#she is really hard to draw though. like i love her enough to do it but man there is a lot going on in this design

[eveningrainstorm]

new unhinged girl just dropped

[letorip]

kiss with a fist

“you hit me once, i hit you back, you gave a kick, i gave a slap”

===+++===

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: tara needs a favour from perhaps the person she hates most on earth, but it just ends up drawing the both of you closer together.

warnings: explicit sexual content, fake dating 🤯, enemies to lovers, contrived plot because ha ha ha

word count: 4.8k

A/N: kinda had a lot of fun with this one. might do a part two, might just leave it as is, but let me know. inspired by kiss with a fist by florence + the machine (duh), lovely night from la la land, and various other inspirations.

===+++===

===+++===

The moment your front door opened on its hinges, Tara Carpenter was pushing past you and barging straight into your apartment, stepping right over the threshold and checking you with her shoulder. You barely had a chance to process it, before she had wandered down the hall and into your kitchen in a blur.

You rolled your eyes, knowing you were in for an annoying ass conversation and slamming the door shut. “What do you want?” You called into your own apartment loud enough for her to hear you in the other room.

“Don’t be a prick about it. This is the last place I wanted to go,” she shot back, and you sighed to yourself in your dark hallway before fixing your hair in the mirror and following her inside. There was only about an hour of her bullshit you could put up with and then you’d be saved by the bell anyhow.

“Whatever happened to ‘hello,’ Tara?” You said, crossing your arms and coming in to against the doorframe. She had jumped up onto your counter, legs swinging and fingers gripping the edge of the blue ice glass tiles. In her left hand she picked up the bottle of wine you had left out next to some glasses and began to read the label.

"Lecture me later,” she said, not looking up at you, You were about to reply, or more aptly, tell her to get the hell out of your apartment, but she put the bottle down and narrowed her eyes at you, clearly struggling to say what she was really there for.

“Look, (Y/n), I need your help.” Ah. There it was.

"Hah," you scoffed without hesitation. "No."

She threw up her hands. "I didn’t even say what I was asking for.”

“Still, no. I’m not helping you.”

“Could you just not be an asshat for five minutes and listen to me? Like, is that too hard for you? Are you medically incapable?" She shot back.

"You're sitting on my counter. I didn't bust into your house and start making demands but here you are in mine,” you said.

"I'm asking for a favour," said Tara, raising her voice. "Asking."

"Wasn't much of a question though, was it," you replied. Maybe being a dick back to her would make her leave. She had always been able to dish it but never able to take it, and you wanted to make her. "You said 'I need a favour.' There's no question in that."

"No, I actually said I need your help, now would you shut up and listen?"

You scowled. "Y'know, I'm not really in a helpful mood tonight."

"Like you have something better to do,” Tara scoffed, raising her eyebrows at you.

"And what if I do?"

"Then I'd say you're lying. What, you don’t want to help me because you’re watching your stupid show, or reading or something?” she challenged back, getting up off your counter and walking towards you. You straightened up, glaring down at her. She only came up to about your chest, but the short girl still did her best to seem intimidating.

With you she always frustratingly failed to even make the smallest dent, though that probably stemmed from the fact you could pick her up and punt her like a football if you wanted to. On the days she managed to really piss you off, the thought grew more enticing.

"For your information, I was supposed to have a date," you said. Tara blinked at this, looking down from your stupid face. You wore a thick black turtleneck and some pleated black pants that hung stylishly from your waist. The wine made sense now, and Tara felt like an idiot.

“What’d you pay them?” she clapped back, covering for the feeling of intense heat rising to her cheeks. This was humiliating. She had come begging for your help of all people- you, and now she had nothing to show for it but the stupid, smug look on your stupid, smug face.

“Ha ha,” you said, dryly. “Get out.”

“No.”

“Yes,” you insisted.

"So you're busy then…” she trailed off.

“Yes.”

“Nooo,” she groaned, throwing up her hands in frustration.

You weren't sure what it was, maybe the pout of her lip or the shining of her eyes, but you shut your own for a second and let out a sigh. "Why? What's the favour?"

Tara shook her head in a generally amusing display of defeat. "It's whatever. Have fun on your date," she said, heading for the door and trying to brush past you, but you reached your arm across the doorway, stopping her from going.

"No, what's-" you stopped, rolling your eyes upon realising you were about to help Tara Carpenter of all people- "What's the favour, Tara?" Her face instantly lit up with a bright, beaming smile, the exact opposite of what it had been before, and it suddenly occurred to you she had been playing you like a fiddle.

"Oh my god, you're actually helping for once! Did you finally wake up on the right side of the bed?”

"Don't push it," you muttered. "I don't even know what I'm agreeing to, yet."

"See, about that..." she trailed off.

"What.”

“We have to make Sam really, really mad.”

"What?”

"Yeah..."

You shook your head at her. "Never mind. I'm not helping you anymore."

"What!?"

"You're trying to get me murdered," you said. "I don't have a death wish."

Tara was fully frustrated now, dark eyes fiery and staring up at you in the candle lighting. “You don’t even know what it is you’re doing to make her mad yet!”

“Doesn’t matter, if it’s Sam I don’t want to do it.”

“It would be a big help!” Tara said, clasping her hands in front of her like a prayer. You narrowed your eyes at her, more upset her expression and clear desperation was actually working on you, and that you felt compelled to help this idiot with an undoubtedly idiotic plan.

“What are you trying to do?”

Tara jumped up and down in excitement, smiling widely in a way you had rarely seen her. “Okay! Okay, so Sam said last month that she didn’t want me going to parties and meeting people because she was worried they were murderers.”

“Uh huh,” you said.

“Buuut, she said I could go if I had someone always with me. Like, someone with me that she approved of. So I didn’t wander off to hook up or drink, which is, y’know, the actual fun ‘college party’ stuff.”

“Uh huh.”

“The thing is though, that if I had a ‘partner,’” she raised her fingers to put quotes around it, “then Sam wouldn’t need to worry about me doing that, because she’d assume I’d be with them, hanging out, or even if we did go to a party, it would be together. Buddy system style.”

You raised your eyebrows, realising where this was probably going. “Uh huh?”

“Which is where you’d come in. Sam wouldn’t trust just anybody, if I told her I was seeing someone. But she would trust someone from our group, who she knows for sure isn’t going to murder me. And you- as fucking annoying as you are- are exactly that.” She had a twinkle in her eyes when she explained it to you, and you realised Tara had probably been plotting this- or at least considering it- for a while now, the little devil.

“You really expect Sam to believe we can tolerate each other?” You asked, squeezing your arms tighter against your chest. “She knows how much I hate you, and only person I hate more is her.”

“Trust me, I’ve complained about you to her too,” she rolled her eyes. “But you were literally my only option. Call it a romance of passion. We only ‘hated’ other to cover up for our real feelings or whatever. Sam doesn’t have to like you but she definitely trusts you.”

“How romantic,” you wrinkled your nose, disgusted by the suggestion. “Wait, why am I your only option? Chad is right there, he’s already in love with you and everything. He’s like the built-in boyfriend.”

She winced. “See, I thought about that. But I just know it would probably hurt him, with the hooking up and it not being real. He probably wouldn’t feel too great about me ‘cheating’ on him.” Tara did the finger quotes around it again and you let out a whistle.

“Wow, so you do have a heart.”

She scoffed. “More than you do. Besides, we only need to pretend to be together until I find someone actually tolerable. After that, you’re free again.”

“I had a date tonight,” you narrowed your eyes at her.

“But you’re still here talking to me for some reason?” She raised her eyebrows at you. “And the way you said ‘had’ I’m thinking you don’t anymore.” Tara could be annoyingly perceptive sometimes. She always seemed to zero in on the way you spoke or what you said.

“I wasn’t too excited for it anyways,” you grumbled, and Tara laughed, realising she had been correct and being all too pleased with herself. She clasped her hands together.

“Well then. Are you going to help me, or are you going to glare at me some more?”

“The second one sounds really appealing right now,” you shot back.

“Oh, come on. Don’t be too proud of an asshole to admit this is a great plan.”

“It’s a terrible plan, and it’s absolutely going to fail when Sam tries to murder me.”

“But you didn’t say no.”

You looked at her for a long minute, contemplating if this was really the path you were going to go down. You let out a sigh, shaking your head. “I’ll do it. But you’ll sure as hell owe me.”

“Yeah yeah,” Tara waved you off, beaming from ear to ear. “Great! We’re going on a double date with her and Danny this Friday.”

“What?!” Your mouth dropped open.

“Yep,” she said, annoyingly skipping down your hallway. “I’ll text you the address and time!” she said.

“Now wait a minute-” you called after her, but she had already latched open your door and left, leaving you to watch her go. Fuck, this would end terribly. You sighed again, taking out your phone to cancel your date.

===+++===

This was so unbelievably stupid. The longer you stood outside the Italian restaurant, the more you regretted agreeing to help her.

The restaurant was nice at least, with giant marble stones and dark red accents, and you could see through the massive float glass windows that the lighting mostly featured romantic candles and potted floribunda roses against dark wood. It would ironically be the most expensive date you ever had, and you realised that with bitter sentimentality.

Tara was late, like always, and you had begun to pace along the sidewalk, tracing the cracks with the centre of your shoe while you waited for her. It was boring, out on the street, and the more couples that passed you and walked right inside, the more nauseous you felt. You grabbed your phone out of your pocket, thumbing over the cracked display.

She was ten minutes late. You swiped open your text messages, still seeing nothing from her.

are you here yet???

You sent the message hastily, waiting for the typing icon to pop up or even show that she read it, but nothing. Suddenly the screen lit up and your phone started vibrating it, and you almost dropped it in surprise. “Fuck,” you cussed quietly, seeing the call incoming screen and Little Shit (do not pick up) appear at the top. You frowned, hitting the green button and accepting the call.

“Where the hell are you??? I don’t know if you noticed but we’re late,” you immediately said into the phone, aware of just how annoyed you sounded.

“Relax,” replied Tara on the other end of the line, and you could hear her eye roll from here. “Danny is a late guy too, Sam gets on him all the time for it.”

“Yeah well, I’m standing outside waiting for your late ass.” You felt someone awkwardly push past you and you winced, spinning around to usher them an apology.

“I’ll be there in a minute, I had to pick something up,” she dismissed you. “Just don’t let Sam and Danny see you. I told them we were showing up together.”

“Well how the hell am I supposed to do that?” You frowned, looking around. There was a row of bushes off to the side but you were too tall and not at all willing to crouch behind them like an idiot.

“I don’t know. Figure. It. Out.” Tara spoke slowly like you were a child and you narrowed your eyes.

“Y’know, I’m doing you a favour?”

“Ha!” Tara exclaimed, and you hissed, pulling your ear away from the phone’s speaker at the loud noise. “So you admit, it was a favour!”

“Shut up and get your ass over here," you grumbled before hanging up shortly, looking around and wandering down a side alley. It smelled disgusting back there, in the ironic, almost-dark of sunset, and it would've been a lovely night to take a walk on, had it not been for wasting it on Tara of all people.

You pulled out a box of cigarettes from your pocket, fumbling one out and sticking it between your lips. You stuck the box back in your pocket and pulled out your fancy lighter that had your name engraved on the side, thumbing over the lettering for a moment before lighting the cigarette and sticking it between your two fingers.

It felt stupid, to standing there next to the dumpster and watching some rats scurry by, but you let out a huff of smoke, remembering how much Tara had seemed excited for the parties and having fun. You didn't like her very much, nor could you really claim to be much of a saint, but you weren't a monster either.

"What are you doing??" called a voice from the end of the alley, and you spun to see Tara near the line of bushes with a bouquet of flowers in her hands. She had her eyes narrowed at the cigarette, looking frustrated.

"Having a smoke. Why, want one?"

She let out a sigh of exasperation, marching straight up to you. "You can't go on a double date with my sister smelling like cigarette smoke. You know she hates that kind of stuff."

"I've smoked with her, before. Her and Mindy," you argued, pulling it from your lips to take a breath in. "I've literally given her cigarettes."

Tara glared at you, taking it from your hand and crushing it under her heel. "Yeah, well, she still hates you, and now that we're allegedly 'dating' it's different. We can't give her any reason not to trust us, and you smoking cigarettes is going to make her think I'm going to start smoking cigarettes."

You shrugged. "If she hates me so much, then she's never gonna let us 'hang out' alone or go to parties anyway."

"No, she-" Tara rolled her eyes. "She hates you, but she sure as hell trusts you. Enough to babysit me."

"Fine. What's with the flowers?" you asked, crossing your arms.

"You got them for me," Tara shrugged. "Pinnacle of romance."

You whistled to be funny, but it was a little bit impressive that she had planned that out. The plan wasn't especially well thought out, but she at least had her moments of surprising intelligence, which you couldn't begrudge her.

"Well then," she frowned. "Let's go, lover." She clutched the flowers in one hand and slid her arm to interlock with yours. You narrowed your eyes but started to walk her in.

"Don't call me that. It's weird," you muttered.

"Get used to it. Tonight we're the happiest couple on planet Earth."

The restaurant was somehow even nicer on the inside than it had been on the outside. Tara gripped your hand, tugging you along with her as she headed towards Sam and Danny's table and followed the waiter, but you were looking a little dumbfounded at the marble columns and Italian frescos painted to the walls and roof.

You made your way back, led into a giant room with a lot of people. Danny sent you a welcoming wave when they saw you; Sam looked like she was about ready to blow a gasket. She stared at you, eyeing you up and down and then lasering in on the bouquet in Tara's hands with a frown.

"Did you tell her your secret partner was me???" you whispered to Tara as you approached.

She smirked evilly. "Nope."

Fucking amazing. "Hey guys!" Danny said, friendly and open. He seemed just thrilled to be there, while Sam seethed right next to him. Tara smiled right at her sister, gesturing for you to sit next to her.

"Sorry we were late," Tara says, a little awkward but trying to seem comfortable. "We were, um..." she looked at you for help.

You blanked, throwing out the first thing you could think of. "Kissing!"

Sam nearly spit out her water, eyes widening at staring at you. Tara whipped to you, jaw slack and you sent her a sorry glance. Improv was not your thing by any means.

"Um," Danny blinked at you. "No worries. You're here now," he said with an awkward smile. His hand went to Sam's, trying to give it a comforting squeeze, but she looked like she wanted to jump over the table and then jump you. She was glowering.

"So," she said, eyes narrowed. "How long has 'this,'" she gestured between you and Tara, "been a thing?" She looked at you intensely, and you looked to Tara, trying to shrug it off. You both laughed, playing the part of the happy couple.

"Oh, a month," you said.

"Two months," Tara said, at the exact same time. Fuck.

You tried not to glare at each other. "Well, which is it?" Sam squinted at her sister, and Tara sent a kick at your leg under the table. Your knee hit the bottom of the table with a painful 'thud,' and it took everything in you to not yell out in pain from your knee cap hitting the wood.

You tried to smile it off. "Tara just said two months, because we went on a few study dates, but it wasn't official until a month ago."

"So two months then," Sam said, crossing her arms on the table.

"I get it," Danny said, nodding. "I'm bad at dates and stuff too," he laughed a bit. "I almost forgot how long Sam and I had been together after our four month anniversary." You nodded, sending him your best grin. Sam didn’t look too happy about that either, though.

"Yeah, long day, I guess." Tara said next to you, sending you her best smile, her hand coming up to rub your back. It was weird, having her this close, but you put on your best face, as if she touched you all the time.

"You go to Blackmore too, right?" he asked, and you nodded. "What do you study?"

"I'm in architecture," you replied. Finally, something you could talk about without feeling like you were crossing a minefield. From the corner of your eye, you could still see Sam staring you down with suspicion.

"Oh! That's awesome!" Danny replied, taking a sip of wine from his glass. "I love architecture, it's interesting."

"Mhm," you nodded, looking over at Tara and smirking with just a hint of malicious glee. "I tease her- my degree is actually useful. People don't really like film majors. They usually smell bad."

"Do they?" he asked, genuinely curious, and you turned back, nodding.

"Yeah, it's an unfortunately common stereotype. Film majors are annoying, smelly-," your words were cut off, feeling Tara's nail dig into your back for revenge and trying to stifle a wince. She gave the table a fake giggle.

"Okay, that's enough out of you," she said, and you grinned, cursing her out in your head.

"Why didn't you tell me it was (Y/n), Tara?" Sam asked, leaning forwards and studying you both. She seemed a bit miffed with the whole situation. You sent each other fake smiles, as if you were about to share a secret.

"Well," she said, trying to seem excited. "We just didn't want anyone ruining it, really. It was kind of a secret, and we didn't know what it would turn into. But it's just...it's been so fucking magic."

"Magic. Mhm," you hummed in agreement, looking off into the distance and pulling out the menu. You were just a bit too hungry to keep up with the game for the moment. Seriously? she shot you a glare, and you snapped to attention. "It is genuinely one of the happiest times of my life," you rushed, quickly smiling and then dropping your attention back down to the menu to look at some pasta.

“Does Chad know?” Sam asked, sitting back and staring at you both. Tara shook her head.

“Not yet. I don’t want to hurt him, but really, (Y/n)’s the one for me.” This was also a little bit impressive. Tara seemed to be a far better actor than you were, and Sam just nodded, suspicious but trusting her sister’s words.

===+++===

The moment you walked down the block and out of Sam and Danny's eyesight, your hand dropped from Tara's. The sun was just about setting in the distance, and city traffic was starting to slow down a little.

"Oh. My. God. Her face!" Tara said, laughing. She keeled over, and you smiled a little, remembering Sam's look of disgust, but quiet monitoring of your hand clutching onto Tara's. She looked like a very conservative nun, witnessing a sin being performed in real time. It was a little funny, you had to admit, not that you'd ever be caught laughing along with her.

"Danny seems nice," you said, after you walked a little farther.

Tara nodded. "He's surprisingly not a douchebag. I thought he would be, like you or something, but he's not that bad for Sam."

You scoffed. "I'm not a douchebag."

"You definitely are," Tara said, shaking her head. "One month because it wasn't official? You said we were going on dates before then. That's definitely douchebag behaviour. Sam probably thought that meant you were seeing other people."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh," Tara said, rolling her eyes. "And 'kissing'??? Literally anything would've been better."

"I'm trying to help you, it's either this or nothing," you huffed in annoyance. "I'm not an on-the-spot person."

"Clearly," Tara said, shaking her head in overdramatic emphasis. She stopped suddenly and you jerked backwards, seeing her mess with her shoes.

"You good?" you asked, shoving your hands into your pockets.

"These damn shoes- making me walk home- god dammit," she grumbled, messing with the straps and the buckle on the side. You waited patiently, leaning against a stone wall as you waited for her to finish.

The sky above you had turned a deep purple, small hues of orange and pink in the form of clouds sitting at the edges. It was really something, and you stopped to watch it, whistling. Tara jerked upwards, planting her foot down to stomp her shoe into place.

"What is it?" she asked.

"The sky," you said, and she craned her neck up to watch it with you. "It's just really beautiful tonight."

She hummed for a moment before looking back to you. "It's a shame I'm spending it with you, of all people," Tara snorted. "I'm sure this would be romantic to any other couple."

"It would probably really be something," you said absentmindedly, looking up in thought. "A real waste on you and me though."

"Glad we agree," she said, leading the way. You and her had taken a separate path from Danny and Sam under the guise of getting some ice cream, but neither of you were willing to pay for it. Instead, you had to figure out what you would do with ten extra minutes.

"Do you want to cross?" you asked, gesturing to the other street, she nodded and you walked up, pressing the button. When you turned back to her, her nose was wrinkled.

"What?"

She shrugged. "Nothing. You just hit the button weird."

"What?" you blinked at her. "How can someone 'hit the button weird'?"

"I don't know, but you, like, pushed it weird. With your fingers."

You rolled your eyes. "Do you have a problem with everything I do?"

“Yep,” she nodded back. “It’s annoying.”

You guys kept walking in silence for the next block or two, making a square so that you could return to Sam and Tara’s apartment together. The sun had disappeared now and faded into night, and when you turned the corner to split off, she tugged on your arm.

“Hey wait, you have to walk me home.”

“What?” you raised your eyebrows at her.

Tara shrugged. “You have to, to make Sam think we’re dating.”

You blinked at her. “But we live on opposite sides of the city.”

“Still.”

“Tara if I walk you home I’ll miss the last train,” you grumbled. “That’s a long ass walk.”

“Cmon, we have to or she won’t believe it.”

You frowned. “You’re paying for my cab then.”

She sighed. “Fine, but come on.”

She tugged you down the long strip by the hand, stopping suddenly, a block from her apartment. “Here wait,” she said, turning to you. “Give me your jacket.”

“What?” you raised your eyebrows at her. “Why would I want to do that?”

“Oh just do it, do you have to argue about everything?”

You took it off with a glare, handing it to Tara. She tried to slide it on but it was massive on her, so she bunched up the sleeves. With the flowers in her hand and your jacket, it definitely looked like you two had gone on a date.

She grabbed your hand again, pulling you forwards along the street and smiling brightly in case anyone looked out the window and saw you both. It felt a bit odd to be playing dress up, but it was helping someone out, so you didn’t begrudge her on getting you to smile either.

“Wait wait wait,” Tara said, stopping abruptly.

You groaned. “Now what.”

She pulled you to the side, near a row of shrubs that sat next to the red brick of her apartment building. “Sam’s watching us through the window.”

You turned your head, trying to see for yourself, and there she was, hanging right out the window and watching you with intense suspicion.

"Don't look at her!" Tara snapped at you, whispering with a glare. You rolled your eyes.

"What do you want me to do then, Tara?"

She frowned, biting her lip while she thought. She gave you a grimace. "We need to do, like, a goodnight kiss or something."

You glared at the suggestion. "I think I'd rather die."

"Trust me, I don't want to either," she said, glowering right back at you. "But if we do this now, we won't have to ever again."

You thought for a moment. She'd probably taste disgusting anyways, and then it would just confirm what you already knew- you hated Tara Carpenter. "Fine. Just convincing enough though."

"Okay," she nodded. When neither of you made a move to close the distance, she frowned. "Do like, a countdown or something?"

"A fucking countdown," you repeated. "We're not five."

"Just do it!" she demanded, glaring again.

"Okay, fine, Jesus Christ. Three...," your face moved a bit closer to hers. "Two," you muttered quietly, still leaning in. "One," you said, and then Tara pushed her face onto yours.

It was a chaste kiss, probably sprouting from the fact that neither of you especially wanted to do it. Her lips were softer than you expected them to be and her breath nowhere as near as it would be in your head. You pulled away quickly, and there she was, smiling up at you in the fake way she had been at the restaurant.

"Party next Friday?" she asked. "Now that Sam thinks we're together she won't care if I go. Just pick me up and we can go 'together.' Plus there's a cute kid from my film class who said she would be there."

You nodded. "Whatever."

"Great," she said with similar shortness, and she brushed right past you, heading into her building. You watched her walk off, making sure she got in the door safe. Sam was still looking at you from overhead, even when Tara had gone, and you could see Quinn standing behind her, looking with morbid curiosity.

It had never even crossed your mind to kiss Tara, just because of how annoying her personality was, and you would have rather died than admit it had been nice- that she had been nice for a night. Instead you turned around, walking off. You were sure Sam was still watching you, as you went.

===+++===

part two??? it shouldn't be too long before the next one, i had to split this up because it was getting insanely long and there's another half to the story. i didn't want this one to be like 8k words long, i'll just probably have another one that's 4-5k soon.

[a-hazbin-reader]

A Alastor x wife!reader where reader has been wanting a family and finally by some miracle she discovers she's pregnant

Just a thought 🫠

You are not even the third person to ask for this and we're all already delusional here soooooo-

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Sadness, Reader has baby fever and spreads it to her husband unintentionally, A little angst, Implied baby making 😉

Description: 👆⬆️

Alastor would do anything for his wife, spare no expense for her happiness and it shows

You two have talked previously about your obvious desire for a family with him

He would be willing to give that to you even though he's admittedly not the biggest fan of the idea

Part of him is scared of being a father but he won't ever admit that

You two both knew that sinners couldn't reproduce, and it crushed you that the opportunity was taken from you

You were still happy to have your husband and your found family at the hotel

You just still had that desire to have a baby, your husband's baby to be exact

Alastor hates seeing you so hurt over this, he wants to fix things for you, but this is out of his control

He couldn't give you a baby no matter how hard he tried, and that makes him feel helpless, which makes him angry

Sometimes the longing for a baby and the despair of knowing you can't have one gets to be too much for you and you unintentionally draw into yourself

Not amount of hugging or soothing words from your husband can console you, no matter how hard you cling to him and seek his comfort

You're just so sad sometimes

Which leads to Alastor being frosty and agitated with the others around the hotel, upset that he can't just fix it

He would give you the biggest family if he could, whatever he could do to make you feel whole

It's not like you two are neglecting each other or growing apart, there's just this heavy feeling hanging between you two

Everyone knows something is up with you two, but nobody is brave enough to ask, except maybe Vaggie, but she's respecting your privacy as a couple

Of course, it's Charlie who tries to get to the bottom of things for the two of you, everyone is just worried you two are fighting

So when you finally relent and tell her the truth, she's relieved that you and Alastor only want to have a baby-

YOU AND ALASTOR WANT TO HAVE A BABY!?

Sinners can't reproduce so you're just riding out your baby fever until it's manageable again

But no sinner has had a friend in the Morningstar family before

Not even a day later Alastor is greeted by Lucifer while you're out with Charlie and the others

"Hey man, heard you wanted me to get your wife pregnant! Lucky for you, I happen to have a thing for married women~"

When you come back home you're surprised to see Lucifer and your husband talking amicably, both turning their heads towards you immediately

"Ah! Would you look at the time? I should really get going, things to do, ducks to make-what?"

Lucifer gives you an unexpected side hug on his way out, hand resting momentarily on your stomach before leaving

You rub where he touched, surprised by the sudden warmth that lingers there

Your husband is looking at you strangely too but kisses you in greeting before you can even question it

Alastor acts rather clingy the rest of the day, following you around, asking you how you're feeling, giving affection more freely

You can't deny that you're loving the attention and soaking up every bit of it, the warmth in your stomach having spread throughout your entire body now

If Alastor's sudden neediness is anything to go by, he's feeling the same as you are

How either of you manage to wait until everyone has gone to bed to indulge in each other is beyond you

The entire night is a blur but when you wake up the entire bed has nearly been torn apart

Feathers are all over the place, the blankets have all been kicked away or shredded, the bed frame is clawed and cracked

You would almost feel embarrassed, but when you look at your handiwork on your husband, you can't help but feel proud

Things mostly go back to normal after that, except Lucifer visits more often and seems to pay special attention to you

You feel like everyone is watching you lately and you don't know why, you're never alone anymore, your husband especially is very hovery

But it ends up working out in your favor because one day you wake up, overwhelmed by the urge to vomit, your husband holding back your hair

And it keeps happening for days on end, and you start gaining weight without explanation, and your cravings are suddenly intense and-

Your husband is looking a little too pleased with himself, rubbing your back soothingly as you poke at your mysteriously changing body in the mirror

"You did this to me somehow, didn't you!"

"Why honey, why would I need to babytrap you when we're already married?"

"Because you-what?"

It takes a few moments to register what he said, all the strange things in the last few months clicking into place

"You got me pregnant..?"

He actually starts to look a little embarrassed, suddenly unsure if he really did the right thing after all-

When did he end up on the bed?

Is definitely sure in his decision later when he exits the bedroom, fixing his hair and clothes while he leaves you sleeping in bed

Luckily, the hotel has a lot of people who are willing to help out with your pregnancy because Alastor is worried he's actually in over his head

Your mood swings are more like mood hurricanes and sometimes he needs help knowing the right things to say

"Y/N, don't worry about not fitting into your own clothes, this is uh...just an opportunity to get new ones!"

"T-Thanks Vaggie..."

The cravings start to get fucking weird, Alastor genuinely repulsed by some of the things you're asking him for

"Darling, I can get you fresh meat as bloody as you want but do you really need to eat it with cake and ice cream?"

"Don't you love me..?"

He'll be back in 10 minutes

The bigger you get, the more sore and tired you are, constantly needing help around the hotel as you waddle around

"Thanks for helping me, Husk...I was getting really tired."

"Charlie, is it alright if I sit in that chair? My back is killing me.."

Alastor is scared with how vulnerable you are like this so he sticks close to you but silently appreciates the help from everyone

Even the other overlords come to see your miracle pregnancy, which doesn't help with Alastor's paranoia over how defenseless you are right now

They just want to see

As if Carmilla or Rosie would let anything happen to you anyways, Rosie loves the crap out of you and Carmilla wouldn't hurt an expecting mother

Rosie is constantly visiting and bringing baby gifts, so many that they're starting to pile up around the hotel

"Oh darling, you're practically glowing! Alastor! Have you told Y/N how radiant she is with her pregnancy?"

She wants to be Aunty Rosie so bad

Alastor genuinely admires the changes in your body, feeling pride in the thought that he did this to you

"With a little help from the big boss of-"

"You haven't left already?"

"I want to talk to my god child~ Can you stop hogging Y/N's belly for five minutes?"

"Your what now?

Alastor rubs your belly a lot, baffled by the idea that his spawn is in there and how happily you carry it

How you're so proud to be having his kid is beyond him, he knows what a wretched man he is and you still love him, take pride in him

The first time he feels the baby kick, he's a little unnerved but then you guide his hand back, smiling at him in a way that makes his heart ache for you

"Our baby wants to say hi to you..."

Okay, now his heart is melting, give your husband a kiss right now

Starts kissing and talking to your belly more after that, talking to the baby about anything and everything as if you're not even there

"Now your mother, you have no idea how lucky she is to have me as her husband~"

Confides in you late one night, about his fear of being a father and failing you and the baby

Not him having tears pinpricking in the corners of his eyes as you kiss him and reassure him

He doesn't particularly care about the gender of his child, just that you and the little spawn are okay

But if the baby is a girl, then he would like her to have his mother's name, that's all he would ask really

If the baby is a boy then he'll let you pick the name out as long as it's something fancy sounding

Does all the work when it comes to the nursery and baby proofing but has no idea what that actually entails, so you'll have to help him out

He's so proud to show you the finished look

The closer it gets to your due date, the more out of sorts and anxious he is but he tries to put on a brave face for you

He makes sure you never have to lift a finger, doing everything he can to make you comfortable and spending all his free time with you

Carmilla and her daughters all volunteer to assist in the labor, Zestial coming for the sake of tagging along

Alastor is in genuine anguish when you actually go into labor, the sound of you in pain and him being helpless to help is torture for him

Refuses to leave your side the entire time, blocking out everything else but you and encouraging you as best he can

Focuses so hard on taking care of you that he hardly notices that you've finished, surprised when Carmilla suddenly puts not one but two babies in your arms

You're visibly exhausted but seem to gain a renewed energy at the sight of your babies, looking at them in wonder before giving Alastor a tearful smile

"A boy and a girl, a miracle on top of already being miracle babies. Congratulations, Alastor."

Carmilla pats him on the shoulder before leaving, pulling Zestial and her daughters along with her

Alastor doesn't even register what she said, still dumbfounded at the sight of you cooing at two squirming infants

TWINS!? Lucifer, you sneaky son of a bi-

"Do you want to hold them, Alastor?"

"I would love nothing more, my dear..."

He definitely doesn't immediately fall in love when his babies cling to him like they'll never let go, holding his fingers in their unbelievably tiny hands

A LITTLE TREAT FOR ALL OF YOU WHO WERE BEGGING FOR THIS

[beneathashadytree]

RESPONSIBLE DADS - LOVE AND DEEPSPACE MEN X READER

Warnings : autistic!Zayne with his autistic daughter, all of them are girl dads here (except for Xavier who has twins), cuteness-aggression bites, one mention of a gun (no one is harmed!), no mentions of pregnancy (their kids can be interpreted as biological or adopted), this isn’t proof-read, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : so much domestic fluff ☹️🫶🏽

Word count : 2.3K words (holy shit???)

Additional notes : This is a combination of two asks I’d received a month or two ago about the LNDS men as dads while their partner is away, and Zayne in particular struggling with his own autism vs his child’s autism. The brain rot was real in this one😭 To anyone else reading this, my requests are still closed!! These are just old requests I had in my inbox🫶🏽

Tip jar!

