right. A timeless poetry is in his face, the rhythm of his features casting a spell over you as you glance over them. These sleepy eyes, stunning nose and cheeks that bear a pinkish hue, plush lips caught in a miniscule pout, dishevelled hair that you know your boyfriend tried to tame, to no avail. You turn your body to meet him fully, and fall into his arms. They envelop you tightly, and you inhale the ghostly remnants of his cologne, a tantalising note of his, and your favourite shampoo, all intricately blended with fabric softener and cotton - put simply, you are home.
“Why aren’t you sleeping, hm?” he asks, voice still a little raspy. It must have been only minutes since he woke up to find you.
“I’m sorry… Did I wake you?”
“Mm… no. Your absence woke me up,” you could cry, not that you would say it, or rather have to say it. Seonghwa knows how his words affect you anyways, judging by the swift squeeze of his arms before he returns to slowly rocking side to side. 
“I just had a lot of thoughts. Wanted to get rid of them somehow.”
“Want to talk about them?” 
You are not sure if you would be able to summon enough courage to talk about what is plaguing you, at least now, in the semi-darkness of yours and his apartment, you feel far too fragile to look inside of the boxes you keep shuffling. Unbeknownst to yourself, you begin to bite your lower lip, trying to pick the right words. Any attempt to formulate whatever excuse you have been seeking inevitably fails as Seonghwa’s lips find yours, erasing your habit, erasing your worry. Caught off-guard, a quiet gasp escapes you, only to be rewarded by an airy chuckle.
“So… not talking, then?” you press your face into the crook of his neck, sensing heat rising on your cheeks. 
“You surprised me, is all…” you trail off, slowly guiding yourself upwards, but still being unable to meet Seonghwa’s gaze.
“I’ll happily kiss all your worries away, if that’s what it takes,” his tone is humorous, and the phrase is light-hearted. His glances into your eyes, at your lips, at the strands of hair that you know he will adjust for you like he usually does, holding promise and commitment. If you so wish, he will. If you so want, he will. If you so will, he most definitely will. 
Your hands grip onto his sleeping shirt as you mumble a thanks, inching closer until your timid smile melts into his. A pleasantly languid rhythm, a moonlit paradise, drawing a masterpiece with your bodies until you are struggling to breathe. An adorable exchange of sweet nothings as you fill your lungs with air, no distinction of space nor time while you are in this trouble-less duet. A small peck on Seonghwa’s lips prompts him to pull you in again, eyes fluttering shut as he floats, flies, soars in love with you. You swear you can see the stars while the taste of his cherry lip balm lingers.
As you follow him back to bed, sinking into the sheets with a sigh, inklings of somnolence settle over your slow-moving intertwined bodies. His breath turns steady, a comforting rise and fall against your back. Seonghwa’s hand is over yours, thumb making random patterns on your skin.
“Dream of me,” he says against your shoulder, grinning when he hears your sharp exhale.
This, this is love to you.
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🌃taglist: @shakalakaboomboo @charreddonuts @miriamxsworld @innsomniacshinestar @preciouswoozi @wooyoungjpg @wowie-hockey @hongjoongs-patience @jaehunnyy @maddkitt @ren-junwrld @marsstarxhwa @yeonjunnie @asjkdk @northerngalxy @my-loves-my-life @http-gyu
enjoyed? i would love to hear from you, it means the universe to me. thank you.
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ellieputellas · 7 hours ago
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healing process | alexia putellas x reader
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You headed to Barcelona for a gap year, hoping to heal from a messy breakup. What you didn’t expect was to find yourself entangled in an even more complicated romance with the captivating, 30-year-old footballer who lived just down the hall. | wc: 21k+
tags: age gap, collegestudent!reader, mostly angst, some smut, next-door neighbors, fluff in the start, drama,
contains: femme!reader, unrealistic football season schedule, strap r!receiving, fingering r!receiving, dirty talk, drunk sex, cunnilingus r!receiving+a!receiving, toxic situationship, love triangle (kinda but not really), cursing, use of pet names, might have some errors and typos
masterlist ♡ please reblog this fic if you enjoyed it! please do not repost this anywhere else!
⋆˙⟡♡ After suffering a rough break-up with your high school sweetheart and ex-girlfriend of 6 years, you decided that what you needed most was a gap year in a foreign country. So, you packed your essentials and booked a one-way ticket to Barcelona.
⋆˙⟡♡ You lived with your rich aunt who worked as a doctor in Barcelona. She kindly agreed to give you lodging, three meals a day, and the occasional pocket money in exchange for helping her keep the house tidy and walking the dogs, which wasn't much work for you anyway.
⋆˙⟡♡ "Warm day out," You said to your aunt's golden retriever, Ruby. "Let's make the most of it and find me a new girlfriend." You figured that today was a good idea to get dolled up, wear a sundress, and just pass by the nearby university with the cutest dog in the world. Ruby would catch the attention of all the cute college girls and then, you'd reel them in with a few eyelash bats.
That would be the perfect way of getting a meet cute. You thought to yourself.
⋆˙⟡♡ You got dressed, putting on a teasingly short white sundress and a pair of ballet flats. You brushed your hair and applied a bit of make-up. You were determined to get that meet-cute and find someone to help you forget about your girlfriend.
The easiest way getting over an ex was getting under someone, your best friend always said. You always rolled your eyes at her but now, you couldn't help but feel that she might have been right. 
Cause here you were in one of the most beautiful cities in the world and all you could think about was your stupid ex. You needed to do something about it and quick.
⋆˙⟡♡ You put on Ruby's leash and cheerfully walked out of your aunt's apartment unit, determined to be all cutesy until a girl approaches you.
It seemed Ruby had the same idea, because as soon as you stepped into the hallway, she spotted a tiny Pomeranian across the hallway, and that was all it took. Without warning, Ruby darted toward the dog, pulling you forward as you tried to hold on to the leash. Before you could even process, you were flat on your face.
You yelped as you fell, the sound catching the attention of the tiny dog’s owner. You winced as your body slammed into the floor, feeling pained by the impact. But, nothing was more painful than the embarrassment that followed. 
“Ui, guapa, estàs bé?” The voice called out, the sound of rushing footsteps getting closer. “Aquest gos teu és fort, eh?”
You groaned as you tried to push yourself up, but both dogs had already zeroed in on you, sniffing your head as you attempted to sit up. This definitely isn't romance movie, meet-cute material.
As you finally settled on your butt, trying to regain your composure, the other girl chuckled, saying something in a language you couldn’t quite place. You looked up, and everything around you seemed to blur.
She was, without question, the most beautiful woman you’d ever seen.
Her blonde hair framed her face perfectly, and her sun-kissed skin accentuated her cheekbones. Her eyes were a warm hazel that seemed to glimmer in the soft light. You blinked, stunned by how gorgeous she looked.
“Uh, I don’t speak, um…” You stammered, struggling to find words in the face of such beauty. You could feel your face warm up.
She chuckled, her smile practically glowing. “You must’ve hit your head, yeah?”
You snapped back into reality and laughed awkwardly. “Oh, yeah, uh, I fell.” You winced internally. Why was I telling her that? She literally witnessed it all play out.
The girl laughed too, her voice light and warm. "Hmm," She bit her lip. Unbeknownst to you, she was also checking you out, glancing at your eyes and lips. And the sundress... she always loved seeing girls in short sundresses. "Why don't you come over and I'll help you ice that head, yeah?"
You just nodded stupidly cause even if you were still filled with embarrassment, there was no way you were passing up the opportunity to get to know this gorgeous Blonde.
⋆˙⟡♡ Alexia helped you up, holding your arm as she guided you towards her place. You felt intimidated by her strong presence. She just seemed like the kind of person who seemed so sure of themselves. Even the way she said her own name when she introduced herself was so sexy. It didn't take you long to be enamored by her. In fact, all it took was the walk from where you fell to her door.
⋆˙⟡♡ As soon as you stepped inside her home, you got an immediate sense of who Alexia was. She guided you to the living room, and as you sat down, you couldn’t help but notice the details of the space —the warmth of the interiors, the photos framed on the walls, the trophies displayed proudly, the personal touches in every corner. It was clear that she was someone with impeccable taste and a meticulous eye for detail.
"Trophies?" You asked as you settled down on the couch with Ruby who was too distracted sniffing the pomeranian's butt.
Alexia responded as her expression lightened up. "Ah, yes, I am a footballer."
You nodded and hummed, impressed. "Like, for fun?"
Alexia chuckled as she got behind her kitchen counter, wrapping some ice cubes in a kitchen towel. "Yes, for fun..." She answered. "And for work. I play professionally."
"Oh," You responded, mildly embarrassed that you didn't recognize her. "Sorry, I don't watch much soccer."
Alexia settled next to you on the couch, leaning in to gently place the ice against your head, on the nonexistent bump. (She had no clue you didn't actually hit your head and was just too shy and intimidated to correct her when she thought you did.)
“Here?” she asked, her voice soft as she pressed the ice towel on your forehead.
You nodded, biting your lip as she leaned closer. She was so close you could feel the warmth of her body, the gentle touch of her hand, and smell the subtle scent of her perfume. It made your pulse quicken, and you tried not to let your thoughts wander.
“Hmm,” she hummed, locking eyes with you as she tried to make conversation. “You're American, yes?"
“Yeah… is it obvious?” you blushed, feeling suddenly self-conscious by the fact that she was suddenly getting to know you.
She chuckled. “Well, first, you called it soccer and not football. And… you don’t speak Catalan or Spanish.” She responded as she brushed away the stray hairs sticking to your forehead. "The accent too, of course. It's cute."
You felt your cheeks flush even more. She was so observant, and you couldn’t help but feel a little shy under her gaze. 
She leaned back a little, giving you some space as she continued, “So, what is an American girl like you doing in Barcelona?"
You hesitated for a moment before answering. “Oh, I'm taking a gap year… from college.” You said, hesitating to mention the whole thing with your ex. "Stress from school and stuff, y'know how it is."
She raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Hmm, still in school." She mused, under her breath. "And how old are you?”
“Uh… 22,” you stammered, suddenly nervous.
Alexia hummed thoughtfully, her lips curling into a small smile. “So young,” she muttered under her breath. “Too young, actually.”
You blinked, unsure if you heard that right. You couldn't help but jump to conclusions. Pretty older women should never make statements like that, you thought to yourself as you grew even more flustered. “What do you mean?”
Alexia grinned slyly. “I just mean... I’m old enough to know better than to wear a short sundress with just a pair of lacey pink panties underneath while walking a gigantic dog.” She recounted with a chuckle.
You grew tomato red, realizing just how embarrassing her first impression of you was. You felt the warmth spread across your cheeks and then to your body. You wished the floor would have swallowed you whole.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry you had to see that." You stammered, tripping over your own words.
She chuckled. "Why sorry?" 
Your heart skipped a beat as she said it with a barely detectable mischievous glint in her eyes. You blinked in shock. "Uh, uhm, just cause... public indecency?"
Alexia laughed. "You're funny." She leaned in close again to continue icing your head. "Is the ice helping or not at all?"
You bit your lip as you gazed at her raised arms, the tattoo on the underside of it, the muscles. As she moved closer to you, the more you got a whiff of her intoxicating scent and the more you get to see the beautiful details of her face.
"Oh, it's helping a lot."
⋆˙⟡♡ Ever since you met Alexia and learned that she lived just across the hall from your aunt, you found yourself walking Ruby more often than ever. What started as a casual routine soon turned into an excuse to see her, which was successful since you always ended up running into her.
⋆˙⟡♡ “Since you’re always walking Ruby, we should go together. It would be good for Nala to have a friend.” Alexia said as you were heading back to your apartment on one of the times you coincidentally bumped into her. “I should give you my number so you can text me whenever you and Ruby are out.” “Oh, sure, sure.” You said trying to play it cool when you were really geeking out on the inside. You handed over your phone to Alexia who typed her number into your phone.
She bit her lip as she returned it. “Text me as soon as you get home so I can save your number, okay?” She smiled at you. “See you soon, guapa.”
⋆˙⟡♡ Naturally, you texted Alexia every day that you would be walking Ruby. Initially, you were afraid your crush on her would be so obvious but even if it was, Alexia didn’t seem to mind as she never missed a day with you.
⋆˙⟡♡ When you passed by cute cafés during your dog walks, she'd insist on buying you a drink while chatting you up about college life or whatever was piquing your interest that day. It was rare that she talked about herself, which you found hard to believe considering that she had so many achievements.
⋆˙⟡♡ The daily walks weren’t enough for you. You had to see her more but you were afraid that she’d view you as some kid who always begged to hang out. So, you tried to be a bit more subtle by trying to bump into her every chance you got. ⋆˙⟡♡ There wasn't a single dirty sock in your aunt's apartment since you went to the laundromat every chance you got just to bump into Alexia. And when you did, she was always courteous and proper. She never let you carry your own bag of laundry up to your floor even when you insisted you could handle it. She always paid for your laundry too. Even when you would try to tell her that your aunt left you more than enough money for errands, she’d laugh and say something along the lines of “just pocket it and let me pay” or “it’s just a few euros, no big deal.”
⋆˙⟡♡ A couple of times, you joined her for her grocery run to the supermarket when all you really needed was a singular tube of toothpaste or a small bag of tomatoes. She’d tell you all the best ingredients to buy for certain dishes, even if you’ve told her multiple times all you knew how to cook were box mix pancakes and fried rice. And without failure, she would invite you over to her house after your grocery trip to show you how to cook a certain dish but all you’d do is admire how graciously she worked in the kitchen
⋆˙⟡♡ Each and every single time you were together, Alexia was always friendly, polite — always keeping a careful distance. But somehow, in every encounter, there was that one fleeting touch, one single moment, one look that just left you completely hooked.
Some days, it would be her hand lingering a moment too long on the small of your back or the side of your waist or sometimes even on your thigh, just long enough to send a shiver down your spine. Other times, it was the microglances—the quick, almost imperceptible glances she would steal toward your lips before quickly looking away. Occasionally, there were comments about your age, your looks, how she loved being around you — innocent enough on the surface, but with an undertone that made you question her intentions in saying them. 
If you weren’t paying attention, you would have missed it entirely. But you always were. Every word she said, every glance, every touch was amplified and engraved in your mind. With Alexia, you were no longer just present—you were consumed. And you couldn’t get enough.
⋆˙⟡♡ Alexia had insisted you stay for a dinner and movie after you helped her unpack the groceries on her latest supermarket run, which you excitedly agreed to.
After dinner, you both settled onto the couch. She mentioned that a teammate had recommended the movie, but neither of you had any clue what it was about. 
Soon enough, you realized it was a horror movie—a genre you weren’t exactly thrilled about, especially with how easily you jumped at every little thing. But you two were already invested in the story to change it to something else. 
⋆˙⟡♡ Alexia quickly regretted trusting Patri's recommendation blindly. This definitely wasn’t the vibe she’d intended, but she decided to make the most of it.
Noticing your shivers, she glanced over. “Cold?”
You nodded, and she laughed softly, heading to her bedroom to grab a comforter. She set it over both of you, creating a cozy little nest on the couch.
As the suspense built, you found yourself sinking deeper into the blanket, resisting the urge to cover your eyes as things got scarier. Alexia chuckled, nudging you. “You’re such a baby,” she teased.