Masterlist

“She went down without much of a fuss,” Zayne said, slowly closing the bedroom door behind him as he set his phone on the dresser and got ready for bed over the video call, despite the time zone differences. He’d tried to convince them to just let themself rest instead of staying up past 3 AM, but they’d paid him no mind and insisted on seeing him last thing before bed.

They hummed, watching him slip out of his button up through their screen with a fond gaze. “She is really quiet compared to what I’ve heard about kids her age.”

In the midst of folding his shirt, he paused, a slight crease between his eyebrows. “A little too quiet.” At his concerned face, they straightened up in their seat and leaned in closer to their phone. “I think… she has difficulty connecting with me.”

Their expression was unsure at that. “I don’t know, Zayne. You know she loves you…”

“I do,” was his swift answer, pausing as he pulled his pyjama shirt over his head, then popping out with his hair adorably mussed. “But maybe she feels like I wouldn’t understand her.”

No matter how much he wanted to seem stoic and unaffected by the prospect, there was no hiding the conflicted emotions swimming in his eyes. With an almost sad smile, they asked him, “Even though anyone that sees you two says you have so much in common?”

With a slight flush (was it out of embarrassment as he noticed his messy hair, or was it a twinge of pride in being so connected to his daughter?) he began to apply his minimal skincare that he’d grown used to with them, scarred skin deftly being cared for after years of neglect.

“Autistic girls have different experiences than autistic boys, and their struggles are often overlooked because of these differences. Maybe she subconsciously feels that we can’t bridge that gap.”

Resting their head against their hand, keen eyes bore through him. Zayne would never go unheard as long as they were there. “Do you feel that gap?”

He shrugged, swallowing thickly as he wiped the excess off on his hand towel. “It’s not about me. Studies show that—”

Shaking their head, they sighed a little in affectionate exasperation. “It doesn’t matter what studies say. You’re overthinking it because you want things to be perfect. It’s sweet, just… not very realistic.”

“Mm. I know,” he softly conceded, combing through his hair with a distant glimmer in his eyes. It wasn’t so easy, navigating the emotions and ideas of a child that one already struggled with for decades.

They apologetically smiled at him, then added, “She trusts you with her life because she knows how hard you try to understand her, no matter how difficult that may be sometimes. You give her the space to be able to communicate her needs properly, and that’s why she loves you beyond measure, Zayne.”

He looked away for a few beats, but that was enough time for them to see the misty-eyed wonder in his eyes as he looked at the crooked drawing on his bedside table that she’d made of him holding her in his arms.

His sweet daughter who carried a piece of his heart everywhere she went.

“Then she’s just like you. Very open with her affections.” Huffing out an impossibly tender laugh, he picked up his phone once again and began to climb into bed, his shoulders sagging with relief; like he needed that reassurance to be able to nestle his body into the mattress, cold as it was without his lover. “Sometimes I wonder what I did to deserve it from you both…”

“You’re gonna get sick like that, and guess who’ll be cleaning up that mess?” Rafayel frowned, grabbing his daughter by the scruff of her neck and carrying her off before she got her pretty dress drenched by the wave that came crashing down where she’d been standing.

“I can’t get sick from water, daddy, and you know it,” came the reply between giggles, her eyes closed as she relished in the spray of seawater.

With a grunt, he fumbled with his phone a little as he switched to carrying her against his hip with one arm, before turning back to the ongoing video call. “Holding down the fort?” they teasingly asked, arching their brow at their daughter’s windswept hair and inevitably sandy fists curled up against Rafayel’s chest.

“She likes to bully me.” He pouted as he saw two pairs of mischievous eyes looking at him. “No guesses as to where she picked that up from.”

“Are you sure that your six year old daughter—who, mind you, is as cute as a button—is bullying you?”

“Daddy’s just silly, Lemurians are fine with water,” his daughter tried to reason with what she felt was perfectly logical. “He just doesn’t want to wash my clothes again if I get them wet.”

“And why should I?” he indignantly huffed out at the grin that showed she was definitely up to no good. “They’ll get dirty ten seconds later anyways. It’s such a pain.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t leave paint buckets everywhere, then I wouldn’t be on my fourth dress of the day.” Her sassy mutter under her breath was the last straw, and then his instincts took over and—

Chomp!

His teeth nibbled on her round little cheeks, cuteness aggression washing away any possible annoyance (which he’d been feigning, anyways) at the prospect of having to do the laundry all over again. She cried out in protest, though her shreaks of laughter and tighter hold on him gave away the fact that—not unlike his partner—she loved every bit of it.

“You got my face all dirty,” she whined, wiping her cheek against his silk shirt as he walked them back up to the house, much to his dismay.

A chuckle came from his screen, and he flushed under the sweet gaze and the grin he missed so much. “There goes another round in the washing machine. Y’know, Raf, it’s not the smartest move around to wear your favorite clothes around your kid.”

“No kidding,” he grumbled, though there was no bite behind his words. In fact, the tender look in his gem-like eyes only spoke volumes of the adoration he held inside. And maybe his little girl felt it, and decided it would be the perfect moment to press a kiss to where she could reach, right over his heart.

“I don’t mind the paint, daddy. You always make the prettiest things with it, pretty just like you,” she softly said, her tiny index finger toying with the pearlescent button on his blouse.

How much more did she want to squeeze his heart in his chest? He didn’t think he could possibly love her any more than he already did, and yet here she was, proving over and over again that she was the greatest gift he could ever be blessed with after all these years. Walking into their home with sandy feet and salty skin was no longer a dream, but a part of his quaint little life.

“Even if you did ruin my favorite dress and sandals.”

“Papa’s been asleep for three hours now,” she whined in a low voice, her bottom lip jutted out as she looked back at Xavier curled up in a ball in the middle of the unmade bed, legs tangled in the messy sheets. She then turned back to the videocall at hand. “Can’t you wake him up, please?”

Her twin brother popped up from behind her and patted her shoulders in what he hoped was a soothing manner. “He’s tired after he played with us. Let’s leave him for a bit.”

With a downcast gaze, she reluctantly nodded and walked out with him, the phone shaking as it was a little too big for her small hands.

Now out in the living room, they could finally raise their voices a little. “Papa cleaned up in the morning too. We probably shouldn’t have asked him to play with us.” He looked a little forlorn as he fiddled with his fingers. Painfully shy, it often showed when he was doubting himself. “We tried to help him after lunch, but—”

“That’s okay, what matters is that you both tried to lend him a hand,” they sweetly reassured them as they smiled through the screen. “And I’m sure if he was too tired to play with you guys, he wouldn’t have offered it in the first place.”

Their daughter gasped, eyes shining in awe at that. “How did you know that Papa was the one who came up with the game?”

“Because he waits for playtime every day, just to spend time with you guys. He’s always so excited, y’know?”

With matching grins (though one was more bashful than the other), the two seven year-olds looked significantly lighter than they had been when the call had first started. The precious moment was soon interrupted by a yawn from behind and a tuft of blonde hair taking up half the background.

“Did you two sneak off to have them all to yourself?” came Xavier’s sleep-addled voice, as he shuffled to pull them onto his lap and readjust the camera. “Cheeky, taking advantage of my nap.”

His daughter laughed, her hands going to loop around his neck. “We weren’t! Promise.”

Her brother reached up to pat down Xavier’s bedhead, gently combing through the soft locks. “You looked tired, Papa. We didn’t want to wake you up with our voices.”

At that, Xavier couldn’t help the upwards quirk of his lips, all the love one could contain threatening to burst through as he held his world between his fingertips—and the best part of him miles away but no further from the heart.

“You’re sweet, just like a certain someone we all miss,” he said, before kissing their foreheads and ruffling their hair, earning little grumbles of protest. Turning his attention back to the videocall, Xavier’s eyes softened. “How long until we can take naps together on the couch again?”

His partner sighed, glancing at the calender on the wall for a moment. “Should be three days. It’s hell without you guys. Maybe I’ve gotten used to waking you all up for an hour in the mornings.”

“Hey, it’s all because of Papa!”

“He does sleep in twice as long as us…”

“And it’s gotten even worse now that you’re gone.”

He chuckled at their sulking feeding off each other, and the collective agreement that things just weren’t the same when his lover wasn’t beside him where they belonged. “Then maybe this should be enough to convince them to hurry back to us so we can get up early every day, hmm?”

“Tell me why Luke and Kieran frantically called me up and told me stop you from endangering our one year old girl. Now.”

“Well, hello to you too, sweetie.” Sylus rolled his eyes at the clearly enthusiastic greeting. “I’ve missed you too. I’m doing good without you for two weeks. Thanks for asking.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t give me that crap. You’ll live.” Scoffing, they crossed their arms in front of their chest. “Less avoiding the topic, more explaining why your seconds in command are treating you like a ticking bomb.”

“They’re more like lackeys, you know.” A hint of irritation climbed up his spine. Luke and Kieran were more like lost puppies that would be a danger to themselves—and society—if they were left to their whims. That’s all that they were (or so he tried to convince himself).

They waved him off, knowing that his half-assed words weren’t to be taken seriously. “I beg to differ. Now, where is she and what happened?”

Silence settled for a few moments, but then he realized it wasn’t in his favor to not quickly come clean. “She was playing around with me in bed, then seemed fascinated by my left pocket. Said pocket… may or may not have had a gun.”

Leaning in close to the camera, they sighed heavily, and pinched the bridge of their nose. “And I’m assuming her magic little fingers found the trigger.”

“More or less yes,” he mumbled under his breath, swallowing thickly as he met their dead-eyed stare. “Had to whip it out and fling it across the room… which may or may not have caused it to slam into the new bookcase and send it toppling.”

It didn’t matter how many people he’d managed to fearlessly face down; pinned underneath his partner’s disapproval, he found himself unable to move. “And that’s where they came in?”

Sylus hummed, flipping the camera and showing them the fractured remains on the floor. “Sorry about that, sweetie. Didn’t have the time to clean it up, what with feeding her and getting her ready for bed.”

“It’s fine, I can build another one.” Their quick dismissal was followed by the furrowing of their eyebrows. “What matters is that you prioritized her safety first.”

“Of course,” he was quick to reply, turning the camera back to himself, before he chuckled a little, sweetness seeping through his voice, “Though I do admit, seeing her have no self-preservation instincts really did make her strikingly similar to you in that regard.”

“Really flattering, hearing you praise her brashness and compare it to mine.” Their expression then grew more serious, and they worried their bottom lip between their teeth. “But… please. Don’t keep any weapons in the same room as her. She’s naturally curious.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” he murmured, having had his dose of sheer panic at her tiny hands. He couldn’t remember a moment in his life when he’d been as terrified as he was earlier, his blood turning to ice at the thought of endangering her because of his own fast-paced life.

“I know you’ll be more careful. You’re so good to her—and me,” they quietly mused, a grateful look on their face as they admired him—tired ruby eyes, unruly silver hair, and all.

And Sylus had no control over his own lovesick stare, perfectly content with dancing in their palm for the rest of their lives. After all, he’d found the only two people in this world he could forfeit his life for. There was no shame in admitting it—and so he did, ever so softly. “I suppose you can take pride in knowing that you both have me wrapped around your fingers.”

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[daenysx]

Gentle Sirius x virgin reader who’s never told anyone she hasn’t done it before and tells Sirius right when they’re about to do the deed and Sirius is really nice about it and helps her ease into it? (Also maybe a moment when she’s uncomfortable with the pain when he enters? I usually see fics like this written a bit unrealistically with no initial pain or discomfort and I’m like “how?!😭”)

thank you for requesting, i hope you enjoy ♡ requests are open!!

sirius black x fem!reader, nsfw

insatiable, little trouble

sirius loves the way you pull his hair.

your fingers are so gentle but also cruel, the feeling on his scalp makes his blood rush and he kisses you harder. you suck his bottom lip, his tongue brushes yours, and you pull yourself to lie back on bed.

sirius laughs at your poor attempts to catch your breath. "sorry, lovely. was it too much?"

you shake your head, smiling. "you're not really sorry."

"no, i'm not." he whispers on your cheek. "i love seeing you on my bed."

you clench your legs slightly, hearing sirius's voice so close to your ear does something to you. you press a kiss on his skin, his hair still between your fingers. he kisses your cheek and your jawline, he moves his lips on you until you get ticklish from the insistent kisses on your neck.

sirius is breathless this time. "yeah, maybe we should take a break, i'm not strong enough to continue." he laughs and stays still on you. he tries to make you smile, and you do, but it's a different smile than your usual ones.

"what?" he asks quietly. he brushes one last kiss on your cheekbone before he quirks an eyebrow at you. "tell me what you think, lovely."

your fingers are drawing circles on his neck, and you try to combine the words in your mind before you say them. it's so obvious in your actions, so clear that you want him. he'll make you say it though, you know that. sirius will always expect you to say what you want even though he understands, because he wants that comfort of words between you two.

"i was thinking- maybe we should continue, siri." you say.

"of course we can, baby." he says back. "what would you like to do?"

his voice is so gentle and sweet, you know he's not teasing. this is a first in your relationship and you feel ready enough to live this with him. he makes you feel brave, like you can get anything you want. he rubs your arm to make you focus on your thoughts, he's patient enough for both of you.

"do you want to have sex with me?" you ask, and it sounds ridiculous because he's literally hard against your leg right now.

"this is- no, i'm not kidding, the best question i've ever heard, and my answer is yes." he says, he is smiling. "but i want what you want. if you want, then yes. if you don't, then no."

"no, i just- i want you. i want to be closer, i want us to have this, but-"

"huh? what's the but, sweetheart?"

"i've never had sex before." you say, you know he will never ever tease you. "i guess i don't really know what to expect."

sirius kisses your upper lip. "it's okay not to know, we can discover what you like together."

"but i want to know what you like." you say, your eyes almost close with the contentment of sharing this with him.

"of course you can, we can just- learn it together, yeah? we've got lots of time, we don't have to rush."

"can we start now? it feels good, siri." you say, wrapping your legs around his waist.

"okay." he gets serious. "let's get rid of our clothes, and then i can get my pretty girl ready for me."

you are quick to take your shirt off, he helps you with your pants. he kisses your thighs and knees, throws his own shirt on the floor. he gets up for one moment to take his pants off, and then he's on your body, your naked skins touching each other.

sirius kisses your collarbones, your neck, and the soft curve of your breasts. you lift yourself to help him take your bra off. he seems happy to see you bare and you don't feel shy with him. he takes your nipple in his mouth and sucks it with closed eyes.

your fingers find their way back to his hair. he moves to your other nipple, kissing it first and then taking it in his hot mouth. you arch your back, he uses his other hand to squeeze your boob gently. he stands straight, fingers on your panties.

"can i take this off, lovely girl?" he asks, and you nod, lifting your hips to help him.

he kisses your belly and your panties join the other discarded clothes. his hands part your thighs, he brushes his lips on your cunt and you shiver. you squirm under his hands, and he looks at you. "oh, baby. i just gotta get you nice and wet for me, yeah?" he asks, and you nod. "can you tell me what you like?"

"maybe- maybe with your fingers- i can never reach too far myself but i like it when i'm touched a bit lower than that."

sirius nods, brings his fingers to your face to cup your cheek first. "you wanna get my fingers wet, darling? yeah? open your mouth for me."

you take two of his fingers in your mouth and suck slightly. he doesn't waste any time, but he tries anything to get you more in the mood. he presses a little on your tongue until he sees your throat clenching and then pulls his fingers back.

there's a wetness that started pooling down your cunt since his first kiss. he uses his fingers well, opens you up, and touches you softly. it's his middle finger first, just to make you get ready for the rest. he puts it inside slowly, you try to close your legs but he keeps them open with his other hand. he moves his finger a little, it's obvious on your face that you like what he's doing.

"another finger? i think we're doing a good job so far." he says, his voice slowly turns into his usual teasing.

he adds another finger and moves both of his fingers according to a pace that makes you stretch. the wetness is incredible, sirius touches the places you can never reach by yourself. you arch your back, the overwhelming hope of an orgasm makes you dizzy.

"you're doing so well for me, i knew you'd be my good girl." he says, following every reaction he can get from you.

you blush, smile with your eyes closed. your hips move involuntarily when he starts rubbing your swollen clit with his thumb. you aren't surprised how quickly he found it, it's begging for attention under his fingers.

"you like it so much, don't you, baby? soaking my fingers when i call you my good girl, pulling me inside like that." he says, the pressure on your clit increases. "you're gonna ruin me."

you moan his name loudly when he presses his fingers there, the soft spot you've only managed to find once, that makes your legs shake. "here? okay, baby." he keeps rubbing there with long fingers. "can you tell me when you're close?"

you nod, closing your eyes when it gets impossible to resist. you move your hips against his hand, he's playing with you and he's perfect at doing it. "siri, can i come? so close- if you keep doing that."

sirius listens, bites his lip as he focuses. "you can come, baby. whenever you want."

you nod again, holding onto his free hand, and waiting for the bubble to snap. you can actually feel your muscles relax, your brain closes off, every thought that keeps you awake disappears. you can see his tattooed fingers moving between your legs and that does it.

you think it maybe lasts for a few minutes to come down from your high. you know it's because how much you trust sirius and how comfortable he makes you feel that he managed to make you come. it's not only physical, it's more. you can feel he's rubbing your thigh, he's kissing your knees. he pulls his hand when he thinks you're ready.

when you open your eyes and look at him, he's already watching you. "that was- wow." you manage to say.

sirius is undeniably proud and happy. "i was thinking the same thing, my angel. would you like to do that on my cock?"

you nod, hungry for more. his dirty words can get you anywhere, you like it so much when they come out of his mouth and directed at you. he gets rid of his boxers, his cock twitches against his belly.

"can i touch you?" you ask, finally get back at the world and sitting on bed.

"sure, my love. do you want me to show you how?"

"yes, please."

"fuck, i'm afraid i'm gonna have to eat you up with how sweet you're being. give me your hand."

you smile, give him your hand, and let him bring it to his cock. he curves your fingers to wrap them around himself, he is thicker than you expected, and lovely, you think. he pushes his hips against your hand just like you were doing before and you can feel him throbbing under your fingers.

"you know, siri, i'd hate to be weird." you begin, try to tease him like he does you. "but i just wanna kiss it silly right now."

sirius throws his head back and laughs loudly. "no worries, that was my first thought when i saw your sweet cunt."

your smile never fades with him, you bring your thumb to the tip of his cock and he holds your hand. "okay, pretty, i think that's enough now."

"why?" you ask, a little sad.

"i wanna be inside your cunt when i come, and i won't last if you keep touching me like that."

"mm-hmm, okay." you say. "should i just lay back?"

"you can stay anyway you like. you can be on top if you'll feel more comfy."

"i'm not sure if my legs are strong enough."

sirius kisses the back of your hand, giving you a beautiful smile. "i can be on top of you. hold onto me and remember to talk to me all the time, yeah?"

you lay back, the pillow is soft under your head. "i'll remember."

"good girl." he says, holding your thighs and angling your body. "that's what you are, my love, you are being so good for me."

he moves on his knees and you shiver slightly when the tip of his cock touches your cunt. you are still wet from early, and stretched. "i just need you to relax." he says. "the more you're relaxed the easier we'll do it."

"i'm relaxed." you say. "promise, i'm ready."

he nods, moving a little more to get closer. he uses his fingers to lead himself inside, he pushes in slowly. you move unconsciously, you are wet but it's more than his fingers and it's unusual for you.

he pushes a little more and you make a sound. sirius is cautious, he pulls back immediately. "did i hurt you? are you okay?"

you try for a smile. "no, it's just- a little uncomfortable right now."

"do you want to continue? we can stop."

"no, i don't want to stop, please." you say. "i can take it, siri, i want you."

sirius rubs your thigh. "i think it's normal, feeling uncomfortable at first. we'll go really slow, baby."

"okay." you say. "can you kiss me?"

he leans in a little more, kissing your lips. you hold onto his shoulders and he deepens the kiss, his hand rubbing your thigh to help you relax. he tries to be inside you again, really slow and careful.

you draw little circles on his shoulders with the tip of your fingers, trying to distract yourself from sudden pain. it's not too much, but you think the feeling is still weird. sirius kisses your chin, his hips moving towards yours to let you have all of him.

"are you okay, lovely thing?" he murmurs. "you're doing perfect for me, taking all of it."

he moves himself with a different angle and your legs shake. "sirius." you whimper. "right there."

he hits the same spot again. "yeah? it should be better now, sweetheart."

you try to lift yourself against him, just to feel his cock pressing there again. "it's better." you say. "it's-oh, it's perfect, siri."

he starts moving according to a certain pace now, hitting your sweet spot. you are stretched around him, still wet and getting wetter, the weird feeling is still there but you can definitely ignore it thanks to the pleasure you get.

"gonna take care of you so well." sirius says, kissing your neck. "make you feel so good."

you are a mess under him, and you love it. "yes, yes, please." you whimper his name. "oh, sirius!"

"fuck." he says, moving a little bit faster. "gonna come for me, pretty girl? gonna make a mess for me? i can feel it- you're almost there."

you nod, taking all of him inside you. it's a good feeling, being this close to him. sirius fills your senses so well, you never want to leave him. this is gonna be a new addiction and you can't help but thinking all the new things you can try with him, the thought of giving him the same kind of pleasure he gives you now makes you arch your back.

"i'm- so close, siri." you say, breathless.

"me too, baby." he says, sucking a spot on your collarbone. "now, be a good girl and come around me."

you are shaking under him as he starts rubbing your clit. the orgasm takes you, it's intense and everything you ever wanted with sirius. he holds you, you close your eyes. he kisses your shoulder, your neck. he keeps moving slowly to help you ride out your orgasm and you pull his hair slightly as you come down from your high.

you hold onto his hair a little harder to get his face closer to yours, and you kiss the skin under his ear. "come inside me." you say. "please, i want it."

sirius obeys, and it only takes one last movement for him to lose himself. he puts his head on your chest as he comes, sucking your nipple unconciously. he whispers your name, and he's sure he almost drifts off. it's a strong urge but you keep him with you, you stroke his hair and wrap your arms around him.

after he calms down, sirius lifts himself on bed to look at you properly. you smile at him, he thinks you look gorgeous. "did you like it?" he asks, giving you a smile back.

"did i like it?" you quirk an eyebrow. "i thought it was obvious, siri."

"say it again for me, love." he can beg you.

"i loved it so much." you say, reaching his face to cup his cheek. "i want to do it again."

sirius laughs. "are you gonna be an insatiable, little trouble for me? is that it?"

"you just created a monster."

he kisses your hand. "oh, yeah. my little monster, i want you close to me all the fucking time."

he gets clingier after sex, you realize. he keeps touching you more than usual and checks on your body. "are you hurting anywhere?" he asks.

you shake your head. "no, it was unusual at first but- i really liked it. didn't hurt too much, i'll be fine."

he nods, leans in to give you a kiss.

"can we have shower?" you ask.

"nope, i'm gonna fill the tub for my baby." he replies. "we should make sure you're comfortable and not hurting, i don't wanna rush cleaning you up."

you kiss him thank you. he kisses you on your forehead after that, he knows you'll probably be sore later. still, he's gonna make sure you're fine, he loves taking care of you. you kiss him until he has to leave to fill the tub, and he carries you to the bathroom. the rest of the evening is spent with sirius spoiling you, never letting you leave the blankets on the couch and filling your stomach with hot chocolate.

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

How about an Emily Prentiss x reader smut where she uses a strap on the reader for the first time

Hey, anon! So sorry it's taking me like a million years to get through these requests. But, as always, please keep them coming! – illdowhatiwantthanks

Control

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: NSFW (18+ MDNI), smut, literally just unfettered smut, strap-on, mentions of AFAB genitalia, explicit language (let me know if I've missed anything!) Word count: 1.4k

Summary: It's your first time being strapped, and you're nervous as hell. Thankfully, Emily knows what she's doing. 😉

NOTE: This can be read as older Emily or younger Emily, whatever your preference. I just haven't had a chance to use a GIF of absolutely fucking FINE gray-haired Emily yet, so....

You eyed the strap suspiciously from your perch on the bed as Emily harnessed herself up. You exhaled shakily and thought to yourself, There’s no way that’s gonna fit inside me.

Emily gave you a small smile when she looked in your direction. “You alright?” she asked, her voice confident yet concerned.

You nodded, but your voice shook. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

Emily chuckled, crawling toward you on the bed and placing her hand on the side of your face before kissing you. You were breathless by the time she let you go, with a quick peck on the tip of your nose.

“You’re a bad liar,” she said, smirking and sitting back. “If you don’t want to do this, we don’t have to.”

You picked at your fingernails and avoided her eyes.

Emily nudged you with her shoulder. “I think you’ll like it though. But say the word and we’ll do something else. It’s not a big deal, okay?”

You furrowed your eyebrows, staring hard at the strap. “I mean, women enjoy this, right? Hypothetically?”

Emily shrugged. “I think it depends on the woman.”

“Have you done it before? R-received?” you asked, blushing a little.

“Yeah,” Emily told you, taking your hand in hers and running her finger along the lines of your palm. “With men, though. Never with a woman.”

“Why not?” you thought out loud.

Emily bit her lip. “When I started sleeping with women, I just… found a different role, sexually. One I liked better.”

“But did you like it when you did? Before?” You were far enough in now you might as well keep asking.

“I don’t know that my experiences with men are what you want to be comparing this to. At least, I certainly hope not.”

“But you think I’ll like it?” you asked, incredulous.

“Honey,” she said, grasping your chin to look you in the eyes. “We really don’t have to do this if you’re not ready.”

“No, no! I… I want to, I’m just… nervous,” you admitted.

“Look at me, baby,” she said, maneuvering your body gently down on the bed, running her thumbs gently over your cheekbones. “I might be the one with the strap, but you’re the one in control. Alright? You say the word, I’ll stop. I promise. We’ll go slow, okay? Slow and gentle.”

You nodded and let Emily kiss you again, harder, more frantic than before. You moaned into her as she caressed your body, as she placed open-mouthed kisses down your neck and across your collarbone.

You buried your hands in her hair, back arched, as she slowly swirled her tongue around your nipples, excruciatingly slow, until they were hardened into swollen peaks. You felt the cool line of her tongue draw a line from your rib cage down to your lower stomach, and you writhed as Emily placed ghostly, light kisses on your inner thighs and around your clit.

You could feel yourself glistening, feel the wetness between your legs. You were ready for more.

“Em, please,” you protested when she sat up. You opened your eyes to find Emily sitting back and applying lube to the strap, pupils absolutely blown, staring at you with equal parts love and hunger.

She wiped her hands off on the towel draped over the nightstand, then leaned forward, brushing your hair out of your face. “Are you ready?”

You nodded, gripping the bed sheets in both anxiety and anticipation.

Emily stared pointedly at you. “You’re sure?” You nodded again and she prompted. “Words, please.”

“Yes, Em,” you whispered breathlessly. “I’m ready for you.”

She blinked and shook her head, as if your words were a little too much for her.

“Tell me if I need to stop,” she said, maneuvering the strap so that it rubbed against your entrance.

You let out a strangled moan, somewhere between a scared yelp and a groan of pleasure, as Emily pressed into you, slowly filling you up.

You almost had a hard time catching your breath, as if all your body’s attention was now solely focused on this overwhelming, foreign thing inside of it. It wasn’t necessarily bad, just new, but your body did not seem to know what to do with it, and you could feel your insides pulsing with both pleasure and pain, trying to adjust to the new sensation.

When Emily had pressed most of the strap inside of you, she leaned down to caress your face, planting kisses on your forehead. “Good girl, honey. You’re doing so good for me. Are you okay?”

You nodded, face beet red from the pain and from holding your breath.

“Breathe for me, baby, alright?” Emily asked, slowly starting to rock her hips, moving the strap in and out. “Look at me, look at my face. Breathe. Like this.”

You followed the pattern of Emily’s breath to catch yours, and when you’d finally regulated your breathing, everything else seemed to fall into place too. You weren’t exactly in pain anymore as much as you were… full. But… in a good way? In a way that felt oddly wonderful? Maybe it was the physical sensation of the strap and maybe it was the knowledge that a part of Emily was inside of you that shot arousal straight from your head to your toes.

You whined a bit and moved your hips to meet Emily’s as a wave of pleasure rolled through you, intensified by whatever mysterious spot inside of you Emily had found and was now hitting relentlessly.

“Fuck, baby,” Emily breathed, and you could tell from her voice, from the flush of her chest, by the way her breath was frantic and caught every few minutes, that she was wildly turned on. And it was at that moment–staring up at Emily, seeing the sweat the beaded her forehead, the scrunch of her eyebrows in deep concentration, her hips against you in that way, particular to Emily, that always let you know she was trying hard and largely failing not to chase her orgasm–that you realized Emily was right.

It was you who had the power here. You who could make Emily fall apart, could drive her crazy. And you felt drunk all at once on power and pleasure–particularly the pleasure of seeing Emily losing her fucking mind on top of you.

With one hand, you pulled at her hips, encouraging her to go deeper, faster, harder. With the other, you cupped the back of her neck and drew her close to you, moaning in her ear.

“Holy shit,” she whispered, breath catching in her throat.

“Come on, Em,” you whispered. “You’re so close. Come on, baby, I want you to come inside me.”

The thrusting of her hips became sloppier and sloppier as she chased her high, her face pressed into your neck so that you could hear her huffs of breath, could smell her sweat as she worked for it.

Her noises became high and desperate and you felt your own orgasm close behind, knew it would come just from watching Emily fall apart, just from feeling her lose herself inside of you.

Emily’s breath hitched in her throat and you knew she was there. You pressed your own hips into hers, grinding into her, shoving the strap deeper as she jerked against you, until your own vision blurred and you wrapped yourself around Emily, riding out your high.

With a final shaky thrust into you, Emily collapsed against you, sweaty and spent. You grinned a her as she caught her breath, rolling to lay on your chest.

“Fuck,” she gasped, trying to get enough air. “You’re sure you haven’t done that before?”

You kissed her forehead and swiped a strand of hair off her sweaty forehead. “I only take strap for you, honey.”

Emily shuddered, then carefully slid out of you. “You,” she said, burying her tongue in your mouth as she removed the harness and threw it to the side of the room. “Are perfect.”

You kissed her back, surprised at how quickly arousal flooded back into your body.

“Hey,” you said, breathless, pulling your sticky bodies apart to look at her.

“What?”

“Next time,” you told her. “I want to ride you.”

Her eyes grew wide, and she nearly fell out of bed feeling for the harness again.

“How soon is next time?” she asked, glancing at you before strapping up.

“How soon can you get that on?” you grinned, sitting back to admire her.

[luveline]

hi miss jade <3 if it hasn’t been done already, could you possibly write poly!marauders with a depressed reader? maybe she’s having a particularly hard time lately and she’s trying to hide it from them but they notice she’s been really quiet recently. then one day while they’re all just sitting together, one of them looks over and sees a tear rolling down her cheek and they comfort her </3 if this isn’t something you’re up to writing i understand! thank you nonetheless lovely <3

thank u for ur request lovely!

modern au 

“No,” Remus is whispering, “that's the other actor.” 

James leans into his side. You've successfully crammed yourselves onto the three seater sofa, all four of you. You're on one arm, Sirius the other. If Sirius and James sit together during a movie they won't stop talking, and if you and Remus sit together you'll spend the entire movie telling each other what other movies the actors have been in. 

James and Remus seem to have found a loophole. Sirius tries uselessly to reach over their shoulders to touch you, but James blocks him by accident, head tilting back in a laugh. 

You aren't in the mood for movies. Not their fault, not anyone's, but a melancholy has its hooks in you, and you'd excuse yourself to spend time alone with it if it didn't immediately draw their attention. You're not sure you want to be alone, either. 

James reaches for your hand even as he speaks to Remus excitedly, “He's Ryan Gosling, right?” 

“Yeah, James,” —said with love— “that's Ryan Gosling.” 

You hold James' hand. It's a very real, very gentle tether, but eventually the noise in the room turns white. You lay your cheek on the sofa arm and watch the movie pass by in colours. Dusky orange, pink, blue rain. Your hard times recently have felt longer, deeper, and you've floundered in them helplessly. 

Though the boys couldn't make it worse, their devotion tends to hurt. You feel like you're letting them down whenever you can't fight your lethargy. Even now when you're together for a normal night, you're stuck under the weight of it. You could be playing with James’ hair the way he loves, or telling Remus something interesting about the movie. You could crawl across the two chatterboxes and ask Sirius what he did at work today while he draws shapes into the back of your hand. But you're not. And everything begins to feel worse. 