“This doesn’t scare you?” you asked, wide-eyed.
She shrugged. "No, not really, I get shocked sometimes but it's nothing too intense for me." She smiled at you. "And I guess, this is too scary for a little kid like you, huh?"
You pouted at her teasing. "Hey! You don't get to tease me when you made me watch a scary movie."
She chuckled, putting her hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay, no more teasing." She said. "If you're that scared, why don't you snuggle up here? I promise I don't bite."
You bit your lip and felt your heart beat faster. You nodded and scooted closer to her. Alexia put her arm around you as you rested your head on her chest.
There was a warmth to it, a sense of comfort that felt almost… domestic. Sitting there, wrapped in her arms after a casual evening of groceries and a shared meal, you felt the faint illusion of something more — something almost relationship-like.
Alexia never made any deliberate and overt actions to show you that she was interested in you in that manner but the fact that you two were hanging out basically every day, doing all these domestic errands, and now, cuddling... you couldn't help but delude yourself that maybe there could be something there. It had to mean something.
A few moments later, Alexia broke the silence. “Cariño, you still awake?” The endearment made your heart skip a beat. She's used it on you a few times before but without failure, it always made you flush.
You blinked and looked up at her, taking note of the proximity between the two of you. Her eyes were soft and warm as they looked back at you. "Yeah, I'm just comfy.” You hummed, comfortably. “Being near you helped me be less scared honestly.”
Alexia chuckled. You rested your head on her chest again and she started brushing your hair with her fingertips. It was so easy to get lost in how good it felt, but a small voice in the back of your mind warned that maybe this closeness meant nothing to her. Maybe she was like this with all her friends.
"You know you remind me of my teammate, Jana." Alexia suddenly said in the middle of the movie. "She's also around your age and whenever we watched scary movies, she'd cling on to me exactly like this."
It felt like confirmation of your own worries. You hummed in response, not sure what to say. Great, so I guess she is like this with all her friends.
"You should meet her. You'd get along. She's sweet." She continued.
You nodded. "Does she hang out here a lot?" You asked, trying to sound unaffected by the thought of someone else spending this much time with this woman you were crushing hard on.
"Yes, but more so when she was newer to the team." Alexia shared. "She's practically like my little sister so I felt like I had to take care of her. I'd always have her and my other younger teammates hang out here and watch movies during our downtimes. Sometimes, I feel like I raised them."
You just nodded again. You didn't know what was worse – your initial thought that maybe Alexia was interested in someone else or the fact that she was comparing you to someone she thought of as her little sister.
⋆˙⟡♡ “Had to take a late shift at the hospital. I’ll be home in the morning,” read the text from your aunt. You bit your lip, feeling a pang of unease at the thought of being alone in her big apartment all night after watching a scary movie.
Sure, Ruby would be there, but that dog was more of a scaredy cat than you were. If anything, she’d probably push you toward a demon just to save herself.
"You good?" Alexia asked as she noticed you still staring at your phone.
"Yeah, my aunt took another shift at the hospital so I'd be all alone at the apartment." Being home alone after watching Daniel Radcliffe get tormented by some vengeful ghost in a house all by himself was not exactly ideal.
Alexia raised an eyebrow. “Oh, you won’t be alone.” Her eyes sparkled mischievously. “You’ll be with the woman in black.”
“Alexia!” You playfully smacked her as she laughed. “Don’t joke like that—I’m actually terrified.”
“I’m just teasing,” she said with a smile, her tone softening. “But I won’t let you stay there alone, of course. Spend the night here. I’ll lend you something to wear.”
⋆˙⟡♡ You loved having Alexia's name on you. You took a glance at yourself wearing the old, red jersey you picked out from her cabinet. She told you that the jersey wasn’t exactly the most comfortable thing to sleep in but you insisted. What other chance would you get to snuggle up in a football superstar’s jersey.
"I still cannot believe you played for your country in the World Cup," You shared out loud. "When you first told me you played soccer, I genuinely thought you meant like casually or like not to that level."
Alexia chuckled, towel-drying her hair after coming out of the shower. “Didn’t want to brag, but… yes, I’ve represented the country,” she replied with a modest grin.
After finishing up, she climbed into bed and raised an eyebrow at you. “Are you planning to spend all night admiring yourself in my kit?” she teased, watching you look at yourself in the mirror.
You chuckled and made your way to her bed. You crawled under the covers and settled with a good distance between you and Alexia. She must have noticed because she commented. "Why are you so far? Are you leaving room for the woman in black?"
You grabbed a pillow and playfully smacked her. “Alexia, don’t make jokes about that! I’m still freaked out from that movie.”
“Alright, alright, no more ghost jokes,” she laughed. “But come closer; I don’t want you rolling off the bed.”
You bit your lip as you scooted toward her, feeling the warmth of her body beside you. Turning onto your side, you found yourself facing her, and she mirrored you, her eyes soft.
"Will I ever get to watch you play?" You asked in a soft voice.
Alexia nodded. "Of course, once the season starts, I'll have a ticket for you in every game." She smiled. "When are you leaving Barcelona again?"
You hummed in thought. "Well, since I plan to re-enroll in the next year, I have to be home before September next year."
Alexia nodded. "Well, that just means you get to watch me play a lot of games before you go home." She smiled warmly at you. "I would love to see you there in the crowd in a Barcelona jersey. You'd be so cute in blaugrana."
You blushed and smiled at the thought of it. "Is it okay if I don't know a thing about football?"
Alexia chuckled. “All you need to know is how to yell my name.” Her voice was laced with drowsiness. "I'd just love to have you there cheering for me. Promise that you'll cheer for me?"
You blushed, her words sending a thrill through you. "Of course, Alexia. I'll be the loudest one in the crowd." You promised.
Alexia smiled at your words as her eyes grew heavy.
You wanted so badly to tell her how much she made you feel—how the smallest gestures, the small teasing comments, and the way she looked at you left you craving more. You wanted to tell her how much you liked spending time with her and being around her. And, god, the thought of being this close to her in bed…
But you held back. Despite how sweet and attentive Alexia was, she never made her intentions clear. Was she spending time with you because she liked you, or did she just see you as a little sister figure? You couldn’t tell and you weren't willing to risk anything just yet.
Soon, Alexia's eyes began to flutter with drowsiness, and she drifted off to sleep. Your heart pounded, an ache in your chest as you resisted the urge to reach out and trace her face with your fingertips. But you stopped yourself, thinking it would be too intimate, too personal.
All you could do was watch her until sleep claimed you too.
⋆˙⟡♡ "So, tell me which girl in this damn apartment building are you playing hooky with?" Your aunt teasingly berated you over dinner. It's been a while since your aunt and you had dinner together with all the time she was spending working at the hospital and all that time you were spending with Alexia.
Your eyes widened. "Why would you think that?"
Your aunt hummed. "Well, cause just over a month ago, you spent most of the time whining to me about your fugly ex but now, you're doing the laundry every fucking day. You're walking Ruby so much that she's grown gigantic calf muscles. You’re running errands like a woman possessed, picking up random things from the supermarket.” She recounted. "Plus, the fact that you're doing all these errands in short sundresses and with blush and mascara..."
You immediately blushed, not expecting her to be so perceptive. “Why would you automatically assume I’m flirting with someone? I just… made a friend.” You said. It wasn’t exactly a lie. As much as you crush on Alexia, you never really made a move… and neither did she.
Your aunt hummed with satisfaction, clearly delighted by your reaction. “Well, tell me about your friend then! I’m not your mom—I won’t lecture you, but I am rooting for you. In fact, I’m all for hearing about your sex life!”
You threw your head back in laughter, amused by your aunt’s frankness. She joined you, but her curiosity didn’t seem to waver.
“I swear, I’m not interested in anyone like that." You tried to brush it off casually, but your aunt’s sharp eyes didn’t miss a thing. “I’m just learning a lot about the city with this lady from our building. She took me to some cafés and bakeries nearby. I can pick up some of these lovely croissants for you if you’d like.”
Your aunt hummed and raised an eyebrow, ignoring your lame attempt at deflecting the topic. "Well, I just gotta tell you that there are crazy folks living in this complex and I just want to make sure you're not falling for some rich wackjob."
You rolled your eyes in amusement. "Yeah, yeah, I'm pretty sure you're the only crazy, rich person here, Auntie.” You joked back at her.
She feigned offense, dramatically clutching her chest. “Absolutely not! These people make me look sane. Like, Alvaro down the hall? He has a creepy puppet collection worth thousands of euros! And that lady in apartment 309? Apparently, she nearly went to jail because she tried to, uh, cut off her husband’s—well, you get the picture.”
Your aunt went on and on listing down the quirks of the people who lived in your building. 
Some of them were a tad weird but not really anything of concern. ("I heard that British girl one floor down is an esthetician and she bedazzles your genitals after she waxes it.") 
Some... well, you just felt your aunt was making up to make you laugh. ("Some guy who lives here once made an offer in the elevator to sniff my feet in exchange for a thousand euros.")
You had a good laugh until a familiar name popped up. "Don't let me get started with that famous football girl on our floor, Alexia or Alexis or whatever. She and her fiancé used to fight so much. Literally, they'd even take it out on each other at the hallway — just yelling and throwing stuff. At some point, someone even called the police."
Your heart stopped. "The police?"
"Well, not the police but like... the building manager, which is basically the same thing to me." She shrugged at her own exaggeration. "I guess they made up or completely split up cause I don't hear fighting down the hall anymore. Either way, thank god."
You nodded, trying to keep your composure. You knew Alexia had past relationships but you didn't know about her being previously engaged; she never liked talking too much about herself, especially her past relationships.
But you couldn’t imagine the Alexia you spent so much time with being involved in a toxic relationship like that. She was always so calm and level-headed. Surely, it must have just been a mistake. Still, a nervous flutter settled in your stomach. 
⋆˙⟡♡ You woke up in the middle of the night to Ruby pawing at you insistently. Blinking, still groggy from sleep, you muttered, "What is it, girl?"
She let out a low whining sound, the same sound she made when she had to poo. You cursed under your breath as you realized you forgot to take her out today for her daily potty.
Your aunt previously told you that the peckish dog only peed and hated pooping in litter boxes. Even when you tried to coax her into it, she refused, so every day, you would take her outside for a poop.
You never usually missed it since she would just do it during your walks with Alexia and Nala. But since Alexia has been busy for a while and couldn't see you, you had no energy to get out of bed.
It's only been a few days since you last saw Alexia yet you were already missing her badly. It also upset you that she didn't even give a reason for her sudden absence, just a curt text telling you she'd be too busy to hang out.
But, being upset over a neighbor's unavailability was no excuse to miss taking Ruby out on her daily poo.
"I'm so sorry, Ruby." You said as you sleepily fumbled out of bed. Throwing on a hoodie, you leashed her up, grabbed the potty pick up kit and headed to the hallway. "Let's go on a quick walk."
The second you stepped out, you heard laughter echoing down the hall. You rubbed your eyes as you looked over to the source of the sound. That's when you saw Alexia stumbling to her door, wearing a fitted, backless black dress, arm-in-arm with a taller girl with dark hair whose arms were covered in tattoos. They were swaying, giggling, obviously drunk.
You couldn't recognize the girl Alexia was with but to be fair, Alexia never talked much about her friends or her dating history. But from what you could observe right now, it was obvious that there was something between the two.
You cursed under your breath as you saw them drunkenly stumble towards Alexia's door. You considered going back inside your aunt's place but just as you tried to, Ruby let out a small bark, as if to tell you to hurry up.
"Alright, alright," You whispered to the demanding dog as you made your way to the elevator —too close to Alexia’s apartment for comfort.
Despite your best attempts at stealth, Ruby was too big and enthusiastic to go unnoticed.
“Espera, espera,” Alexia’s voice rang out as she noticed you, her lips curving into a smile. “¿Ets tu, guapa?”
You could tell from the volume and slur of her voice that she had way too much to drink. You shyly waved but didn't say anything. You prayed the elevator would come faster. 
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw how close this tall girl was to Alexia, her arm lingering around Alexia’s waist. There was an ease between them, a familiarity that made your stomach twist.
Alexia called out to you one last time, gesturing for you to come over, but you just pointed to Ruby as an excuse and mouthed, “Can’t.” She let out an exaggerated sigh, rolling her eyes before turning back to her door.
Just as she was about the enter her apartment, you heard the tattooed girl ask Alexia who you were. “¿Y esa chica, quién es?”
"Ah, just some clingy kid who hangs around..." Her voice trailed off as the two entered the apartment but it was all you had to hear.
You really were just some kid to her. 
⋆˙⟡♡ You were upset about the whole encounter you had with drunken Alexia for about a week. You shifted your whole errand schedule to avoid her. You started walking Ruby late at night. You did your laundry very early in the morning, too early for anyone to actually get up and wash their clothes. Whenever she texted you, you'd ignore it or give her a curt response, telling her you were too busy or feeling unwell. You basically wanted to avoid Alexia at all costs.
⋆˙⟡♡   On the other hand, your best friend from back home was spam-texting you, pestering you about updating her with your "new, exciting life in Barcelona."
Sadly, you had nothing to update her on. 
What would you even say? Oh, it's great, just started yearning for some thirty-year-old who lives down the hall who might be hooking up with some hot, tall, tattooed vixen who I could never amount to... so now, I'm avoiding her cause I don't want my feelings hurt. So, yeah it's been great!
You didn't want to come back home with stories about how you flew all the way to Barcelona just to be upset over another girl. So, you decided that you've had enough of bedrotting with Ruby all day. You were going out to have fun on a Friday night.
You tried to rewind your mindset to just before you met Alexia — determined to forget a girl by finding another girl to mess around with.
You put on a black leather bralette with a very short skort that showed a sliver of your butt cheeks. You went all out with the make-up and hair. You were determined to get laid tonight... or at the very least, find someone to kiss.
⋆˙⟡♡  That night, you found yourself at a packed lesbian bar. The place was already buzzing when you walked in, but you didn’t mind—it only meant more eyes on you.
You didn’t even need to drink to feel the rush of confidence. The playful glances from the other women were enough to make you feel like the center of attention. You could tell they were eyeing you, sizing you up, and enjoying the sight of a fresh, hot girl in the crowd.
What you didn’t know was that as soon as you made your way to the counter, several girls were already trying to figure out the best way to approach you and offer to buy you a drink.
But it was one girl who beat them to it. She was a brunette with lightly tanned skin, defined eyebrows, and a smile that was radiant and inviting. As soon you approached the counter, she slid in before you, leaning in with that playful, confident grin. “¿Te puedo invitar a un trago?”
You couldn’t help but blush, a sly smile tugging at your lips as you looked her up and down. She was taller than you and wore a casual outfit—just a simple white shirt and pants, but she pulled it off effortlessly. “Did you just ask me in Catalan to buy me a drink?”
The brunette chuckled and shook her head, quickly understanding that you were a foreigner. "Spanish, actually." She extended her hand to introduce herself. "Patri."
You smiled back at the girl and shook her hand. "I'll take that drink, Patri."
⋆˙⟡♡ A few drinks later, you were laughing louder than you intended at all the jokes Patri made, and finding every excuse to touch her whenever you spoke. You were getting more and more tipsy, but you didn’t mind it—this was exactly what you wanted. Tonight was about fun, and you were determined to get what you came for.
“Why is every girl in Barcelona a soccer player?” you asked, laughing a little too loudly when she casually mentioned she played football.
Patri just chuckled, clearly amused by your question. “Football is huge here. A lot of people play it for fun, like, recreationally…” she said, playing it humble. “But I actually play professionally for a decent club."
You raised an eyebrow, your fingers lightly grazing her upper arm as you spoke. “Then I must be lucky to have such a famous football player buying me drinks.”
Tugging at Patri's ego seemed to work because she inched towards you and put a hand on your waist. "Yeah?" The footballer asked.
You batted your eyelashes and bit your lip as you nodded. "Yeah..." You intentionally averted your gaze to her lips, silently daring her to make the first move.
Patri didn’t need any more encouragement. She stepped closer, leaning in to close the gap between you, her lips almost on yours.
“Ey, Patri!”
A groan escaped Patri’s lips as she pulled back, her eyes apologizing before she turned toward the sound of the voice. You turned as well, curiosity piquing when you saw who was interrupting your moment... only to be met by the sight of Alexia.  ⋆˙⟡♡ You should have figured it out yourself that Patri and Alexia were teammates but you were too focused on the goal of flirting that it didn’t even cross your mind. If only you knew, you would have picked any other girl to flirt with.
⋆˙⟡♡ Patri introduced you to her teammates who had just arrived — Mapi, Ingrid, Kika, and of course... Alexia Putellas. They all greeted you warmly, save for Alexia who had a stoic look on her face. She didn't react, didn't make it known to her teammates that she already knew you. She just stayed silent, her jaw clenched.
You got to know all of them. They were all very welcoming and they all seemed proud of Patri for bagging you.  At one point, you caught Mapi whispering to Patri something in Spanish but all you could catch was the part when she said something about how pretty you were. Ingrid also complimented you a lot, even touching the details of your leather outfit. It was an ego boost, for sure, getting all these famous footballers to gush about you.
The entire time, Alexia stood silently, either averting your gaze or ordering more drinks. You decided that if she wasn't going to address you, you weren't going to address her. Two could play at that game.
⋆˙⟡♡ You enjoyed being with Patri — her firm body dancing against yours, the heat of her presence, the way she made you laugh and smile effortlessly. She was hot, confident, and didn't shy away from showing her attraction to you. It was easy to get lost in the moment with her, the music pulsing around you, her hands on your hips as you danced together.
But what turned you on the most was the fact that Alexia was watching you the entire time. From the corner of your eye, you could see her—standing by the bar, drink in hand, watching you with a gaze that was far too intense to be accidental. ⋆˙⟡♡ As the night wore on and the alcohol took hold, Alexia stopped pretending she wasn't watching, her eyes locked on you the entire time you danced with Patri, not caring for any more subtlety. It was intimidating but it also felt like a challenge, as if testing you as to how far you’d go while she was watching.
⋆˙⟡♡ The contrast of it all was so electrifying — Patri's impossible closeness with her body pressed against yours and her hands wandering all over your body, and Alexia standing several feet away from you with eyes that never departed you. 
You had been avoiding her gaze the entire night. It just felt too intense for you to handle but after another tequila shot that Patri so gladly poured down your mouth, you finally gained the courage to lock eyes with her as you pressed your backside against Patri's front, grinding seductively. 
Alexia's stare was firm and unmoving; it was almost unreadable. Anger? Disbelief? Annoyance? Disgust? You had no fucking clue. Her eyes narrowed at you two as Patri spun you around and held you closer to her, practically exchanging breaths. Alexia downed her whiskey as she rolled her eyes, turning around towards the counter to order another.
⋆˙⟡♡ "I just need to have you," Patri whispered drunken sweet nothings into your ears as her hands got busy, mostly gripping your waist and hips.
The two of you had made way to a more private corner where you two could be more intimate and apart from the rowdy dance floor. 
Patri pressed a kiss on the side of your jaw. It was firm enough for you to react but gentle enough to let you know she was testing out the waters. Seeing your reaction, Patri smirked and cursed under her breath as she saw your eyes fluttering under her touch.
⋆˙⟡♡ Alexia watched it all unfold. The alcohol was making her more irritable than she normally was. As soon as she saw Patri plant her lips on you, she felt the jealousy rush through her body. No fucking way, she thought. No fucking way Patri gets to kiss her before I do.
Before you two could proceed any further, Alexia put down her glass and stomped her way to you, not giving a fuck about the people she was bumping and pushing away as she did.
When she got to you, she didn't hesitate. She grabbed your arm and pulled you away from Patri without bothering to say a single word to either of you. Your drunken state couldn't process what was happening immediately. 
"What the fuck?" It was all you could say. You turned desperately to look at Patri who looked just as dumbfounded as you. You tried to halt but Alexia's grip was so strong that even when you tried to stop, she was able to drag your weight.
⋆˙⟡♡ You finally stopped where Alexia's car was parked and you frowned. "I'm not getting in with you, Alexia! You're drunk!" You said in almost a shout. "And I can't drive for shit so we're not going anywhere! I'm going back to Patr—"
Suddenly, Alexia's lips came crashing onto yours, shutting you up. She pressed your body against the cool surface of her car. Her hand made its way to your waist as she kissed you desperately, thirstily. 
It didn't take long for you to reciprocate with your hands snaking to the side of her neck, kissing her as if you wanted to completely devour her. You moaned as you felt Alexia's tongue enter your mouth and as her hand lowered from your waist to your ass. Whatever apprehension or complaint you had from being pulled away from Patri was gone. This kiss was something you've been wanting, craving, needing for weeks
Alexia ended the kiss as abruptly as she started it. She kept one hand on her vehicle and the other on your waist as she pulled away slightly — her eyes piercing yours with an intensely hungry stare. 
"Get in the car." She ordered in a deep, raspy voice and you had no choice but to say yes.
⋆˙⟡♡ You spent the first few minutes silent. You didn't know what to say. You wanted to feel frustrated about her pulling you away from Patri, who had been genuinely nice and accommodating. You wanted to shout at her and tell her off for drunk driving. You just had so much going through your mind that it was becoming static.
"You've been avoiding me," She broke the silence. "Don't try to deny it because I know you have."
You stayed quiet, trying to find a retort but all your mind could fixate on was the fact that she was driving right now. "You're drunk driving."
"Who gives a fuck? We live ten minutes away." She groaned and rolled her eyes. You could see her knuckles turn white as she gripped the wheels tighter with frustration. "See? That's our fucking building complex. You happy?"
You huffed, startled by the out-of-character outburst from the older woman. Alexia was usually so level-headed and calm. You never once saw her this frustrated. Suddenly, you remembered your aunt's short anecdote about Alexia and her fiancé fighting.
Maybe this was that version of Alexia.
⋆˙⟡♡ "Are you just going to keep ignoring me?" Alexia hissed out as you two made your way from the basement parking lot to the apartment elevator.
You stayed silent. Alexia groaned in frustration as she ran a hand through her blonde hair. You were starting to sober up now, not by much but enough to tell that Alexia was absolutely wasted. You could smell the heavy scent of smokey whiskey linger on her breath.
In frustration, once you two got in the elevator, Alexia cornered you. She looked down on you, towering over you. "Do I have to corner you every time I want to talk to you, huh?"
You rolled your eyes. "Why would you wanna talk to me? We're not friends."
Alexia's demeanor went from angry to disappointed. "Then what was all that hanging out everyday about? All that pretending you have to immediately go wash two pairs of pants just so you could be with me and do laundry? Cuddling up to me on the couch? Was that nothing?" She asked with a voice laced with frustration.
You bit your lip and looked down, feeling partly ashamed and upset she had caught up with what you were doing. You knew you were being obvious with making up excuses to see her but you thought that Alexia never seemed to mind... well, until you heard what she said about you that night.
Alexia sighed. Seeing you suddenly get upset just softened her. She put her arms down and instead, gently reached out to you to put a lock of hair behind your ear. The same hand cupped the side of your face. "Look at me."
You slowly and carefully looked up to the taller girl. In this proximity, all you could focus on were the tiny beautiful details on her face — her subtle smile lines around her eyes, the small freckles on her face, the golden specks in her eyes. You wanted to give in so bad but you just felt it was unfair of her to be demanding you explain to her why you've been avoiding her when she hasn't exactly been clear about how she felt about you.
“Please tell me, cariño.” She said in a hushed voice. “Why don’t you want to be around me anymore?”
"Why does it matter that I've been avoiding you?" You muttered in frustration. "I'm just some clingy kid to you, aren't I?"
As if on cue, the doors to the elevator opened to your floor. You gently pushed Alexia aside and walked away. You were barely a step out of the elevator when Alexia grabbed you. She spun you around and her lips were on you again.
Your fists were balled up, ready to protest and push her away. You wanted to demand she be honest with you; you wanted to know why she was being all nice and close to her when you were alone together but calling you "a clingy kid" around some other hot girl.
But your body wanted Alexia more than you wanted clarity. And so, your fists unclenched, your body fell limp in her arms, your mouth parted to allow her to deepen her kiss... and you completely gave in.
⋆˙⟡♡ It felt like Alexia and you were playing a game of who can keep their mouth on the other as you undressed.
You continued to make out as you messily and brashly entered her apartment. She basically slapped the walls blindly to turn on the light switches and just dropped her car keys on the floor. She didn't give a fuck. Alexia was selfish with your kisses and didn't want anything else to take her attention from the way you were kissing her.
But this slow stumbling to her bedroom was not her taste and it was distracting to her. So naturally, the blonde girl put her arms on the back of your legs before lifting you up to carry to her bedroom.
You didn't want to lose this game either. You continued to kiss her as you wrapped your legs around her, holding on to her tightly.
She gently laid you down on her bed before taking off her top, revealing her bare chest. She was so attractive and you wanted to feel every inch of her skin under your fingertips. You bit your lip as you desperately kicked off your shoes before pulling her again towards you, wanting more.
"Fuck, I've wanted to do this for so long." She muttered in between kisses as she pulled your leather skort off. You couldn't get a response out as you were too overstimulated by everything that was happening but the desperation behind your kisses could easily be felt by the older woman without you having to say anything.
Alexia's hands gracefully unzipped your bralette top and shrugged it off your body. She cursed under her breath as she gazed at your breasts, taking them in her hands.
"Fuck, been fantasizing about these perfect tits since I met you." She hummed before taking an erect nipple into her mouth, sucking and licking on it. You moaned out loud and bucked your hips as she continued to pleasure your chest with her mouth.
Alexia held your hips down before pressing two digits against your soaked underwear. She hummed in delight. "Since when was this?"
"Huh?"
She smirked. "I meant, who made you this wet tonight? Me or Patri?"
Apparently, you took too long to answer because she violently pressed two fingers against your soaking, clothed cunt.
"F-fuck, Alexia." You exclaimed as you felt her rub slow but firm circles around your clit. You arched your hips again, desperately wanting to be touched more by Alexia. "I want you inside, please."
Alexia hushed you, keeping a steady yet painfully slow pace. "You think I'd give it away to you so easily after you ignore me and then basically dryhump one of my closest friends in front of me, huh?"
You whimpered, feeling desperate. "Alexia, please, please."
She smirked at the sight of you squirming underneath her, begging to be filled by her. "Then answer me." She ordered.
You felt her press harder, making you moan out again. "Alexia, you did. You made me this wet. Alexia, please." You blubbered out in a pathetic string of desperation. "It was all you. Only you.”
Alexia smiled and leaned into your ear. "Good girl."
With a swift motion, Alexia pushed your panties to the side and began firmly massaging circles against your wet clit. You moaned out loud, feeling yourself warm up in pleasure.
As Alexia quickened her pace and as her mouth found its way back to your hardened nipples, you felt yourself getting close to an orgasm but it felt so unsatisfying without being filled by her. You moaned out. "Alexia, I need you inside please."
You clenched around nothing as Alexia continued to rub against you. You felt your frustration grow. "Alexia, inside please." You whimpered, writhing underneath her.
"Shh, you're so impatient." Alexia scolded. "But since you look so desperate for it..."
Alexia pulled your panties off effortlessly before she let her fingers sink deep into you. You gasped at the sudden thrust of her fingers inside you. She smirked, watching your eyes roll to the back of your head in pleasure. You shut your eyes as you gyrated your hips against her slow-thrusting fingers. You cursed out loud, feeling Alexia carefully curl her fingers to test out your sensitive spots. Her fingers were much longer than yours were and she was making you feel more pleasure than you could ever feel all alone.
Alexia started picking up the pace, thrusting her fingers in and out of you. She cursed when you started moaning out loud and felt your fingers tighten around her two digits. She started to thrust faster, then harder, and now she was curling her fingers with every inward thrust.
She loved watching you undo under her touch. She loved your moans, the feeling of you clenched around her fingers, the way your face contorted in pleasure, the way your boobs bounced with her every thrust... you were a sensory delight to her.
"Alexia, oh my fuck..." You exclaimed as you felt her pound her fingers against you. The sound of your slick and your heavy breathing filled the room as Alexia steadily fucked you to the point of not being able to think about anything else but the feeling of her fingers inside you.
Alexia leaned next to your face and planted small kisses in between catching her breath. "I've wanted to fuck this tight pussy since I saw you." She said against your ear. "You looked so cute in that sundress."
You moaned again, gripping Alexia's bare back. "Alexia, faster, please."
Alexia pressed a kiss against your jaw before opening her mouth to leave sloppy kisses on your neck that you were sure would leave marks in the morning. She picked up the pace even more, making you shout out her name as you felt the pleasure ripple throughout your body. 
"Fuck, I'm so close." You moaned out. "Oh my god."
"Scream my name, cariño." She whispered with heavy pants. 
Then, you felt your orgasm rip through you, leaving you shaking under her. "Alexia!" You shouted out as you let yourself arch your back in the intense pleasure.
Alexia let you ride out your orgasm before slowly pulling out her fingers. She smiled at you warmly before using her thumb to part your lips open. As you did, she stuck her two wet fingers down your mouth. "Suck me dry, cariño."
You enthusiastically sucked on her fingers, making sure to lick and suck all of your cum off of it. The entire time, you made eye contact with Alexia who was biting her lip and cursing under her breath. 
The sight of you taking her long fingers in your warm mouth was making her wet. And, god, the wet sloppy sounds paired with the sensation of your mouth wrapped around them… She cursed under her breath before she pulled her fingers out. You looked at her confused as she made her way to her cabinet, rummaging for something in one of the drawers.
That's when she pulled out a large, transparent dildo attached to a harness. You bit your lip as you watched Alexia put it on her bare body.
Your eyes finally got the chance to admire her more this time. You looked at her muscular figure, her long legs, her firm ass, and of course, her abs. You've never seen someone with abs as glorious as hers before. You wanted to moan out loud at just the sight of her. She was hotter naked than you ever imagined. 
"Checking me out, cariño?" She teased as she adjusted the harness. 
You bit your lip and nodded. She chuckled, feeling elated by the fact that she could see you get wet again just with the sight of her naked body. 