The TV flickers. The room hums. The tear that slides down your cheek is hot as the drag of a pin. 

You shift down into the arm to hide it as more follow. James pulls his hand away, and you assume he's just getting comfortable, but he puts it on your shoulder, the sofa whining as he leans in. “Hey…” he whispers, nearly too soft to hear. He must've been watching you. They've been doing that more and more lately. 

Your shoulders shake as the first sob brews. They aren't overly loud, you aren't wound tightly enough to really cry, you're just defeated. Tired and scared that this feeling is forever. 

The contented atmosphere in the room drains quicker than snapped fingers. “What's wrong?” Sirius asks. 

You curl away from James. You can't pretend you aren't crying and you don't really want to, but something about his touch feels raw. He comes closer, leaning into you, hand chasing around to your front where it rests over your heart. “It's okay,” he says soundly. “Oh, honey, it's okay.” 

James isn't as heavy with the pet names as the other two. When he does use them, they're genuine but said in high spirits. Almost like a joke, his ever-present humour shining through. He's warm and steady behind you, his lips brushing your ear as he hugs you to his chest. “It's okay,” he whispers, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. 

“Sorry.” 

Remus says your name unhappily. They know better than to converge on you, and James has always been good at comforting people. Maybe his solidness in both physicality and personality does him credit, but more likely it's his unending patience. He doesn't rush you into feeling better. He just stays right there at your side until you stop shaking. 

“Sorry,” you say again, voice in fractured layers, “I don't know…” 

“I know,” he says. “Let's sit up, okay? Sit up.”

Remus gives you a look with just enough heartbreak that when he holds out his hand, you raise yourself up, knowing James will take you by the waist and help you over his lap. You smush in between their legs as Remus wipes your face dry, and Sirius meets your eyes around his shoulder. It all works to lift the weight from your chest, not fully, but enough to breathe. 

“You don't have to explain.” 

“Just don't cry more,” Sirius begs. He really hates tears, doesn't know what to do with them. “You're too lovely for tears.” 

“Unless you need to,” James says. 

“Right,” Sirius agrees through a wince. 

“She's okay,” Remus says, rubbing your cheek with his knuckles, “hmm? You're alright.” 

He isn't pressuring you into pretending things are better than they are, he's encouraging, and he knows as you know that you're not very well, but you'll manage in the end. You sink back into James arms and smile at them weakly. 

“I'm okay. I just wanted James to rub my stomach, that's all.” 

“Theatrics in the name of attention,” Sirius says proudly. “As you should.” 

James wraps his arms around your front, giving your abdomen a squeeze as he leans down to say, “I'll rub your stomach all night if you want me to,” with a warmth so tender it escapes words. 

Remus drops back into Sirius rather aggressively. “Make haste.” 

“Make haste?” Sirius presses his nose into Remus’ curls, his voice dripping with a feigned contempt, “You make haste, you sick freak.” And then he raises his hand to cover Remus' stomach in mirror of James’ touch. 

You breathe out long and slow, eyes closing of their own accord. “I'm not going to sleep, okay? I'm just tired.” 

James gets comfortable underneath you. “Do what you want, babe. I'm here for the night. If I need to pee I'll just hoist you into Moony's lap for a bit.” 

“I can fit two, thanks,” Sirius interjects. 

“Fine. I'll hoist you into his lap. Though I've no clue why you'd want to spend any time with that bossy bastard.” 

[xxchumanixx]

Hii, can you write one with reader that is Tim’s rookie, she is really flirty and an extrovert with him, but one day she sets him up, like Lucy did. He gets upset because he feels like she led him on and then he starts a full on love confession because she is the one he wants. And then smut, very sweet with her kinda dom but both of them are switch

Lead me on

Tim Bradford x rookie!reader

Warnings/Tags: 18+, mdni!, smut, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), slight fingering, fluff, angst, hurt

Word count: 4.545

Authors note: Hello love, thanks for the request! Really liked the idea, and I hope you'll like how I wrote it. Im glad to find my way back to writing your requests and I hope that I'll be a bit quicker with posting again!

Now, enjoy!

Tim had noticed that you were lost in thought, for the third time this shift.

He'd seen you chew on your bottom lip, worrying about you drawing crimson, so hard you'd bitten down on the soft cushion.

It made him wonder what had you so deeply thinking, as he bit on his own lip.

"Everything okay?" he breached the silence, only then noticing how heavy it had been weighing in the air between you. Looking up from the dark display of your phone, you nodded.

"I'm just thinking about something, nothing important." you tried to soothe his worry, sending him a small smile that was meant to reassure him.

He cocked a brow, reading you like an open book. "Don't lie to me, boot."

You hated the nickname, instead wanting him to call you different names - very different ones.

Swallowing, you looked back down. You had to at least test it, see how he'd react. So you gathered all your nerves, reminding yourself, that you wanted to do this as a prank.

It was meant to be funny, after all.

"You said I could be open with you." you began, fumbling with your phone in your hands. He nodded, motioning for you to continue, as you hesitated.

"I have feelings for you."

The shop skidded to a stop on the empty street, as he suddenly slammed the breaks, the seat belt holding you firmly in place. Shock was clear as day on his face, as he looked at you, before he gathered himself enough to park at the sidewalk.

You had to be out of your damn mind, he thought, his heart - unbeknownst to him - matching the racing of yours.

The sudden movement when he stopped the car again, almost had you laughing despite everything, ruining the prank. But the shock on his face, made you swallow.

Maybe he wouldn't find it as funny as you would do. At least you hoped you would at the end of the day.

"Wait-" he asked of you, his tongue brushing over his lower lip in uneasiness. He didn't know how to react properly, you had hit him like a truck with your confession.

"Y/N-" he began, taking a deep breath, as he tried to make sense of the situation, get a hold of it. "Look, you're a beautiful woman - really you are. But you're my rookie, a-and-" he had to stop himself, biting his lip.

This had to be a bad joke.

You did the same, your lip hurting as you bit down to stop yourself from laughing, teeth almost drawing blood. Even if you actually had feelings for him, the moment he would find out you're pranking him, would still be priceless.

The silence grew tense, as the playfulness of the situation slowly faded, though.

Maybe you shouldn't have done this.

He swallowed, you heard it. "Tim-" "Y/N-" you interrupted each other, both closing your mouths.

"I'll go first." you decided before he was able to speak up again, taking a shaky breath. "It was a prank - or at least it was supposed to be one. It should have been funny, but it wasn't. I'm sorry."

He inhaled sharply, as he abruptly turned his head away from you.

That was not how you expected him to react.

Swallowing, you kneaded your hands, the phone tugged away under your thigh. Were you supposed to say something?

Before you could, though, he turned back around sharply, gaze hardened as he fumed silently, with his tongue nudging against the inside of his cheek.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" he then suddenly snapped, causing you to flinch in your seat.

Yeah, you had definitely crossed a line there.

He inhaled deeply, trying to calm himself in case he would miss when the radio turned on - failing miserably.

"What do you mean you wanted to prank me? Telling me that you have feelings for me, practically running me over like a bus with your confession! What did you think you were doing? What did you expect?"

You were taken aback by his sudden outburst, not sure how to react. Or how to make up for it, if you'd get out of this alive in the first place.

"I-I-" you stuttered, looking down on your fidgeting hands. "I didn't mean to upset you like that, really. I thought you'd find it funny."

His brows twitched, as did his mouth. He felt like you'd just ran him over again with that damn bus.

"But it isn't." he stated, gaze fixed on you. "It isn't funny. For a moment I thought you'd mean what you said. But then you tell me it's a prank."

He almost sounded hurt, somehow.

Turning away from him, you bit on your cheek, the flesh already raw from all the biting. It was a nervous habit of yours, one you weren't able to get rid of.

Your cheeks burned, most likely turning a deep shade of red.

Honestly, you had expected a lot, but not this.

Lucy had told you how he reacted when she did it - okay, maybe it wasn't original to copy her prank, but she told you how funny it was, so you thought what could go wrong?

A lot, apparently.

But why did he react so differently now?

You were a mere inch away from leaving the car, quitting your job. It was so embarrassing, and you were sure you'd never recover from this.

The silence grew more tense the more time passed, as neither of you knew what to say.

Would he report you? Get you fired? He had your fate in his hands, after all.

"I'm sorry." you pressed out through clenched teeth, trying to not burst into tears. The fact that he reacted that way, made you even more insecure about your feelings for him.

If he'd react like this, getting angry at you, when you'd tell him honestly, you didn't know what you would do.

He forced the car to move again, angrily shifting it into drive, before you drove down the quiet street.

He didn't even react to you trying to apologize.

Breathing in shakily, you looked out at the street, straightening your posture. You had to be attentive. If you'd miss anything, it surely wouldn't help his sour mood.

For a while it was quiet, and for the first time since you drove with Tim, you were happy about your shift ending soon, as the sun settled.

When he parked the car in the garage, you hastily climbed out, opening the trunk to gather the bags and guns. He stayed in his seat, only leaving the car when you closed the trunk again.

Without sparing him another glance, you walked to the output, handing Jerry the items with a forced smile.

The old man didn't know what happened, so you tried to be as calm as possible.

Walking to the locker room, you hurried to get changed, stuffing your things into your backpack, before you slung it over your shoulder.

You didn't wait for Lucy, as you'd normally would when your shifts ended at the same time, instead walking straight towards the exit.

How would the following day get? Would he stay angry at you? Would he ask to be replaced as your TO?

You desperately hoped not, even if you'd never be able to look into his eyes again.

Wiping at your eyes, you put the backpack on the passenger's seat, slamming the door shut, before walking around the car to get inside.

"Y/N!" you heard someone call out your name, panicking as you realized it was Tim, who'd been standing at his truck, now walking towards you.

You hadn't seen him before in the darkness of the parking lot.

It was out of instinct, that you climbed inside the car, starting it, before you hastily moved out of the parking lot.

He knew you'd heard him, your eyes had found his after he'd called out to you. That you were ignoring him now, driving past him, as he stood speechless where your car had been parked, caused his heart to crack.

Had he scared you off?

He was sure he'd upset you, there was no denying it, but that you simply ignored him and chose to flee instead, made him feel all the more insecure.

His heartbeat felt cold in his chest, as he gripped the straps of his backpack tighter.

He had to follow you.

And so he did.

After a few turns, you saw his headlights behind you - his car familiar enough to recognize them. Groaning, you tried to concentrate on the street, ignoring him for the moment, as your heart picked up its pace and your hands began to sweat.

When you eventually parked in your driveway, he parked right behind you, effectively blocking your car, so there was no way for you to escape him again.

Or better yet, flee again.

Now angry, you got out of your car, walking straight towards him as he did the same.

"What do you want?" you asked, frustration seeping out of your pores. "I want to talk." he gave back just as evenly frustrated, stopping a few feet away from you. "I wanted to talk back at the parking lot, but you just drove away."

Your cheeks grew uncomfortably hot, gaze shifting from Tim to the ground beneath him. It seemed so ridiculous to you now, the way you chose to flee instead of letting him confront you.

He would have either way.

A humorless chuckle left you, followed by another. "And now?" you wanted to know, looking back up at him with crossed arms. "Do you want me to tell you I'm sorry? I already did. It was just a stupid prank, I don't even know why you followed me or what you wanna talk about."

Your self defenses flickered to life, not sure what he wanted to hear from you.

His jaw ticked, teeth gritting.

"Did you do it on purpose?" he asked, shaking his head as a look you weren't able to place passed over his features. "Did you lead me on?"

Your brows knitted together in confusion, not fully understanding him. "What do you mean, leading you on?"

He huffed, taking a small step closer, causing you to swallow at the nerves bubbling up inside you, trying to fight them.

"I mean the constant flirting, the way you talk to me." he started to explain, taking another step closer. "The way your hand would brush mine, a simple touch so irrelevant, yet so important. The way you made me-"

He cut himself off, the sentence being left hanging in the air. But you wanted to know the rest of it, wanted to know why he was saying these things.

"Made you what?" you demanded to know, head tilting as your brows furrowed even more.

The light on your porch went out, engulfing you in darkness, but with a flick of your hand it came back to life, illuminating his features in the golden hue again.

Illuminating how painfully handsome he was.

Instead of answering your question, he decided otherwise.

"I believed you, when you told me you have feelings for me." he began, swallowing, as one of his hands balled into a fist at his side. "I believed you and I hoped for it to be true. But then you tell me it's a prank - I-"

He cut himself off again, shaking his head in disappointment, as his eyes looked away. He bit his lip, tearing at the soft cushion so hard, it almost ripped.

Meanwhile, your heart seemed to have caught on fire. You didn't quite get what he wanted to say, yet, but your body grew warmer, the more he spoke.

He ignited the smallest flame of hope inside you. It licked at your heartstrings dangerously, threatening to burn you at any moment.

"I got defensive, pushing you away." he eventually continued, looking back up. The fire in his eyes seemed diminished, their light faded.

"I was angry - to be honest I still am. I wanted to wait for your training to be over, before I- Before I would ask you out on a date."

Your breath hitched in your throat, body involuntarily taking a step back, as the force of his words hit you, setting the small flame ablaze. It momentarily knocked the air out of your lungs, the blood pumping loudly in your ears.

You must have misheard him - that was the only explanation.

He had planned to ask you out on a date?

Tears welled up in your eyes, a horrible realization settling in your stomach, quickly drowning the growing flame: you had scared him off, hurt his feelings.

It was a feeling you didn't like - not at all.

You wanted to say something, but he was faster.

"All this time I thought your flirts and the things you did were intentional, had a meaning. But now I know, that I was wrong. All you did was lead me on, making me believe that you felt the same way, but I was wrong."

"Tim-" you dared to speak up, interrupting him as you took a step back towards him. The words got stuck in your throat, though.

Would he even believe you?

He shook his head, biting his cheek, drawing blood. But he didn't even flinch at the sting it brought, instead breathing it in, to distract him from the turmoil of feelings raging inside him.

"I was so excited, because I was happy that your training is over soon." he continued, breathing in through his nose deeply, as his voice shook the slightest bit. "I was excited, because the waiting would have finally been over. But - again - I was wrong. I have feelings for you, and you decided to make my heart leap out of my chest, just so you could crush it all in the same breath."

You felt like he'd slapped you across the face. His words sent a chill down your spine, knowing that he wouldn't easily forgive you, if he even would in the first place.

"Made you what?" you rasped out, choking on your tears as you demanded an answer for your earlier question. He tensed, swallowing, before he finally answered.

"Made me fall in love with you."

One of the tears spilled, followed by another and another. Eyes closing, your head hang low. His confession was what you had hoped to hear for the last months, almost a year, yet it crushed you, groping at you with iron claws.

One stupid prank had ruined everything.

Eyes opening again, you lifted them, meeting his. His gaze was glued to you, even when you hadn't been looking at him. He seemed like he demanded an answer, yet fearing what it would be.

"You are in love with me?" you choked out, hands trembling. Your heart nearly stumbled, having trouble to believe him, but he nodded.

"I'm in love with you, too." you confessed, even though it might have been too late now. "Have been for almost a year now."

Something flashed through his eyes, the light of your porch going out again, before he brought it back to life with a wave if his arm.

Suddenly, he was way closer than before, having used the moment of distraction.

"Say it again." he breathed out, hope making his eyes glitter. "I'm in love with you." you repeated, relishing in the way it made his eyes flutter closed briefly. "Again." he whispered, hands finding yours.

"I'm in love with you, Tim Bradford."

He inhaled sharply, his grip on your hands tightening. "Why did you prank me?" he wanted to know, reigniting the guilt inside you. Sighing, you looked down.

"It was Lucy's idea." you admitted, biting your tear stained lip, tasting the salt. "She told me about how she did it last year, so I thought I could test the waters with it. But you reacted so badly, that I decided to leave it as a prank, not telling you the real intention I had."

"I wanted to be the first." he spoke, tugging at your hands slightly, pulling you closer, as your eyes found their way back to his. "I wanted to ask you out on a date, tell you how I feel. I wanted it to be something special."

Swallowing, you nodded. Your eyes flickered to his lips, his breath on your own.

"Then make it something special." you said, voice husky.

You didn't have to tell him twice, as his lips found yours in an eager kiss. You inhaled him, as you kissed him back. Your hands entangled from his, finding his neck instead. His own grabbed your waist, tugging you closer.

The wood scraped against your back, as he pushed you against the front door of your house, demanding entrance with his tongue.

You greedily let him in, fumbling for your keys, as you did so, coming up with nothing.

His fingers impatiently brushed your pants pocked, eliciting a hushed giggle from you, as he fumbled for your keys.

"God damn it." he grumbled, braking apart from you, as he didn't find them either. Your brows furrowed, as he jogged to your car, ripping the door open and retrieving the key.

In your hurry to get to him, you had left it in the ignition.

Brushing the hair out of your face, you huffed as he held it up, locking your car, before he stepped around you, opening the door to let you both in.

The intensity of the situation was thick, palpable, as he closed the door behind you, not wasting any time to pull you back to him, his lips back on yours.

He blindly walked you backwards into the open living, kitchen and dining area. Your hips hit the dining table, causing the few things on it to rattle and shake. His hands gripped your thighs, helping you to sit on it.

Yours found the hem of his shirt, tugging it upwards, as he did the same with yours. Your arms tangled, causing you to break apart.

His eyes narrowed, as he tugged at your shirt meaningfully, but you were too stubborn to let him go first, as you tugged as well.

You stared each other in the eyes, both too stubborn and dominant to give in. His head dipped down, lips finding your neck. He began to suck, causing your eyes to flutter closed, as you momentarily lost focus.

He used the distraction to remove your hands, tugging the shirt over your head.

You huffed breathlessly, realizing how he had distracted you to go first. He chuckled, sending you a smirk that sent sparks down to your core, making your legs weak.

Removing his shirt as well, you let it fall to the floor, before his lips found your neck again, kissing downwards and over the swell of your breasts, as he pushed you down on the table.

Your breathing faltered, as one of his large hands cupped one of your breasts through the fabric of your bra. His thumb brushed over the covered nipple, making you shiver at the distant sensation.

Suppressing a moan, you pushed up on your elbows, as he unfastened your bra, throwing it on the floor, as his mouth attached to one of the hardened peaks.

His tongue swirled around it, tearing a gasp from you, the pleasure sent straight to your core.

Grabbing his shoulder, you pushed him back. He looked at you with confusion, tilting his head, but you continued pushing, until he was sitting down on the chair beside him, as realization struck him.

Chuckling in amusement, he adjusted so he was sitting more comfortably, eagerly reaching for you as you straddled his lap.  

Your hands found his bare chest, tracing over the muscles that contracted underneath your fingertips at the touch. His hands found your waist, fingers digging into the soft flesh. 

His breathing hitched, as you rolled against his covered erection with your jeans clad core. His grip on you tightened, most likely leaving marks.  

He guided you, as you did it again, softly moaning at the bit of friction it gave you. Pushing down as you did it over and over again, he tried to increase the pressure, his hard-on painfully straining against the fabric of his pants.  

He liked your dominant nature, often having imagined what you’d act like in a situation like this, with unholy thoughts filtering through his mind.  

"Fuck." Tim muttered, hazy from the friction, yet unsatisfied. He tried to regain the upper hand, but you wouldn't let him. Chuckling into his ear, you teased the shell of it with your tongue, his hard-on rocking into you, as he shuddered in response.

Fuck, you were dominant, but so was he.

Letting you continue your movement, he tugged at the button on your jeans, opening it, before he grabbed your ass harshly, causing you to moan into his ear, and he temporarily lost focus at the heavenly sound.

He took you with him as he stood, causing you to yelp slightly in surprise, as he put you back on the table, pushing you down on it, so you were lying on it.

He didn't have the patience to move to another room or surface, as he unzipped your pants, tugging them down your legs along with your panties.

Gasping as the cold air hit your wet cunt, you watched him strip his remaining clothes as well.

He was gorgeous, for all he was worth. Shaped in just the right way, no matter which part of his body.

His lips found yours, as he leaned over you, his fingers parting your folds to collect some of your arousal, before he used it to rub your clit in delicate circles.

You moaned at the feeling, arching into him, as one of his fingers slipped inside you, soon followed by a second, pumping in and out of you, preparing you for his cock, eliciting beautiful sounds from you in which he bathed.

He watched your face as it contorted, teetering on the brink of your first orgasm. Just as you almost made it over the edge, he removed his fingers, using the remaining liquid on them to stroke his cock, aligning it with your entrance.

You fell down the cliff, but on the wrong side, as the build up tension slowly subsided again, leaving you deeply unsatisfied.

He teased you, brushing through your folds with the tip, barely pushing inside. It made you see stars, as you desperately pleaded for more - a stark contrast to the dominance you had emitted only moments ago.

He liked the sound of that even more.

Your pleas were fulfilled, as he suddenly pushed inside, stretching you deliciously. He slowly inched forward, groaning at how tight you gripped him.

You believed to burst, when he filled you to the brim, his hips meeting yours in a chaste kiss, as the tip of his cock lightly brushed your cervix. You moaned, not having expected him to be this big.

His lips attached to your neck, sucking, kissing and nipping, as he waited for your go, hips rutting into you the slightest bit, as he had struggle to compose himself, now that he was finally buried inside your heat.

Your fingertips brushed his nipple and he jerked forward, eyes meeting yours, as you grinned up at him. Shaking his head, he took it as his signal to finally move.

He slid out of your dripping cunt slowly, before he pushed back inside with a snap of his hips, causing you to choke on a breath, gasping afterwards.

His lips parted in a strangled moan, at the way you clenched around him, dragging him closer to the edge with each thrust. He pulled back out, but you clenched down on him on purpose, causing him to rut right back inside you, before he even had a chance to really pull out.

He shook his head at you, laughing quietly, as he smirked down at you.

Two can play this game.

His lips found your nipple, your back arching as he sucked it into his mouth, all the while slowly rocking in and out of you. The pace was brutally soft, teasing you to the brink of tears, as his tongue flicked over the hardened peak.

"Tim..." you breathed out desperately, heels digging into his back to make him move faster. He smirked against your nipple, but complied, as he picked up the pace.

Soon he was pounding into you, the tip of his cock brushing that spongy spot that made you moan his name with each thrust, believing to see stars. You were a panting and moaning mess under him, fully subjected to him.

He groaned and moaned into your ear, as he chased your releases, trying to hold back until you would be coming. His pace was relentless, as he fucked into you, the objects on the table soon tipping over, but neither of you cared.

"I'm close." you announced out of breath, though gasping, as he hit that one spot again. His lips found yours, as his fingers ghosted down your body and to where you were connected, parting your folds to find your clit.

He rubbed circles on it and you cried out, coming hard on his cock. Clenching down on him, you made it even harder for him to move, dragging him over the edge with you, as he moaned your name in bliss.

His warmth filled you up, as he stilled, harshly breathing as he tried to calm his racing heart. Yours seemed like it would never stop racing, lung desperately burning for air.

"Wow." you breathed, still feeling a bit dizzy. He smiled down at you, brushing a sweaty strand of hair from your face.

"Yeah."

You fell silent for a moment, as his eyes searched yours for any sign of regret. But he found none.

"I want you." he admitted, clearing his throat as he shifted his weight on top of you. "I want to go on a date with you."

His words caused you to smile up at him, the happiness spreading through you as you still glowed from your high.

He believed he'd never seen anything this beautiful before.

"I want that too." you admitted, nodding. "I want to go out with you, even if we have to hide for the rest of my training."

His face fell slightly, only then remembering your current situation, before he nodded as well, pecking your lips. "I'm willing to hide with you." he spoke, his hips connecting with yours again as he rocked forward, earning a gasp from you.

He chuckled, lips brushing over your cheek.

"And then, when your training is over and you're officially a p2, we won't have to hide anymore." he continued, kissing down your jaw and to your neck, butterflies erupting in your stomach.

"I will tell everyone that you're mine."

Your body shivered pleasantly at his words, sighing in bliss. "I like that idea."

"Good, 'cause now you'll never get rid of me again." he promised you, looking back up into your eyes.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

Tag List

@newobsessionweekly @laheysfilm

@rookietrek @augustvandyne

[hgfictionwriter]

Long Distance Call

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Jessie and you are doing the long distance thing. What's she to do when you surprise her with a fun photo?

Warning: Smut. Phone sex. Explicit language!

A/N: Based on this request.

“Alright, everyone. Settle in. We have a big game this Friday and we’ve got lots to go through to prepare. Let’s look at some footage.”

Jessie was honed in on the analysis until she felt her phone buzz in her back pocket. Coach was addressing the defenders, so Jessie took the opportunity to check.

Jessie had to stifle a gasp, nearly choking in the process as she shot straight up in her chair so aggressively that it caused the chair to scrape loudly against the floor. The noise immediately drew curious looks from the team.

“Sorry,” she offered quietly as a deep blush began to radiate off her cheeks.

It wasn’t the “Morning, baby 🥰” message that’d caught her so off guard. It was the accompanying picture of your mostly naked body that had her shook.

She’d alluded to wanting photos like this, you know, for some added inspiration while you were apart, but you’d never followed through - until now.

Jessie subconsciously cleared her throat as she settled back into her seat. It took valiant effort to not fidget and squirm as heat was now pooling in a totally different area than her face.

She chewed the inside of her cheek as she tried desperately to refocus on game day tactics, but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t thinking of how she was going to get you back for messing with her. Mostly though, she thought of how she wanted to fuck you ragged until you could barely think and the only words coming from your mouth would be her name.

But she couldn’t. Not a while anyway. She swallowed her irritation and frustration. Long distance sucked.

“What was that all about?”

Janine’s overly intrigued query caught Jessie’s attention as the blonde fell into step with her as they were all leaving the meeting. Of course Janine had to inquire.

“Nothing really. A reminder came through on my phone and I thought I’d missed something, but it’s all good,” Jessie fibbed.

“Uh huh,” Janine responded, clearly not buying it, but benevolently let it go. “So, what are you up to tonight?”

“Dreaming of fucking my girlfriend silly,” Jessie thought.

“Not much. Maybe a bit more prep for the game, but I’m pretty tired, so it’ll be a low key evening,” she said instead. “You?”

“It’s date night,” Janine said with a bright smile. A moment later she offered an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I know it’s hard with Y/N so far away. How many weeks until you see her again?”

“5,” Jessie responded without missing a beat. She could even tell Janine the exact number of days if she’d asked, and there was a countdown on Jessie’s lock screen to prove it.

“It’ll go by quickly,” Janine said with dogged positivity. Jessie nodded and gave her a half smile.

“I know.”

Laughter suddenly erupted from a group of their teammates, drawing Janine’s attention away and leaving Jessie to fall back enough to find some privacy. When she was sure she was alone, she opened your text once more.

She inhaled deeply as she took in the image and a smirk tugged at her lips. She replied.

“Best text ever. Well, surprising - I opened it during analysis, btw! You look so fucking sexy. I miss you so much. I can’t express it. I wish I was coming home to you.”

She locked her screen and was about to leave when her phone buzzed again.

“That would be too much fun 😘. I wish I was waiting at home for you.”

Jessie expelled a slow, shaky breath. It was going to be a long afternoon.

By the time Jessie got home, the heat between her legs had only gotten worse. The image of you was burned in her mind and she kept replaying past times you made love and kept envisioning what she’d do to you if you were around.

She dropped her bag by the front door and immediately opened up the picture you sent.

“Fuck,” she breathed as she took you in.

She walked over to the couch and sat down heavily on it and immediately tucked a hand underneath the waistband of her shorts and into her underwear.

“Jesus,” she muttered when she felt how wet she was just from picturing you. She ran her fingers through her folds and dipped them briefly inside. The wet sounds each motion made would’ve made her blush on some occasions, but not today. She drew her fingers back and began circling her clit as she looked at your naked body.

She was releasing a heavy breath when her phone suddenly vibrated and a notification came up startling her. She drew her hand out of her shorts immediately and her heart raced until her mind caught up, realizing it was you calling.

She took a few deep breaths before she answered.

“Hey babe,” she said, still feeling hot and flustered in a couple of ways.

“Hi baby,” you greeted cheerfully. “How was training?”

“Uh, good,” Jessie said, a bit stilted in her reply as she tried to refocus. “Yeah, it was a long day, but good. How was yours?”

“The day was fine,” you answered easily. “I missed you. In case you couldn’t tell.”

“Jesus Christ,” Jessie breathed as she was brought right back to what she was doing a moment ago. “That was,” she struggled to find the words, “so hot. I was not expecting that at all. But holy shit - you are so sexy.”

“Yeah? Well, I have to make sure you miss me, too,” you joked.

“No challenge there.” Jessie breathed heavy into the phone.

“Well, if I can’t be there in person, the least I can do is give you some inspiration.” You told her in a flirtatious tone. Jessie gave a breathy chuckle.

“Mission accomplished.”

“Mmm, is that so?” You asked, a lilt in your voice. “Tell me more.”

“Um,” Jessie felt her cheeks start to warm. “You’re just super sexy.” She paused momentarily before relenting, lowering her voice unnecessarily to a near-whisper. “And I was definitely wet.”

You didn’t skip a beat. “Mm, baby. Tell me more. Did you think you were wet or did you confirm?”

Jessie blushed further. “Confirmed,” she nearly mumbled.

“God. I wish I was between your legs right now. I’d love to taste you and see for myself just how wet you are.”

“Jesus Christ.” Jessie’s voice was raspy and she fidgeted in place as the need between her legs was reignited and began to pulse once more. She cleared her throat quietly and added, “Pretty fucking wet.”

“Right now?” You asked. Jessie hummed a bit before replying.

“Maybe.”

“Ugh, baby, don’t tease me,” you told her and she responded with a short laugh.

“Excuse me? Who’s teasing who here?”

“You know, for someone who wanted nudes and finally got one, you seem to be complaining,” you joked, knowing she’d offer an immediate rebuttal.

“I’m not! I fucking loved it. And yes, I’m wet right now,” Jessie countered. She fidgeted again and went on in a hushed voice. “In fact, I was…you know, doing stuff, when you called.”

“Jesus,” you said with a sharp inhale. “Now that is the sexiest thing. Oh my god, Jess.” She could hear the satisfied grin in your voice. “Don’t let me stop you,” you went on in a soft voice. “Maybe I can even help you.”

“Yeah?” Jessie asked, shifting her jaw subconsciously and very intrigued now. “How so, baby?”

“Imagine it’s my hand between your legs. Lower the phone and let me hear how wet I make you,” you instructed.

Jessie grit her teeth, eyes rolling into the back of her head already at the events that were unfolding. She gave you want you wanted; lowering the phone and dipping her fingers back through her slick folds. Her arousal was obvious right away.

She held the phone back up, but began to circle her clit.

“Holy fuck, Jessie. That was so incredibly sexy. I’m aching for you - I need you so bad.”

“Fuck, baby,” Jessie breathed, a lazy smile tugging at the corner of her lips. She rubbed her clit with a firmer touch and rocking her hips up in slow gyrations. “I was so wet at training too just thinking about what I’d do to you if you were here.”

“Baby, please, tell me,” you pleaded. You heard her chuckle softly, but you detected how her breathing grew heavier in your ear.

“Only if you’re a good girl,” Jessie smirked. “Touch yourself for me. Two fingers - tracing around your clit and between your lips. Dip them down until you can tell me how wet you are for me.”

“Oh my God.” You nearly panted. Jessie often took control in the bedroom, but you hadn’t explored this facet of it before. Hearing her speak like this was unexpected, but so sexy. You did as you were told and moaned softly into the phone. “Baby, I’m dripping wet,” you told her as you drew your fingers back up and the tips were covered in your juices.

Jessie groaned into the phone and bit her lip.

“Just what I like to hear,” she affirmed as she continued to rub circles around her swollen clit. “God, I miss fucking you.”

You groaned in need and agreement as you continued to run your fingers through your lips and grazing your clit. “Me too, baby. My fingers and toys just aren’t the same.”

Jessie breathed heavy as a satisfied grin crossed her face. “Damn right they’re not.” She moaned faintly as her hips bucked against her hand. “If you were here, I’d have you on your back, legs on my shoulders as I pin you down, and I’d be knuckle deep in you.” She dipped her fingers inside of herself and her eyes fluttered shut. “God, I can feel your cum all over my fingers. And you know I love the way you start to pool around my knuckles and in my palm.”

“Jess,” you panted. “Oh my god. Keep going. I love the way you fill me up. The way you fit perfectly inside of me, stretching me just right.”