"Well, you can do that on your knees, no?" She asked.
⋆˙⟡♡ Watching you suck her fingers wasn't enough for Alexia, she wanted to watch you take her entire strap in your mouth. She wanted to see you struggle to take its entire length.
"Open wide, pretty." She said in a low voice as she took her thumb again to part your mouth. The sight of you kneeling in front of her with wide, pleading eyes paired with an angle where she could perfectly see your tits... it just made her want to fuck it with being gentle and take your head and use your mouth to fuck her strap with.
But she still tried to be gentle with you. Letting you take in the tip between your lips before gently pushing your head towards her to take in the entire length. You almost gagged at one point but you quickly adjusted to having her length in your mouth. 
When you took in the entire length, Alexia moaned out loud at the sight. "Fuck, suck me off, cariño."
You obeyed and started slowly moving your head as you sucked. You looked up at the older woman who had her bottom lip tucked between her teeth as she held your head steady. “Yeah, just like that.” She grunted out. “You look so pretty taking me in like that.” The silicone stifled your moan when you finally got a whiff of her alluring musk. You couldn't see under the harness but you were sure Alexia was dripping wet herself.
Alexia grew impatient. “Cariño, tap my leg if it hurts, yeah?" She warned you and you just nodded.
She smirked before firmly grabbing onto your head as she began slowly thrusting into your mouth. When you felt the strap hit the back of your throat, you gagged and felt tears form in your eyes, making Alexia even wetter at the sight of it. "You look so cute, cariño." She grunted out breathlessly.
The base of the dildo was hitting Alexia's clit every time she thrust into your mouth, driving her close to an orgasm. It felt so good watching you suck her strap off while feeling it all on her clit. She moaned as she kept thrusting your head against the entire length, wanting to feel more of the sensation.
She moaned out in a low voice and threw her head back. The sight of her — with her eyes shut and her muscles clenched — as she used your mouth to fuck herself left you dripping on to Alexia's bedroom floor. Finally, you felt Alexia tense up before finally cumming. 
"Good job, baby." She said before guiding your mouth open to take the dildo out, a string of saliva forming from your mouth to the silicone member. She bent down to your height and captured your lips in a kiss. "You did so well. You took me in your mouth so well."
Her compliments filled you with so much warmth. You continued to kiss her, wrapping your arm around her neck. Effortlessly, Alexia lifted you up again and laid you down on the bed. 
She planted a gentle kiss on the side of your head before whispering. "Think you can handle my strap inside of you?"
You didn't even have to think twice about it.
⋆˙⟡♡ Alexia never was an impatient lover in bed but everything about you made her feral, wanting to fuck you fast and hard just so she can watch you unravel before her over and over again.
Something about the way you orgasmed was addicting for her to watch. She loved watching your body clench, your mouth open wide in pleasure as you moan and whimper and scream her name. It was addicting for her.
Despite that, she still wanted to focus on your pleasure instead of fulfilling her own desires of seeing you cum several times — one after the other — under her.
She watched your pussy slowly take in her entire length as she slowly pushed it inside. It didn't take long until she thrust the entire length inside you, the strap disappearing from her sight. She cursed under her breath as you wriggled and whimpered underneath her as you felt her huge strap completely split you open. She bit her lip as she slowly began to thrust in and out of you.
You were exactly as she fantasized in bed — obedient, submissive, and loud. And god, you were so gorgeous when you were being fucked. She leaned in again to capture your swollen lips into a short kiss before she focused again on fucking you with her strap.
Your moans and whimpers were a symphony to her ears. She felt like she could cum just hearing you absolutely get wrecked by her.
You couldn't control the volume of your voice. Alexia was extremely skilled in bed. Her thrusts were fast and hard but incredibly precise, pressing against your sensitive spot with every push she did inside you. There was too much pleasure rippling through your body to give a fuck about the neighbor's hearing.
And you just couldn't stop moaning out her name. It felt so good in your mouth to say it over and over again. 
"Yeah, keep moaning out for me, cariño," Alexia said as she picked up the pace of her thrusts. 
You felt a tad of pain as she became rougher with her thrusts but it was a good kind of pain. Alexia grunted as she held on to your waist with her hands. 
It didn't take long until your pussy was clenching around her strap and you were practically shaking as your orgasm built up for the second time that night.
"You're all mine," Alexia slurred out in between heavy breathing. "This pussy is only mine."
You moaned out in agreement. "Yes, Alexia, yours. I'm yours."
With one strong thrust, you came undone. You screamed out her name again for the nth time before falling limp underneath her. Alexia pulled out and gave you a kiss. 
You couldn't find the energy or brain power to speak. So, you just held Alexia close, your heavy breathing synchronizing with each other. You sighed.
You just knew then and there that you've fallen hard for Alexia Putellas.
⋆˙⟡♡ You woke up to an empty bed, blinking a few times as the soreness in your body set in. You groaned, stretching, and only then did you realize you were still naked. Flushing, you glanced around, noticing Alexia must be in the kitchen from the faint sounds of cooking.
Quickly, you found your underwear on the floor and pulled it on, then grabbed one of Alexia’s football shirts from her closet to slip into.
With a soft smile, you tiptoed over to her and wrapped your arms around her waist from behind. “Good morning,” you murmured.
She chuckled, “Careful, cariño. Sneak up on me like that, and I’ll cut my finger instead of this tomato.”
You hummed, ignoring her and just hugging her tighter. "Breakfast?" 
She laughed. "I think someone enjoyed last night way too much to realize it's already noon." She smiled. "This is already lunch."
You blushed and let go of Alexia, getting out of the way of her cooking. You sat down on the counter and watched her do her thing in the kitchen. She looked like she already got up and took a bath as she was wearing new clothes.
"You took a bath without me?" You jokingly asked with feigned disappointment and a pout.
Alexia smirked. "Sorry, I couldn't stand the thought of waking you up when you looked so pretty sleeping naked in my bed. I'll be sure to invite you to join me next time." She glanced at you again, realizing you were wearing another one of her older Barça shirts. "Hmm, you seem to like wearing my kits, huh?"
You smiled. "Love your name on me."
Alexia's lips curled into a smile before giving you a peck on the lips. "You can have it. I just love seeing it on you," She set down the cooking supplies and leaned in to give you a deeper kiss. "But I love seeing me inside you more."
You playfully smacked her arm. She continued to cook as you picked on the leftover tomatoes on the cutting board to snack on them. 
You hummed playfully. "So, Ale..." You started.
"Hmm?" She replied, focusing on cooking.
"So... last night you said you thought about fucking me when you first saw me..." You brought up with a playful smirk.
Alexia chuckled. "Your turn to tease me, huh?"
"I'm just asking." 
"Well, of course, I did..." She responded. "Couldn't stop thinking of your little lace undies."
You blushed, recalling how you fell on your face and exposed yourself to her. "Hey, you're teasing me now again."
She laughed, stirring the sauce. “You’re just easy and fun to tease.” As she finished, she dished up two plates of pasta, setting them on the table.
"Hmm, then what was all that 'you're so young' and 'you remind me of my little sister figure' talk about." You brought it up, casually.
Alexia hummed as she placed a healthy portion of food on two plates. She placed it on the dining table, contemplating your question. She finally headed up to you, taking your hand and leading you to the dining table.
As she sat, she took a deep breath. "Well... I didn't want to scare you off just in case you weren't into me." She said. "And... I guess I was trying to remind myself that you were — I mean, you are — too young for me."
You hummed, giving her a reassuring smile. “Our age gap isn’t that big, you know. I’m an adult.” You reassured her and partly, yourself. 
She smiled gently but shrugged. “I know, but we’re in different stages of our lives, you know? It made me hesitate.” She explained. 
You nodded, feeling her words sink in. After a pause, you asked. “And with that tattooed girl… why’d you call me a ‘clingy little kid’ that night?”
Alexia’s face grew serious. “That was just a dumb mistake." She said, pausing to use a paper towel to wipe her mouth. "I was drunk, and I was with my ex—I hadn’t seen her in a long time. I didn’t think about how it would make you feel if you heard it."
“Oh… was that your ex-fiancée?” You asked cautiously.
Alexia shook her head. “No, no, my ex-fiancée and I would never hang out." She chuckled. "That was Jenni. We’re good friends and we were just catching up after not seeing each other for long... but yeah… I was stupid. I shouldn’t have said that.”
You nodded slowly, a lot of questions swirling in your mind—questions about her past, what last night meant, if your age still bothered her. But you decided to let it go, not wanting to ruin the moment. 
⋆˙⟡♡ "You ghosted me for a month and now, you're telling me that you're dating a pro soccer player?" Your best friend Ashley shouted over FaceTime. "Are you nuts?!" 
You hushed her as you stood from your bed to shut the door. "My aunt is right outside my room."
"Who cares? She's cool and probably would be gushing with me right now if she knew!" Ashley exclaimed. 
You chuckled. "Just shhh. I haven't told anyone about Alexia cause we aren't really dating."
Ash's face fell in shock. "Huh? Then what are you doing?"
You sighed before going on to tell her the whole story — the day you fell in front of her, the grocery runs, the night you saw her with Jenni, the night at the club, and of course, last night when you slept together. Ash was practically exclaiming and shouting every other minute in shock and excitement.
"Okay, okay, girl, I just looked her up and hot damn, you're telling me you slept with THAT?" Ash pointed her phone camera to her MacBook screen which displayed a photo of Alexia celebrating in her sports bra during a football match. 
You chuckled. "Oh... Ash, her abs... they were so firm and hot up close. I felt like I was going crazy."
The two of you geeked over how hot Alexia was for a few minutes before calming down. Ashley sighed. "But babe, like, I want you to be careful still cause like... she hasn't really said that she likes you yet, right?"
You blinked and thought about it and realized Ashley seemed to be right. She did say she wanted you and she did say you were "all hers" in bed and that she thought about you sexually from the moment you met... but there were no explicit mentions of her feelings.
"Hmm, yeah, I could read from your expression that she hasn't..." Ash commented. "I know she's sweet and fun but just be cautious, okay? I can't afford to lose my best friend to another gap year cause of another heartbreak." She joked.
You chuckled weakly. "No, no, I mean, I'm taking it slow. I'm not that invested yet." You lied. You were pretty much all in with Alexia at this point.
Ashley nodded. "Okay, that's good. Just enjoy having fun with your older woman but just be careful. Okay, babes?"
You sighed and nodded. "Yeah, of course."
Ash hummed and stayed silent for a beat before asking, "So... about this Patri girl, I just googled her too, and wow..." 
You chuckled and continued bantering with Ashley, trying to push your insecurities to the back of your head. 
⋆˙⟡♡ You woke up to your phone ringing. You blinked your eyes open and took a glance at the phone. "Hmmm," You groaned out before answering. "Yeah?"
It was Alexia.
"Cariño, come over, please." Her voice was low and sultry. You hummed into the phone mic, sleepily. Alexia chuckled at the sound of it. "Aw, did I wake you up, my love? I'm so sorry."
"Hmm, yeah. Is everything okay?" You mumbled out.
She had a short chuckle. "I just need to taste you, cariño. I need you so bad." Her voice came out in a needy, low tone that made your insides churn.
You took a deep breath and blinked the remaining sleepiness away. "Okay, I'll just get dressed up." You said with a yawn. "I'm still in my pajamas."
"No, baby, I'm undressing you anyway. Just come over, cariño." She begged. You smiled at the sound of her voice; she sounded so desperate and needy.
"Okay, got it." You chuckled.
⋆˙⟡♡ Alexia wasn't lying because as soon as you entered her apartment, your clothes were practically off your body and on the floor.
Alexia had pinned you against the front door, too impatient to even take you to her bedroom. You watched the blonde woman kneel in front of you as she pressed her mouth on your core, licking and flicking her tongue against the most sensitive part of your clit.
You grabbed her head and rocked your hips against her mouth, making Alexia hum in pleasure. She spread her tongue flat against your wetness, taking it all in before focusing again on your clit.
"Fuck, I could do this everyday." You muttered out.
⋆˙⟡♡ And you did do it... almost every day.
It could be early in the morning, in the middle of the day, or even late at night. Alexia would text you and you always found your way to her bed... or her couch, or her floor, her shower, her kitchen counter, her table. You two fucked so much that you felt like you were losing brain cells with how she left you so mind-fucked every time.
⋆˙⟡♡ On more than one occasion, you wanted to bring up your feelings for Alexia and how you wanted more than just sex out of your relationship but you always chickened out.
You figured you could talk about it some other time.
⋆˙⟡♡ Yet, the opportunity never really arose. Whenever you two were together, nothing seemed to leave your lips except her name and a string of incoherent moans. It was fun and exciting but sometimes, it also left you feeling insecure about your place in her life.
⋆˙⟡♡ "Look who's back home at 5 in the morning," Your aunt jokingly tutted her tongue as she watched you enter the apartment in clothes you borrowed from Alexia. You thanked heavens you didn't wear one of her kits with her name on it or else, you would have been figured out. "And is it safe to assume you didn't come from the grocery with that heavy cream I asked to buy you two days ago?"
You blushed as you saw your aunt judging you as she sipped her morning coffee. "Hi, Aunty..." You said softly. "I can go get that later once the supermarket opens. I'm sorry I totally forgot about it."
She shook her head. "How did you go from doing all the errands like a maniac to doing none of it?" She joked. "See, I don't mind that you're running around with some girl... clearly, it's making you happy."
You bit your lip and tucked a hair behind your ear. She continued, "Just make sure you're doing errands like you agreed to, or else I'm shipping you back to your momma."
You nodded. "Sorry, auntie."
⋆˙⟡♡ "Come over, cariño 😚" The message notification popped up on the top of your screen as you were reading the list of things your aunt wanted you to pick up from the grocery.
You sighed and texted Alexia, telling her you had to do some errands. You smirked as you read her reply. "Okay, I'll drive you there only if you agree to ride my face later."
You rolled your eyes and chuckled.
⋆˙⟡♡ Alexia had her hand on your thigh as she drove to the nearby supermarket, gently feeling your skin as she moved it up and down your thigh.
"Alexia, if you keep doing that, we won't end up getting the groceries." You said as you held her hand steady on your thigh. She smirked at you and said, "I'm fine with that."
You chuckled and ignored her.
⋆˙⟡♡ Alexia couldn't get her hands off of you. She'd have her hands on your waist as you tried to get stuff from the shelves. She would kiss you on the cheek randomly. Even as you were pushing the cart, she would have her body pressed behind you, resting her head on your shoulder as you pushed the cart together.
Thankfully, there weren't many people but the people who were there were taking notice of how clingy and affectionate Alexia was being.
"Cariño, you smell so good. I wanna smell you all over and put my face against your..." Alexia whispered in your ear as she rested her head on your shoulder. You playfully elbowed her and swatted her away.
"Ale, people can hear you." You said with an eye roll.
She hummed as she pressed her lips against your ear. "Baby, I just want you so bad. I don't care if anyone hears about how much I want to..."
"Alexia?" A voice from the far end of the aisle called. Alexia practically jumped away from you as soon as you two heard the voice. You turned your attention to the tall, blonde girl at the end of the aisle.
Alexia cursed under her breath but raised her hand to greet the girl who came walking towards you. "Frido, hey." Alexia greeted, straightening herself up. "What's up?"
The tall girl hugged Alexia and then turned her attention to you. "And who is this pretty girl you're with, Alexia?" She smiled at you before turning to Alexia with raised eyebrows.
Alexia looked at you with a panicked expression before turning back to Frido. "Oh, she's my neighbor. I gave her a ride to the grocery." She explained before changing the topic. "And who are you here with?"
Alexia and the taller girl, who you inferred was a teammate, started chatting a bit more but all you could think about was how Alexia introduced you
⋆˙⟡♡ After you loaded her car with groceries, you immediately headed to the passenger seat and slammed the door behind you.
Alexia had taken notice of your change in demeanor. She entered the car and looked at you with a confused look. "Why are you mad?"
You hummed and ignored her. She sighed and began driving. She tried to put a hand on your thigh but you swatted her away, which seemed to piss her off.
"What's your problem?" She snapped.
"I don't know, maybe neighbors just don't touch each other's thighs like that." You retorted, annoyed.
Alexia groaned. "Don't tell me you're mad at me because of that."
"Why wouldn't I be mad, Alexia?" You responded with a raised voice. "You and I have been fucking for weeks. We cuddle. We have dinner. We kiss and fuck and spend so much time together. Not to mention that before all that, we were already practically together all the time... and I'm just your neighbor?"
Alexia's eyebrows furrowed together. "I don't see the big deal. Frido's my co-worker and I just don't feel like airing out my sex life randomly to people I work with."
You groaned. "Don't you get it? You don't need to tell people we're fucking. You can just say we're dating, seeing each other... I don't know. Even just calling me your friend is better than being called your neighbor."
Alexia clenched her jaw and shook her head in disbelief. "This is the problem with dating younger girls..." She muttered under her breath.
This just drove you over the edge. "What does my age have to do with this?" You shouted as you glared at her. "Last time I checked, you were the one who said our age difference didn't matter to you."
Alexia groaned. "You're just being so immature. Why does it matter so much what I said to Frido? She's just my co-worker. Of course, if some other girl came over to flirt with me, I'd say I'm seeing someone already. That's when the distinction matters."
"How would you react if someone I knew from school came over and I just called you my neighbor?" You retorted.
"I wouldn't give a fuck," She responded. "Cause I'm mature enough to know it doesn't matter."
You snapped. "Well, maybe that's cause you don't actually care about me." You could feel your voice crack as you said it but you stopped yourself from getting emotional.
Alexia groaned and grew more exasperated. "See? This is your problem. I don't air out my personal business and suddenly you think I don't care about you..."
"Well, do you, Alexia?" You stared at her, with tears threatening to fall from your eyes. "All you ever want to do now is fuck. You don't ever tell me how you feel about me. You never even mentioned once that you liked me... and I can't recall the last time you complimented me in a way that wasn't about my body or looks. You might care but not enough."
Alexia groaned but tried to compose her thoughts before responding to you, not wanting to frustrate you even more. "Obviously, I like you but I just..." She trailed off. "I don't know if I'm ready for what you want."
You looked at the older woman with an incredulous look. You were at a loss for words. You felt a tear fall but you just wiped it off and shook your head, dryly chuckling.
She parked the car and took a deep breath. "Cariño, just because I'm not ready to commit yet... doesn't mean I don't care or like you." She explained patiently as she turned to look at you. "I just... think what we have now is good. Please, can we just calm down?"
You stayed silent, waiting for her to tell you she liked you more than just physically or to tell her you mattered to her. You didn't know exactly what you wanted to hear but you just wanted reassurance that you weren't just some secret fuck buddy to her.
Alexia groaned exasperatedly at your silence before unbuckling her seatbelt and leaning towards you, grabbing your face to kiss you. But instead of kissing her, you put a hand on her shoulder to stop her.
"Goodbye, Alexia." And with that, you left.
⋆˙⟡♡ After your frustrating exchange with Alexia, you demanded your groceries and insisted on carrying them up yourself, not wanting to talk to her for a while. 
So, with two arms loaded with grocery bags, you clumsily stormed into the apartment, causing a couple of things to fall out of the bag. You groaned exasperatedly. "Fuck this shit."
"Guess the coupon didn't work out at the supermarket, huh?" You nearly jumped at the voice. You turned to see your aunt sitting on the couch, sipping coffee. 
You sighed deeply, not answering as you were still distraught over the realization that after all this time, Alexia never returned your feelings. You doubted yourself, thinking maybe you were immature and childish for reacting like that but you couldn't help but be overwhelmed with insecurities. 
Your aunt took note of your gloomy demeanor as she stood up from the couch to help you out with the groceries. "Darling, are you alright?" She said as she took the bags from you.
You looked up at your aunt and just shook your head. She immediately put the bags down on the nearby counter and took you in for a hug.
⋆˙⟡♡ As you unloaded your groceries with your aunt, you also decided it was time to let her know about what was going on. She was always the cool aunt, growing up. She was never judgmental or preachy; she often said something like "How could I be judgemental when I was way worse than you when I was a kid?" So, you figured that if there was anyone you could go to for advice, it would be her.
You kept the details vague though, not totally willing to disclose the fact that the girl you were seeing was Alexia. You just said you met an older woman while walking Ruby and you two hit it off. You recounted all the memories of you two hanging out, doing groceries, walking, or even just doing laundry.
"It felt domestic, at some point." You told your aunt. "It felt like we were dating even if we hadn't hinted that we liked each other. It felt even more intimate than when I was with my ex, y'know. It really felt... I don't know, close to her."
Your aunt nodded, understandingly. She continued to listen as you told her about running into Jenni and what Alexia said. Then, you told her about the nightclub incident, keeping details and identities vague. "And while I was dancing with the girl I met at the counter, she suddenly grabbed me and pulled me away and dragged me out of the club."
Your aunt's eyes widened. "She did what?!" She exclaimed, almost comically loud. You chuckled and continued, "Yeah, and I got really mad at her for it but then she suddenly kissed me."
You continued telling your aunt about the kiss and how you finally got to admit your attraction for each other. Then, you told her how started spending your time together in a more intimate manner, completely leaving behind the cutesy domestic aspect you've grown accustomed to.
You cringed a bit, talking to your aunt about your sex life but she didn't seem that bothered. "So, you went from playing house together to just fucking each other's brains out, got it." Your aunt said, making you chuckle.
You then tell her the reason as to why you were alone and angrily hauling paper bags full of grocery. She nodded along, seeming to be in deep thought. When you finished telling her your story, you sighed. 
"So, yeah... I just got so annoyed by the whole 'neighbor' comment, the fact that she said I was immature because of my age, and how she didn't even bother to clarify that she liked me beyond the physical aspect. There was no reassurance that I could mean more to her than just someone to have fun with." You explained. "And when we argued, it felt like she knew exactly what my insecurities were with our relationship — well, situationship — and just had to pick at those."
Your aunt nodded, understandingly. "If it was just the grocery thing with her co-worker, I would have said you were acting immature too but I get that it was all the other factors together that just made you snap." She sympathized. 
You nodded. "Yeah, I think I would have calmed down if she didn't make the comment about my age. It just felt like a pick at my deepest insecurity with our relationship, that I'm too young and immature for her... and the fact that she didn't want to commit or even just reassure me about us."
You sighed deeply. "It just made me feel so unsure of myself, which I was already feeling ever since we made our relationship mostly physical."
Your aunt sighed. "Well, if you ask me, I think it's better she showed you her intentions now than later, right?" You nodded in response.
"So, just rest a few days, and assess your feelings. Don't shut her out completely," Your aunt said. "I think you should give her a chance without her knowing that you're giving her a chance, if that makes sense. Just wait a couple days and if she reaches out to you and apologizes and tells you that she values you as a person, and possibly, a future partner, then go for it."
You sighed, thankful for your aunt's advice. You took her in for a hug, feeling comfort with the fact that you could really run to her with your problems. 
Your aunt patted your back. "I'm sure you'd figure it out. Besides, I feel like she'd cool off in just a few days and apologize. Athletes just tend to have a reactive temper, I guess."
You froze at her comment. "But I never told you..."
She chuckled. "Well, your reaction just told me now."
⋆˙⟡♡ That very night, Alexia texted you just as you were about to get in bed. 
"Cariño, come over." You rolled your eyes, knowing exactly what this text meant and you weren't exactly in the mood to fuck and forget about it.
Another text. "Let's make up, please. I miss you." 
"Cariño, are you still mad?" 
"I'll make it up to you pls."
You sighed, not a single text about talking it out or apologizing for how she acted. You put your phone on silent and just decided you'd reply once she texts you for more than a booty call.
⋆˙⟡♡ You were on your early morning run with Ruby when your phone started ringing. You rolled your eyes at the caller ID. It was Alexia.
As soon as the rings stopped, you got a text. "Come over, Cariño." 
You rolled your eyes again. Is this the only phrase she's capable of? What happened to "hey" or "i'm sorry"? 
As if reading your mind, you get another text. "I'm sorry."
You hummed in satisfaction but figured that you still needed a bit more time to think it out and consider your emotions. You didn't want to talk it out while you weren't ready.
⋆˙⟡♡ Late at night, you considered messaging Alexia that you two should talk but you still felt a bit of uneasiness and uncertainty with it. Plus, you felt that if you went to Alexia at this time of night, she'd get the wrong message. 
⋆˙⟡♡ But apparently, even if you headed to Alexia's apartment now, you wouldn't find her there anyway.
You squinted at the Instagram story that the nearby lesbian club posted and saw a familiar figure in the background of one of the videos. You swore it was Alexia.
So, you did some digital investigating. Since Alexia was never the type to post on social media. You looked through Patri's Instagram story. Nothing. You went to Mapi's Instagram. Nothing. It was only on Ingrid's account that you found something of interest.
It was just a video of Ingrid with her arm around Mapi as they sang along to a song you weren't familiar with but in the background, you could see Alexia chatting up a shorter brunette girl.
You figured you might be overreacting but you couldn't help but feel jealous and annoyed. You were here, mulling over your relationship while she was out partying and maybe flirting with other girls.
The rational thing was to consider maybe it was just another night out with teammates, enjoying the break from football. But a part of you just felt annoyed and jealous. 
I'll sleep it off, you thought. If she messages tomorrow, whatever it is, I'll reply that we should talk then. No use in delaying it anymore.
⋆˙⟡♡ Tomorrow came and there was no message. You pouted and went about your errands. 
Afternoon, nothing. Dinner time, nothing.
You practically stalked the entire Barça team but most of them didn't post anything aside from Ingrid who just posted a couple more photos with Mapi and another with Alexia. Nothing too incriminating.
Still, you couldn't help but get annoyed that she gave up trying to reach out to you.
⋆˙⟡♡ The next day came, and then the next, and the next, and no message from the blonde Catalan.
You felt like you were reverting to your "bed rotting and mopping around with Ruby" routine as the days passed. You wanted to talk to Alexia so bad and you wanted to kiss her and hold her but you just knew deep inside, that it would be better if she made the first move in having a conversation about your relationship.
You sighed as you tapped through Instagram stories again, having nothing better to do. You paused when you reached Patri's Instagram story. 
After that night at the club, you haven't exactly reached out to her considering your situation with Alexia but... Patri was always at the back of your mind.
You hesitated, pausing to consider. Would it be messy to hit up Alexia's teammate after everything we've done?
You bit your lip. Well, Alexia and I never dated and as far as anyone is concerned, there's nothing between us. No one, except maybe Frido, has a clue that we're romantic. 
You corrected yourself. Romantic? Am I insane? There was nothing actually romantic about it. It was purely physical, especially towards the end. 
You sighed. I just want someone who wants to date me and invest in me romantically. Is that too much to ask?
Your night flashed back to the club with Patri. While you didn't get the chance to talk much, she seemed attentive and interested in everything you were saying. Plus, she was also incredibly attractive. It wouldn't hurt to give it a shot.
But the thought of Alexia lingered. You knew that it might be unfair to her — how you never talked it out with her while sliding into her teammate's DMs. It could really hurt her.
...But then again, she never really made the effort to talk it out anyway. And, if you were keeping count, she hurt you first. You take a deep breath. 
Fuck it. Alexia's not my girlfriend. I can do whatever the fuck I want.
⋆˙⟡♡ You didn't expect Patri to respond until the next day since you were certain she had a bunch of other DMs from fans.
But it didn't even take half an hour for her to reply, already talking about where she'd take you out on a date. You smiled, grateful that she was willing to still date you even after what happened.
⋆˙⟡♡ Patri took you to a tapas place. Even if you were the one who asked her out, she insisted that she pick you up; she even brought you a delicate bouquet of pink and white flowers. 
She was basically everything a girl could ask for, opening doors for you and letting you sit first, being polite and attentive to you
It didn't hurt that her playful flirtatiousness from the club was still intact. When she met you at the lobby, she gave you a whistle, reacting favorably to the tight dress you were wearing. She also seemed to love guiding you by putting a hand behind your back or your waist. You felt it was a good balance of being polite and being subtly flirty and sensual. 
⋆˙⟡♡ As you were eating and drinking, Patri finally brought up the single thing you didn't want to talk about at all.
"Okay, so I've got to ask." She furrowed her eyebrows. "Why did Alexia drag you out of the club that night? I was confused cause I didn't even see you two talk before that and she was suddenly dragging you away from me. I asked Mapi about it but she said she was too busy cuddling up with Ingrid to pay attention to anything else."
You sighed. You knew this question was inevitable but you still hated having to talk about it. "Alexia is actually my neighbor." You responded.
Patri nodded and chuckled, still visibly confused. "Okay? And?"
You chuckled back. "Well, we hung out sometimes and she told me that I reminded her of your younger teammate, Jana..." You continued. You weren't exactly lying but you did feel like you were circumventing the truth. "So, I guess she was protective of me somehow? I don't know..."
Patri nodded. "Hmm, did she tell you anything about me?"
You shook your head. "Uh, no... she was pretty drunk so I don't think she was thinking straight that night."
Patri paused and took a swig of her sangria. For a moment, you thought she'd seen through your lie version of the story. 
Patri sighed. "I still think what she did was so random but... I guess, it might be because she doesn't trust me enough in the relationship department." She chuckled.
Patri briefly explained that she once dated another younger teammate and it ultimately ended up sour when Patri grew bored of the relationship and broke up with the girl, leaving the younger player distraught. It affected the team dynamic for a while but she said it didn't take them long to recover from it. 
"I figured that maybe that could be the reason." Patri nodded, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "She didn't reply to me when I asked but I mean, Alexia barely checks her phone so..." She laughed.
You took a deep sigh of relief. She didn't figure you out; she seemed more concerned about the fact that Alexia might have warned you that she wasn't ideal dating material. "Yeah, I guess that's it... she was drunk and we didn't exactly talk about it after." Again, you weren't exactly lying when you said that.
Patri nodded. "But I hope you don't let that change the way you see me. I swear, that whole thing was just blown out of proportion. I wasn't being mean to her; I just try to be honest with the people I date." She explained with a shrug. "I mean, what's the point of lying?"
You felt a lump form in your throat but just forced a smile, nodding.