“Fuck, baby,” Jessie breathed as she went back to rocking her hips against her fingers on her clit. “You’re perfect for me. I’d be stroking you hard and deep. I’d be pumping my whole body against yours I’d be fucking you so hard. The bed would bang against the wall every time I bottom out inside of you, pushing you deeper into the mattress.”

“Oh god, Jessie, you fuck me so good,” you praised. You could vividly picture the prideful and smug look on her face and it turned you on even more.

People loved talking about how humble Jessie was. But when it came to fucking and pleasing you, there was nothing humble about her. And frankly, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I love when you say my name,” Jessie said, her voice growing strained as her breathing continued to pick up. She grinned once more. “But I love it even more when you scream it.”

You moaned loudly into the phone, letting your head fall back as you rubbed your clit harder and faster.

“So make me,” you challenged her.

Jessie groaned, biting her lip again, her back arching off the couch. “I love you so much,” she breathed with a laugh of appreciation. “Baby, you know I’d be hitting your sweet spot with every stroke. I’d be making sure that every time I fill you to the hilt I’m sending a wave of pleasure through your whole body. My thumb’s on your clit, circling and rubbing it. And after I kiss you deeply, my lips hard on yours, I’ll kiss your neck.

“I won’t mean to suck on your skin too hard, but feeling you buck and writhe beneath me, moaning in my ear as I pump in and out of you makes me fucking feral for you. Like I can’t get close enough or love you hard enough. I mark you, but I don’t feel so bad about it because that’s how much I want you, to the point where I can’t control myself.

“When you moan as I latch down on your neck, I push a third finger inside of you. You wrap around me tightly, but you’re so fucking wet I just slip in. Feeling your walls grip me and pulse around me as I move nearly sends me into a frenzy.”

“Jesus Christ, Jess. I’m so close,” you warn her, your voice high and faint.

“I can feel your body start to tense up. Your legs start to shake and your breath quickens as I continue. I curl my fingers inside of you, relishing each punctuated moan you release each time I make contact. Your arousal is pooling on the sheets now as I’m driving my hips into you. I’m absolutely soaked because of how sexy and beautiful you are beneath me.”

“Holy shit. Jessie.” Your eyes screwed shut and her name was loud and strained as your climax hit. “I’m cumming.”

“Umph,” Jessie moaned as she bit her lip. “Baby girl. So fucking hot,” she said as she bucked her hips against her fingers which desperately rubbed her sensitive clit. The tightening sensation deep in her core built rapidly as she heard you cumming in her ear and she envisioned your body against hers.

A tight groan worked its way up Jessie’s throat as her core began to pulsate. Her hips jerked against her fingers as she brought herself over the edge.

You both whimpered and breathed heavy into the phone as you rode out your joint orgasms. Jessie’s chest heaved up and down and she slumped into the couch, her underwear thoroughly soaked through and too lazy to remove her hand from them. She could barely hold up the phone and had yet to open her eyes. Eventually, you spoke.

“Babe. That was insane. And totally incredible,” you relayed in pure appreciation and admiration. “You’re amazing.”

Jessie chuckled languidly, slowly opening her eyes.

“Amazing what one can do with a great muse.”

You laughed. “Well, I have to say, long distance may not be quite so unbearable if we have repeats like this.”

“I’ll take care of you, baby,” Jessie assured you. “You send me fun photos, and I promise I’ll take good care of you. Deal?”

“Deal.” You agreed with a breathy laugh.

“For real though,” Jessie started, “I really miss you. I love you, you know that, right?”

Again, you chuckled. Of course you knew. And you knew how lucky you were too.

“I know, baby. I love you, too. And I miss you more than you know.”

[theuntoldstorythatneedsawriter]

Too sweaty🌡🫂

Ona Batlle x reader

warning : fluffy 💭💗

(my first language isn't english nor spanish, sorry for any grammar or spelling mistakes)

Summary :

You refuse to hug your girlfriend after a match because she's too sweaty. With the help of her team, she will do everything and anything to get that hug.

The final whistle blew, the sound of roaring cheers erupted across the stadium as FC Barcelona Femení secured yet another victory. The players on the field embraced, exchanging high-fives and grins as the crowd celebrated their hard-earned win. You stood in the stands, clapping and cheering, Ona had been relentless on the pitch today, showing why she was one of the best defenders in the world.

Ona spotted you almost instantly. Her eyes lit up, and with that characteristic grin of hers, she jogged over, arms wide open for the post-game hug she always demanded. You smiled, knowing exactly what was coming next, but as she got closer, you could see just how sweaty she was. Her hair clung to her forehead, her jersey was soaked through, and her skin glistened with sweat. You loved her to pieces, but there was no denying that Ona in full post-match mode was a sweaty mess.

- ¡Cariño! (Love !)

Ona called out, still grinning as she reached the edge of the stands, arms stretched wide.

- Come here!

You took a step back, hands raised in defence, laughing nervously.

- Ona, you’re—

You gestured up and down at her completely drenched form.

- —you’re a little too sweaty for that.

Ona stopped, her grin turning into a dramatic pout as she dropped her arms.

- ¿En serio? After this great match ? You’re really not going to hug me ? (Oh really?)

You shook your head, laughing.

- I love you, but I draw the line at drenched hugs. You look like you just went swimming in your kit!

Ona groaned, shaking her head in exaggerated frustration, though her eyes were still sparkling with amusement.

- It’s just a little sweat, cariño. You’ve seen me worse. (love)

- Yeah, but I didn’t have to hug you then either.

You shot back, grinning. She rolled her eyes but didn’t let up.

- Fine. No hug for now

You smirked, leaning down a little closer.

- Once you’re clean, you can have all the hugs you want.

Ona stared at you for a moment, pretending to be annoyed, but then she leaned in suddenly and gave you a quick, mischievous kiss on the cheek, pressing her sweat-covered face against yours just enough to make you recoil slightly.

- Ew, Ona!

You exclaimed, wiping at your cheek with an exaggerated grimace, but your laughter betrayed you.

- That’s payback

Ona said with a wink before jogging back to her teammates, leaving you shaking your head and laughing as you watched her retreat.

The players had started celebrating in full force, and you could see Ona being pulled into hugs. Their joy was infectious. You sighed as you watched the love of your life soaking in the victory with her team. It didn’t take long for the other girls to notice the slight pout on your girlfriends face. Alexia, having seen the scene, sidled up to Ona, raising an eyebrow as she nudged her friend.

- Entonces, ¿no te da ningún abrazo tu novia después del partido? (So, no post-game hug from your girlfriend?)

Alexia teased, her voice loud enough for you to hear. Ona groaned, but a smile crept onto her face.

- No, al parecer sudaba demasiado. (Nope. Too sweaty, apparently.)

Alexia grinned, clearly finding it hilarious.

- No puedo culparla, honestamente. (Can’t blame her, honestly)

- Pero no me rendiré. (But I’m not giving up)

Ona said determinedly, casting a glance back at you, where you stood watching them from the sidelines, waving innocently. Alexia raised her eyebrows, a mischievous glint in her eye as she quickly whispered something to the other players. You couldn’t hear what she said, but a few of them turned to look at you with knowing grins.

Before you had a chance to react, the entire team started jogging in your direction, their expressions filled with a playful determination. Your eyes widened, and you instinctively took a step back.

- Oh no, no, no,

You muttered, shaking your head as they closed in. Ona was at the front of the pack, her grin widening as she saw your reaction.

- You shouldn’t have refused the hug, cariño.

She teased, her teammates fanning out behind her like a wall of sweaty determination.

- You’re all sweaty!

You protested, starting to back up further as the group approached.

- This isn’t fair !

Alexia, laughing, called out,

- We just want to help Ona get her hug !

Before you knew it, you were surrounded by the entire Barça squad, and any chance of escape vanished. In a whirlwind of laughter and playful jostling, they scooped you up, passing you straight into Ona’s waiting arms. Ona, grinning victoriously, pulled you into a tight hug, ignoring your protests as she pressed her sweaty body against yours. You squirmed, but it was no use. The team had made sure you weren’t going anywhere.

- Gotcha

Ona whispered, her face close to yours, her eyes full of affection despite the playful scene. You sighed in defeat, trying to suppress your laughter as you rested your head against her shoulder.

- Okay, okay. You win. But you’re still really sweaty.

- I’ll take it

She replied with a laugh, kissing your cheek again. The team cheered and clapped, clearly amused by the whole spectacle. You couldn’t help but laugh too, the warmth of the moment washing over you despite being covered in your girlfriend’s post-game sweat.

As the players finally dispersed and Ona loosened her grip on you, you looked up at her with a smirk.

- Next time, maybe I’ll bring a towel.

Ona grinned, her eyes twinkling.

- Or you could just hug me straight after every game, no matter what.

You pretended to think about it.

- Hmm... no promises.

She laughed, wrapping an arm around your waist as the two of you walked off together.

- You’ll come around eventually.

And as you walked side by side, with the stadium lights dimming and the echoes of the crowd still ringing in your ears, you knew that sweaty hugs or not, you wouldn’t trade these moments with her for anything in the world.

[latenightreadingpdf]

Beneath the Moonlight - Remus Lupin

₊‧⁺˖⋆ Masterlist ⋆˖⁺‧₊

Summary: In the days leading up to a full moon, Remus Lupin receives an anonymous gift basket filled with potions, chocolates, and a carefully-brewed Wolfsbane Potion.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Y/N considered herself a rather observant student, especially when it came to the Marauders. It was hard not to notice them, really. They were practically a four-person parade through the halls of Hogwarts—pranks, laughter, and charm trailing behind them like a comet's tail. James Potter with his messy hair and endless attempts to impress Lily Evans, Sirius Black with his dazzling grin and effortless cool, Peter Pettigrew following close, always eager to please. But one Marauder stood out to her more than the rest. Remus Lupin.

There was something about him that had Y/N hooked from the beginning. Perhaps it was his quiet brilliance or the way he seemed to carry a world of mysteries in those warm, honey-colored eyes. Or maybe, it was the way new scars seemed to appear on his face and hands every so often, faint but unmistakable. They fascinated her, those scars, and as her gaze lingered on him in class or at meals, she found herself trying to figure him out.

And, admittedly, somewhere along the way, Y/N developed a bit of a crush on him. But who wouldn’t? He was brilliant, always top of the class without trying too hard, and—and yes, he was gorgeous. Handsome in that annoyingly effortless way. Soft, tousled hair that practically begged to be touched, sharp cheekbones, and—Merlin, those knit jumpers that always made him look so adorable. How was that fair? It was like he’d been sculpted by some benevolent god of tall, bookish, sweater-loving dream boys.

But Y/N’s interest in him was more than just attraction. There was something… otherworldly about him. She’d started to notice patterns—how he would seem worn and pale every few weeks, how he would disappear entirely from school grounds for a day or two, only to return looking exhausted and, if possible, even more scarred than before.

A month ago, after endless speculation and careful observation, Y/N had arrived at a conclusion: Remus Lupin was probably a werewolf. She wasn’t completely certain; it was more of an educated guess. But what could she do with this theory? It wasn’t like she could walk up to him and blurt out, “Hey, Remus! You don’t know me, but I’ve been watching you for months, and I just wanted to ask, are you, by any chance, a werewolf?”

The thought alone made her cringe. Y/N sighed, tapping her quill against her parchment. Remus Lupin might be full of mysteries and maybe—just maybe—she’d get the courage to actually talk to him someday.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

The full moon was only a few days away, and Y/N could already see the toll it was taking on Remus. He was limping slightly, a stiffness in his stride that made her heart ache, and the dark circles under his eyes were more prominent than ever. He looked exhausted, like he hadn’t been sleeping in days, and though she knew he had his friends—the Marauders, always fiercely loyal—she couldn’t help but feel he needed more comfort than they could provide. She wanted to do something for him, something small but meaningful.

The idea hit her while she was rummaging through her bag in the library: an anonymous get-well-soon basket. She could leave it outside his dorm, a collection of little comforts to ease the days leading up to his transformation. She’d make sure it was subtle, not too personal, just enough to lift his spirits without drawing attention.

Excitement and nerves mixed in her stomach as she mentally listed what she’d need. A couple potions to help with sleep, pain, and anxiety, some of Honeydukes' finest chocolate, a soft blanket to keep him warm, and a few baked goods from the kitchen elves. She might even add a small note with a simple message—“Hope these bring you a bit of comfort during the full moon. Take care of yourself.”

Over the next couple of days, Y/N carefully gathered everything. She bought him a midnight-blue wool blanket that felt like a hug in fabric form and a variety of different chocolates. She used her advanced potion skills to make Murtlap Essence, a Calming Draught, and a Healing Potion.

But the most important addition was a small bottle of Wolfsbane Potion. She’d somehow managed to get her hands on the recipe, even though it wasn’t officially taught at Hogwarts—and she’d acquired a secret stash of the rare ingredients needed to brew it, though she'd never admit where from. It had taken several nights of brewing in the abandoned classroom she’d found, but she’d done it.

The full moon was only two days away when she finished assembling the basket, carefully placing the note on top before leaving it right outside the boys' dormitory. With a final glance over her handiwork, she quickly walked back to her dorm, satisfied with her work.

As she returned to her room, a little thrill of satisfaction bubbled within her. Maybe, just maybe, her small gesture would help Remus feel a little less alone, a little less burdened by the full moon’s approach. And that thought alone was enough to fill her with quiet joy.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Just a few floors below, the Marauders were still lounging in the Gryffindor common room, sprawled across chairs and couches as the fire crackled low. They’d spent hours discussing pranks, arguing about the latest Quidditch match, and bickering about everything from Potions homework to the best way to dodge Filch. When the last embers started to die, they finally decided it was time to call it a night.

As they made their way up the stairs, it was James who first spotted the basket. He froze mid-step, eyebrows raised as he pointed it out. "Er, lads... anyone know what this is?"

The other boys crowded around, peering down at the unexpected sight.

“No clue,” Peter murmured, squinting at the note resting on top.

Sirius, with his usual curiosity, leaned down and plucked up the note, inspecting it with a grin before his eyes gleamed mischievously. “Ooooooh, Remus, it’s for you!” he cooed, reading the note aloud for the group: ‘Hope these bring you a bit of comfort during the full moon. Take care of yourself.’

The boys’ faces all fell at once. Whoever had left this knew. Someone had figured it out. Their carefully crafted excuses, the timing of their sneaking around, all the little tricks they’d come up with—they thought it was foolproof. But apparently, someone had been watching more closely than they’d realized.

Without another word, they grabbed the basket, exchanging uneasy glances as they rushed into the dormitory, shutting the door firmly behind them. They gathered around Remus’s bed, where James set the basket down, and just stared at it.

“Well? Open it already!” James urged, his voice a mix of curiosity, excitement, and a tinge of concern.

Remus took a steadying breath. His friends were watching him closely as he slowly lifted the wrapping, half-expecting some kind of prank to burst out at him. But instead, he found an assortment of thoughtful items neatly arranged within the basket. A stack of Honeydukes chocolates, carefully tied together with string. A blanket, dark blue and soft, lay folded at the side. Several small bottles—potions, each labeled with precision, sat in the center, cushioned by tissue paper.

They all scanned the contents in awe and curiosity, but Sirius was the first to notice something unusual. He gasped, eyes widening as he pointed to one particular bottle.

“Holy shit, is that—”

“Wolfsbane,” Remus finished quietly, staring at the vial with a mixture of shock and disbelief.

They all fell silent, taking in the implications of that single bottle. Wolfsbane Potion was incredibly complex, nearly impossible for a student to brew, and yet here it was—crafted, sealed, and ready for him. Someone had not only figured out his secret but had gone to lengths far beyond casual concern. The potion’s presence in the basket hinted at more than just kindness; it was a deeply personal gesture, an unspoken understanding that spoke volumes.

Remus swallowed hard, his fingers brushing the cool glass of the bottle. "Did the card say who it was from?" he asked, looking over at Sirius, who shrugged and handed him the note again.

Remus read the short message over and over, searching for any hidden clues, some hint that might give away the sender. But the note was short, simple, and entirely anonymous. He turned it over, checked for invisible ink, even held it up to the light, but there was nothing.

“Not a single hint?” James murmured, peering over his shoulder, a frown deepening across his face. “Nothing?”

The group exchanged baffled glances. They examined the basket once more, handling each item carefully to make sure nothing seemed dangerous. The potions were labeled clearly and accurately, the chocolate smelled rich and sweet, and the blanket was incredibly soft—perfect for a night when he’d be feeling cold and drained. Every item seemed genuine, carefully chosen, with not a hint of a prank or hex.

As they finished examining the basket, they slowly started getting ready for bed. Remus sat quietly on his bed, his mind racing as he took in the kindness of it all. He tucked the potions into his bedside drawer, hiding the chocolate where he knew Sirius wouldn’t be able to steal it, and spread the blanket over his bed. It was soft, warmer than his own, and the weight of it settled over him like a quiet comfort he hadn’t realized he needed.

Sliding under the blanket, Remus felt a warmth blooming in his chest. Someone out there knew his secret, but instead of using it against him, they’d tried to make things a little easier. And he knew, without question, that he had to figure out who it was.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

The full moon had passed in a calm that Remus had never experienced before. He woke that morning still feeling sore, but the aches were manageable. Normally, the transformations left him scarred and hollow, as if all the energy and warmth had been drained from him, leaving only exhaustion in its wake. But this time, thanks to the Wolfsbane Potion and the potions from the basket, he felt… human. Less broken.

After seeing the other Marauders off to class, Remus leaned back into his bed, feeling the softness of the new blanket wrap around him like a gentle hug. He’d spent the morning drinking one of the calming potions, using the healing salve for his aches, and nibbling on a bit of chocolate to ease his nerves. And though he was grateful, he couldn’t shake the strange blend of curiosity and unease that swirled in his mind. Who knew? Who cared this much? The secrecy felt like a burden, yet he couldn’t help but feel a small glow of warmth every time he glanced at the basket.

Meanwhile, James, Sirius, and Peter were trying to answer that very question in their own way. During Potions, they’d had an idea. Whoever had brewed Wolfsbane Potion had to be incredibly skilled, so finding out who had the best marks in Potions could narrow things down. The second Slughorn dismissed them, they pounced.

Sirius leaned casually on Slughorn’s desk, grinning with exaggerated innocence. “Professor,” he began, “say I wanted to improve my Potions skills. Just hypothetically.”

Slughorn’s eyebrows lifted, clearly intrigued by Sirius’s unusual interest. “Oh? Well, it’s about time, Mr. Black. I’d say your marks could certainly use a bit of boosting.”

“Oh, I know, I know!” Sirius waved his hands, laughing a bit. “That’s exactly why I was thinking maybe a bit of tutoring could help. So… who would you say is the top student in your class?”

James sidled up next to him, nodding earnestly. “Yeah, Professor. Who’s the best at brewing?”

Slughorn looked delighted, his chest puffing with pride at the idea of his Gryffindor students taking a sudden interest in his class. He lowered his voice as though he were sharing a prized secret. “Ah, if you’re looking for someone with real talent, you’d want to speak with Y/N Y/L/N. A truly gifted student! Absolutely meticulous with her brewing, and a Gryffindor as well! You boys ought to know her.”

Sirius and James exchanged baffled glances. “Y/N Y/L/N?” James muttered, frowning in thought.

Peter piped up, looking a little surprised. “Oh, I remember her. We did a project together in second year. She’s very sweet. I suppose she’s easy to miss, always keeping to herself.”

“Right…” Sirius trailed off, scratching his chin. “Doesn’t sound like the type to be sneaking around in the dead of night to drop off mysterious gift baskets, does she?”

“People can surprise you,” Peter shrugged. “I bet she’s got her reasons.”

After classes were over, the three Marauders nearly sprinted back to the dormitory. They’d waited all day to tell Remus their findings, and as soon as they saw him, they launched right into it.

“So,” Sirius said, flopping dramatically onto Remus’s bed, “we might know who left the basket.”

Remus looked up, eyebrows raised, though he tried to appear casual. “Really?”

James nodded, practically bouncing with excitement. “Y/N Y/L/N. Slughorn says she’s his top student in Potions. And she’s a Gryffindor, so she’d know where to find us.”

The name caught Remus off guard. “Y/N Y/L/N?” He knew exactly who she was—quiet, always hanging at the edges of things, never drawing attention to herself. He remembered her from their earlier years, especially a few years back when she and Peter had done that project together. She’d been kind and incredibly smart, but she always seemed to fade into the background.

Sirius shot him a curious look. “Wait—do you actually know her?”

Remus hesitated, carefully picking his words. “I mean… I remember her. We’ve been in classes together since first year.”

But what he didn’t say was that he’d once felt drawn to her quiet kindness. She wasn’t like other students; there was a thoughtfulness to her, a gentle intelligence that had always intrigued him. He remembered her now, the shy girl who had somehow made him feel seen, and the idea that she might have left the basket stirred something inside him—a mix of hope and nerves.

Sirius smirked, leaning in conspiratorially. “Oh, you remember her, do you?”

Remus rolled his eyes, trying to hide his blush. “Look, it’s probably not her. There’s no way she’d still remember… I mean, we barely ever talked.”

James raised his eyebrows. “Barely ever talked? That doesn’t mean she wouldn’t care. Besides,” he added with a grin, “you clearly want it to be her.”

Remus glanced away, not trusting himself to deny it. Because if it really was Y/N… she’d have gone to extraordinary lengths just to help him. It would mean she knew his secret and, rather than fearing him, had quietly found a way to ease his burden. And perhaps the most surprising part? He found himself hoping it was her.

Finally, he cleared his throat. “Alright. I’ll talk to her. See if there’s anything to this theory of yours.”

The next morning, with a hint of apprehension and excitement, Remus set out to find her. He decided to look in the library first, where he thought she might be studying between classes. But as he crossed the common room, he spotted her in the far corner, curled up in a chair with a thick book on her lap.

He took a steadying breath and made his way over to her. She looked up, clearly surprised to see him, her eyes widening as he gave a small, nervous smile.

“Hi, Y/N,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “Do you mind if I join you?”

She blinked, a little flustered, but nodded, gesturing to the seat across from her. “Um, of course, Remus.”

They sat in a slightly awkward silence for a moment, and Remus could feel his heart beating hard in his chest. He cleared his throat, feeling the weight of her attention on him.

“So… I, uh, wanted to thank you,” he started, not sure how to bring it up. “For… everything.”

She stiffened slightly, her cheeks flushing, but kept her gaze steady. “I’m not sure what you mean,” she replied quietly.

He watched her, seeing the faintest hint of a smile playing at her lips, and knew then, without a doubt, that she was the one. “The gift basket. The potions. The blanket.” He lowered his voice. “The Wolfsbane. It helped me… more than I can say.”

Her face softened, and she nodded, understanding in her eyes. “I’m… really glad to hear that. I just wanted you to have what you needed. It’s not easy going through all that on your own.”

Remus felt his heart swell. Here she was, fully aware of the truth and yet sitting here, calm and kind, accepting him exactly as he was.

He met her gaze, feeling a sense of calm he hadn’t felt in ages. “Thank you, Y/N. I don’t know what I did to deserve that kind of kindness from you, but… it means a lot.”

They sat there in a comfortable silence, the unspoken words passing between them, understanding filling the space. He knew he’d found a friend in her—someone who saw through the mask he wore and had chosen to help, not out of pity, but because she understood what it meant to care quietly, deeply, and without expectation.

And perhaps, he thought with a hint of warmth, this was only the beginning of something much deeper.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

A/N ~ this is kinda rushed sorry, school is killing me :P

[toxycodone]

WHAT ARE YOUR DAISUKE HCS ??? GENERAL AND DATING ??? 🥺🥺🙏🙏

ship. daisuke jaurez (mouthwashing) x reader

content. general + sfw + fluff

an. ummm like and reblog and leave comments or I’ll shave Daisuke bald. also no weird babying Daisuke 💪🏽

General

This is pretty much confirmed he’s Asian + Latino but he’s definitely Japanese/Mexican to me. He’s so SoCal coded it’s absolutely ridiculous. I’m thinking like…he lived close to the border or is from San Francisco or LA and has a lot of family in SoCal.

As far as MBTI goes I’m saying he’s an ESFP/ENFP and as far as Zodiac goes I’m saying Gemini or Cancer.

In his formative years he had a “dank memes” phase. Like, middle/high school Daisuke was a total dork. He was a kid lucky enough to be diagnosed w adhd when he was younger so he was on meds and did EXCEPTIONAL in school. Lived off the praise of teachers. He was especially good at science and math. (Which is why his parents encouraged him to get a mechanic internship).

^adding to this he has adhd + depression (the depression is more of a byproduct of the ADHD tho) and he takes meds!! he probably takes stimmies so he’s personally really concerned about his heart health.

HE HAD AN UGLY DUCKLY PHASE. Glasses + braces king. And he was awkward asf. But he slowly grew into himself and his style. He still has insecurities though and doesn’t think he’s that attractive bc of it.

I don’t think he made it past community college or gen Ed courses though. (He has HELLA test anxiety and despite being smart he sucks hard at ACT/SAT). In college he felt really isolated and it was hard for him to get out there so. He kinda shut down.

To me he’s around 23-25 years old. Old enough to where the pressure to “do something with his life” and figure shit out is hitting hard. But also like, still at an age where you’re first figuring shit out. He’s really insecure about this. Not because he’s stupid or anything he just has NO idea what to do w his life and can’t figure it out.

He had/has a part-time gig at a local art store he absolutely adores. He’s an artist and participated in a lot of local competitions/collabs/etc. he’s made a lot of connections here and wants to be a full time artist BUT this is where his parents draw the line. He’s fought w his parents a few times about this but it ultimately boiled down to “we’re just concerned it won’t pay/etc.”

He begrudgingly accepts this bc he knows it’s bc his parents care so much about him and want him to be successful bc they think he’s a smart guy.

Loves, loves, loves traditions and holidays. He dresses up and decorates for them all. Gets way too excited about seasonal drinks and food specials too LOL.

This is kinda random but. Vaquero Daisuke. Idk what to do with this HC but I think he loves Western style and tried to do horse riding as a kid but his mom enrolled him in DRESSAGE as a kid and he was like THIS IS SO CRINGE.

still enjoys the rodeo though. If he could get back on a horse again he’d do barrel racing.

Grew up having to take his shoes off before going in the House so on the Tulpar he always leaves his shoes neatly by his door to feel some sort of normalcy 💔 (at home he usually kicks them off into a corner and it always annoys his mom)

He has a good relationship with his parents. They really, really try to understand their son and are really patient with him but they don’t want him to end up complacent (he probably has a cousin or two who are too spoiled and his parents HATE that.)

Specially close to his mom though. She spoils him bc that is her BABY and he’s such a sweetheart despite it all it’s hard for her not to (his dad is kinda similar too but is like. Trying to hold back.)

Thrifting god. (Canon from the devs btw.) It doesn’t matter that he has the money for new clothes, he has a passion for scoring unique finds. He’s also a frequent enjoyer of vintage markets and pop up shops. I also personally think he loves farmers markets.

Probably a furry (doesn’t suit up though) and definitely enjoys raves (ask him about his Kandi collection)

Also buys concert tickets for local venues in bulk (like he catches them on sale and like. For a month he’s going to a new venue every weekend for a show). He’s so proud of being into niche musicians.

an avid member of fashiontok. I really think he loves this and reads theories and shit. He has a pretty good following on his fashion/life account. But he really cares the most about his meme account (brainrot enjoyer)

He gets tattoos/piercings instead of therapy (has a belly button ring he adores btw and very much cares about his ear setup. He is still planning it meticulously)

There is 100% a cringy tattoo somewhere dumb he got either drunk or on a bet. Ima headcanoning he has a tattoo of a bee on his knee (genuinely thinks this is a fire tat btw)

Y2K BADDIE. His style inspo is so “male lead and or comic relief in a 2000s romcom”. He’s so nostalgic for the 90s too (he gives me gen Z who clings so hard to being a 90s kid but was like. Born in 1999/1998 LOL)

Brown eyeliner enjoyer. He looks gorgeous.

Has a pinup poster of some girl in his room but it’s mainly just for the aesthetic (again. trying to be like dudes from the 90s/00s movies/TV shows).

Romantic

Okay. This may be against the grain idk but I don’t think he falls first. He just really really wants to be your friend and then it hits him that he has a crush and is like. Oh.

I think he’s a total dork. He’s not 100% inexperienced or whatever and he’s an attractive guy!! But like. His rizz is 0. He’s not the type to like smirk and be sexy he’s just a dork and tells jokes and is a total sweetheart.

Crushing Daisuke is like. Insane. He actually is kinda okay at hiding it but he SO easily gets embarrassed while trying to showcase how cool and confident he is. Like. He won’t try insanely hard before he’s breaking down in laughter BUT. YEAH.

He finds himself trying to learn guitar to impress you or get a new piercing or tattoo bc maybe you’ll think it’s cool then he’s like “oh I’m cooked.” (Verbatim)

Calls you dude/bro/etc regardless of your gender or relationship status. You will be married and he’s like “hey dude”. 💀

He also likes calling you bae/babe (EWWWW *twirls my hair*) and POOKIE LMFAOOOO. calls you baefy too esp if it annoys you.

It’s his earnest attitude that is the hottest thing about him though. His attraction to you is so genuine. When he says he loves you, he means it. ITS SO…YEAH. There’s no doubt about it and the LOOK IN HIS EYES…MY GOOOOOD HES IN LOOOOVE. You are the best thing to him.

It’s really important to him you have a close relationship with his parents. Like, don’t worry it’s not difficult. They may be a little ehhhh at first (I don’t think Daisuke’s judgement is 100% great w romantic partners) but once they see you two interacting it CLICKS. You become a part of the family. You’re always invited to bday parties and dinners and cookouts and everything (his mom is so cool and you guys mix drinks together and his dad has a green egg or blacktop he’s so proud of and teaches you how to use it)

Sends you tiktoks as a means of affection. Like. Your notifs are clogged and it’s because he just has so much to show you (THERES SO MANY ROMANCE ONES MAN then it’ll be like the most brainrot shit you’ve ever seen)

PHYSICAL AFFECTION IS HIS LOVE LANGUAGE OH MY GOD.

Literallt he’s to kiss you every time he sees you or he’s gonna go crazy. He’ll pepper your face in kisses. He can’t resist you’re just SOOOO cute he loves you.

He holds you like a teddy bear when you guys cuddle. If you have your head on his chest you can hear his heart just SLAMMING against his chest and he tries so hard to play it cool but he’s just too full of love.

But he also loves resting on your chest or thighs. Bro falls asleep on you a LOT.

He plays with your hands and fingers. I like to think he does this when you speak to him and then he starts wondering what your index finger would look like with a pretty engagement ring and fantasizes about proposing and a wedding and then you say something and he snaps back into reality.

Passes the orange test or whatever the fuck that is his parents always cut fruit for him so he does the same to you. Will just cut up and apple and be like “hey do you want some?”

I think what he appreciates the most in return from you is verbal praise/reaffirmation. He trusts you so much to be honest with him and values your opinions a lot SO. When you tell him you like him and that he’s handsome and stuff he can let out a sigh of relief bc he actually believes you. You help build up his self confidence. ❤️

@mochiiniko (tagging bc I answered ur ask!)

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

The Dark Lord (Part One)

Summary: The reader gets caught stealing from the infamous Dark Lord Winchester. Instead of killing her though, he offers her a job for some reason...

Pairing: Dark Lord!Dean x employee!reader

Word Count: 2,500ish

Warnings: language, briefly mentioned torture/killing

A/N: Think of this as a slightly magical AU set in the present day. I might pick this up again if there seems to be interest in more!...

________

“I don’t care what the hell you do to me, I’m not-” You cut yourself off when a blonde woman in her thirties and sky high heels held out a cup of hot coffee. “Is that…espresso?”

“It’s a roasted blend from Guatemala, boss is big on it lately. He’s so boring and never let’s me give him anything but straight black but I like to serve all our guests something nice.” She set the cup in your hand, an artisanal drawing of a W set in the center. “It has notes of hazelnut and caramel.”

“Thank you?” you said, her eyes lighting up. “Is this…poisoned?” 

Her face fell so fast you felt awful for the way tears prickled her eyes. “Everyone always asks that. It’s just nice coffee.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, taking a sip and smiling. “It’s lovely.”

“Thanks,” she mumbled, turning to leave the dark room you were sat in.

“It really is good coffee.” She perked up a little, nodding once. “It’s just…I couldn’t help but ask.”

You held up your chained hands, the woman giving a sad smile. “Dark Lord Winchester is really the sweetest man I’ve ever met. I have no idea why everyone that he has come in his office thinks he’s going to kill them.”

“He kills people all the time…over nothing…” you said. She laughed and your stomach dropped.

“Oh no, Lord Winchester doesn’t do that! I’ve never seen him kill a soul that didn’t deserve it. Well, maybe a few but I seriously doubt he’ll kill you! He doesn’t tend to kill women as often, just a little torture. I’m sure you’ll be fine!” You withered into your seat when she left.

At least you had good coffee before your demise.

You jumped when the door crashed open, hot coffee spilling over yourself. It dripped down your shirt and soaked into your jeans, your skin stinging when a blur passed your periphery. You swallowed thickly as a man in a black bomber jacket, dark gray t shirt and black jeans walked in front of you.  He crossed his muscular arms as he leaned back against the desk, peering down at you.

He looked like he wanted to kill you. Or fuck you. Or both.

“Hi, Dark Lord Winchester,” you squeaked out. He bent at his hips, leaning down, watching you slump down even further. “Oh fuck, just kill me now.”

“Not yet,” he hummed, straightening with a hard set jaw. He looked down his nose at you, making you feel like an ant under his mighty six foot one muscular frame. “My security caught you stealing from one of my warehouses. I’m told it was a prescription drug.”

“Yes, Lord Winchester,” you said quietly. You looked at your wet clothes, waiting for him to drag you down to his dungeon and rip you apart.

Instead a cell phone was tossed in your lap. You scrunched up your face and gazed up at him, Lord Winchester still staring you down. 

“Uh, is this my last call or something?” you asked. He breathed deeply, looking over your head. 

“Two options. Option one. I will kill you for stealing from me.”

“I’d like to hear option two,” you said quickly, Lord Winchester glaring at you.

“Option two. You work for me. I need an assistant and perhaps I’ll find you valuable enough to keep you alive long term.”

“Option two,” you said, nodding your head. He stood up straight and hummed. 

“I thought so. You’re dismissed,” he said. You glanced down at your cuffs, Lord Winchester ignoring you. He walked around behind his desk and sat, glancing at his computer. “Do not make me ask again.”

You scurried out of the chair, grasping the empty mug in one hand, cellphone in the other. 

“Y/L/N.” You froze, back to him. Fuck, he’d changed his mind. He was just toying with you. He was going to- “Get up to speed this afternoon. I expect you here to start eight am sharp.”

“Yes, Lord Winchester.” Quickly you left, pulling the door shut behind you. You let out a sigh, your overly friendly coffee bearing companion rushing around the corner with a smile. “I told you he wouldn’t kill you! Boss made me promise not to tell. I’m Donna by the way. Deputy Head of Security. I volunteered to be your new hire buddy!”

You blinked slowly at the blonde, tilting your head, her eyes drifting downward in alarm. “Oh no, you’ve burned yourself! Let’s get you out of those cuffs, to the infirmary and into a fresh change of clothes. Lord Winchester wants to go through all of your HR paperwork today and a brief tour before sending you home.”

“I uh,” you put a hand against your head, shaking it out. “Why did he give me a job and not kill me?”

“He must like you. Normally he kills people or tortures them or makes them pay him back with hefty interest. Oh!” She pulled out a thin envelope from her back pocket, handing it to you. “This is your offer letter. It’s not really an offer, more of you have to accept or you die sort of thing but he wanted to make sure you got this.”

You felt like you were in a strange dream as you tore it open, slowly walking by Donna’s side down a hallway. “So Michael is our staff doctor. He’ll check your arms-”

You nearly fell when you’d read the salary on the offer letter. Donna caught your waist, alarm written all over her face. “Oh my god. I’m calling for-”

You shoved the paper in her face, taping the bolded line. “Is this a joke? He’s paying me this much?”

Donna laughed, urging you to walk forward again. 

“Six figures? Six figures?!” you screeched, Donna shaking her head. “What-”

“Working for Lord Winchester is lucrative but…there’s an expectation of discretion. I mean, he is the Dark Lord of the land. It’s not the sort of job you want to slack off at.” 

“Wonderful.”

It was late, well into the evening, when you’d finished with your tour. You were in the lobby of Lord Winchester’s fortress, rubbing your eyes. Michael had given you a pair of scrubs to change into while your stained clothes were sent to the launder. Thankfully he’d deemed your skin only irritated from the hot coffee, not burned. Most of the day had been in HR, Donna sitting in to help guide you through your options.

Options like free healthcare. A pension. On-site housing. As his assistant, or “Personal Executive to The Dark Lord” as your title in the payroll system stated, you were expected to live in the fortress and move in this weekend. All covered and utilities paid for by the company. 

A chef that cooked all your meals, if you were so inclined. Shuttle services to and from school in town with a tutor available after school to help with homework. A grand library for kids to study in and for the adults to further their own educational studies if they chose. There was even an inter-company softball league that got quite competitive. 

Dark Lord Winchester on paper was the best fucking boss in the world.

A throat cleared behind you, making you jump and drop the stack of papers in your hands. You spun around, Dark Lord Winchester standing there.

“Sorry, sir,” you said, kneeling down, attempting to pick up the papers as quickly as possible. To your surprise, he dropped to one knee, leaning his body and grabbing a folder that had your company credit card inside. He held it out to you, deep green eyes watching you as you hesitated to take it.

“If you’re going to work for me, you can’t be scared shitless all the time.” You snatched the folder, his eyes raising briefly before he stood tall. He held out a hand, your own eyes wide. “This is where you put your hand in mine and I help you stand up.”

You swallowed, doing as told, his strong arm effortlessly pulling you up.

“Look at that. You touched me and didn’t turn to dust,” he chuckled. You only stared, Lord Winchester looking over your head. “Let me make something clear to you. I treat my employees extremely well. In return, I expect their best work and their loyalty. If you show up to work and do a good job, there is no reason to fear me.”

“How do I know I’m doing a good job?” you whispered. He looked down to you, pursing his lips.

“You’re the damn Executive Assistant to The Dark Lord. You ask a question, you do it with confidence. Ask correctly and I’ll answer.”

“How will I know I’m doing my job well?” you said, holding his gaze this time. 

“Any woman that would risk stealing from the Dark Lord, knowing very well what I do to thieves, to get medicine for their kid brother? That is the kind of woman that I know will do spectacular in this job.” 

You parted your lips, Dark Lord Winchester glancing at them before looking away. “How do you-”

“I know lots of things.” He checked the dark rolex on his wrist, frowning. “It’s late. I’ll drive you home myself. Wait on the front steps.”

You watched him go down a different hallway, your head going a million miles an hour.

What the fuck was happening?

You stepped outside and five minutes later, an older black Impala, very nicely taken care of, pulled up, Dark Lord Winchester behind the wheel. You slid in the passenger seat, a wonderful aroma in the air. He drove you home in silence save for the soft rock music playing through the speakers.

Your face burned when he drove that beautiful car through your less than glamorous neighborhood and as soon as he pulled to a stop in front of your very small rental, you were getting out. 

“Y/L/N,” he chided. You stopped halfway, Lord Winchester reaching into the backseat and pulling over the back a large white bag. “For you and your brother. Dinner and his medication for a few months. Michael will be able to refill it when it’s up and can schedule a physical with him to check if his treatment needs to alter. Please apologize to your brother from me. He’s likely frightened being alone judging by the way every light is on inside.”

You shook your head, your lip tugging up. He narrowed his eyes as your smirk grew. “What is that look for?”

“Dark Lord Winchester my ass. You’re a good person, aren’t you?” He scoffed. “Nah, I’m starting to see this for what it is. Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone you’re nice deep down.”

“I’m not nice,” he growled. You took the bag from his hand, softening your smile. “Do not think I’m kind.”

“Oh, of course not,” you said, holding up the bag. You got out, closing the door behind you. But you bent down, leaning into the open window. “Thank you. He…his asthma’s been getting worse lately. This will really help us. All of it will help.”

He was quiet, looking out at the dark road. “A car will pick you up at 7:30. Movers will come by Saturday morning to pack up your things.”

“Goodnight, Lord Winchester,” you said, stepping back.

“It’s Dean,” he said, revving the engine, making your heart race. He took off, your chest still thumping when you went inside. 

“Kyle! I’m home with dinner!” You called. Kyle came rushing out of the hallway, a blanket pulled over his head. “I’m so sorry I’m late, buddy. Did you get scared?”

“No,” said the twelve year old, doing an awful job of hiding his relief. “What’s for dinner?”

“I’m not sure. Why don’t you find out for us?” You handed him the bag, Kyle rushing back to the kitchen with it. “How was school?”

“Fine.” He said nothing more as you entered, pleasantly surprised to find a balanced dinner of chicken, vegetables and some sweet potatoes inside. “Is this take out?”

“No. I uh, got a new job today,” you said, opening the box that had his medicine inside. “Hey. Got you a refill.”

“What’s your new job?” he asked, taking a plate from you and scooting into his spot at the small two seater table.

“I uh…work for Dark Lord Winchester. We’re, uh, moving on Saturday to live at the fortress. You’ll have your own room and there’s some other kids that live there too for you to play with. He uh, actually wanted me to tell you how sorry he was for keeping me late tonight.”

“Really? Cool.” You rolled your eyes. “Does he actually wear a skull mask and a black cloak?”

“No,” you laughed. “He looks very normal. Maybe you’ll get to meet him someday.”

“Cool,” he said again, frowning when you pointed at his untouched vegetables. “Y/N-“

“Eat them or Dark Lord Winchester won’t be happy…” you chided, Kyle shrinking down into his seat, reluctantly taking a bite, a flash of surprise on his face.

“These are way better than when you make them!” He started to scarf down the brussels sprouts as you sighed.

“I’m not dead and you’re eating veggies for once. I’ll take that as a win for today.”

The Next Morning

“Good morning, Lord Winchester,” you said as you rose from your desk outside his office on the far end of the second floor, dressed in skinny jeans, a bright yellow sleeveless blouse and an oversized blazer. Dean looked you up and down, his eyebrows raising. “HR said the dress code-“

“If I wanted everyone to wear suits, I’d have everyone wear them. Your outfit is fine. You’re probably not going to wear heels with the running around you’ll do,” he said, entering his office, waving for you to follow after. His legs looked long in the dark denim that clung to his thighs. He wore a white long sleeve Henley shirt with a navy button up over top, sleeves rolled up his forearms. “If you would stop staring at me could we get started?”

Your face flushed as you sat in the chair opposite his desk, Dean sitting with a groan and greedily sucking down a cup of coffee. 

“So your job is to make my life easier,” he said, opening his laptop, frowning at it. “I get a lot of…requests from my department heads. I need you to be a buffer between me and them for the day to day. I also need you to handle pop ups and act as a sounding board for myself.”

“HR went over the expectations with me,” you said, Dean grunting as he drank more coffee again. 

“Great. I need you to start with brainstorming ideas for how to rescue my brother from Crowley. We’ll meet after lunch to discuss.”

“King of The Dark Lands Crowley?” Dean hummed. “Isn’t he…”

“A demon? Oh yeah,” he said, giving you a barely there smile. “Shouldn’t be a problem for a little thief like you.”

________

A/N: Read Part two here!

[hyypnotix-writes]

Part 3

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

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

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

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

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

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

~ good luck! good bye xx ~

Part 1 Part 2

________________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mhmm.” 

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

“What on earth are you doing?” 

“Are you feeling okay?” 

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

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

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

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

“What?” 

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s wrong with that?” 

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

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

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

Yikes. You really are an idiot.   

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

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

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

“Will she be there today?” 

“Mhmm.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  

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

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

She’s very sexy in her little football kit and watching her kick a ball around is surprisingly entertaining. She’s also very good, even you can see that, and the fact that she’ll occasionally lift her shirt when she’s a little frustrated with herself? Well, replaying that in slow motion is entirely fine and acceptable.  

There’s no real heterosexual explanation for your enjoyment of it, but you can pretend it’s merely an appreciation of fitness for you to keep pausing all of the videos and zooming in on her body.  

It’s not something that you ask to learn about, but Em can’t help mentioning all of Alexia’s achievements to you. It’s very fun to find out about everything, and there’s a genuine sense of pride in you for all of her plentiful accolades.  

It does feel a little misplaced, perhaps. You probably still don’t know her well enough to be just as proud of her as you are, you’ve certainly not known her long enough to be quite so pleased for her.  

It’s also slightly daunting, maybe, realising how decorated she is. Finding out about her FIFA’s best awards, the World Cup, her consecutive Ballon d’Ors.  

This is a very highly celebrated woman that you’ve been mingling with.   

She’s widely regarded as the greatest women’s player, of all time. It’s not just your sister that’s been saying it, Alexia’s been awarded for it, on the television, in front of the whole world. There’s a mural of her in Barcelona, a viewpoint that’s been named after her, and it turns out, that there’s a fairly huge amount of people that really enjoy calling her La bloody Reina. She’s revered by these people, almost worshipped.  

You’re not letting it get to you too much. Yes, she’s widely adored, she’s won pretty much every single award it’s possible for her to achieve, and she’s only just turned 30. She’s famous and well-loved and you’re just a little nobody from London, but you’re not letting that get to you too much.   

That probably wouldn’t be very wise. That would bring questions into your head, and make you start doubting yourself. That’s not a fun thing for you to do. Why would you do that?   

Don’t do that, you’ll start spiralling. It doesn’t take much to get you overthinking. You spent the past month questioning your sexuality because of one single night with another woman. Don’t let yourself worry about it, that won’t end very well for you. Don’t let her success in her career start clouding who she is to you. She’s still just the confusing lime woman, at the end of the day.   

Don’t start thinking of her as Barcelona’s sweetheart, Alexia Putellas. That’s putting her on a pedestal that you’ll never be able to reach her on up there. That’s very careless of you, to leave her up there on it without you sitting next to her, don’t do that. She’s just a woman. A very beautiful and successful woman. That’s fine, there’s lots of them about. Calm down.  

The rain finally relents a few hours before the big match, and while it doesn’t really grant you a huge amount of time to do anything too adventurous, it is a relief to realise that you won’t be getting completely drenched as you watch Alexia play.  

Em makes a rather hasty escape to the beach, as soon as the sun makes its long-awaited appearance. She hasn’t enjoyed your little study session quite as much as you have. You really just can’t win with this woman. She’s grumpy when you hate football, she’s grumpy when you’re a fan of it. She really just loves being grumpy with everything.  

Your constant refusal to be taught anything about the Chelsea players probably didn’t help you to keep her happy, though. Your insistence that Barcelona is the far superior team, didn’t go down very well with her either. Your new ‘girl crush’ on Alexia Putellas was something she began to find really irritating. You were almost actively trying to wind her up, actually. Maybe you did deserve her abandonment, looking back. You were lucky the rain kept her about for as long as it did.  

She didn’t ask if you wanted to join her at the beach, but you’d have decided to stay where you are anyway. Making sure you really have learnt enough for tonight, is your number one priority at the moment. Quizzing yourself and rewatching a few more compilation videos, is far more important to you than the city around you. The tan you actually came out to Spain for really is taking a hit today, but you can enjoy Barcelona a bit more tomorrow.  

You’re having a small dilemma in the hotel bathroom, as you’re getting yourself ready for the game. It’s an escalating concern for you, and one that your sister is growing increasingly frustrated with you for. You’re going to be late to the match if you don’t start getting a move on.       

Em barges into the bathroom, startling you as you study yourself in the mirror, and you narrow your eyes at her reflection as she stands in the doorway, staring at you.      

“What’s taking you so long?” She asks, with a very clear tone of exasperation.       

“I’m debating.” You tell her thoughtfully, ignoring her choice of intonation completely, by offering her an innocent little smile, as she lets out a very long and loud groan behind you.       

“Of course, you are.” She mutters, and she leans against the doorframe, preparing herself for you to begin your impending little spiel.       

“Right. So, I want to have the whole shirt on display.” You begin, gesturing down the front of your body and tapping your fingers to the lettering across your back.  

“Of course, you do.”      

“Right. So, I’m thinking, hair up,” you explain, demonstrating your vision as you carefully scrape your hair up into a ponytail, before narrowing your eyes at your sister again, to see if she can also see the problem with your plan, “buuut..”     

“Is that a love bite?!” She exclaims, rushing towards you and tugging at your shirt collar to examine the light bruising on your neck.       

“Ex-actly!” You sigh in defeat, letting your hair cascade back down as you grab your makeup bag again, to have another go at concealing the little gift that Alexia left on you yesterday. “I knew I hadn’t done a good enough job with it.”      

“How did you get a love bite?!” She asks, still clearly shocked by your rather tame, levels of promiscuity, as she pushes you away from her in disgust.   

“The usual way.”       

“A man sucked on your neck?”      

“Is that how you usually get your love bites?”       

She pulls an immature face at you and flips you off in the mirror. “I’m 24!” She says, indignant. “I haven’t had a love bite in years!”      

“Well, that’s very sad and tragic of you.” You tell her with a sympathetic pout. “I can only apologise that you’re so prudish and boring, I hope you’re able to recover from that soon!”      

“You’re in a very annoying mood.” She recognises with a sigh, frowning at your reflection as you carry on with your camouflage attempt. “We’ve only been here a day! I thought I was supposed to be the slutty sibling!”      

“You are the slutty sibling.” You remind her with a chuckle. “You were in a relationship just last week, and I’ve already had to make breakfast for three different girls since you broke up!”      

She smiles at you, very proudly, because she’s very very gross, and has absolutely no shame in it.       

“It’s no wonder you looked so happy last night, then.” She says, carefully inspecting your neck for you. “That’s covered it, you’re fine.”      

“Mm. Thank you very kindly!” You tell her, giving her a great big kiss on the cheek for her assistance, that she very quickly rubs back off again.       

“Be less annoying!” She begs.       

“I will not be making any promises!” You warn her, smiling widely as you tie your hair up and give yourself another once over. “How are we looking?” You ask, giving her a quick twirl.       

“Traitorous.” She grumbles.  

“Perfect!” You squeal, excitedly grabbing her hand and pulling her out of the hotel room with you.  

Your enthusiasm doesn’t die out at all, as you clamber into the taxi with your sister, and, as luck would have it, your driver is an even bigger culer than you are. You’re able to have a pretty in-depth conversation with him, what with all of the new knowledge that you’ve so recently acquired, and Em’s just ecstatic for the pair of you.

It isn’t a long drive from the hotel to the stadium, but you do clearly make quite the impression on the driver, as you end up having to reject, with as much politeness as possible, his invitation of a date for after the game.  

You’re really hoping to have other plans tonight, with some much-preferred female company.      

“He’s not ugly.” Em informs you quietly as you get out of the car, and she certainly isn’t wrong.  

‘Not ugly’ is just about as big a compliment as Em will ever give, regarding a man. So, you can rest assured that he is actually a very good-looking gentleman.  She narrows her eyes at you suspiciously as you close the door to the vehicle, and you furrow your brow back at her.  

“What?”     

“You can agree to go out with him tonight, you don’t need to look after me.”      

You shake your head at her, with a mild grimace, muttering out an ‘mm’, as your only offering of an explanation for your lack of interest in him. “No doubt you’ll be going home with someone else after the match?” You check, trying to switch the focus back to her.  

“Naturally.” She winks. “It’s been an unsuccessful holiday otherwise!”     

There's still an unfortunate level of determination in your sister to get you a date for tonight, and you have to really insist, that you simply don’t want the driver’s number. She eventually reluctantly agrees to let him take off, giving him an apologetic nod as he rolls up the window, and you give her an uncomfortable smile as she turns her attention back to you.  

“I really think you should be getting back on the horse.” She encourages, still eyeing you with suspicion as you start the short walk to the stadium. “You can’t waste your life pining after Jamie forever.”      

“I’m really not doing that.” You tell her with a sigh. “I just didn’t want to go out on a date with him.”      

“Do you already have plans with hickey-man?” She giggles.  

“Please don’t call them that,” you chuckle, “and no ..not technically.”      

“But that’s who you’re hoping to find again?”      

“Mhmm.” You mumble, trying to stifle the smile that’s pulling at your lips.  

“Is he nice?”      

“Mhmm.”      

“Is he attractive?”      

“Mhmm.”      

“Do you like him?” She asks, wiggling her eyebrows at you.      

“..Mhmm.” You reply again, and your slightly nervous smile fully takes over your face.  

“Oh ..you really like him. After just one love bite?” She questions, narrowing her eyes at you again. “You don’t usually fall so quickly.” She tells you, and you can only shrug at the suggestive tone to her voice.      

“I don’t really know what you want me to say to that?”      

“I just ..want you to be careful.” She explains. “I don’t want you getting hurt again.”      

“You were just trying to bag me a date with him?”      

“Yeah, but as a one-night thing.” She clarifies. “Falling in love with a random Spanish man isn’t the best way of getting over your ex.”      

“I’m not in love with them, and I’m not ..really still trying to get over Jamie.”      

“Hm. Good. He was a prat.” She reminds you with a rather disgusted looking frown at the memory of him.    

“Thanks, Em.”   

“Ugly cheating bast—”     

“Okay, Em. Enough.”     

“But he was an ugly cheating bas—“ 

“Enough!” 

“Sorry. He was a horrible dickhead, though.” 

“I know.” You sigh. “I get it, thanks.” 

“He still gets to you?” She realises, noticing that your hands have balled themselves into tight fists, and your stomach turns slightly as you shrug your shoulders at her.  

“A little.” You admit, as a less exciting reimagining of events begins to torment your brain. “I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with him, only to find out he’d been sleeping around for two years.” 

“Two years?” She asks, eyes going wide, and you kick yourself for saying too much.  

“I thought I already told you that.” 

“No ..you told me he’d been with a few women. Two fucking years?” 

“Please don’t do the maths, you’ll hate him even more.” 

You attempt to walk away, already having had enough of the conversation, but you don’t get very far.  

“You are joking.” She says, grabbing your arm to stop your escape attempt. “He cheated on you, because Mum died?”      

“Not because Mum died, you idiot. Even he wouldn’t be that foul.”     

“But it’s linked?”     

“Enough, please.”   

“No. What the fuck, Y/N?”      

“That’s enough, okay. I just want to enjoy the match. We can talk about it later.”     

“We can talk about it now! I have the tickets,” she reminds you, with a very clear anger brewing in her, “you’re not getting in there without me! Why the fuck would he cheat on you aft—”     

“Because I didn’t really fancy having sex with him straight after.” You interrupt, in a hushed tone, trying to stop her from causing a scene. “I didn’t fancy having it for a while, he clearly had ..needs.”     

“Don’t justify it.”    

“I’m not ..but ..I understand why he did it. I practically pushed him into the arms of other women.”     

“That’s disgusting, Y/N. You can’t really be blaming yourself for it?”     

“Well ..I don’t know..” You mumble.   

“He cheated on you for two years, because you didn’t want to sleep with him for a bit, and you think that’s okay?”  

“That’s not what I said. I just ..get it.”   

You turn away from her again, to carry on with the walk and she hurries after to you to keep in step, not really content in letting this godforsaken conversation die out just yet.  

“That’s really the excuse he used?” She asks.   

“That’s why it started, apparently. There was obviously ..something else, for him to want to carry on doing it.” You admit, fidgeting with your fingers uncomfortably as you start thinking. “Maybe I was ..missing something that he liked or ..not doing something he wanted me to. I—” you let out a sigh, shaking your head, “..it really doesn’t matter, okay? Please, that’s enough. I honestly haven’t been thinking about him, I don’t want to start again now.”     

“I’m sorry.” She tells you, with a clear look of remorse, and you give her a light nod with a tight-lipped smile in an attempt to ease her guilt.  

You carry on your walk for only a few paces before realising Em is no longer travelling with you, and you turn back to find her staring at her feet. “What are you doing?” You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose between your fingers and thumb.  

She taps her toes to the ground a few times, before lifting her head and approaching you with a real sense of purpose. “Here,” she says, handing you a small piece of paper, “in case you can’t find hickey-man.” She tells you, and you do let yourself chuckle a little at Alexia’s unfortunate new nickname as you unfurl the note.     

“You got his number for me? I really don’t need this.” You sigh. You hold the paper out to return to her, but she pushes it back to you.   

“I think you do.” She tells you earnestly. “I don’t think it’s good for you to keep getting hung up on people. First Italian-man, now hickey-man. You were even working yourself up about one kiss with that Spanish woman.” She rolls her eyes at you, before giving you a sincere look of concern. “I know you fall hard, but you don’t usually fall fast. It's weird, and it’s not like you.” She explains, placing her hands on your arms, trying to get you to listen to her better. “I think you should have a proper meaningless night with someone.” She suggests with a shrug “He’s not ugly, and you’re not interested. That’s perfect one-night stand material! You're welcome!”     

“Fine ..thanks.” You mutter, giving her a little nod in defeat as you stare at the number in your hand.  

A meaningless night with a stranger really isn’t what you’re after, but you’re not about to fight her on it now. It’s not an ideal conversation to have just had, really. Your sister isn’t exactly calculated enough to have done it deliberately, she’s not trying to upset you because your footballing-happiness was winding her up too much.  

It’s frustrating from her, but she’s genuinely concerned about you, and maybe she has a reason to be. Maybe you have been ignoring some things about yourself, refusing to confront a few little issues that are bubbling under the surface.  

The ending of your relationship isn’t super ancient history, and you were with him for an unfortunately excessive amount of time. Meaningless hookups were exactly what you were preparing yourself for before Alexia ended up being your first one and ruining the rest of your plans.  

You do know that you’re not letting yourself get hung up over three separate people, though. Italian-man, hickey-man and Spanish-woman are all one person, and letting yourself get so hung up on Alexia as quickly as you are, is fine. Probably. That’s not really a cause for concern.  

Right? 

Of course, you’ve still spent less than 24 hours with her, there’s probably still lots of things you don’t know about each other. You have shared some pretty intimate details about yourselves together already, though, and she doesn’t feel like a rebound, as such. That would be grotesquely underselling the connection between you both.  

She is a woman, which is still new to you, and you really don’t usually fall so quickly for people. It took that bellend over six months to finally wear you down for a date. All Alexia needed to do was hold out a lime for you, to get herself wedged inside of your head.  

Don’t let yourself think about it too hard, you’ll do yourself a mischief. You’re just here to watch some football. You’re here to watch the girl you like, play a bit of football.  

Let’s not overthink, it isn’t good for you. It will only lead to questions and concerns, and that’s not what you need right now. Let’s have fun! 

The atmosphere around the stadium is quite the riot, and it’s very effective in distracting you. There’s flares being let off, the sound of trumpets and drums, there’s colourful smoke everywhere, the most enormous flags you’ve ever seen in your life. It’s like a little carnival, and it’s invigorating, letting yourself get swept up in the excitement of it all.  

You receive a tremendous amount of friendly looks, solely because of the badge over your heart and the name proudly on display on your back and noticing that your sister isn’t shown the same courtesy for wearing her Chelsea shirt, really only adds to your enjoyment of the occasion.  

Em drags you through the large flock of fans, trying to make sure that you don’t get separated from each other on your way into the stadium, and you keep offering up apologies on her behalf, as she carelessly mows people down for you. She is quite the woman on a mission.   

You opt to keep your head down, a little embarrassed by your sister’s rudeness, but even as you make an effort to avoid making eye contact with all of the disgruntled supporters that she keeps barging through, there is one thing that you do struggle to avoid seeing, with some of the Barcelona fans.    

An overwhelmingly impressive amount of them, also have ‘ALEXIA’ on their shirts.    

This doesn’t come as a complete shock to you. She is the best player on the team, after all. There is something about seeing her name plastered over quite so many strangers’ backs, however, that has sent your heart racing.    

This turnout of people is undoubtedly nothing compared to the millions of followers that you found out she has on Instagram yesterday, but it’s a very different feeling, seeing her fame condensed into a little figure on social media, than it is, to actually seeing so many of them in person. It’s much harder for you to ignore the countless amount of admirers that she has, when you keep physically bumping into all of them.   

“Are you good?” Em asks, as you find yourself frozen in the crowd, staring at the back of another person’s shirt.   

“Hm? Yeah, sorry.” You mutter, giving your head a shake, before letting yourself get dragged along again. “She’s very ..popular.”    

“Putellas?” She checks, and you can only nod back at her, still a little dumbfounded by it all. “Well, yeah. Obviously!” She snickers. “Come on!”   

Maybe it’s pride that you’re feeling. Knowing you’ve been spending a bit of time with someone so well-liked. That’s very nice for you, that’s entirely enjoyable and fun. It doesn’t need to be anything other than that. What good would that do for you?  

Perhaps there's a slight nervous tension in your stomach, at seeing her name absolutely everywhere. That’s probably understandable and fine. You knew she was famous, but that’s still a little confounding to actually play witness to. No one’s going to hold that against you, it’s okay to be a little overwhelmed by it all.   

It’s a new reality for you. It makes sense that that would be accompanied with a new feeling too. Anxiety isn’t something that’s really presented itself to you when thinking of Alexia before now. Of course it isn't, why would it have been?   

Picturing little scenarios with her in your mind was fun, it was silly. It didn’t really mean anything when you were never going to find her again. You didn’t need to go putting doubts about yourself in imaginary-Alexia’s head, that wouldn’t keep things very fun and silly at all.   

There are a few doubts about yourself in your own head now, perhaps. Seeing as you have found her again, you’re falling for her, and she’s clearly not the little nobody that you thought you’d entangled yourself with, but that’s probably fine. It’ll be a temporary thing. Let’s not worry about it right this second. Let’s just enjoy the game instead!  

It really isn’t wise for you to start stewing on things. You really will start spiralling.   

How could you not?   

If you start letting yourself think too hard about all the things that you were lacking, and what you simply couldn’t offer to keep a pathetic pig of a man satisfied, and you really start allowing yourself to question why you weren’t good enough for him, that isn’t going to put you in a very good mindset when seeing all these fans that Alexia has.   

Her supporters aren’t limited to just little kids or grown men. There’s a lot of women here, also sporting her name. It isn’t necessarily the case that all of these women are gay, that’s not really how watching women’s football works. She can have straight women being her fans too.   

Some of them are probably gay, though, aren’t they? Lots of the ones that are gay, with her name on them, might have a little crush on her. It’s very likely that absolutely none of them will have had to do research all day to make sure that they knew what was going on this evening. All of them will have already known everything. They’ll be genuinely into football, genuine fans of Alexia.   

Gorgeous, confidently gay, and really into football. Those are the women that surround you right now. That’s fine. What’s wrong with that?  

Why are you letting yourself worry? Why are you letting them get to you? Because they make more sense for her? Because they’re better for her? Because you’re not a fan of football?   

Alexia already knows that, she didn’t walk out on you because of it. 

She did giggle a few times at your idiocy, though, didn’t she? So, she probably did think you were a little foolish. She would presumably think it was a bit lame of you, to have spent quite so much time studying for a football match. Who else has ever had to do that? You really probably are the only one. That is a bit embarrassing. Quite pathetic of you.   

Damn.   

What a loser, you are.   

Shit.   

Maybe you should let it get to you. Maybe you’ve let yourself get carried away. Maybe you’re having a psychotic break. You’re letting yourself fall for a woman. A Spanish woman. A famous Spanish woman. A famous Spanish woman who plays football professionally, for crying out loud! Look at all of these beautiful lesbian fans that she has here. What the hell do you think you’re playing at?   

You? A little nobody from London, who couldn’t even keep an ugly bastard of a man happy? If you weren’t even able to manage to do that, how could you possibly hope to be good enough, for two-time Ballon d’Or recipient, current Champions League and World Cup winner, Barcelona’s sweetheart, Alexia Putellas?   

That doesn’t seem very likely at all, does it? You being the soulmate of this ethereal goddess of a woman? Behave yourself. You really are delusional.   

Maybe that’s why she wanted you here, to laugh at you. Point and laugh at you with all of her football friends.   

Just go home now. Pretend that you’re ill. You do look a little ill. You’ve let yourself spiral, haven’t you? I did warn you about doing that. Now look at the state of you. This is very tragic.  

 

“Mate, what are you doing?” Em asks, as you once again find yourself paralysed, staring at yet another stranger’s shirt.    

“I just ..I don’t feel well.” You mumble.    