⋆˙⟡♡ In the next week, you spent more time with Patri, having lunches or going for random café runs. When you were apart, you were still texting each other stupid memes and TikToks or just chatting about everything under the sun.
It was fun being around her. She was so funny and easy-going. It felt like dating a friend. But the best part of it was that, even if you just started dating, she was very forward about how she felt about you.
⋆˙⟡♡   You went on a random afternoon date to a cute gelato place you passed by once on one of your walks with Ruby. You briefly mentioned it to Patri in a passing conversation but she remembered and took you there the next day. 
You hummed in delight when you tasted the pistachio ice cream. "Oh, this is so good." You exclaimed. She smiled at you and looked at you with soft, admiring eyes.
You blinked. "What?"
"Nothing," She chuckled. "I just... like spending my time with you. I think I really like you..."
You smiled back. "I like spending time with you too."
She paused to eat a spoonful of ice cream. "Who knew that the hot girl I was grinding on from the bar would have me acting all nervous to tell her that I like her?" She joked. 
You laughed and shook your head at her silly statement. With Patri, everything seemed easy. No doubts or second thoughts. She was always quick to remind you she liked you, not leaving any room for questioning.
Yet, deep inside, you could still feel yourself yearning for Alexia. Your relationship might have been tumultuous and uncertain but she made you feel things. Everything felt fiery and passionate and overwhelming... and you just craved for that intensity again.
⋆˙⟡♡ "Okay, do you want pizza or something else?" You asked Patri as you lay on her couch, scrolling through food options on the Deliveroo app. 
Patri lifted your feet up and sat down, placing them on her lap. She rubbed your feet as she contemplated her options. "Hmm, are you on the menu?" 
You chuckled and playfully pushed her with your foot. "You're so gross, Patri." 
She continued rubbing your feet. You realized that you have been seeing Patri for almost two weeks already and you still haven't done anything beyond kissing. You reasoned out to yourself that it may be because you two usually spent your time outside her place but you knew deep inside, something else was holding you back.
"Hmm," Patri hummed loudly. 
"Yes, Miss Guijarro? Is there a problem?" You asked, looking away from your phone to give her an eyebrow raise.  
She shook her head. "Nothing... you just didn't answer the question..."
You smiled in amusement. "I did... I said you were gross." You retorted. Patri pouted and gave you a disappointed face which you just laughed at. You rolled your eyes. "Hmm... ask me again after dinner."
Patri practically beamed. "Okay, just order whatever pizza then. I don't want to delay dinner any further." She joked.
You chuckled at her silliness. "So, what movie did you say we should watch again?"
"I was going to recommend that we watch this horror movie, The Woman in Black, but I don't think that will set the mood I want to set." Patri chuckled. You nodded, recalling the movie and how Alexia mentioned that it was recommended by a teammate. 
Of course, it was Patri. She did say she loved horror movies.
You nodded. "Let's just watch something else. I hate horror movies." And being reminded of Alexia.
She chuckled. "Yeah, okay, my teammates didn't like it too. Pina and Jana practically hated me when I made them watch it when they came over." She recalled before turning to you to smile. "You really should meet them. They're fun. You'd love them."
You just nodded along, feeling hesitant. You didn't know if it was a good idea meeting any more of their teammates, scared that maybe Alexia had mentioned something to someone and word would get out about this whole complex situation.
So, you changed the topic. "Okay, got us a large pizza with some soda. That good?"
⋆˙⟡♡ You and Patri were going out on another date at a new club near her place. It started off well. You tried some unique cocktails and got to chatting about your college life and Patri's own experience back when she was still studying.
Two drinks down and you were already starting to feel tipsy but you figured that was no problem. After all, you were with Patri who was responsible enough to take care of you if you did end up wasted.
In the middle of your conversation, Patri paused to check her phone. "Oh, by the way, I hope you don't mind but I told Jana that she should come over. She's in the area and she said before that she wanted to meet you."
Your heart dropped. "What?"
"Jana, my teammate." Patri clarified, speaking in a higher volume as the music had gotten a bit louder. "She's really fun so no worries."
You blinked, feeling a bit anxious. "You told her about me? She's going here?" 
Patri looked confused. "Yeah? She's my friend. Don't you want to meet her?"
You sighed and started to overthink. You felt like it was irrational to feel this nervous about meeting her teammate.
You didn't want to admit it but deep down, you knew that if you met Patri's friends and teammates, it would solidify to them that you were Patri's girl. 
The fact that Mapi and Ingrid already saw you two flirting back in the club didn't help. Now, a bunch of other people in her team knew about you. Soon, it would be solidified to everyone that you were Patri's... and somehow, you didn't want that. 
Because that meant you were erasing your chance with Alexia. What if, at the end of it all, you decided to choose Alexia? Then, it would just seem like you were a slut or that you used Patri.
But you did use Patri. You used her to forget about Alexia.
The nagging voice in your head repeated over and over, making you feel overwhelmed with the gnawing feeling of guilt. 
"Do you not want to meet my friends?" Patri asked again, bringing your attention back to her.
"I- I just..." You started getting frustrated, not with her but with yourself. "I don't think I want to do that right now."
She looked at you confused. "Why?"
You shook your head. "I don't know. I just... why would you tell them about me?" You asked in a raised tone. It was sinking into you just how rude you sounded; you could have made up some excuse about wanting to spend time alone. But you just had to be too emotional and now, it was too late to take your words back.
The calm expression on Patri's face turned to that of disbelief. "Am I not supposed to tell my friends about the girl I'm dating?"
You sighed. You knew she was in the right. In any other normal scenario, it wouldn't be such a big deal to introduce your date to a friend.  But, you just couldn't rationalize to yourself why you felt so annoyed and anxious about it. "I just... I'm not ready for this Patri. I'm sorry."
Patri tried chasing after you but you waved her off. You were too overwhelmed with emotions and thoughts you could never explain to her. 
⋆˙⟡♡ The combination of alcohol, anxiety, and guilt had left you shedding tears inside the taxi cab on the way to your apartment.
You liked Patri. You really liked her a lot.
But... with Alexia, it was different. She made you feel like your heart was doing flip-flops. She made you feel so warm from the inside. You don't think anything can replace the feeling of being with Alexia. She was... something else.
You loved the way she took care of you — cooking you meals, carrying everything for you, making you feel good. You loved her kisses, her touch. You loved how she looked at you; you couldn't put into words how Alexia Putellas' gaze could make someone feel. 
It hurt admitting all of this to yourself because you knew Alexia never felt the same about you.
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⋆˙⟡♡ After the grocery incident, Alexia felt annoyed and angry at you for blowing up the way you did. She felt like it was such an overreaction to what she said. 
But most of all, she hated how you questioned her feelings for you. After all the casual dates, the daily walks with your dogs, the grocery or laundry runs, the nights spent cuddling, the breakfasts she'd thanklessly prepar for you as you slept soundly in her bed just cause you mentioned you loved waking up to the smell of pancakes... she felt it was overlooked. 
She did like you. She liked you a lot, more than anyone she's ever messed around with. But she wasn't ready for a relationship with you, or anyone at all. She just never desired that ever again.
Not after Olga left her.
She didn't know if she could ever recover from another heartbreak like that. She didn't know if she had enough strength left in her to handle another failed relationship.
⋆˙⟡♡ When Olga left Alexia, she felt like she could never be with someone like that again. She hated the rollercoaster of a relationship; she felt like she'd grown too tired of it already.
She usually settled for meaningless hook-ups, the occasional one-night stand. She was content knowing that that was the closest thing to intimacy she would get ever again.
⋆˙⟡♡ That was until you came along with your sundresses, your clumsiness, your sunny demeanor. She found it hilarious how you would find so many ways to be around her. It was becoming blatantly obvious you had a crush on her.
⋆˙⟡♡ Sure, she first thought of you as just someone she could hook up with; the physical attraction was there from the start. But you were so... innocent, oblivious to her touches and comments, her advances. She figured that maybe you weren't really into her like that, maybe you just loved being around her.
⋆˙⟡♡ So, she let it play out. You'd go on your morning walks, share a coffee at a café, go to the grocery, do the laundry... she enjoyed it a lot until she realized she might be developing feelings again for someone who might not like her like that. 
⋆˙⟡♡ And so she decided to slowly detach herself from you, not seeing you for a few days.
The only problem with trying to detach physically was that she never considered how you still managed to linger in her brain. She couldn't get you out of her head. You were in everything she saw. 
Making a cup of coffee? Oh, this was the brand of oat milk you liked. Doing laundry? Oh, this was the top you thought was cute on her. Even Nala was all out of sorts, possibly also missing Ruby. 
⋆˙⟡♡ So, she tried other things.
She called up her ex, Jenni, who happened to be in town for drinks and perhaps, some good old fun. It worked for a while. Jenni always knew how to get your mind off of things
But then, just before she entered her apartment that night, she saw you, looking so cute in your pajamas with sleepy eyes and Ruby by your side.
And suddenly, you were imprinted on her mind again. 
⋆˙⟡♡ Even when she was waking up to a debilitating hangover, all she could think about was if she was going to see you again that day.
She dreaded the thought of seeing you, knowing it would only remind her that she was growing attached to your presence. Yet, strangely, she also craved your presence. She missed walking your dogs together. She missed seeing you in your cute dresses, how you'd blush when she called you pretty.
She knew that she was risking getting further attached to you if she did spend more time with you but not being around you was so much worse than that.
⋆˙⟡♡ So, she walked Nala that afternoon during the time you'd usually take Ruby out for her poo time. But you weren't there. 
She'd go to the laundromat several times with just a couple shirts in hand, hoping to see you fussing with things that shrunk in the dryer. Again, nothing.
She'd send you a text about something dumb like the supermarket near you stocking up on your favorite oat milk but it was left on delivered.
She was getting frustrated. She did start the whole avoiding thing but the way you did it was so unsubtle, especially after she figured out that you were taking Ruby on walks at ungodly hours of the day. It was blatantly obvious you were avoiding her.
It was a sign for her to erase any thought of pursuing you, whether it be for some casual fun or something more. She felt you were so immature to be avoiding her like this, and she didn't have the energy to deal with that.
⋆˙⟡♡ When Mapi sent an invitation to the team group chat for a night out at Manuelas, Alexia was the first to say yes.
She figured she might as well get drunk and get laid that weekend, instead of staying at home wondering when the 22-year-old down the hallway would come out of her apartment to walk her dog. She felt so juvenile and naive thinking about shit like that.
She knew that going to a club, surrounded by hot girls would be enough to forget about you.
⋆˙⟡♡ But as soon she entered the club with her teammates, she saw you.
You were unbelievably close to some girl with her back turned on Alexia. She grew angry at the thought of you flirting with someone else. She grew even more frustrated when Mapi leaned over to whisper, "Looks like Patri already found her meal for tonight."
She was basically gritting her teeth at that point.
⋆˙⟡♡ She hated how you touched Patri's arm with unspoken intentions and hated how she could hear you laugh from two meters away at Patri's corny jokes. She hated how you barely acknowledged her even when she approached you, not even a single smile or nod. 
⋆˙⟡♡ She couldn't help herself that night. She spent several weeks trying to give you all these hints and advances just for you to reciprocate none of it. But here you were, grinding against her teammate who you barely even knew.
Soon, the alcohol in her system had taken over and the only agenda on her mind that night was you.
⋆˙⟡♡ One night with you was enough to drive Alexia feral. There was something about you that was addicting, something that drove her insane. 
She's slept with a lot of beautiful girls, and girls who were amazing in bed. But nothing compared to you.
⋆˙⟡♡ She had to have a taste of you every day, sometimes even more than just once a day.
She was a woman captivated. Even when you weren't around, all she could think about was pleasuring you and what she'd do to you as soon as you were around.
⋆˙⟡♡ One night, you were heavily making out on her bed.
She was slowly grinding her knee against your core, gearing up to take control again. But this time, you pulled away. "Alexia, can I make you feel good this time?" You looked at her with wide eyes.
She smiled at you. "Cariño, I already feel good just watching you." She tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. She planted a kiss against your temple. "Come on, just lay back down; I'll take care of you."
You pouted at her with puppy eyes. Her weakness. "Please? I can't promise that I'll be as good as you but I can try." You pleaded.
She chuckled. "No one is as good as me, cariño." She sighed, pausing to give you a kiss. "But if you insist."
You were overly excited, spreading her legs clumsily before diving in. She hummed as she felt your tongue press against her, lapping her entire core in such a careful and calculating manner.
Once you were more comfortable and familiar with her, you wrapped your mouth around her clit, sucking like she did with you. Alexia let out a soft moan, which was enough encouragement that you were doing well. 
Alexia stifled her moans as you continued to eat her out, alternating between sucking and licking. She grabbed onto your head, grinding on you as you continued to eat her out.
She moaned out your name as she felt the pleasure fill her entire body. As soon as she was wet enough, you inserted two fingers inside, steadily thrusting as you kept a quick and consistent pattern of licking around her clit.
Just with a few thrusts, she could feel her orgasm approaching. And as she came, she moaned out loud. "Uh, cariño, I love y—" 
She stopped herself from saying it, eyes wide at the realization. She looked down at you but you were still pressed between her legs, not hearing her little slip-up.
She bit her lip, feeling like she was approaching dangerous territory with you and her feelings again. She told herself that it was just the pleasure, the sudden rush of emotions that made her almost say it but she knew that wasn't the truth.
⋆˙⟡♡ From then on, she kept your interactions short and casual. No more extra frills. She'd hit you up whenever she wanted some fun or stress relief but she'd leave it to that.
You didn't go on any more dog walks or errand runs. She didn't want to do anything that reminded her of anything soft or romantic. She decided that she was going to limit it to just the physical.
⋆˙⟡♡ Naturally, it didn't take long until you were demanding for her to tell you how she felt.
She cursed, thinking she should have been more limiting about it. Why did she have to go with you to the grocery that day? If she hadn't, maybe she wouldn't be forced to contemplate her emotions on the spot.
⋆˙⟡♡ Of course, she liked you. She liked you more than she would have liked to. But, she knew that you were young and all that commitment stuff mattered to you and she just couldn't promise you that. 
⋆˙⟡♡ She didn't know how to make it right with you without having to lie to you by giving you some false sense of commitment.  She figured you would have moved on from it soon enough and you'd be back to spending your days all over each other again.
⋆˙⟡♡ But you didn't respond to her texts. You didn't answer her calls. You shut her out completely. It left her annoyed and mildly... upset.
"She's just another fuck buddy," She told herself on several occasions. "You'd find someone else soon."
⋆˙⟡♡ But she didn't. Every girl she talked to was boring. No one even remotely attracted her anymore, not even physically. Even when she went to her usual lesbian club, there was absolutely no one that caught her eye.
That's when she knew she was in trouble.
⋆˙⟡♡ Alexia still didn't want to confront her own emotions.
If she wasn't going to fuck her way around to forgetting you, she figured she would pour her time into friendship, as corny as it sounded.
She'd hang out a lot in Mapi and Ingrid's place but being the third wheel just reminded her of you again. She'd prepare dinner for her younger teammates and it would be a good distraction until they made the same stupid Tiktok references you made and played the same songs you listened to. It just felt so impossible to run away from the thought of you.