“Noo. Please don’t do that!” She begs, all too aware of what your next statement is going to be. “We’re here now!” She reminds you, bouncing on her toes. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought up that wanker, but please, we can still enjoy this together. You’ve been so excited about it all day.” She gives you a very sad pout, lightly pulling on your arm, trying to encourage you to keep following her.   

You really have been excited all day. It would be a shame to let your intrusive thoughts ruin it for you. You don’t want to let that bastard keep dictating all of the fun you’re allowed to have. You’re just here to enjoy some football.  

Woo!  

“Sorry. I just—” You pause, giving your head another shake as you try to catch your breath. “She’s just ..very popular.” You reiterate, gesturing to the stranger’s back with your thumb.   

“Did you think you’d be the only one here wearing her name?” She snorts. “I told you the woman who gave it to you was basic.”  

Your mind is still racing a little as you follow your sister out towards the stands. The atmosphere is even more intense inside of the stadium, and you try to let yourself embrace it all again, but it is mildly dizzying this time around.  

Em has nabbed you some pretty decent seats to be fair to her, though. One thing about your sister, she is absolutely going to treat herself and overspend on her interests without a care in the world. It’s something you often advise against her doing, it's not the wisest thing for her to do with her money. You couldn’t really be more grateful for it right now, though, when you’re practically sitting front row.  

Both teams are still out warming up, and you let your eyes roam the Barcelona side for a moment. You finally notice Alexia amongst all of the chaos, and you immediately stop noticing anything else. Your mind goes completely blank, just at the mere sight of her.  

She really does calm you right down, truly nothing else matters when she’s around you. That’s really very lovely. It’s a good thing you don’t live in two separate countries from each other. Imagine the way your mind would implode if you couldn’t just look at her all the time to stop your mental deterioration.. 

You watch Alexia, as she completes her runs, does some drills, begins to stretch. It’s like she’s the only one out there on the field, working in slow motion, putting on a show, just for you. There’s absolutely no reason for it to be as sexy as it is, she’s literally just warming up, but you find yourself, jaw clenched, as you observe her movements.   

She pauses for a drink break, and you remain mesmerised as she squeezes a jet of water into her mouth and pours a little extra over her face. You bite down on your bottom lip as you follow the beads of liquid rolling down her neck, slowly travelling under her shirt, and your breath hitches, as you allow yourself to remember exactly what it is that she’s concealing under her shirt. You can picture that body perfectly; you’ve thought of little else aside from it for over a month.  

She’s all hot, and sweaty, and— please! Pull yourself together! You’re in public, and you’re practically drooling. Do you remember when you were straight? Straight straight straight. Try channeling a bit more of that, perhaps. You’ll be an absolute puddle right there in your seat, otherwise.  

“There’s your one.” Your sister reminds you, making you jump as she nudges you and gestures down across to the pitch, once again pulling you away from your redacted thoughts.   

“Oh yeah! Thanks.” You tell her, feigning surprise, as you hide the small smile on your face, and swallow down on your arousal. You subtly wipe at the corners of your mouth with the back of your finger, just in case a bit of drool really had started falling, and you nod to your sister in acknowledgment. “She really is quite ..pretty.” You say pointedly, paying close attention to your sister’s thoughts and feelings on the matter.   

It probably wouldn’t be ideal if your sister showed an interest. She has a rather troubling talent with the ladies, and you’re not too sure you’d rate your chances going up against her, where another woman’s concerned.  

It really isn’t something you’ve ever had to think about before. There was never any chance of you two being into the same person until Alexia flicked a switch inside of your head. It was only a joke when she mentioned it in the café, but you can’t pretend it hasn’t niggled in the back of your mind a little.  

If you do end up introducing them, and they really hit it off? They almost certainly have more in common than you and Alexia do. They could talk for days about football together; they both have multiple tattoos where you only have a single measly little thing on your ribs. They’re both definitely gay, which is far more than you can say about yourself.  

That’s three strikes right there, isn’t it? That’s not very good.  

That’s all you get.  

You’re already out of the race.  

You’ll introduce them, they’ll fall in love, get married, have kids, and you’re left pining after your sister’s wife for the rest of eternity. Even the sweet release of death wouldn’t save you from a heartache that powerful. That’s an eternal pain. It’s permanent, infinite. A truly deathless agony that’ll haunt you till the very end of time itself.  

Good grief! 

What’s going on with you? You’re being very dramatic and sad suddenly. This really isn’t like you. You’ve only met this woman twice. Snap out of it! 

“Sure, I guess.” Em shrugs, not at all taken in by Alexia’s beauty. She really does have very questionable taste in women. You really should have known that already, that isn’t new information to you. You desperately need to calm down, you’re getting yourself into a really bad place.  

“Which one’s that?” She asks you, testing your knowledge as she points to another player on the field.   

“Ona Batlle.” You tell her confidently, shaking your worries from your head as you try to focus on what really matters right now. “Defender. Used to play for United.”  

“Very good,” she commends, genuinely quite impressed with the results of your last-minute cramming, “and that?”  

“María León. Mapi. Also, a defender. Didn’t go to the World Cup.”  

“Mhmm! And that?”  

“Not a bloody clue!”  

“For fuck’s sake.” She grumbles.   

“What? She’s one of yours,” you point out, grinning, “I don’t give a shit about the Chelsea players!”  

“You really are a twat.” She tells you, smacking your shoulder, before she crosses her arms and leans back into her seat. “Do you remember how the game works?” She asks you, rather condescendingly. “Do you need me to go through it all again for you?”  

“No, thank you.” You reassure her, innocently. “I think I’ve got it all memorised ..it’s just the best of three sets in the women’s game, right?”  

“Twat.” Em calls you again, and you chuckle to yourself, relaxing back down into your own seat, entirely satisfied with just how incredibly easy she is to wind up.  

You return your attention back to Alexia’s warmup routine, making sure to not keep letting your mind run wild with more dirty thoughts. It has been over a month for you, but even your sister’s showing a bit more decorum with her ogling of Sam Kerr. You really can control yourself better than this, you are not an animal.  

Alexia pauses her drills to have another sexy little drink, and you notice her surveying the crowd as she downs her water. She does a very careful examination of the away section, and she stops to stare, as soon as she finds you.  

You’re once again the only two people in the whole vicinity, as her eyes meet yours, and a bashful smile takes over her face.  

Whatever concerns you might be battling with, you can definitely be certain, that this woman wants you here today, and she isn’t at all discreet about how happy she is to see that you’ve come, and that you’re wearing her shirt.  

She mouths a little ‘hi’ to you, and it’s impossible for you not to smile at her, when your heart’s jumping up inside of your chest. You mouth back a ‘hi’ followed by a ‘wow’, with a slight wince, as you dramatically flit your eyes around your surroundings, and she bites at her lip, with a clear sense of awkwardness.  

‘I’m sorry.’ She tells you silently, but you shake your head at her with a furrowed brow.  

‘Don’t be daft, good luck!’ you offer with a smile, and a subtle thumbs up. You tap proudly at the badge on your chest, and Alexia’s smile only grows as she watches you.  

She responds with a nod, a ‘gracias’ and her own thumbs up, which clearly wasn’t as subtle as yours, as it didn’t go unnoticed by your sister.  

“Was that directed at you?” She asks, squinting at Alexia as she moves with the other players down towards the tunnel.   

“Hm? Looked like that, didn’t it?” 

“That’s quite cool.” She acknowledges. “She’ll probably think you got lost on the way in, sitting here with us. You don’t exactly blend in!”  

“No, that’s true.” You chuckle, tapping your hands down the red stripes on your torso. “Maybe she just felt bad for me, stuck here with you losers.”  

“Mm.” She grumbles, pulling a face at you. “That’s Sam Kerr!” She informs you excitedly, quickly moving on from your interaction, and focusing back on who she deems to be, the more important star of this evening’s show.   

“I know who Sam Kerr is,” you sigh, “I’m not an idiot. I’ve seen her poster on your wall.”  

“Mmmmmm.” She hums, gazing very dreamily at the striker as she makes her own way off of the pitch.   

“Oh, please.” You start, rolling your eyes at the state that she’s getting herself into. “Have some self-control, Em, we’re in public!”  

You really are a shameless little hypocrite.

  

Goosebumps spread all over your skin as the teams return to the pitch, and the Champions League anthem rings out around the stadium. You can feel the excitement really getting to you, as the hairs on your arms stand up on end.  

It’s very overwhelming. You couldn’t have cared less about this match yesterday morning, and now it’s the most important thing in the world to you.  

All for a girl, what has gotten into you?  

The game is highly contested right from the first whistle. With the first leg ending in a 0-0 draw, neither team is able to rely on aggregate to get themselves through, and you can feel the pressure that the players are under.  

Both sides are naturally desperate to win, though expectation is slightly higher for Barcelona, seeing as they won the whole thing last season.   

There’s a very mild sense of nervousness in you about the result. You’re not really sure how you’d go about consoling someone after a huge sporting defeat. You’ve never been very good at comforting Em when a football score has left her upset, and it’s probably far worse when you’re actually on the team that’s lost, and not just watching it through the television.  

You know exactly how Alexia would be able to cheer you up, and you’d be more than willing to try the same technique with her. She might not be as horned up as you clearly are, though. You may very well need to start drafting a proper commiserative speech for her, if the game does start running away from them. Sexual favours may simply not be enough.  

You do take some comfort in the fact that Barcelona haven’t lost to Chelsea before, and while you appreciate that nothing’s guaranteed in sports, Alexia’s very good, and you know for a fact that the rest of her teammates really aren’t too shabby either. There’s a reason that they’ve won this whole thing twice, and you’re letting the knowledge of that keep you from getting too worked up about it.  

Alexia’s the best in the world, and no best in the world is losing to bloody Chelsea, not today.  

Alexia’s incredible for you to watch when she plays, even when she only has possession for a second. She’s just a wizard on the ball, the way she reads the game so easily, how she seems to predict everyone’s movements. She’s always in control, unwaveringly calm, deliberate in her choices.  

She almost dances with the ball, and it’s impossible to deny how unbelievably gifted she is, as she weaves around her opponents. She has a very distinctive flair, for making it all look so effortless. It’s just incredibly sexy of her, and you find yourself wiping at the corners of your mouth again as you watch on, just in case.   

It’s not a skill that you’ve ever really appreciated in a person before. You’ve had boyfriends that played football in school, you watched your sister plenty of times when she was little, but you never really focused on them while they were actually playing.  

You’d cheer at the right moments, making the correct noises when you needed to, just following the rest of the crowd’s lead, mainly. You found it all a bit boring, really, it didn’t mean anything to you.   

Now, Alexia’s only casually passing the ball between herself and a few of her teammates, and you’re absolutely entranced by her, you couldn’t think of anything else you’d rather be watching. There’s a glow to her as she plays. She’s enthralling, captivating. You might be her number one fan.  

The match aside from Alexia’s performance, is far more tense than you’d care to admit. Both teams have plenty of attempts on goal, neither of them score. Every missed shot from Barcelona has you cursing under your breath, and every near goal from Chelsea has you covering your eyes like a child. It’s a little unbearable, you absolutely love it. It’s what sport’s all about.   

It’s a very unexpected reaction from you. The way your heart’s started palpitating, the slight tightness in your shoulders whenever a Chelsea player’s on the ball, the elation shooting through you every time Barcelona regains possession. It’s the skin around the nail of your thumb that suffers the most under your passion, as you nibble at it relentlessly, watching everything unfold with a high degree of intensity.   

You keep knocking your sister every time Alexia gets close to scoring, gripping at Em’s sleeve and tugging at her in anticipation. It’s hard to tell if it’s an excitable twitch, or if it’s stress-tapping of your foot, but every nerve in your body is on fire as you watch Alexia in her element. Em still can’t really understand your newly established avidity for the game, but she continually embraces it all with a light chuckle as she keeps telling you to “please, calm down.”   

The whistle blows for halftime and it’s still level at 0-0. You can barely contain yourself, letting out a huge breath that you weren’t fully aware you’d been holding in.   

“I can’t survive another half like that!” You warn Em, bashing your head against her shoulder. “I need a goal. Just one goal!” Your legs are bobbing up and down, as the adrenaline in you tries to find a way of escaping your body, and she rests her hand over them to calm you down.  

“Do you need a wee?” She asks, a little concerned at the mess you’re turning into, and you shake your head with a laugh.   

“No, I’m good, thanks! I just ..really want them to win.”  

“You’re really into it, aren’t you?” She chuckles.  

“Mhmm. Thank you for bringing me here.”  

“You’re welcome! I’m glad you decided to stay.” She tells you, with a proud smile on her face at finally winning you over on her favourite interest. “It’s a shame you’re rooting for the dark side, though. It’s weird that this is the team that speaks to you.”  

“Mm. I’m sorry about that.” You offer half-heartedly, pulling at the badge on your shirt to give it a kiss.  

“You’re such a traitor,” she tells you with a flick to your forehead, “Dad will be disgusted when I tell him.” 

 

The second half starts, and it’s much the same as the first. There’s more near misses, a few choice attempts on goal, and the game starts getting far sloppier as both sides get more desperate to score. There are some pretty ugly fouls, resulting in a few yellow cards being issued to both teams, and you’re suddenly far less concerned with winning, and far more worried about Alexia just making it out in one piece.  

“It’s quite brutal!” You point out to your sister, flinching as another Chelsea player goes tumbling to the ground.  

“Mm. You think she’d be more careful.” She tells you. She taps at the number on your shirt, and it sends an instant chill racing up the back of your neck.  

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You question, biting down hard on your thumb as you await her response.  

“She tore her ACL a couple years back, took her out of the Euros. She hardly played at all last season.” 

“Tore her ACL?” You ask, exhaling slowly as you make the connection in your head. “Would that be her knee?” 

“Mhmm.” 

“Shit.” Drops out of your mouth, as you bite your thumb a little too deeply, and you try to shake the stinging from your hand.  

It makes sense, that Em would choose to withhold this little titbit of information from you, you really are quite squeamish. If you’d known this game could turn into such a bloodbath, you’d have probably elected to stay home. 

Alexia had played it coy, when you traced your fingers over her scars that night. She wasn’t exactly uncomfortable with you asking her about them, but it still wasn’t something she was going to get into with you. You weren’t going to force the issue too hard, you’re not an idiot, but it had certainly piqued your interest. She really wasn’t forthcoming with any information about herself, and it quickly became apparent how talented she was at deflecting from your queries.  

It stopped being at the forefront of your mind completely, when she was otherwise so distracting with it. Her scars didn’t inhibit her at all when she was pressing her knee against you. It felt good, she seemed fine, who were you to question? 

“Should she be playing at all?” You ask flicking your thumb against your finger to try and weaken the pain shooting through it.  

“Sure! Lots of them do, you just think it’d freak ‘em out a bit more.” She tells you. “It’s amazing she still throws herself into it as much as she does, really.” 

“You don’t become the best by tapping out.” You recognise, and she excitedly nods her head at you.  

“No, exactly! Sometimes it happens again, though. Can be the exact same rupture, different tear, same leg. A few players have it happen to their other leg..” Em continues to give you a very unhelpful rundown of just how common this career-jeopardising injury seems to be, and an uncomfortable lump forms in your throat as she goes a little too deep into all of the details with it. “Are you okay?” She asks, cutting herself off at your obvious discomfort at her lecture, and she gently taps at your shoulder. “You’ve gone quite pale.” 

“I don’t like seeing people get hurt, you know that.” 

“She’ll be alright.” She reassures you, gesturing to the Chelsea player as she pulls herself back to her feet. “It’s just when a player gets stretchered off, really. That’s when you properly worry about them.” 

You suddenly find yourself, very stressed. 

It immediately feels like Alexia, in particular, has a target on her back as the game continues. Every time she gets on the ball, a Chelsea player comes flying in, rather aggressively, trying to win it back off of her. It’s a very violent onslaught, and it’s not one that you’re keen on watching.   

She spends most of the second half having to drag herself back to her feet, and you no longer feel like you can just blame it on the slightly wet grass, when there’s a menacing little Chelsea player hovering ominously over her every time she goes down to the ground.  

The game is still level as the clock starts running down the final few minutes, but any sense of relief that this torture is almost over, is immediately extinguished, as you remember that this specific game would have to go to extra time, and then penalties, if no one’s able to break the deadlock.   

Penalty shootouts, on their own, are usually just about the only thing you can tolerate in football, when you’re a neutral with zero stakes. It sounds like a nightmare now, however. Especially as it means you’d have to endure 30 extra minutes of the Chelsea players’ assault on Alexia.   

You really can’t take it. Your heart’s started thumping. You have a headache forming. Your fingers have turned to ice.  

You’re out of your seat as Alexia makes a beeline for the goal in the 87th minute. It’s an incredible scoring opportunity, she can’t miss.   

A Chelsea defender appears to the side of her, as if from nowhere as Alexia lines up her shot, and she’s brutally slid into, just outside of the area.   

You can hear the collision as it happens, it almost reverberates throughout the whole stadium. Life in the arena comes to a complete standstill, as everyone just watches it all unfold.   

Alexia goes down, and the world stops spinning, your heart stops beating, and time stands still.   

She stays down, and your body goes rigid, your blood runs cold, and you want to be sick.  

Get up. Please get up.  

Your sister grips on to your arm trying to comfort you, trying to tell you that it probably isn’t as bad as it looked, but your eyes don’t move from where Alexia lies on the floor, clutching her knee.   

Medics are rushed onto the pitch with a stretcher in hand, and you remain frozen in place.   

Please get up. Just get up.  

The defender is back on her feet only a minute after the tackle, and she’s shown a yellow card for her foul. You want to throttle the referee right there and then.  

“It should be a straight fucking red!” You shout, as you grip your hands together on the top of your head, trying to distract yourself from the burning in your eyes, and the new quiet ringing that’s started in your ears.   

You receive a couple of snide looks from the supporters surrounding you for your little outburst, and you can hear a few less-than-friendly words being bellowed out at you, but frankly, you don’t give a fuck.  

Just get up. Get up and walk off if you have to. Just get. up.  

You want to jump over the seats. Push every annoying, arsehole supporter in a Chelsea shirt right out of your way and invade the pitch to be with her. Your body’s screaming out at you to do something, anything, and you can’t. You’re useless to her.   

Just get up.  

Alexia looks to be in agony on the ground. A few of the Barcelona players are swarming the referee for her blatant incompetence. Even the other Chelsea players are a little amazed that they’ve gotten away with it, without going a player down.   

It was a dirty foul. Out of character, according to your sister. You don’t care. It could’ve been a complete accident by her, and you’re not fussed. It was reckless, it was filthy, and she should be off that goddamn pitch with some level of suspension at least.  

Get up. Please.  

Em tries to pull you back into your seat and you still don’t budge. You stand where you are, watching the small crowd on the pitch, as it slowly blocks Alexia from your view. You bite at the skin on your thumb, willing yourself to stay calm, willing Alexia to just get the fuck up.   

It feels like a lifetime waiting for things to happen, for any sign of development from the scene on the ground. You ultimately collapse back down into your chair, trying to catch your breath, trying to stop the world from swirling around you, trying to stop your brain from assuming the worst. You close your eyes, holding your face in your hands, blocking it all out.  

Get. Up.   

This isn’t really what you signed up for, is it? You wanted to watch the girl you like, play a little game of football. Possibly celebrate her winning, with some adult-fun-time. Not find out that she’s fairly recently had such a serious injury, and then watch her go crashing down to the ground, holding that specific body part. You can’t do anything about it. You can’t help. You’re stuck in place, watching it all happen right in front of you.  

This is torture. Maybe this is why you never let yourself get into football. Who is this fun for exactly? What’s the point in it all?  

What an unbelievably useless waste of your time. You were already in a bad enough place before the game kicked off and distracted you from it. Now it’s made it worse. This is terrible. You really should have just stayed home. Imagine coming all the way out to Spain and making yourself bloody ill with it. Jesus Christ.  

Please. Get up.  

After what feels like hours, the medics do start slowly dissipating and there’s a cautious ripple of applause around the stadium, because Alexia has gotten up, but not of her own accord. She’s being flanked by Mapi and Asisat, and she looks very unstable.  

They carefully remove themselves from under her arms, and she’s not very well balanced at all. She’s reluctant to put too much weight on her leg, she’s limping, and she’s still gripping onto Mapi for dear life, but she's not being stretchered off. She’s up, and you can breathe again.   

You watch on as she tests her strength, steadily gaining confidence that her knee isn’t going to give way beneath her, and she puts her hand up to Jonatan to indicate that she will not be getting subbed off. She gives her body a shake, looks over in your direction, and she nods to herself with a reinvigorated sense of determination.   

You don’t know if you’re completely turned on by her bold display of bravery, or if you want to give her a slap for being quite so carelessly audacious. She doesn’t need to play the hero; you’d rather she just sat it out.  

“What is she doing?” You mutter under your breath, shaking your head as Alexia waits to be let back into the game.  

“You don’t become the best by tapping out!” Em reminds you, with a smile, patting your shoulder reassuringly. Her entire demeanour is in stark contrast to the one that you’re currently displaying, and as comforting as she’s trying to be by rubbing at your arm, it isn’t very effective. “Are you sure you’re okay?” She asks. “You look really unwell.”  

“Mhmm.” Is all you’re able to mumble out, as your eyes lock onto Alexia on the sidelines.  

The free kick awarded for the foul is saved, and Alexia’s back on the pitch for the corner. You want to stop her. You want to swear at her. You can’t handle it. You need a drink.   

You grab at the neckline of your shirt and pull it up over the bottom half of your face. You’re very very stressed. Even the familiar smell of her on your top isn’t doing much to comfort you. She’s an idiot. She’s so unbelievably stupid. What the fuck?  

You watch the corner kick, as the ball goes sailing over the heads of everyone, before it connects with Alexia’s forehead and skims past the tips of the keeper’s fingers.   

The stadium erupts around you, and you’re back up off of your seat, letting out your own roar in celebration. Your eyes are absolutely stinging with tears, as you hold your forehead against your hands, and there’s more than a few snide looks at you from the supporters you’re buried in, given your lack of propriety about the situation.  

You’re getting called every colourful derogatory term under the sun for your rather ungodly little cheer, and still, you couldn’t care less. You let out a few huge breaths, trying to steady yourself, and despite her team now trailing in the final minutes, Em wraps her arms around you, giving you a shake, as she tries to get you to properly enjoy the moment.  

Alexia points up to the sky in celebration, and you can hear her name being gradually chanted around the stands. It catches in your ear, echoing in a crescendoing drone. It’s deafening, unrelenting, and you try to shake it back out of your head before it really starts getting too much for you.  

You know that there’s going to be a fair few minutes of added time with how many fouls the second half has had and given how long Alexia was just down for especially, but you can see how the life’s just been completely zapped from the Chelsea side. They’re not equalising today; the game is done.   

The whistle blows for full time at 1-0 and you finally slump back down into your seat. The stadium is going absolutely wild around you, and you just close your eyes to it, waiting for it all to die down.  

You can hear your sister trying to pull you out of your head, but you press your palms against your eyelids, trying to block everything out. Your body’s racking itself. There’s a sharp shortness to your breath, an uneven rapidity to your heartbeat. Your head’s burning up, and your eyes are stinging.  

You’re not really cut out for this, are you? It’s all gotten a bit much. You really are spiralling, look at the state of you. All this, because of one unfortunate, mistimed tackle? Because there’s a few extra people here that know Alexia’s name?   

Barcelona just won, Alexia just scored the winning goal, and you’re collapsing in on yourself. 

What would you have been like if they had just lost? If Alexia had been genuinely hurt? Not much good, clearly. Not very helpful.  

Alexia deserves someone better. Someone who doesn’t go into a panic in the stands whenever she hits the deck. Someone who isn’t unnerved by her celebrity status. Maybe someone, who isn’t questioning her identity, at the ripe old age, of 26.  

She deserves someone, who very much, isn’t you. 

It takes a few minutes for you to come back around, pulling yourself from your oppressive thoughts, and you can see colourful stars in your eyes as you finally relieve the pressure you were forcing against them. Em offers you some water, and you down it while she stares at you, her brow wrinkled with worry.   

“Are you okay?”  

“Mhmm. I’m fine, sorry.”  

“You won!” She points out, with a cautious optimism, smiling at you as she chuckles softly. “You’re supposed to be celebrating, not ..whatever the hell this is.”  

“I’m really sorry, I just ..I don’t like people getting hurt.”  

“You wouldn’t have had to go to a hospital with her, it’s alright.”  

“Mm.”  

She gives you a hug, which lasts a suspiciously long time for her, and you can feel her jaw moving against your shoulder as she lifts her head slightly.  

“Are you okay?” You ask, frowning as you push her away from you.   

“Mhmm.” She mumbles, not moving her eyes away from whatever it is that she’s seen behind you. “Are you definitely fine?” She checks again, with a mild desperation to her voice.  

“..Yes?” You reassure her, turning around in your seat to try and follow her gaze.  

“I’ll see you in the morning, then!” She tells you hastily, and she nudges your arm, before tossing your sweatshirt from her bag at you, and straightening herself up.  

“Wait, what?” You question, rather baffled by her quick switch in focus. “Where are you going tonight?”  

Em just directs your vision up a few rows of seats, to a red-headed woman who has very clearly taken her fancy. They’ve been making googly-eyes at each other all match apparently. Since you wound your sister up earlier, with your unwavering new support for the enemy, and Chelsea have just crashed out of the Champions League again, she’s going home with her tonight, to drown her sorrows.   

She really does have an incredible success rate with the ladies, at least you won’t have to make breakfast for this one in the morning.  

 

“You’re off, just like that?” You ask.   

“We can hang out again tomorrow?”  

“Aw, I appreciate that, Em. Thanks!” 

She chuckles at you, bouncing on her toes. “Ring taxi-man.” She advises you with a wink. “Or try to find your mysterious hickey-man, again! You deserve to have fun tonight. Celebrate the win properly! Get yourself another love bite!”  

“Mm.” You mutter, and she crouches down in front of you again.  

“Are you sure you’re okay?” She asks. “I can stay with you, if you want?”  

“Hm? No, don’t be daft. It’s fine, really.  Thanks. Go, have fun.”  

She doesn’t hang around long enough for you to change your mind. She gives you a far quicker hug than the previous one, patting you on the head, before running off and introducing herself to her new friend at the steps. They both cast you a quick wave, which you return a little awkwardly, before they walk up towards the exit. Just as easy as that.  

“Be safe!” You call out to them behind you, as you turn your attention back to the celebrations on the pitch.  

It takes a long while for the atmosphere in the stadium to really start fizzling out, and there’s still a distinct little hum of excitement that rattles through it, as the crowd dwindles, and the players continue making their way around the grounds.   

Alexia grins up at you as she passes by your section, and you can only manage to give her a weak smile in return as you pat your leg at her with a questioning look. She smacks her knee a couple of times, smiling with a dramatic roll of her eyes, and she gives you a thumbs up to signal to you that she really is okay. She isn’t limping anymore as she heads over towards the fans, so you could almost pretend it hadn’t happened at all, if it hadn’t been quite so mentally draining.   

A fair amount of supporters still line the barriers, holding out shirts and signs, and just about anything else that they can get a player’s autograph scrawled onto. Most of them are shouting for Alexia’s attention, and her popularity and fame is still quite an overwhelming thing for you to take in.  

She doesn’t miss any of them, they all get their moment with her. She makes sure everyone gets seen too, everything gets signed. She doesn’t rush a single encounter, and you don’t miss the way people’s faces keep lighting up whenever she approaches them.  

It’s very hard not to keep falling for her, watching her interact with people, the way that she is with them. She’s just good. She’s good at what she does, she's good with her fans, she’s a good person.   

You’re biting at your thumb again.  

The knuckles on your other hand, turning white, with the vice-like grip that you have on her sweatshirt. Your legs are bobbing, and you can feel your fingers freezing up. There’s a lot of combatting emotions fighting for dominance in your head, and you’re very unsure of yourself.  

The Chelsea fans were in far less of a partying mood, clearly, as you find yourself the only one left in the away section. You watch Alexia converse with the ever-diminishing crowd for a moment longer, before deciding, maybe it’s time for you to go, too.  

This isn’t your world; you don’t belong in it. It’s been a fun time with her, and there’s definitely a something between you, that’s been nice to explore, but there’s clearly been some sort of mistake. A divine, serendipitous little mix-up. She can’t be the one for you, as you’re really not the right one for her. It’s okay for this to be it, it’s okay for you to go.  

You walk down to the barrier and carefully rest her sweatshirt over it. You can’t really also leave her football shirt behind with it, but she’s probably not desperate for that back. She’ll have loads of them lying about, there’s probably another one waiting in her training bag, ready for her to give to someone else.  

You pat at the sweatshirt a few times, debating with yourself, and you look back up across the pitch to where Alexia is still signing shirts. She almost certainly does deserve someone better than you but abandoning her is still quite a harsh thing for you to do, she definitely deserves better than that.  

You can’t just leave her and not give her a reason for it, that’s very cruel. She was excited to see you, she’ll be upset if you walk out on her.  

You crash your head down onto the sweatshirt trying to decide your next move, letting out a quiet groan as you draw a blank. She’s still preoccupied with her fans when you raise your head again, and you start pacing the length of the railing tapping the tips of your fingers together.  

You look back down at the sweatshirt, across to Alexia, and up to the exit. Down at the sweatshirt, across to Alexia, and up to the exit.  

Sweatshirt, Alexia, exit.  

Sweatshirt, Alexia, exit. 

Sweatshirt, Alexia, exit. Exit. Exit.  

You find yourself stuck on the steps, only a second later, facing away from the pitch, without her sweatshirt in your hands. You’re really not sure what your plan is. 

You do still have that number in your pocket, you could always give him a call, he really was very good-looking, exactly your usual type. Tall, dark, handsome. Friendly. Very friendly. It’s classic to you, it’s easy. Maybe your sister’s right. You need to have a meaningless night with some random company that you just don’t give a shit about.   

You really just don’t want to go out with him, though. There’s a woman on the other side of the pitch that your heart’s still lunging out in the direction of, who still puts butterflies in your stomach every time she so much as looks at you.  

You don’t want to leave. You like this woman too much. There’s something real between you. Something strong.  

Maybe it’s too strong.  

It’s impossibly strong.  

It’s a delusional level of strong.  

You’re almost at the final step before the exit, when you hear a little whistle from behind you and it stops you in your tracks. Maybe it was that little bungee cord between you both, that alerted her to your leaving.  

It sends another chill coursing up the back of your neck, and there’s an instant blurring to your vision, as your eyes start welling up. 

“Y/N?” She calls up to you, with a small strain to her voice, and you flinch, your gaze dropping to the floor. Your jaw clenches, and you freeze in place, closing your eyes, in the hopes of just disappearing from right there in front of her.  

You can still go, just keep walking. It would still be very hard for her to find you. She doesn’t have your surname, or your address, she doesn’t know your phone number. 

You can get a clean break.  

Leave it as a solo night of fun. The meaningless distraction from him, that it was always supposed to have been. Stop letting yourself fall for her. Stop letting yourself care and worry, about a woman that you barely know. Go home. Behave. Find yourself a man and get on with your regular life.  

There’s another cautious whistle as you debate with yourself, and your heart aches, hearing it echo around you. You shift your body weight, awkwardly, from your toes to your heels, and back again, a fair few times. You drum your fingers against your thighs, over your stomach, and you look up at the sky, searching for an answer.  

You need someone to give you a push, give you a sign that you’re not making another mistake. You want your sister to come back and slap some sense into you. You want your mother to tell you what to do, she always did have the right answers.  

You gently tap your fingers to your face, trying to pull yourself back into your body, as you study the stars above you.  

There seems to be a definite twinkle to one of them, and you really don’t care if you’re just seeing things. You’re looking for an excuse, any excuse, and a slight flicker in the sky, is exactly what you needed. 

You straighten yourself up, before letting out a long breath with a small nod. You bounce on your toes, and you give your eyes a quick rub, before you ever so slowly, turn yourself back around.   

You might still be an idiot. A whole damn blasted fool.  

But she’s impossible for you to walk away from. That’s just not how it’s going to work with her. She already means too much, you’re already in too deep. She’s set up shop inside of your head, she’s already living inside of your heart. You couldn’t walk away from her, even if you wanted to. 

She has your heart skipping beats, whenever she says your name. She has the rest of existence fading into nothingness around you, when all she’s done is take your hand in hers. She sends goosebumps down your neck when she whispers to you, has you rolling your eyes with a chuckle, when she’s being a playful windup. Your mind starts spinning when she kisses you, and you feel safe when you’re resting in her arms.  