⋆˙⟡♡ Jana was helping Alexia wash the dishes after a spontaneous dinner at Alexia's home. Jana always had a fifth sense when it came to her teammates, and she could sense that Alexia needed company. 
"So, how've you been, Ale?" She asked, cautiously. "You seem different from your usual self.
Alexia hummed. "Just bored," She responded. "Wish football season would start soon so I won't be stuck alone at home all the time. And you? How's Jill?"
"She's great. She's coming over here this weekend to visit me and her friend from the Netherlands who is on Erasmus here." Jana beamed. "Her friend is pretty cute, Ale. We should set you up."
Alexia chuckled and shook her head. "If she's on Erasmus, that means she's way too young for me." She laughed. 
Jana frowned. "I mean, she's a bit younger than you but the age gap isn't that bad. It's just like Jill and me." She hummed at the thought of her girlfriend. "22 and 30... not that big an age gap, in my opinion."
Alexia sighed deeply. Great, another reminder of her.
"Think about it, Ale, it would be so cute. We can even invite Patri and her new girl!" Jana exclaimed, enthusiastically. "It would be my first time doing a triple date."
Alexia nodded and just continued washing the pot she used. "I didn't know Patri was dating anyone," Alexia commented. 
"Yeah, I stalked her girlfriend on Instagram and she's really pretty. I think they suit each other really well." Jana beamed as she absentmindedly continued to wipe on the same plate she'd been wiping for a while. "Just like I think this Dutch girl would suit you..."
Alexia shook her head in amusement and took the plate from Jana's hands. "Let's focus on the dishes for now." She joked, absolutely not interested in dating another college girl.
Jana's phone buzzed and she gasped. "Oh, Ale, we should go out tonight! Patri's at the new trendy bar with her girl." She exclaimed, looking at the text she got. "Ooh, I've been wanting this strawberry cocktail there."
Alexia pondered for a moment. She hasn't exactly hung out or talked to Patri since the club incident but she figured that if Patri had a new girlfriend, it would be water under the bridge for them. "Hmm, how far is it from here?"
"Let me check," Jana paused before gasping again.
"Wait, aw, look how cute they are! They're so adorable together." She gushed before showing her phone to Alexia. "Look, Ale. Isn't her girlfriend so pretty?"
Alexia nearly crushed the wine glass in her hand when she saw a selfie of you and Patri with your faces so close together. She blinked a couple times before setting down the wine glass and trying to retain composure.
Jana still noticed Alexia's weird reaction. "Why are you quiet? Don't you think she's such a massive babe?" She gushed, scrolling through the other photos Patri sent. "Patri's so lucky."
Alexia rubbed her face and sighed. "I just didn't know Patri was dating my neighbor." She said, trying to make her stunned reaction appear more natural.
Jana widened her eyes. "What a small world, oh my god! All the more reason we should go out tonight." She smiled. "I can even invite Pina since I think she's around the area too."
Alexia shook her head. "Nah, I'm good." She responded. "I forgot that I have a dental cleaning in the morning and I have to wake up early."
Jana pouted but didn't want to force Alexia. "Okay, I'll just tell them you send your best wishes." 
Yeah, best wishes. 
⋆˙⟡♡ As soon as Jana headed out, Alexia opened another bottle of wine. She didn't know how else to cope with learning that you had moved on so quick and started dating her friend.
Here she was, going crazy trying to forget about you while you were cozying up to her friend and teammate. And the fact that all her teammates probably knew about it before she did... it was unbearable.
This was what she wanted to avoid all along — the same destructive feeling she had when she ended things with her fiancée. But this time, you two never even dated. You only saw each other for a couple months and yet, she was completely distraught.
She chuckled dryly to herself, thinking about what her younger teammates would often joke about when talking about their own relationships. "That two-week-long lesbian situationship will send you to therapy." 
She always laughed it off, chalking it up to kids being dramatic. She never would have thought she'd be going through it too at her age. She finished the bottle and decided it wasn't enough; she had to have more to drink but there was nothing left in her apartment.
She sighed, thinking maybe it was time to cool it with the drinking. But she knew it would be easier to drown out her emotions with more alcohol.
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⋆˙⟡♡ You wiped your remaining tears as you entered the apartment building.
Fortunately, the cab driver didn’t catch your answer when he asked where you wanted to go, giving you extra time to cry as he initially drove to the wrong location. (Not that you could blame him—you were an American with no Spanish or Catalan skills, and your sniffling and tears likely didn’t help either.)
You straightened your dress up and tried to brush your hair with your fingertips. You didn't want your aunt to see you distraught again. One more breakdown over a girl and you were certain she was going to have you checked with one of her psych friends. 
And, you just felt pathetic having all of these feelings. You were so done with the tears, the frustration, the regret. It was more than you could handle. 
At least, I'm home now. I'm going to leave behind all the tears with that poor cab driver and genuinely, get my shit together. 
⋆˙⟡♡ But much to your dismay, once the elevator doors opened, you saw Alexia. 
You hated the cruelty of fate, forcing you to face each other again while you just cried your heart out about her in a cab. 
You kept your head low and considered just waiting for a different elevator. But Alexia laughed dryly and asked. "You're not getting in?"
You wanted to retort with a "and you're not getting out?" but you decided against it, knowing your voice would crack and give away the fact that you just bawled.
So, against better judgment, you got into an elevator with Alexia.
⋆˙⟡♡ Alexia couldn't quite see your face; all she knew was that you'd come home from a night out with Patri. She clicked her tongue, glancing at you before rolling her eyes.
"Not gonna press the button?" 
When you didn’t respond, she hit the button for your floor herself, stealing glances as she did. She wanted to curse out loud. She could barely see your face since you hovered close to the elevator door, and turned away from her—but the way your dress hugged your body stirred a familiar annoyance. How could you look that good, dressed up like that, for anyone but her?
"So, you're with Patri now, huh?" 
You stayed silent. Of course, word had gotten out to her that you were seeing her teammate. You were stupid for thinking lesbians wouldn't tell their friends about the girl they're seeing.
Alexia scoffed, pressing a tongue against the side of her cheek in annoyance. "So, you sleep with me... then you sleep with Patri... you got a Barça checklist I don't know about?"
Her words stung your chest. It felt like she was implying that you were a slut or that you were just interested in her or Patri because they were famous. 
"I didn't sleep with Patri..." You muttered out weakly. 
Alexia chuckled. "What? Scared she won't make you feel good as I did?" She taunted, feeling her step closer to your back.
This time, you felt tears fall down as she instigated you. You could tell she was drunk by the way she was slurring her words, maybe even more drunk than you were but you couldn't ever find a world where you would speak as harshly to her as she was to you.
"Huh, can't even answer." Alexia hummed. 
But it didn't take long for her to hear small sniffles. She furrowed her eyebrows before gently walking towards you to take a look at your face. You quickly pushed her away, not wanting her to see you this vulnerable again. The elevator doors opened and you walked out but she quickly grabbed you. 
She spun you around and her face softened at the sight of you crying. You tried again to swat her away. "Alexia, leave me alone." You croaked out.
She didn't let you go, keeping both hands on either side of you. "Hey, hey, what happened?" Her voice was more calm now. "Did Patri hurt you? What did she do? Why are you crying?"
You pushed her away again with more force, making her step back away from you. "Fuck, Patri didn't hurt me, Alexia! You did!" You said with a raised voice. "This is all your fault! So, you don't get to talk to me like that after you fucked everything up. Just... leave me alone."
Alexia reached out to hold your hand, keeping you from walking away. "I'm sorry." She said it sincerely. She hesitated for a while before wiping away the tears from your face.
She used both of her hands to cup your face. "Cariño, please don't cry anymore. I'm sorry... I'm sorry I hurt you." Her voice was soft.
You looked down at your shoes as Alexia continued to wipe away the tears on your cheeks. 
"I'm really sorry." She began apologizing again. "I should have talked to you about how I felt. I should have been more open about my past and why I was so scared to commit. Instead, I made you doubt that I ever liked you and that was wrong for me."
You gently removed Alexia's hands from your face and wiped the tears off yourself. "It's not just that, okay?" You said with a soft yet pointed tone.
"Tell me and I'll make it up to you." Alexia moved closer, putting a hand on your waist. 
You shrugged her away. "I just... I'm having it really good with Patri. She's funny and pretty; she's really a catch. And, she makes me laugh so much but she's also really nice to me. Like, attentive and sweet." You rambled on, still tipsy and incoherent from the alcohol in your system. "She's so good to me, Alexia. And I want to love her so bad. I want to be in a relationship with her and commit to someone who reassures me about their feelings so often that I wouldn't have time to question it."
Alexia stayed silent, knowing there was more left to be said.
You sniffled. "But all I want is you. I can't love anyone while you're there, at the back of my mind." You confessed, feeling your voice crack. "Even when you made me feel like shit, I wanted you. I still wanted to be in your arms and kiss you."
You wiped the tears that were running down your face. "It's unfair to someone as kind as Patri for me to be there with her but still be thinking about how much I want you... and that's all on you." You exclaimed, blaming her. "If only you were honest about all of this — even if you didn't like me — I'd get the chance to move on and I wouldn't be stuck thinking about you anymore."
Alexia stepped in to hold you in an embrace. She hushed you, brushing your hair and patting your head to comfort you. "I'm sorry, cariño." She whispered. "If I could redo it, I would."
"I was just... frightened by how I felt." She continued. "I didn't ever heal completely from my past relationship and it just left me scared of ever committing again. And, you came along and... you made me feel all the things."
You stood there, sniffling against Alexia's chest as she held you. "I just felt like accepting the fact that I was falling in love with you would be accepting the chance that you'd break my heart." Alexia sighed in shudders, feeling tears well up in her eyes as well. 
She looked down at you and you looked up at her, locking your eyes together. "I'm not making excuses. I just want you to know... I can change it all now. I can make it all better." Alexia whispered.
She leaned in closer. "I want to try again with you." She closed the space between you, taking your lips into hers gently. "Let me try again."
You breathed, averting your gaze away from her again. You couldn't decide on what to do but how could you think clearly now when all of your thoughts were becoming static noise. 
You wanted to give in, to try again with Alexia. After all, she was what you craved all along. But something inside you felt that that would be the wrong decision.
"I think I need to think about it." You looked up at her. "If we wanted to try and actually pursue something, we need to be serious about it. It would be the mature thing for me to do."
Alexia nodded and gave you a bittersweet smile. "Can always trust you to do that." She smiled before gently touching your face again. "Just give me one more kiss, just a kiss good night?"
You sighed before you nodded, letting her hold your waist in her hands. You locked eyes, taking in the moment and the proximity you had with each other. Then, your eyes both fluttered shut and you were kissing again. 
It felt good but it felt so different this time.
It felt like a goodbye.
⋆˙⟡♡ You woke up to your Aunt knocking on your bedroom door. "I made breakfast." She called out to you.
You blinked your eyes open and immediately felt the heaviness of your eyelids. You could instantly tell they were puffy from all the crying. You sighed and headed out to the dining room to have a meal.
"Damn, you look like some bees stung your eyes." Your aunt commented, making light of it. "You run into a beehive?"
No, just ran into a blonde footballer.
"Rough night," It was all you could say. 
Your aunt squeezed your shoulder. "We don't have to talk about it, if you don't want to. Don't worry." She said. "But if you want to... you know I'm just here."
⋆˙⟡♡ You were cleaning the dishes from breakfast when you heard the doorbell.
"I'll get it." Your aunt called out, signaling for you to keep doing the dishes. As soon as she opened the door, she cooed. "Ooh, quines flores més boniques! És para mi?"
Your aunt continued to talk to the person at the door as you washed the plates. When she shut the door, you turned to see who it was and were shocked to see your aunt holding a bouquet of various white flowers. 
Before you could even react, your aunt was reading the tag that came with it. "Huh, guess I got the wrong footballer in mind..." She commented.
You hurriedly set down the plates and ran to your aunt to grab the note from her and prevent her from reading any more of it. She just chuckled. 
It was from Patri. "I'm sorry for last night. I shouldn't have rushed our relationship. I'll give you space if you need it but I'm here for you always. -Patri"
You bit your lip, feeling the guilt in your heart grow tenfold. Patri was never in the wrong. Any girl would tell their friends about someone they've been seeing for weeks. You knew it was your fault and that she didn't get the treatment she deserved.
Yet she was the one sending you flowers. She was just too good for you.
⋆˙⟡♡ You were in bed, scrolling through Patri's Instagram and contemplating whether or not you should message. But what would you even say? I'm sorry. I'm in love with your teammate?
You wished you were honest from the start... or that you could just take it all back. Never come to Barcelona. Never experience this pain and guilt. Never meet Alexia. 
You put the phone down and decided to make yourself some tea to calm your nerves. Your aunt was in the living room, watching old clips from a Barcelona game. "That's the girl you're seeing, right?" She asked, pointing at Patri.
"Auntyyy," You groaned. "Why are you watching that?"
"I... wanna support my local club, y'know." She said with a shrug. "Can you make me a cup as well?"
You nodded, trying to ignore the screen that showed both Patri and Alexia; it was the last thing you needed. 
⋆˙⟡♡ Later on, there was another knock on the door. Your aunt offered to get it, pausing the video. 
You turned around curiously as you heard her chuckle. "Two in one day. Guess I should open up a flower shop." Your aunt commented, jokingly. "So... what can I help you with, neighbor?" 
"Is she home?" You heard that familiar voice. It was Alexia. You couldn't see her but you knew it was her. "I... got these for her."
You bit your lip, not knowing what to do. Your aunt looked over to you. Seeing the worried expression on your face, she turned back to Alexia. "I can tell her to call you later if she wants to."
"Thank you. Please tell her to call me whenever." Alexia's voice sounded disappointed. "And that I'm sorry."
As soon as your aunt closed the door, you saw that she was carrying another bouquet. This time, it was a large bouquet of peach and pink peonies. 
Your aunt looked at you with an incredulous look on her face. "Now, I think we need to talk."
⋆˙⟡♡ You and your aunt sat side-by-side on the living room couch with both bouquets on the coffee table in front of you and the TV still on pause with the Barça clips.
"Well, if you ask me, I like the peonies better." You aunt commented after a long moment of silence, still trying to bring some humor to the ridiculous situation you were in. "Did it come with a note?"
You shook your head. "Is that a sign or symbol of something? Are these a metaphor for something I'm missing?" You said, overthinking again.
"I think it's a sign for you to get your shit together," Your aunt said with a sigh. "Cause how is it that you've got two footballers sending you apology flowers in a day. What did they do?"
You shook your head and rested your head in your hands. "It's actually mostly my fault..." You said, muffling your own words with your hands as you felt yourself getting teary-eyed again. "I just feel so stupid."
Your aunt comforted you by rubbing your back. "It can't be that bad, darling. We'll talk it out and we'll find a way for it to get better."
⋆˙⟡♡ But it was that bad. 
You felt yourself wince and grow more and more annoyed with yourself as you recounted the events in detail. Your aunt was trying her best to be comforting but you could tell from her expression that even she was finding it all hard to believe. 
"And so, I just feel like I made a huge mistake." You sniffled as you finished telling her the entirety of what happened. "I didn't mean to lead Patri on. I genuinely felt like I would have moved on and actually be with her but Alexia..."
You looked at your aunt, who nodded understandably. "That's because your heart already chose her, " she shrugged. It sounds corny, but it happens. Once your heart claims someone, you can't easily force them out of there and replace them with someone else." 
You wiped the tears on your face. "I just feel so clueless and stupid right now because I put myself in a lose-lose situation."
Your aunt furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. "And why is that?"
"Because if I choose Patri, I would feel guilty because I know Alexia will always be on my mind and that I'll always still have those feelings for her and that's just unfair and wrong to Patri." You explained, sniffling. "And I love Alexia, even more than I have ever loved my ex who I dated for years... but I don't think I can trust myself to be vulnerable with her anymore. And I think I would always feel distrustful of her intentions."
Your aunt nodded, pausing for a moment. "But you do know those aren't the only choices, right?"
You looked at her to continue. She sighed, "You're looking at a false dichotomy. It's not going to be Alexia or Patri. It doesn't even have to end up with you choosing a relationship to pursue right now." She paused. "It could just be you choosing to heal... which is what you initially came here to do."
You nodded, taking in her words.
"You know how when you get a wound and it's barely healed but you pick at it and it just gets worse?" Your aunt tried to explain "That's what's happening now. You came here to heal from your ex-girlfriend and you barely let the wound heal before putting yourself in the same situation that gave you the wound in the first place. Do you get me?"
You nodded, feeling a bit lost with her vaguely medical analogy. "Yeah, kinda."
She sighed. "What I'm trying to say is... you can't keep running back to the same situations that hurt you and expect different results." She said as she rubbed your back. "And, you were right for coming here in the first place. You can't heal where you were hurt so it was smart of you to take yourself out of that place and distance yourself to give yourself time to actually heal."
"But... now, it's happening again. You're hurting here." She looked at you with pity. "And you can't expect yourself to heal from a past wound and this new wound while you're in a place that just keeps making you want to pick at the scabs each time they form."
Your aunt chuckled. "I feel like I've had this exact conversation with a nine-year-old kid who kept picking his knee scabs from falling over his bike..." She said, lightening up the situation. "But seriously, I stand by it. I don't think you can fully heal while you're here."
You paused. You knew she was right. If you stayed here, you'd always be tempted to run to Alexia who was literally a few feet away from you.
And, even if you were strong and had self-control, the thought of her just being down the hall would make you wonder all the time about what she was doing. Plus, the likelihood of you two running into each other was also enormous. 
You couldn't stay here and expect to heal. 
"So, should I just go back to the States?" You asked.
Your aunt paused. "If I were you, I wouldn't. Because then, you'd be comfortable in your environment, and you'd be bored and all you would do all day is probably watch Barcelona clips or stalk those two online and you'd keep regretting more." 
"When you first came here, you told me you'd love to travel Europe." She reminded you. "You said you'd want to go see the Eiffel Tower and Pisa and all those corny tourist traps... what's stopping you from doing that?"
You paused to think about it. You did have a decent amount of months left before you had to return to university, and you didn't want to come home and tell everyone that all you did was mope around in your aunt's apartment for an entire year. 
"But what if I still don't heal there? What if I still feel like shit?" You asked your aunt.
"Well, if you ask me, it's better to feel like shit while you're eating a pizza in Rome than feel like shit while taking Ruby out on her daily poop." She joked, still making sense.
You knew she was right. You couldn't waste time here, doing nothing and expecting results. There was no chance that you would stay here and completely move on from the remnants of the pain you felt with your ex and from the fresh wounds you got from your experience with Alexia.
If you wanted to move on, you had to put yourself first and leave Barcelona.
⋆˙⟡♡ You packed a small suitcase with essentials while your aunt helped you book trains and buses.
"Madrid is packed with tourists during this season. Why don't you go to France first then just pass by Madrid on the way back here?" Your aunt said with eyebrows knit together as she looked at your rushed itinerary. 
You chuckled. "To be honest, I don't really care where I go. I just need to be a tourist for now — be on the move and take all the usual tourist photos."
Your aunt hummed. "Then I'm changing all of your plans here cause this isn't a good route." 
You chuckled and allowed her to do it. Soon enough, you had a month of travel ahead of you with the first plane leaving early tomorrow. 
You sighed. You thought it was such an out-of-character thing for you to do — just randomly planned flights and train rides to random cities without any set housing or a clear itinerary yet. But maybe doing things that were out of your comfort zone was what you would need.
⋆˙⟡♡ Your aunt drove you to the airport at 4 am. Before leaving the apartment, your eyes lingered on Alexia's door down the hallway. You felt tempted to run over there and give her one last kiss before bidding your farewell.
But you knew that was just you picking at the scabs again. So, you used every ounce of self-control in your body and dragged yourself away from it. 
Though, you did send Patri a text. You told her you were still experiencing trust issues from a past relationship and that you jumped into dating her without healing. You apologized, making sure she knew that none of it was her fault and that you were genuinely regretful. You also said you would apologize in person but that you had to leave Barcelona urgently.
You were nervous for when she would wake up to that text and for what she would say but you figured that this was for the best.
You hugged your aunt tightly before you headed inside the airport. You wanted to cry, missing Alexia already even when you haven't left the city.
But you had to choose yourself this time. You had to heal.
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⋆˙⟡♡ In just three months, you've been to Paris, Monaco, Tuscany, Venice, Munich, and all the other places you've planned (and didn't exactly plan) to go to. 
You did all the touristy stuff. You made several friends in the hostels you stayed in. You tried so much food. You hiked. You missed a flight. You ate bad cheese and blew your guts out in the metro toilet. You basically experienced everything — good and bad — and it was genuinely helping you move on.
⋆˙⟡♡ There were times when you stumbled — liking a photo Alexia posted and quickly taking the like back, sending an Instagram DM only to unsend it before it's fully delivered, basically going through each Barça member's account to see a glimpse of Alexia. 
It was especially worse when football season started and Barcelona was playing so many games. Even when you tried not to watch, you'd stumble into a bar that was showing the game. But soon enough, you learned to block it all out from your head and ignore it.
When you left Barcelona, Patri sent you one long message telling you that she was hurt but she understood where you were coming from and that if ever I needed someone to talk to still, she was there. Though, you never took her offer; you still appreciated the gesture. All you could hope for was that she would move on and find someone more worthy of her time.
On the other hand, you didn't know if Alexia messaged you because you blocked her number as soon as you boarded the plane. It felt naive and childish to do so but it was crucial. You knew you'd end up obsessing over whether or not she'd message you or what she'd say if she did. You didn't want to fixate on that.
Ignorance is bliss, after all.
⋆˙⟡♡ You felt like you were almost fully healed at this point. 
You no longer felt sick when you'd see Alexia play a game on TV. You no longer stalked the Barça team for updates. You were moving on, and it felt good.
But undeniably, there was still something inside you that felt empty. 
In all of your efforts, you figured that throwing out all the regret, pain, and hang-ups inside you was the best way to go about it. And it worked but it did leave you feeling empty and unfulfilled.
It wasn't anything too bothersome but you knew yourself that something was missing that kept you from fully healing.
⋆˙⟡♡ "Come on, we're both tourists here. We might as well make the most out of it." The brunette girl said, trying to get you to go out on a date with her. "What's stopping you from going out with me?"
You smiled at the brunette sitting across from you. The two of you accidentally exchanged suitcases and had to contact each other's mobile from the bag tags to switch them back. 
So, you met at a café near your hostel and you were shocked to learn that the owner of the luggage you accidentally got was this attractive brunette girl with a confident smirk and intimidating aura. 
"Isn't this already a date, Lena? We're in a quaint coffee shop in Italy, getting to know each other." You asked her. "If that's not enough, let's have another coffee then - on me - then we can go our separate ways and have a cute story to tell our friends. You can embellish it with more cutesy details; I don't mind."
"All we did was exchange suitcases and chat about how hassle that trip was." The German girl rolled her eyes. "The fact that you and I have the exact same luggage, were on the exact same trip going here, and exchanged suitcases accidentally..." She paused for dramatic effect.
"That's just the recipe for the most perfect meet-cute. It's fate." She reasoned out.
You laughed at her. It was undeniable that she was charming and funny and very good-looking, and the fact that she was trying so hard to ask you out was flattering. But you weren't really in the mood to date now. If anything, it was the last thing on your mind. "I've had enough meet-cutes in my life to know it isn't all that."
"Sure, a gorgeous girl like you would have experienced it so much already but that shit rarely happens to me so it must mean something." Lena reasoned out, making you laugh again. "What? Are you straight or something?"
You laughed. "God, no." You shook your head. "I just... came from a bad breakup, followed by two simultaneous situationships that had me running all over Europe just to get over it. So, I'm just averse to romance for the time being."
Lena's eyes sparkled with curiosity. She felt amused by your blatant honesty. "Tell me what happened then."
You shook your head. "Too long of a story. Besides, I don't kiss and tell." You shrugged. 
Lena huffed and rubbed her chin in thought as she crossed her arms, purposely doing so to accentuate her biceps. You rolled your eyes at the ridiculous attempt. "So, your exes must be hot, huh?"
You laughed. "Does that matter?"
"Well, I would give up pursuing you if you said they were hotter than me. That just means I've got no chance." She said.
You chuckled. "Well, then yeah. They're hotter."
She feigned defeat but paused. "Would it change your answer if I tell you I'm a pro football player?"
Your mouth dropped. What is with me and attracting soccer players? Was I a soccer ball in my past life for me to attract these women?
"That would just make your chances worse actually," You said with an incredulous look. "Way worse."
Lena sighed deeply. "Guess I've gotta go to that Juventus-Barcelona game myself." She said, trying to bait you.
You paused. You haven't kept yourself updated with the games Barcelona was playing. You knew it would have been counterintuitive for you to do so. So, it naturally came as a shock to you that they were playing in the exact same city you were in.
"Barcelona? Femeni?" You asked cautiously.
She nodded. "Yeah, my friend plays for Juventus and she invited me to watch." She took note of your expression. "You a fan of Barça?"
You hummed, not exactly responding. "And that game is when?"
"Tonight," Lena responded with a smirk. "Why? Did I just convince you to go on a date?
You laughed and rolled your eyes. Lena just laughed it off. "So, you are a fan."
"Yes, well, not really..." You answered vaguely, unsure of how to respond. "Kinda, I don't know."
She rolled her eyes. "Let me guess, you're one of those girls who saw those Tiktok edits of Alexia running around without her shirt on and so now, you're a fan." She joked.
You bit your lip at the mention of Alexia. It felt weird knowing that some stranger was talking to you about her without knowing that one of the reasons why you were in Italy was that you were trying to move on from her. 
Lena chuckled, assuming she was correct. "Well, I've got an extra ticket if you want to go... and I wouldn't mind if you cheered for Alexia the entire game."
What Lena said triggered a memory... of you and Alexia on the first night that you slept over at her place. 
You remembered how you cautiously watched her drift to sleep, talking about watching a game of hers when she said, "Promise that you'll cheer for me?"
And you made that promise. 
You didn't think much of it then. You were clueless as to what would transpire after that night. But, the fact was that you did promise her that.
You rationalized with yourself that she wouldn't have remembered and that that shit didn't matter anymore. But, it was just funny how this opportunity to see her again — in Turin of all places — was falling straight to your lap. It felt like a chance to fulfill that promise.
Maybe this was what you had to do now. If you changed your mind and ended up hurting from the sight of her again, you still had a month and a half to go to hop to more random cities and forget about her again. 
It wasn't a bad idea.
"I can just buy the ticket from you." You offered the German girl to which she laughed incredulously. "I think I've got enough cash in my wallet right now."
She smiled. "No, it's yours. I have no one else to go with anyway." She shrugged. "Can't believe I'm bagging a date thanks to Alexia Putellas."
⋆˙⟡♡ Your heart was skipping a million beats per second as you arrived, and it wasn't just because you were the only one in a Barcelona shirt on the Juventus side.
"Lewandowski fan too, huh?" Lena commented as she looked at the name on the back of your kit. 
You shook your head. "Not really, I just bought the only Barça shirt available from a stall near my hostel." You said as you scratched your neck. "It's kinda itchy actually."
Lena chuckled. "If you want a Barcelona jersey, I can ask my friend to exchange kits with Alexia and I can give it to you." She beamed, still thinking you were just some fan. "But that would mean another date with me." 
You rolled your eyes. "Again, this is not a date." You corrected. And I already have one of Alexia's kits back at my aunt's house in Barcelona, you thought silently to yourself.
She frowned. "God, your ex must be top-tier if you're still not folding to my charm right now." She joked. 
"Yeah, I actually dated Alexia Putellas." You responded in a jestful manner, looking at her straight in the face. Lena just laughed it off, clueless to the fact that you weren't lying. 
⋆˙⟡♡ The game was going to start soon and you were getting incredibly anxious. You were going to see Alexia after months of no contact. It felt like you were having an out-of-body experience.
Soon, it was time for the players to march in. Your seats were premium which meant that you were right at the player's tunnel — the first people to see them all enter.
Promise that you'll cheer for me?
The memory echoed in your head over and over again in the past hour. You felt a pang in your heart. There was a part of you that felt guilty for leaving Alexia without a single goodbye.
But you figured this was your way of making it up to her — by fulfilling that promise.
As soon as the players walked out with their mascots, you stood up and started to cheer her name. You felt like a shrill fangirl and you could feel the eyes on you from all the Juventus fans on your side but you didn't care all too much. You were keeping that promise.
"Alexia! Alexia!" You cheered, jumping on your feet. 
Pretty soon, the blonde took notice of the loud cheering that came from the Juventus side, ready to flash her beautiful, charming smile at a brave fan but when she saw you in that crowd, her face fell.
Alexia felt like she was actually dreaming when she saw you, wearing the previous season's kit as you screamed her name, locking eyes with her. (And were you beside Bayern player, Lena Oberdorf?)  
It genuinely looked like one of the several dreams she had of you in the past month; it felt hard to believe that you were here and that she was awake.
You stopped cheering and just flashed a genuine smile at her as you waved at her. Soon, a smile grew on her face again; her entire face lit up as she realized that it was all real and that you were really there, cheering for her. She tried to walk towards you but hesitated, possibly remembering that she had a game to play.
"Go, go!" You mouthed at her and gestured for her to go along and play already. You felt a few tears fall from your eyes which you quickly wiped away. Alexia just nodded as you gestured for her to go on, motivated to give her best now that she knew you were watching.
You had no idea why you were suddenly tearing up. It must have been the overwhelming emotions or the sense of fulfillment of keeping your promise to her that you would cheer her name. You weren't sure what it was exactly; all you knew was that it was all tears of joy.
Alexia smiled at you one more time and kept her eyes on you for as long as she could. You smiled back, unable to stop the tears now. 
As she ran off to the pitch, still turning her head back occasionally to see if you were really there, you screamed. "Go Alexia!" 
She gave you one last look and a smile before the game started. And finally, you felt that emptiness inside you get filled.
You were finally healed.
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a/n: hope you guys liked it! if you did, please reblog and leave me your thoughts. (but please be nice... i am a fragile creature.) anyway, thank you for patiently waiting for this! i only did one read through it so there may be some errors which i'll just edit later on lol!
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