You had one of the best afternoons of your life yesterday, doing nothing, but spend a bit more time with her. Learning about her, laughing with her, kissing her. She’s put a burning inside of you, and a smile on your face. You spent the whole of last night, wide awake, because you couldn’t wait to see her again. She told you that she couldn’t wait to see you, either.  

This isn’t a solo night of fun, it’s not a meaningless distraction. It never really has been with her. It might very well be your person, that’s waiting for you down there, and you’d only stand to lose everything, if you walk away from her now.  

You draw in a breath and look down to the sidelines of the pitch. It’s the greatest women’s footballer in the world, that’s leaning up against the stands for you, and she’s hoping, that you’re not about to leave her, not without at least saying goodbye to her first.    

She looks very small when you see her. All the grandeur, and spectacle that shrouded her during the game, has been completely wiped once again. She’s just Alexia, Ale, A. She’s just a woman that you met in a nightclub, just a girl that you’ve been getting to know.  

There’s a very obvious sense of worry in her, it’s not a look that often spreads across her face. She shuffles herself, tapping her hands gently on the sweatshirt over the barrier as she tilts her head down towards the ground, and you steadily make your way back down the steps towards her.  

“Felicitats.” You offer weakly, and she smiles softly up at you.  

“Gràcies.”  

“Is your knee okay?” 

“Yes.”   

“Are you sure?”  

“Yes. I promise.”   

“It wasn’t a very friendly challenge.” You tell her, frowning at the tunnel that the Chelsea player made her escape from you down. “You gave me a fright, when you didn’t bounce straight back up. Are you definitely okay?”  

“Yes, I’m fine!” She insists. “Look!” She tells you, patting her knee a few more times, and kicking her leg out to show you that it hasn’t fallen off. You can’t not smile back at her when she’s being so very cute, even if she is incredibly stupid. “I promise you, it’s fine.” She repeats, and you just have to believe her.  

“You didn’t fancy telling me your big secret, yourself?” You call out, as you continue making your way towards the pitch, glancing around the stadium, before sliding your hands into your back pockets.   

“It didn’t feel ..that important,” is the excuse she gives to you, as she picks at the fabric in her hands, “the night that we first met.”  

“And yesterday?” You push, crinkling your brow up slightly. “Still not that important?”  

Her gaze drops to the ground as you wait on the bottom step, and you nibble at the inside of your mouth. “Are you angry with me?” She asks nervously, quietly tapping her hands with a bit more agitation, and not yet meeting your eyes.  

There’s a painful twinge in your heart as you watch her unfamiliar mannerisms, you much prefer when she’s being insufferably cocky and annoying. It’s far less painful, a lot more fun.  

You let out a breath, before closing the rest of the distance between you both, and you gently rest your hands on top of hers, to stop her little nervous drum solo. She still doesn’t lift her head to face you, and you take in a shaky breath, readying yourself.  

“Do I seem angry?” You ask her quietly, trying to encourage her to look at you, as you delicately draw shapes on the backs of her hands, to distract you both a little from the obvious tension.  

You don’t miss the goosebumps that quickly form up Alexia’s arms as you do, and there’s a feeling that jolts inside of you, knowing that you both have the exact same effect on each other, even with the most casual of touches.  

She lifts her eyes to study your face, and she shakes her head, as you smile softy back at her.  

“Well, there you go then!” You tell her with a light chuckle, placing a kiss to her forehead before resting yourself against the railing between you both, and she lets out a wobbly breath. “Of course I’m not angry with you ..I did feel a bit stupid last night, that I really didn’t know.” You explain. “..I feel a bit intimidated, now that I do.”  

“I’m still just me.” She reminds you quickly, and you can see the shimmer in her eyes, as she tries to keep herself from cracking.   

You can’t help narrowing your eyes at her little claim as she collapses her head down into you, nestling it in the crook of your neck. “They call you the bloody queen, Alexia.” You remind her, and she shakes her head against you.  

“I hate that title.” She confesses. “I promise you, I’m still just me.” 

 

It’s hard to deny her that. When all of the noise has died out, and it’s only the two of you left. She is just her, she’s just another woman. A woman who is very clearly worrying about you and your reaction to her career. She knows that she stands to lose you because of it, and it’s very obvious, as her tears pool on your skin, that that isn’t something she wants to happen.   

Despite it still being ridiculously early days between you both, this connection that you feel so strongly, may very well be reciprocated by her, and it would be a shame, for a bit of football, to stand in the way of it.  

It’s terrifying, knowing that she can get hurt. Realising that everything she’s worked so hard her whole life for, rests on a knife’s edge, every time she steps foot onto the pitch. It isn’t easy, being made aware of how common of an injury it is, and how there’s no way of protecting her from it.   

If she’s going to get injured again, that’s just a harsh reality of football, and that’s a very difficult pill for you to swallow. It’s not a risk that you can stop her from taking, either. This is her dream, and you’d just have to support her through it. The good, and the bad.  

It’s also a little disconcerting, knowing how adored she is. The fact that she’s quite a bit famous, especially in this city, if nothing else. As much as you don’t want to let it seep into your mind, and affect your thoughts about Alexia too deeply, it’s impossible for it not to have altered things for you slightly.  

You’re only human, and you weren’t really fully prepped, on what her celebrity actually entailed. She was just another regular person to you yesterday, but in reality, she is clearly very far from that, and it’s a little unfair that she wasn’t the one to break the news to you. To give you some sort of heads up, before throwing you in at the deep end today.  

But ..you really were having fun, before it all went south. You were excited, you were proud, you were enjoying a football match. She does things to you. She brings out a side of yourself that you’ve never explored before, a side that’s laid dormant, for your entire life. She’s incredible, in ways that largely transcend her achievements on the pitch.   

Alexia’s never made you doubt yourself. She’s never given you any reason to question her interest in you, that’s one thing that she’s never been secretive about.  

She doesn’t know what you do for a living, but she probably correctly assumes that you’re not famous, and that hasn’t put her off at all. She doesn’t think she’s too good for you, she hasn’t treated you like you’re beneath her.  

Her fame doesn’t follow her everywhere, you were able to be completely oblivious to it, before your sister told you about it. It’s not debilitating, it doesn’t stop you from having moments together. It’s something you might have to get used to. Find a way of understanding it, learn how to cope with it. Especially on match days, when you really can’t ignore the actual magnitude of it. That wouldn’t be impossible for you to do.

  

There’s a connection between you both, it doesn’t matter how celebrated she is. You haven’t just shared a few careless kisses; it wasn’t just one night of meaningless sex. There’s something real between you both, and it already existed before you knew who she was. This madness that surrounds her, was always the reality; you were just unaware of it.  

There was a spark, regardless. You’d have the same connection with her if she was filling shelves in a supermarket, why should this be any different?  

She wasn’t put off by your lack of interest in football. She really wanted you here today. She gave you her shirt to wear. She told you she hoped you’d enjoy the game. There were tens of thousands of people in attendance this evening, and she searched for you, specifically.   

She deliberately put you in a contrasting shirt, so that she’d easily be able to find you, so that she’d definitely know that you came, and that you were here, watching her. That’s all she wanted. She just wanted you to see her play, and for you to have fun while doing it. She wanted you here, cheering her on. The best player in the world, and she's been choosing you. A little nobody from London.  

You’re allowed to be excited about that. You’re allowed to stop questioning her and second-guessing yourself. You don’t need to pay attention to the noise around you, the excited obsession with her from strangers, those distracting little seeds of doubt that he’s put into your head about yourself.  

There’s just her. There’s just Alexia, and she wanted you here.  

“Well ..just you,” you start softly, placing a kiss to the side of her head, “is a bloody lot more impressive than most people ..you were incredible out there.” You whisper shakily, and you can feel as she smiles against you, burying her head further into your neck.  

“You enjoyed it?” She breathes, and you can see a small bit of the weight that she’s bearing, lifting from her shoulders.   

“Until that moment. Yeah, I really did!” You tell her, smiling in mild disbelief at yourself. “I was worried, that I might have to pretend for you, but I just ..really loved watching you play, seeing you score!”  

“Were you quietly cheering?” She asks, pulling herself back from you, to excitedly take you in.   

“There was nothing quiet about it!” You admit with a grin, as you wipe away the streaks of tears on Alexia’s cheeks with the backs of your fingers. “You scored the winner!”  

The biggest smile spreads over her face at your bold act of tiny rebellion, and she pinches at the fabric of your shirt, gliding her fingers down the front of it, as she gives it a quick examination. “You were lucky they didn’t throw tomatoes at you, then!” 

“Mhmm! I did get a few words thrown at me, mind! There’s some horrible people about.” You tell her, as she continues holding onto your shirt. Her eyes meet yours and it’s a pair of nervous smiles that you exchange with each other. “I know it won’t mean much, coming from me. I’ve not watched a lot of football, and I know you have some pretty big awards for it, but ..you’re really bloody good! I’m so proud of you.”  

“It means everything.” She tells you ardently, pulling you into her over the railing. “I’m so glad you enjoyed it!”  

You let yourself get lost in her embrace for a moment, while she clings to the back of your shirt, and you can hear as her breath hitches when you place a quick kiss to her neck.  

“I really didn’t enjoy watching you get taken down, mind.” You reiterate, quietly.   

“No? I didn’t love that either, really.” She admits, chuckling to herself.  

“But you’re definitely okay?” You check again, pulling away from her to look properly at her leg.   

“Yes. I promise you. It’s fine, I’m fine. It just happens sometimes.” She shrugs.  

“Please don’t tell me that!” You beg, quickly shaking your head at her. “You can’t be putting me through that every match!”  

“Mm? You’ll be watching more games?” She asks, with that famous little smirk coming back into view as you nod your head at her.   

“I mean, it’s a bitch of a commute to do this weekly, but I’ll definitely be watching you on the telly, when I can’t make it.”  

“Wow.” She says, linking her arms together behind your neck. “You really did enjoy it.”  

“I know ..you’ve broken me!” You chuckle, as she rests her forehead to yours, and her lips are once again, the only thing you can focus on. You watch as she wets them in front of you, and it almost feels like she’s taunting you a little bit. “Are we allowed to kiss here?” You ask, trying to disguise your desperation, as you pull yourself away to scan the stadium.  

There’s only a few random stragglers making their exits up the steps, and none of them seem to be paying any attention to the pair of you at all. So, it might not be beyond the realms of possibility.  

Alexia takes your face in her hands and tilts your head. “Yes.” She tells you, simply, and she pulls you into her, capturing your lips with hers. She doesn’t do her own check of your surroundings at all; she really isn’t too fussed if anyone’s watching you both this time.  

It’s quite the romantic place to have a kiss, honestly. A huge colosseum, that’s almost entirely empty, a blanket of stars in the sky up above you. It’s not a kiss with any caution. It’s not hasty or secretive. It’s familiar, safe, and it’s able to finally be unreserved.   

It’s a kiss that the pair of you have been craving. One that doesn’t taste of tequila, that doesn’t have to be hidden from view, and one that doesn’t have the looming dread of immediate departure attached to it. It’s a slow deep kiss, that feels like home, and you’re quite content to drown yourself in it.  

“Where’s Em?” Alexia asks, and she really has ruined the moment.   

She seems unaware, as her lips are still moving against yours, but you freeze, breaking the kiss at her twisted choice of topic.  

“Woww?” You drag out, pulling back from her with a frown. “Mentioning my sister is a real mood-killer I do hope you realise!”  

“I’m sorry!” She giggles, trapping her bottom lip between her teeth.   

“You’re supposed to have come over here for me, not her!”  

“I did come over for you!” She tells you, rolling her eyes at your dramatics. “I just meant ..you’re here on your own.”  

“Mm. She left me.”  

“Why?”  

“She met a girl, while we were watching you play,” you explain, “they’ve gone back to hers already.”  

“Oh?” She questions, her eyes sparkling as she arches an eyebrow at you. “To play cards?”  

“Yeah,” you chuckle, “I think so.”  

She links her arms back over your shoulders, leaning in very close. “So ..you’re without company tonight?” She checks, her lips ghosting yours, and your heart starts racing again at the suggestive tone to her voice.   

“Mhmm. That’s quite sad, isn’t it? When I’m on holiday?”  

“That’s very sad.” She agrees, tracing your jawline with her index finger.  

It’s hard not to have a physical reaction to the way that she’s always touching you, and you swallow down as she angles your face to draw her mouth even closer to you, your breath catching in your throat as her lips brush against yours.  

“Are you short on company tonight?” You whisper, rather shakily.  

“Mhmm.”  

“Oof. That might be even sadder.” You point out, and she nods in agreement with a small pout, before finally succumbing to another long kiss.  

You breakaway, entirely short on breath, and she smiles as the obvious effect she’s just had on you as you try to come to your senses. “Do you ..not want to celebrate with your teammates?”  

“Not really.” She tells you, her pupils dilating as her eyes roam over your body.  

“Would you ..maybe, want to do something with me, then?” 

“Are you asking me on a date?” She asks, her cocky little smile curving her lips, and you chuckle despite yourself.   

“I really think I might be. You admit. “I don’t know what you’ve done to me!” You tell her, shaking your head with a smile. “I’d never looked at another woman before, never cared about a football result. Never asked someone out on a date.”  

“Mm? And now look at you.” She says, cradling your face as she searches your eyes. “Does it scare you?” She asks, stroking her thumb over your cheek, and you pause for a beat in consideration.  

“A little,” you confess, “but never when I’m with you.”  

Your candour earns you another kiss. Whether she’s fully aware of the power her lips have on calming your nerves, or she just fancied kissing you, you don’t really know, and you don’t really care. You welcome it the same way you’ve welcomed every other kiss from her, and the same way you’ll continue to welcome any future kisses from her, should you be so lucky.  

“Were you going to leave me?” Alexia asks after a moment, tapping at the sweatshirt again with a horrible look of uncertainty in her eyes.  

“I really don’t know.” You tell her honestly, and worry creases her brow, as you let out a breath. “I don’t think I’d have got very far,” you admit, “but it’s just ..been a lot to take in.”  

There’s a familiar look of understanding from her. It’s the exact same look she had given you when you’d stayed still in the hotel elevator, as she had made her exit. It’s a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes, that barely curves her lips. It’s a look of acceptance, resignation, and it’s a heartbreaking sight to see.   

“I don’t want to leave you.” You clarify. “I don’t really know ..what this is, between us, but I know how I feel about you, and I don’t want to run from it. I just know ..that you can probably do better.”  

You bop your own hand gently on the barrier in a fist, and she narrows her eyes at you. “What do you mean by that?” She asks, and you nibble at the inside of your mouth.   

“I freaked out ..when you went down. It got to me outside, seeing your name everywhere. I couldn’t ..really tell you what my sexuality is, at this point.” You take a breath, still knocking your fist awkwardly on the railing. “There’ll be so many other women, more sure of themselves, more ..prepared, and ready to embrace everything.” You explain, closing your eyes to stop them from stinging. “They won’t need to study your team before you play, they won’t go into a panic every time another player gets a little too close to you. They’ll be just as desperate to be with you, and they’ll be bett—”  

You’re cut off from your little ramble, with what you’re assuming was a kiss.  

Your eyes are closed, and it was unbelievably quick. You’d be forgiven for thinking you’d imagined it completely; it was really quite so fleeting. If the fireworks that Alexia’s set off on your lips weren’t quite so familiar to you, you might have thought it was a bee that had stung you. She’s really gone and left you all lightheaded with little more than a peck.  

“You kissed me!” You tell her breathlessly, as though she wasn’t the one to do it to you.  

“Mhmm. Imagine that.” She says, as she lets her eyes roam over your face with a small smile. “You studied the team?”  

“I know, I’m sorry.” You cringe. “I just didn’t want to not know who you played with. I mean, I didn’t even know who you were yesterday, what chance would I have had with any—”  

She kisses you again, the exact same way, leaving you with the exact same reaction.  

“You kissed me!” You repeat, and she chuckles at you, nodding her head.  

“Mhmm. You’re on vacation,” she reminds you, “and you spent the day studying my team?”  

“Mm.”  

“And you worried about me getting hurt?” 

“Mm.” 

“And you’re so desperately into me, that I’ve got you questioning your sexuality?” She winks.  

“I mean..” you chuckle softly, rolling your eyes, “..maybe.” 

“And you really think, that any of that ..would make me like you less?” She asks, narrowing her eyes with that familiar smirk.  

“Well ..sort of.” You admit. “I mean ..the studying. Most people wouldn’t need to do that.”  

“You didn’t need to do that.” She points out.  

“Mm ..no, I really think I did.” You chuckle. “I didn’t know anything about football this morning, you can ask Em.” 

“You don’t care about football.” She reminds you. 

“Maybe not ..but I care a little bit about you. I just knew it was important to you, I didn’t want to be completely clueless about it.” 

Alexia shakes her head at you lightly, before kissing you again. It’s not so quick this time, so you don’t need to be as embarrassed about her still leaving you lightheaded and short on breath.  

“You kissed me!” You repeat, a childish grin taking over your face, and she rests her forehead to your shoulder, chuckling at your excited little reaction. “So, you do still like me the same?” You double-check and she lifts her gaze to meet your eyes.  

She cradles your head in her hand, shaking her own lightly back at you as she rubs her thumb over your cheek. “I think I might like you even more.” She tells you. “I wasn’t really sure that would be possible after yesterday.”  

“Really?” 

“Mhmm.”  

“Well ..what else are you into? I can study anything.”  

She giggles at your eagerness before kissing you again. “I’m very into you.” She says, and your eyes light up in front of her.  

“That’s so unbelievably lucky, I know almost everything about her already!”  

“Yeah? Then maybe we’re perfect for each other.” She tells you, with a distinct conviction in her voice that sends that special little thrill running right through your body as she pulls you in for another kiss. 

 

“So ..is that a ‘yes’?” You ask. “To maybe going on a date with me? It’s a bit late now, I know, but we still have tomorrow.” You suggest, beginning to stumble over your words. “I know it’s probably not the smoothest way you’ve ever been asked out. I’m new to this. I’m not very good, but I’ll work on it. I’ll get better.” 

“I think you’re already better than you think you are.” She tells you softly, resting her forehead to yours. “I’d love to go on a date with you.” 

“Even though my head’s a mess and I’m still figuring things out?” 

“Mhmm.” She giggles, gently rolling her bottom lip under her teeth. “I’ll help you figure things out. We’ll work it all out together.” She offers.  

“That could be a lot of work.” 

“I know, and I really think you might be worth it.” She tells you, giving you another gentle kiss. “I’m sorry all of this got to you. I should have told you about it yesterday, but ..I didn’t want to scare you off.” She explains. “I know it can be a lot, I don’t love every part of it..” 

“It’s okay, I don’t think anything could’ve prepared me for it, really. I knew you’d have a lot of fans ..it was just seeing them all. Like this ..Alexia army.” 

“I’m so sorry.” 

“Please don’t be. You have nothing to apologise for.” You reassure her. “Not unless all those other buggers also got their shirts from you?” 

“No,” she chuckles, running her fingers up the front of the fabric on your body, “you’re the only one.” 

“I should probably feel quite special, then.” You wink. “People would kill to be wearing this.” 

“Mhmm. You are special.” She tells you, her fingers trailing the neckline of your shirt. She pulls you back into her, her lips feathering yours. “You’re in my top three for a reason.” 

The barrier’s proving to be a little bit of a pest to the pair of you, what with it being such a hindrance to all of your kissing. After receiving confirmation from Alexia, that no one would attack you for joining her on the grass, you throw her sweatshirt on over your head, and quickly negotiate the railing to be with her. 

It might be your favourite place to be, just melting into her arms as she holds you against her. Even though she’s still a little bit gross from running around for so long, you wouldn’t really swap it for anything.  

Your eyes flick around the stadium as you look over her shoulder. There’s a faded majesty to the arena when it’s empty like this. You’re the only ones still out here and the beauty of the place isn’t lost on you, as you get to share it with Alexia. It feels more special without thousands of other strangers crammed in here with you, it’s like a secret discovery you’ve both stumbled upon. A vast abandoned colosseum, existing just for you two.  

“Does it not freak you out, playing in a place like this?” You ask her. 

“Not really.” She tells you, rather casually, joining you in staring up at the stands.  

“There’s so many eyes watching you.” 

“Mm. You sort of just block it all out.” She says. “You can hear everything, all the chanting and singing, but you don’t really pay too much attention to it. Not until you score, and then again at the end of the game. It isn’t really scary at that point, though. Then it’s just thousands of other people celebrating with you.” 

“You’re quite amazing,” you realise, gently nudging into her, “I think I’d shit myself.” 

She giggles at your blunt confession, intertwining her hand with yours. “I’d probably freak out if I did that in front of everyone.” She admits, kissing your fingers. “That’d be quite hard to live down.” 

“Do you not get nervous at all?” 

“No.” She tells you, simply. “I’ve worked hard for this. I trust myself; I trust the team. Us playing in stadiums like this, in front of crowds like that, it’s what we deserve. It’s what we’ve been doing it all for.” She drops her head momentarily, taking in a breath. “I wasn’t too sure I’d get the chance to play again at all, after..” she gestures loosely down to her leg and stands a little taller as her grip on your hand tightens, “I don’t take it for granted, that I’m able to be here. It’s where I’ve always wanted to be. I’m not going to waste time being scared of it.” 

There’s a different air of confidence to her on the pitch as you watch her. It’s not the same playful cockiness that she so often uses with you. It’s not arrogance, she isn’t being smug. She’s just proud of herself, the journey that she’s been on. She’s proud of where she is, she’s proud of her teammates and she really has every bloody right to be.  

“Are you okay?” She asks, her brow crinkling lightly as she looks to you. “You’re staring.” 

“Sorry. You’re just ..very beautiful.” You shrug, and you can see a small flush of colour settle over her cheeks as she smiles before quickly averting her eyes.  

“You haven’t told me what it is that you do for a living.” She reminds you, shirking the focus away from her as she walks backwards a little ahead of you, pulling you along with her. “We had an agreement.” She reminds you.  

“I think it’s far less exciting than your big reveal.” You warn her. “I’m just in finance ..banking.”  

You offer it with a tone of apology to your voice, which she certainly picks up on as she smiles at you and takes your other hand in hers. “That’s very impressive.” She assures you and a blush spreads across your own cheeks as she interlaces her fingers with yours. “You’re quite clever?”  

“I’m not too bad with numbers.” You chuckle.  

“Do you enjoy it?” She asks, and you nod your head.  

“That must seem ridiculous to you.” 

“Not at all. Are you good at it?” 

“Oof ..I’m not awful.” You smile. “I’ve actually been named ‘Employee of the Year’ on more than two separate occasions.” 

“Have you really?” She giggles.  

“Mhmm. That’s the same as those balloon awards of yours, right?” 

“Mhmm. Yes. Yeah ..I think that’s the exact same thing.” 

She really must like you if she’s willing to lie like that. There is slight tone of sarcasm to her voice, and rightly so. Your sister’s explained to you what a Ballon d’Or is, and Alexia being presented with it, for two years on the trot, is no mean feat. She’s been recognised for being the undisputed best at her profession, globally. You’ve received ‘Employee of the Year’ bonuses because your boss is a filthy pervert with a crush on you. These are not the same things at all.  

It’s very sweet of her to downplay her achievements for you and there’s something about her lack of arrogance with her career that’s very intriguing. She almost minimises her own importance, ignores the significance, and the impact that she’s had on the sport. It’s really just a regular job to her. She’s ‘just’ a footballer.  

She takes genuine pride in it, but she’s not gloating at all, she’s not bragging. Without her fans around her, you really wouldn’t know how big of a sensation she actually is. The fame and accolades really aren’t what she’s done any of this for. She just loves playing the game.  

“You’re staring again.” She points out, kissing your forehead.  

“You’re ..still very beautiful.” You tell her, offering up another shrug in lieu of any better explanation for your continual admiration of her.  

She places a kiss to the back of your hand, and her eyes twinkle over it as she meets your gaze. “We should get out of here.” She tells you. “I need to have a shower, but then we can go.” 

“Do you want me to wait here?” You offer, and she frowns at you in confusion. “So that you don’t have to introduce me to anyone.” You explain, and she giggles, shaking her head.  

“A few of them would probably recognise you.” She says, and a hot flush of embarrassment spreads right through your body.   

“Shit! For being drunk and angry?” 

“Mhmm! And straight.” She reminds you with a wink. “I think they quite like you, don’t worry. Mapi’s definitely a fan already.” 

A small groan falls from your mouth as you remember your rather unfortunate behaviour from that night, and it’s hard not cringe at yourself. It’s amazing you made such a good impression on Alexia, all things considered, but it’s a bit embarrassing to realise there was more than one world-class footballer watching your drunken antics.  

“I’ll have to stay out here.” You grimace. “That’s horrific!” 

“They’re probably already gone!” She giggles. “We’ve been out here for a while.” She places another kiss to your forehead, before walking backwards towards the tunnel holding her hand out for you to join her. “Are you coming?” 

You nod your head at her but make no real effort to move from where you are. “I never thanked you.” You call out to her, and she stills herself, tilting her head.  

“For what?” She chuckles, narrowing her eyes.  

“For saving me that night. From that old man ..I really don’t know where I’d be now if you hadn’t.” 

A grin splits her face, and she doesn’t miss a beat. “Therapy, probably!” She says, and her laugh echoes in the air around you.  

You quickly pull her sweatshirt back up to hide your face under it, shaking your head in shame, because she’s almost certainly right. It would have taken you a very long time to recover from waking up next to him the following morning. You definitely wouldn’t have been going for seconds, thirds and fourths with him all night. He’d have had a heart attack trying to compete with Alexia’s stamina.  

“He was so gross.” She reminds you, pulling the sweatshirt down as she returns to you. “You were very drunk.” 

She pushes the loose hairs back from over your face, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips as she cups your face.  

“I don’t remember you helping me with that.” You point out. “I had more drinks with you than anyone else.” 

“Mm ..I quite liked being inappropriate with you. You were very daring,” she recollects, kissing you again, with her cocky little smile, “you’d already licked most of me before we even left the club!” 

“You started it!” You remind her, and she giggles in front of you.  

“Well, if that was a competition we were having, I think you certainly won!” She admits. “I’m sure abuelo would have enjoyed drinking with you just as much.” 

“Oof. Please don’t.” You mutter, suppressing a gag. “I think I’d have slapped him if he’d tried licking me.” 

Alexia laughs again, lifting your hand to her lips, to place a kiss to the back of it, and she winks at you, before she licks all down it with her tongue.   

“You’re such a child!” You giggle, wiping your hand against your shirt, and she winks at you again. “You could’ve been here with that girl from the toilets.” You point out. “At least she was very pretty.” 

“I know.” She sighs wistfully. “It’s a shame someone stole me from her.” 

“Mmm ..okay.” You mutter, rolling your eyes.  

She shakes her head with a small smirk, taking your hand and pulling you into her before wrapping her arms around your waist. “I’m glad I’m here with you.” She tells you, lightly bumping her nose to yours. “Bit scary of you, though. Following me all the way out here!” 

“I didn’t follow you!” You tell her, removing yourself from her hold. “I barely even remembered you existed before you draped your arm over me in that café.” 

“You’re a terrible liar.” She scoffs. “You even followed us into that toilet.” 

“No, I didn’t!” You chuckle, crossing your arms in front of you as you smile up at her. “You followed me, though. Couldn’t keep you away!” 

“Mm ..maybe I really should’ve stayed with her instead.” 

“Okaay, that’s enough of that. She’s gone now, you missed your chance with her!" 

“Are you still jealous?” She winks, running her hands down your sides before slinking them back around your waist.  

“I wasn’t jealous. She was just ..all over you. In the toilet, of all places! It was very gross of you both, very unsanitary.” 

“Is that why you wanted to interrupt us?” She smirks, tilting her head very close to yours. “Bumped into me to stop me from catching germs? You’re very cute.” 

“That was an accident.” 

“You’re a terrible liar!” She laughs.  

“You were winding me up! Kissing someone else, what were you playing at?” 

“You went to go kiss men!” She points out.  

“I didn’t kiss any of them, though.” 

“It’s not my fault you were unsuccessful!” 

“I wasn’t unsuccessful!” You giggle, pushing her away from you. “I didn’t want to kiss any of them. I had one person on my mind that night, and I was actually very successful in getting her to kiss me ..eventually.” 

“I was on your mind?” She asks, bouncing her eyebrows as she rests her hands on your hips.  

“You’re so annoying, always so cocky.” You roll your eyes, linking your hands behind her neck before pulling her down to kiss you. “Yes. You were on my mind.” You admit, collapsing your head to her chest. “You’re always on my mind. You’re like a bloody broken record in here.” 

She kisses the top of your head, wrapping her arms around your shoulders. “You’re always on my mind too.” She whispers. “I don’t think I’ve really stopped thinking about you at all since I first saw you in that club.” 

“When you shoved that bloody lime in my face?” You mumble against her.  

“I didn’t shove a lime in your face!” She laughs. “I held it for you, I was being helpful.” 

“Mm ..well, then I owe you two lots of thanks.” You realise, lifting your head to meet her eyes. “One for your ..handy little lime assistance, and one for saving me from that ancient creeper. I am genuinely grateful for the second one.” 

“You don’t need to thank me for either of them.” She tells you. “I was being selfish really.” 

It’s difficult to know just how much time you both managed to kill outside, but the dressing room’s completely empty by the time you two make your way through to it. You sit, patting your hands against your thighs, as Alexia goes for her shower, and you try to keep yourself entertained without her.  

There’s a lot of things for you to look at in the room, lots to take in. There’s a history to the stadium, which should be interesting to have a backstage pass to. It’s a privilege, being in here. Legends have roamed these halls, sporting greats from decades past. It’s very exciting for you to be granted access to it, and yet, none of it’s at all fascinating to you when you know there’s a wet, naked lady in the other room.  

You continue drumming out your frustrations as you try to stop yourself from thinking of Alexia in the shower.  

All on her own. In the shower.   

Alone.  

Showering.  

You really just can’t help yourself.  

She doesn’t take too long to return to you and a loud gasp falls from your lips when she re-emerges.  

“¿Qué?” She winks, and the blush doesn’t even have the courtesy of creeping up on you, you’re just immediately bright red.  

“You’re naked.” You inform her, very quietly, in case she hadn’t already realised. 

“Mhmm.” 

“Wow..” You breathe, gritting your teeth as you try to remain calm.

“Oh? That’s so funny. I seem to remember that being the exact same reaction to the one you had last time!” 

“Heh heh heh!” You draw out slowly, rolling your eyes at her unremitting need to be cocky.  

She leans against the wall in front of you, and it really isn’t very easy to maintain eye contact with her when her body’s on full display in front of you. It doesn’t feel like she’s particularly bothered about your wandering eyes, which is really rather lucky, because you’re not exactly doing it with any level of subtlety.  

This isn’t really helping in keeping all of the dirty thoughts that you’ve been having about her at bay. You’re also going to split your lip open if you keep biting down on it as hard as you are. 

She moves towards you steadily, and your heart starts beating in double time. “You’re staring.” She tells you, yet again, and you nod at her very astute observation skills.  

“You ..are ridiculously beautiful.” You point out, struggling to keep your composure as she steps within reaching distance. “You’re also very dry.” You realise with a frown, trapping your hands under your legs. “You’re supposed to be having a shower so that we can get the hell out of here!” 

“Mm.” She hums, hooking a finger under your chin and tilting your head up to face her. “I was wondering if you might want to keep me company?” She says, and you have to gasp again at her very friendly little suggestion.  

“In the shower with you? While you’re naked?” You grin, and she chuckles, nodding her head.  

“Mhmm. I was hoping you might want to get naked too.” 

“Oof. What an incredibly tempting offer.” You admit, bobbing your legs as you wet your lips. “I just need a few minutes to really think about it.” 

“Mm?” She shakes her head and folds her arms. “You have two seconds before I’m revoking.” 

“Two seconds? Do you see what I mean about you being cocky and annoying? You think I fancy you that badly? That I’m that desperate and needy that I’ll just cave as soon as you—” 

“Uno.” 

“I’m in!” You exclaim, jumping to your feet with embarrassing haste. “I’m in I’m in I’m in I’m in I’m in!” You continue mumbling against her lips to make sure that she doesn’t start her unnecessary counting again.  

You make very light work of pulling both layers off over your head in one swift motion, and Alexia looks rather impressed with your efficiency as she drags her thumb down the middle of your torso. She bites her lip with her eyebrow arching slightly, as she takes you in, and you do feel a little bit proud of yourself.  

“I’ve been going to the gym a lot.” You tell her, tensing slightly to show off your progress.  

“I can tell.” She says, running her thumb back up your stomach.  

“Really?” You grin, trying to ignore the goosebumps that have spread over your skin from her touch. “I slept with this girl whose body made me drool.” You admit, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “Felt like I was letting the side down a bit, so.” 

“I think you’re beautiful naked.” She tells you, and your heart skips a beat as her eyes darken over you.  

“That’s very crazy! That’s the same thing that she kept saying!” 

“Mm?” She loops a finger through your belt buckle, drawing you in closer to her.  

“It does turn out that she’s a professional athlete, though. So, I might have to just settle for being second best.” 

She chuckles at you, shaking her head. “All this ..is for her benefit?” She asks, leaning into you.  

“Mm. Well ..I wasn’t really sure I’d ever find her again,” you admit, letting out a very cautious exhale, “..but no one else has seen me..”

 

It’s a pointed confession from you, carrying a lot of added weight to it. Neither of you owe each other any loyalty from that night and you’d have no real right to be hurt, if she has explored other options. It’s not a test from you, you know it wouldn’t really change things, you did give it a try yourself, to be with someone else.  

It didn’t feel right to you, when it wasn’t with her, you could barely even flirt with another person, but you can’t really have any negative reaction, if Alexia hasn’t had that same struggle. There’s a morbid curiosity in you, perhaps, given the direction your previous relationship went in, and you can only hope, that she will treat your heart more gently than he did.  

She doesn’t know, that you were cheated on, she wouldn’t know, what her own admission would mean to you. You’re offering yourself up unprotected, to a woman who isn’t aware of the bomb she could be setting off inside your chest. It’s a silent plea from you, that this really has been as all-consuming to her, as it has been to you, and it’s very a big ask of someone, who you’ve only met thrice.  

Her eyes pierce through to your soul, as she studies you, and it’s excruciating, waiting for her to give you something. There’s a clear caution in her, of what she’s about to tell you, and you’re not certain if it’s guilt, or sympathy, or something else entirely.  

“Really?” She asks, and her voice is hoarse, as her eyes narrow at you. You can’t trust yourself with words right now, so you only offer her a silent nod, and there’s a glimmer in her eyes at your promise. She’s tentative, and nervous, and the mystery that once shielded her eyes when you first looked into them, is slowly dissolving in front of you. It isn’t guilt or sympathy that she’s feeling, she’s scared of letting you in.  

It’s not unreasonable for her to have her own concerns, regarding you. You were incredibly pig-headed, about being straight, the night that you first met. You told her your relationship had ended only recently, and then you jumped straight into bed with her.  

She can be certain that you’re attracted to her, you haven’t hidden that very well, but she has no real reason to assume that she isn’t a rebound, or a little sexuality test for you. You’re not the only one putting yourself in a vulnerable position here, she also stands to get hurt from this.  

There’s the slightest hint of a smile on her face, as she accepts that you’re telling her the truth. The subtle confession, that the girl who was so relentlessly hunting for some random male company the night that Alexia first met her, hasn’t been on that same hunt since, clearly means as much to her, as a similar confession would mean to you.  

“I haven’t been with anyone else either.” She tells you, and it breathes life back into your lungs.  

You catch her entirely off guard as you press your lips against hers, but she’s very quick to catch up with you. There’s a distinct desperation in the kiss this time, a fervent hunger. An intense desire to make known how much she means to you, to show her that the small question mark that you have over your sexuality, doesn’t extend to any questions about her. You’re in no doubt of your feelings, you’re very certain of what you want.  

Actions speak louder than words, clearly, and you’re definitely not leaving anything up to speculation. The passion in you continues to build and it’s Alexia who’s left breathless, when you finally pull away. You’ve rendered her speechless, and she blinks hard a few times as she lifts her fingers to her lips, before collecting herself again.  

You’re sporting her smirk as she looks back at you, and she rolls her eyes with a shy smile. “Are you getting naked, or what?” She asks impatiently, and a laugh rings out from inside of you.  

“Oof. I love when you’re romantic with me, baby.” 

This might actually be your favourite place to be. Not the random shower stalls, they’re not particularly important to the rush that’s shooting through you. It’s entirely down to the wet and naked company that you have in here.  

Reacquainting yourself with the curves and the ridges of her body, having her pressed up against you as her hands explore yours. It’s exciting just being back with her, your body’s on fire under her touch, your soul’s been reawakened, and none of the scenarios you kept playing through in your head, could ever really compare to having the real thing in front of you again.  

“Is your leg still sore?” You ask, placing kisses along Alexia’s jawline as she leans her back against the tiles.  

“I’ve already told you, that it’s fi—“ 

“Because I was thinking,” you interrupt, cutting her off with a kiss to her lips, “we should probably take some precautions.” You suggest, and her eyes narrow as she smiles slyly at you. “We wouldn’t want to aggravate it..” 

“Mm.” She nods, trapping her tongue between her teeth. “Are you offering to get down on your knees for me?” She asks you knowingly, tangling her fingers in your hair.  

“Mhmm ..for the good of the team.” You offer, feigning herosim as you kiss along her chest. “For football.” 

“Mm ..well, I did score the winning goal.” She reminds you.  

“Well, exactly, and that deserves to be celebrated.” 

She chuckles, as she pulls you back into her by your neck, catching you a little off guard as her tongue re-enters your mouth. “I really have missed you.” She murmurs against your lips.  

“Mm but like ..as a person,” you check, pulling back slightly, “not just my bloody tongue?” You pout softly up at her as she giggles with a nod. “Because I’m quite nice company for you to have around ..I’m very cute and funny.” 

“You’re adorable and hilarious.” She agrees, running a finger up the middle of your torso. It sends goosebumps all along your body again, which she’s acutely aware of as that smirk is very much back on her face.  

“But in like a sexy way.” You tell her, trying to ignore the heat she’s sent through you, and she continues to nod her head as she bites her lip. “Like a ..'I should take that girl home with me and do dirty things to her' kind of way."

“Is that what you’d like me to do to you?” She asks, with her eyebrow arching.  

“After our shower ..yes please.” 

“Okay.” She promises, tangling her fingers even further as she kisses you. “Then drop to your knees.” She instructs you, and much like a loyal little soldier, you’re very quick to do as you’re told.  

She’s never really been quite so assertive with you, and a mild moan escapes you from it, as you traverse down her body, leaving a trail of kisses as you make your descent. She tightens her grip on you as she tilts your head to look back up at her, sending a dull pleasure running through you, before she guides you to the place where she’s wanting you most.  

It ends up being one of the longest showers of your life, and you’re lucky to be leaving the stadium together before you both get locked inside of it.  

Discussion turns to sleeping arrangements as you walk the length of the parking lot. Neither of you have any intentions of going home without the other, despite the lateness of the hour, and it feels like there’s an obvious choice for where you’ll end up staying. The hotel isn’t the best place for you tonight. The receptionist would undoubtedly recognise the company you’re keeping, and despite Em being out for the night, she isn’t exactly known for hanging around with her lady-friends the morning after.  

You don’t really want to have to kick Alexia out super early, and Em catching the pair of you tangled up in bed together when she gets back, also doesn’t sound ideal.  

“Are you scared of dogs?” Alexia asks as she opens her car door for you.  

“No..” 

“Then we’ll go back to mine.” 

“You told me Nala was a Pomeranian?” 

“She is.” 

“Well ..then even if I was scared of dogs, I probably wouldn’t be afraid of her.” You giggle, placing a kiss to her temple before getting into your seat.  

“I was just checking.” She tells you as she joins you in the car.  

“Is she unfriendly?” 

“No, she is a very good judge of character, though.” She warns, with a smile that’s mildly disconcerting.  

“Oh ..so it’s a red flag if she takes a disliking to me?” 

“Mhmm. I’d have to kick you out!” 

It doesn’t feel like a fully-fledged threat from her, but there is a tone to her voice, that tells you she’s not completely joking either.

She starts up her car and rests her hand on your leg as she sets off from the stadium. Her fingers trace circles on the inside of your thigh and you have to link her hand with yours as she starts trailing up, to stop her from doing too much when the goosebumps quickly form along your skin. 

“I’m sorry,” she offers, “you don’t like it?” 

“I might like it a bit too much.” You chuckle, placing a kiss to the back of her hand, before placing it back in your lap.  

It’s hard to stop your eyes from drooping a little in the car, you really are very exhausted. You rest your head against your seatbelt and dig the nails of your free hand into your leg to try and stop you from falling asleep. You have limited time with Alexia as it is, and you don’t want to miss out on any precious minutes.  

There’s something unfortunately hypnotic about the glow from the streetlamps above you, though, which isn’t super helpful with your plight. The light pulses through the windows as Alexia drives, and you give your head a shake when you find your eyelids getting too heavy.  

“Are you okay?” She asks, a little alarmed at your sudden spasm.  

“Mhmm.” You mumble, stifling a yawn. “I really need you to keep talking to me, please. I don’t want to fall asleep.” 

“What do you want to talk about?” 

“Anything.” 

She stares out at the road in front of her, losing herself in thought for a moment. She raises your hand to her lips to place a lingering kiss to your fingers, and she bops her other hand on the steering wheel.  

“I asked after your initial.” She tells you whimsically, and your face scrunches, not at all following what she means.  

It was a very weird thing for her to say to you, it’s not entirely down to your sleepiness that you didn’t understand.  

“Sorry?” You ask, and her grip on your hand tightens. 

“I was back in London last week ..I went back to that club.” She reveals, and your heart misses a beat as she speaks. “I was hoping, maybe you’d be in there again ..looking for a man.” She rolls her eyes and drums her fingers over the wheel. “I was worried ..that you might have already found one, when you weren’t there.” You place another kiss to the back of her hand, and her fingers twitch as they link through yours. “I think we made a big impression on that bartender.” She giggles.   

“Bless him. We really did put on quite the show.” 

“Mhmm! He was there again, when I went. I asked him about you, and he said he definitely remembered us, but he told me he really had no idea who you were.” A sigh escapes her lips, and she taps at the steering wheel again. “I couldn’t stay in there for very long.” She admits. “It gave me a headache. It was bad enough being in the same hotel. I did have a roommate this time, so ..we really did end up playing cards together, but ..I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Knowing you had to be near, but I’d never be able to find you.” 

“I could’ve gone to that game.” You tell her thoughtfully. You stroke your thumb along the side of her index finger and clench your jaw. “Em invited me, and I told her to bore off.” You explain. “If I’d have had any idea ..I’d have been front row for you. I hate that we missed out on time together.” 

“We’re together now.” She points out quickly.  

“Only until tomorrow night ..then we’re right back where we started.” 

“Not really.” She assures you, giving your hand a squeeze. “We know who we are now. We know where we are, we’ll swap numbers.” 

“And we’ll what, make a proper go of it? With all of these miles between us?” 

Her jaw tightens slightly as she continues staring out in front of her. “If you also want to.” She says softly.  

“I’ve never really loved the idea of doing long-distance.” 

“You don’t think it works?” She asks you, and her voice cracks slightly.  

“I know that it can. It’s just ..not ideal.” You sigh.  

“You’d miss me too much?” She smirks, and you shake your head with a small smile.  

“Maybe.” You admit. “Why’d you have to be bloody Spanish?” 

“You’d prefer me to come from London?” 

“Yes! I mean ..you wouldn’t sound as lovely, but at least you’d be local.” You point out. “It’d be far easier.” 

“Mm.” She mumbles. “Well ..you could have been from Barcelona, that would’ve been helpful.” She pulls the car up outside of her home, and you stare out at it through the window. “Come on.” She tells you, patting your thigh as she opens her door. “We won’t have to worry about any of this if Nala doesn’t like you!” 

Alexia greets you at your side of the car and takes your hand as she leads you to the door. “¡Buena suerte!” She whispers, and you’re not 100% sure what it means, as she gives you a very dramatic look of dread before she pushes through the entrance. 

It feels like she’s really trying to worry you, but it would be very harsh to send you back to your hotel with your tail between your legs because her dog’s barked at a stranger. You’re not exactly Dr Dolittle but are you a fan of animals, and you’d be quite upset yourself if Nala didn’t take a liking to you.  

You’re attacked, as soon as you step through the door. It’s not an uncontrolled ravaging that you receive, Nala certainly isn’t rabid. It’s a very excitable licking that you’re greeted with, it would seem that dogs really are like their owners. It really isn’t the big and scary personality test that Alexia likes to pretend it is at all, but she might have already known it wasn’t going to be a dealbreaker when she pushed you into the house with this vicious scary animal before her.  

“Well, shit.” She sighs, looking down at you as you play with her dog on the floor, and the rare expletive from her mouth rings very cutely in your ears.  

“What?” You giggle, craning your neck to meet her gaze.  

“Now we might have to worry about it.” 

You lift Nala into your arms and rise to your feet. A toothy smile spreads across your face as you move towards Alexia, and there’s a lot of affection for you being carried in her eyes.  

“She quite likes me.” You point out, and Alexia nods her head, trapping her bottom lip between her teeth. “And she doesn’t even know what I’m saying to her.” You place a kiss to the top of Nala’s head. “You might have to teach me some Spanish ..so we can have a proper conversation.” You tell her, bobbing Nala in your arms as you bury your face in her fur. “It’d make my trips out here a bit easier too.” 

Alexia’s eyes widen slightly at your casual words of intent, and she beams at you as you give her dog another kiss. “You do want to give us a go?” She asks.  

“Mhmm. I think I’d be crazy not to.” 

“It could be a lot of work.” She tells you, and you nod, smiling up her. 

“I know ..and I really think you might be worth it.” 

A full smile takes over her face as she quickly takes Nala from your arms and places her back down on the floor, before giving you a quick kiss. She pulls you through with her to let Nala do her business outside, and something shiny on the wall draws your eye. 

“These are all your trophies?”  

“..Some of them.” 

“Blimey!” You chuckle, as you move closer to them all. You keep a small distance, crossing your arms to make sure you don’t accidentally knock anything, and you study one, in particular, that’s caught your attention. “You made my sister cry, when you got this one.” You tell her, pointing to her World Cup medal. “I thought something terrible had happened when she rang me.” 

“I’ll have to apologise to her," she winks, “when we meet.” 

“Mm. You’ll have to apologise for today’s match, too.” You point out with a grin. “You’ve ruined her life a few times, I think.” 

Nala makes her way back inside, brushing against your legs as she scurries off to who knows where, and a finger tapping at your shoulder, distracts you from your perusal of Alexia’s trophy cabinet. She smiles as you turn to face her, and she runs her finger down your nose before giving you a quick kiss. 

“Oh my god!” Escapes your lips in a breathy giggle as Alexia lifts you into her arms and you wrap your legs around her waist. “Hi.” 

“Hi!”  

It’s a passionate kiss that she gives you, and any sense of tiredness that was taking over your body a few minutes ago, is very quickly forgotten as you lose yourself in her.

“I can walk.” You remind her, as she carries you towards her bedroom. 

“I don’t care.” 

You’re almost winded when your back hits the mattress, as she flings you onto it, a little carelessly. You’d probably be more stroppy about it, if she didn’t pull her shirt off before joining you on the bed. She didn’t bother putting a bra on after your shower and you’re very easily distracted.  

It is her actual eyes you find yourself fascinated by this time, though. They really are very beautiful, and there’s far less mystery lingering in them now. It’s tenderness you see in them as she looks over you, silent intimacy, devotion, and the idea of eyes being the window to the soul has never seemed more true to you.  

There’s an honesty in her eyes that far exceeds any words she could ever say to you, but you’re fairly sure you know what she’s thinking. You’re almost certain, in fact, and you feel compelled to confess something to her yourself. 

“You. are. staring. again.” She tells you, punctuating each word with an increasingly deeper kiss.  

“Mhmm.” You concede, and your hands rest on her hips as she smiles down at you. You swallow down carefully as your eyes meet hers, and your heart skips a few more beats. “I really think ..that I might be falling for you.” You profess, and her pupils dilate as she smiles down at you. “Is that ridiculous? To fall for someone so quickly?” 

“I don’t think so.” She says, her brow furrowing slightly. “Sometimes you just know.” 

“Would it be okay ..if I did start falling?” 

“Mhmm.” She runs her finger under your chin, rubbing her thumb over your bottom lip, before leaning herself down over you. “I’m falling for you, too.” She tells you, before pulling you into her by your neck.  

It’s different, from the sex you’ve had with other people before, being with Alexia. It never seems to be quick, and it doesn’t feel one-sided. You’re not left wanting after it, it isn’t unfulfilling. There's a continual desperate desire in you, to have her be with you, and to make sure that she’s also feeling good. It’s not a chore, and it isn’t something that she’s demanding from you.  

There’s passion between you, affection, and it’s an equal offering from you both. It’s exciting, it’s fun, and it puts all your past experiences to shame. There’s an innocence in your enjoyment of each other, it really isn’t just a physical act between the two of you. It’s a bearing of your soul to each other, every time, and it’s no wonder at all, that you’re falling as quickly as you are. 

There’s far more confidence in you now. You’re not having to follow Alexia’s lead quite so much. You know her body, what she likes you doing to it, and you savour every second of having her back under you. Every whimper and moan that you’re able to coax from her, how she feels around you, the taste of her on your tongue. Having her able to cry out your actual name this evening, has also set your soul on fire. Hearing it echo around in the showers, having her moan it like a quiet secret into your ear, as she grips at the sheets beneath her. 

Alexia does have you entirely at her mercy when she chooses to take back control, and whether she really did appreciate you being so selfless by caring about her injury in the shower, or the fact that Nala took to you quite so quickly, you can’t be certain, but you’ve definitely done something to have her wanting to treat you extra nicely, before you remind her that she doesn’t need to be quite so gentle with you.  

This isn’t your first time; you’re very much wanting her to have her wicked way with you. 

It satisfies the burning inside of you, completely, satiating your hunger, and happily leaving you a little worn out after everything. She’s in a similar state of exhaustion, panting when she collapses back down onto you. So, you can probably give yourself a little pat on the back for your own efforts with her.  

“Are you okay?” She checks with you, as you try to steady your breathing. She places a kiss to your neck in such a way, that you know she’s leaving another mark that you’ll need to cover up, and you run your fingers down her sides.   

“Mhmm ..I think you’ve wiped me out.” You admit, lazily kissing along her shoulder.   

“I think you’ve done the same!” She tells you, chuckling, as she rubs her thumb over your neck, admiring the new bruise that she’s decorated you with.  

She watches over you for a moment, and you raise your fingers to your face.  

“Do I have something on me?” 

“No..” 

“Well ..now you’re staring.” 

“Mhmm.”  

“Are you okay?” 

“Do you want children?” She asks you, rather abruptly, and you have to chuckle at the timing of her question.  

“What?” 

“Children.” She repeats.  

“..I don’t know what the Spanish education system has taught you, Ale ..but what we just did to each other ..isn’t resulting in any babies.” 

“Idiota,” she chuckles, “but do you want them?” 

“I don’t want you to go out stealing any.” 

“Y/N!” She giggles, holding herself up over you. “I’m being serious.” 

She shakes her head at you, and you grin up at her. “I think I do, yeah. Eventually, with the right person.” 

A faint smile spreads over her face and she leans down for a kiss.  

“Do you?” You question, and she nods her head, before kissing you again.  

“Two.” She tells you. “One of each. A girl first.” 

“I’ve always thought I’d have a girl first.” You admit. “Though ..I figured I’d just have two girls ..a little boy would be cute.” 

“Mhmm!” She hums against you, linking her hands with yours as she pushes herself back up.  

“That's a very intense question,” you point out, “before we’ve even been on our first date. I should be running for the hills.” 

“Do you want to?” 

“No,” you admit, “but you’ve got me picturing a family with you, and we’ve only hung out three times!” 

“Is that what we’re doing?” She questions with a smile. “We’re hanging out?” 

“What would you call it?” You ask her, and her eyes glitter above you.  

“I don’t know,” she says, “but I don’t hang out with anyone else like this.” 

“That’s a relief!” You chuckle, and she bites her lip as she shakes her head again.

“I think I want to be doing more than just hanging out with you.” She tells you, and a small smirk pulls at your lips.  

“Well ..if our date goes well tomorrow, and we keep agreeing to meet up and go out with each other. Then ..we’d probably be dating.” 

“Would that scare you, dating a woman?” 

“Not when the woman’s you. I don’t think I’d ever shut up bragging about it.” 

“That’s a lot of pressure on you, then.” She points out with a smile. “To make sure our first date goes well.” 

“I know, and I don’t know Barcelona very well.” You remind her. “I wouldn’t know where I can take you, where you won’t get papped.” 

She nods in understanding and leans down for a kiss. “Then, will you go on a date with me?” She asks, with a very knowing smile. “I can arrange our Barcelona dates, if you sort the ones in London.” 

She holds out her pinky in front of you, for you to solidify your promise with her, and you place a kiss to your linked fingers, before losing yourself in her eyes again. “Deal.” You tell her softly, and a thrill flows right through your body as she collapses back down onto you.  

It stirs in your head, as you realise that this is what it should actually feel like to be with someone. An excitement inside of you when you know you’re about to see them. A constant wish to be near to them, a genuine enjoyment of their company. A want to share your life with them, to talk about a future together without a sense of fear, or dread about it.  

It’s what you could have gone on to miss out on, for your whole life, without her.  

There’s a comfort in you, when you’re with her, a lazy pleasure in having her body resting on top of yours. The way her fingers trace over your every curve, how her lips light tiny fires on your skin. Each caressing touch from her is one that you crave. Every kiss, the way she laughs. Her relentless teasing, her continual cockiness.  

It’s all something you want no other person to be lucky enough to experience the way that you’ve been able to. It’s all what combines together to make up Alexia. You want her, completely. Body and soul.

And it hits you, like a hammer to the chest. 

You’re already in love with this woman.  

“Are you okay?” She asks. “Your heart’s beating very quickly.” 

“Mhmm ..I’m fine.” 

She props herself up on her elbows over you and tilts her head with a raised eyebrow. 

“I’m a terrible liar?” You realise, and she softly nods her head. 

“You can talk to me.”  

“I know, I just ..I’m just going to miss you, after tomorrow.” 

“We can’t do that to ourselves.” She tells you quickly. “We still have the whole day to spend together.” 

“I know, I just—” 

She mutes you with a kiss and shakes her head. “No.” She says. “We’re not doing that. We can worry about it later. I’m taking you out tomorrow. You can’t go into our first date feeling miserable, the rest of our dates rest on the success of this one. You go into this date worrying about saying goodbye, we’ll never have any other da—” 

You cut her off this time.

It seemed like she was really about to start spiralling almost as pathetically as you have been doing all day. What a pair of losers you are together. Maybe you are perfect for each other. 

“Okay.” You tell her, nodding as you wipe a tear from the corner of her eye. “Okay, I’m sorry.” 

“We have one more day together,” she whispers, “we’re not wasting it being sad.” 

It’s an unfortunate curiosity, that sleep has been so hard for you to come by when you’ve been so desperate for it, and now, it’s threatening to steal you away when you fancy nothing more than staying awake forever. You don’t want to go to sleep, but a yawn that you’re not quite quick enough to stifle, lets Alexia know that you’re struggling a little to stay up with her.  

“Shit.” You mutter, throwing your arm over your face. “You caught that didn’t you?” 

“Mhmm. You can go to sleep.” She assures you, but you shake your head with a petulant pout.  

“I’m not tired.” You tell her, and she giggles, placing a kiss to your forehead before rolling off the side of you.  

“You really are a terrible liar.” She says, opening her arms to welcome you into her, and you don’t waste much time nestling yourself in her embrace.  

“I don’t want to sleep.” You admit to her chest, and she runs her fingers through your hair. “Not while I’m with you.” 

“I’ll still be here when you wake up.” 

“You’d better be.” You tell her. 

She throws her leg over your hip, drawing you in even closer to her, and you run your fingers up her thigh. 

“Are you quite comfy?”

“Mhmm! I’m not having you roll away from me again in the morning.” 

“I really wouldn’t want to.” You murmur, placing a kiss to her chest, as you snuggle closer against her.  

“Well, now you can’t!” She tells you. “I have very strong legs.” 

“I know, you do.” You chuckle sleepily. “I’ve had them clamped around my head a few times.” 

Another small yawn escapes you as you close your eyes, finally accepting defeat, and you place another lazy kiss to her chest as you begin drifting off.  

“Te quiero, Y/N.” Alexia whispers. “Dulces sueños.” 

“You sound really very lovely ..and I’m really bloody sorry ..but I don’t know what you’re saying to me.” You remind her, and you can feel her nodding her head gently. 

“Sweet dreams.” She translates, tightening her arms around you, as you struggle to stifle yet another little yawn.  

“Sweet dreams, Ale.” You manage to mumble in reply, before sleep fully consumes you, and you’re finally able to rest.

[theowritesstuff]

Yours No More

Nikolai Lantsov x gn!healer!reader

Summary: Hiding an almost-relationship with the Prince of Ravka is hard enough, but it gets even harder to navigate feelings when he’s engaged to a Saint

Prompts: “are you really so oblivious?” & “it hurts, just how much I ache for you.”

A/N: What can I say? I love writing healer!reader. Also once again I’m mixing book canon and show canon

Sobachka - puppy

Moi tsarevich - my prince

Moi tsar - my king

SHADOW & BONE S2 SPOILERS

When thinking about your life, the young prince of Ravka seemed to be a prominent feature. There was before Nikolai, the life you lived before the palace, then there was after Nikolai, the life surrounded by other Grisha, serving the royal family.

You were offered up to the Lantsovs as somewhat of a personal healer, ready to tend to them whenever needed. The king and queen didn’t really have a need for a healer most of the time, and the older prince was often far from the palace. They younger prince however, the sobachka, had a tendency to dive headfirst into danger whenever he liked.

While this very well could have made Nikolai a thorn in your side, you’d quickly grown fond of him. It was impossible not to, what with his crystalline blue eyes, the blonde waves that adorned his head, and his charming, carefree spirit.

You’d been given an easy role. You’ve seen how other Grisha are treated amongst the other royals, sometimes even the soldiers from the First Army. Your poor friend Genya was dealt a terrible hand when it came to the roll she played in the palace, so you were grateful for the young prince’s kindness.

He became just as infatuated with you as you did with him just as quickly though. Whenever you ran to him healing a scraped knee, or when his parents sent you with him when he joined the First Army specifically to tend to him, you stole his heart little by little, until he could no longer call it his own. He almost looked forward to getting hurt, because it meant he could call upon you.

If asked he’d deny it, but he begged his parents to let him take you with him whilst he studied for his apprenticeship. They were hesitant to send you away, to lose their best healer, but Nikolai was persuasive.

He asked you to tailor him, just enough that no one would recognize the prince of Ravka on a ship. You reluctantly agreed, slowly waving your hands over his face, changing the features you’d grown to find comfort in. His blonde waves now a bright red, stark against his pale skin. His once sparkling blue eyes were now a muddy green color. The only thing that really remained of your prince was the ever present smirk he had.

“How do I look?” He asked you.

“Different.” You nodded.

“Good. No one will be able to pick me out of a crowd.” He looks over himself in a mirror.

“I could.” You stand behind him. “I think it’d be quite easy to pick you out.”

He smiles, but furrows his brows. “How so?”

“Well, let’s start with your posture. You’re still too regal. Relax your shoulders a bit. You’re no longer carrying the weight of a prince.” You place your hands on his shoulders, using your thumbs to massage the muscles. “Then there’s your charm-”

He quickly turns his head to face you, a bold smirk resting on his face. “You think I’m charming?”

You laugh. “I think you’re confident, sometimes overly so. I think you have this air about you that draws others to you.”

“Are you?” He asks, his voice barely above a murmur.

“Am I what?”

“Drawn to me?” He leans closer to you, his eyes shifting down to your lips.

Before he could press his lips to yours a sharp knock sounded from the door. You pulled away from each other quickly, both trying to hide your flustered states.

“Come in.” Nikolai called.

Tamar opened the door and poked her head in. “Love the new look captain.” She laughed. “Ready to go?”

Sailing the seas with Sturmhond took some getting used to. The few Grisha you knew helped you settle into this new life, while others in the crew wondered why their captain kept a healer so close.

You shared a bunk with a few of the other crew mates, but more often than not, Nikolai pulled you away to the captain’s quarters. He wanted to keep you close to him.

“What if someone breaks into my room and stabs me?” He asked, shrugging.

You shook your head. “Then you’d probably want the Bataar twins here to protect you.”

“Here I’d be. Laying on the floor, blood pooling out of my chest.” He collapses to the floor with a loud thud, a hand over his chest. “Slowly letting the life drain from my body.” He closes his eyes for a moment.

“Don’t be so dramatic sobachka. I know you wouldn’t take death laying down. You’d fight it until your very last moment.” You roll your eyes at him, but can’t help your smile from growing. “Even then, you’d probably drag your corpse to me.”

“I would.”

Occasionally, in the quiet night, he’ll allow you to wipe away the tailored face you’ve created for him, and bring back his softer Lantsov features. You brush a hand through his gold locks, pushing them away from his face.

He lets you admire him in silence. A clever quip waiting on the tip of his tongue, but he never allows it to escape in fear that it will ruin these moments with you.

“Moi tsarevich.” You sigh as your fingertips travel from his hair down the side of his face, tracing over his cheekbones.

“You don’t have to call me that.” He whispers to you. His eyes remain locked on yours as yours travel around his face, memorizing every detail of him.

“Nikolai then.” You give him a soft smile.

You reluctantly pull yourself away from him after a while, ready to tailor him back into his privateer persona. “It’s probably time for Sturmhond to return.”

“You sound disappointed.”

“Well,” now you smirk at him. “I think the prince is decidedly more handsome than the pirate.”

“Privateer. It’s an-”

“Important distinction. Yes, I know.” You laugh as you slowly tailor him back into Sturmhond.

Once finished you walk over to the other side of the room, where he’s added a bunk specifically for you. You blow out the few candles that were lit, and climb into your bunk.

“Y/n?” Nikolai calls from the other side of the room.

“Yes?”

“Do you really think I’m handsome?” You can hear his grin.

“Good night Nik.” You roll your eyes affectionately, rolling over to face the wall.

He falls asleep with a smile on his face, your new nickname for him floating around in his head.

You’d fallen into an easy routine with Nikolai aboard the Volkvony. You spent time with the crew during the day, tending to injuries, sometimes even practicing the heartrender specialties with Tolya or Tamar. Then the evenings you’d spend with Nikolai. You keep him company as he makes plans for where the ship is going and why, you show him what the twins have taught you.

“Watch this, I can adjust your heartbeat a little bit!”

He watches as you do the heartrender motions in front of his chest. He can feel his heartbeat quicken just a little bit, but whether it’s from your powers or your close proximity he’s unsure.

“You don’t need to use your powers to make my heart speed up.” He takes your hands in his and holds them to his chest. You feel his heartbeat through the thick blue coat he’s got on, and sure enough it’s beating faster than usual.

He’s smirking down at you, proud of how flustered he’s seemed to make you as you pull your hands away from his chest. You excuse yourself, and quickly leave him there, wondering whether or not he holds the same power over your heart that you do his.

Evenings are spent sharing moments with Nikolai, both of you teetering on the line that divides friendship and more. Quiet moments shared where you both wonder what would happen if you crossed that line. If you just leaned into each other, and took what your hearts most desired.

When Nikolai had taken in Alina Starkov and Mal Oretsev you were nervous. You knew Nikolai had a penchant for adventure, but harboring the sun summoner and a deserted First Army soldier was an entirely new venture.

You knew that he wanted to take them back to Ravka, to regroup with the First and Second Army there to find a way to destroy the Fold and take down Kirigan. He helped them find and kill the sea whip, giving Alina another amplifier to use, while you stayed behind on the ship, away from the danger.

Nikolai grew closer and closer to Alina as time went on, well after she learned who he actually was then punched him out of frustration. It was clear he was trying to create some sort of relationship with her, a type of alliance between the Ravkan royals and the living Saint.

Whilst Alina became closer with the prince, you started to form a bond with Mal. He was a bit hesitant about you at first, having a hand in keeping Nikolai’s identity a secret was a little hard to forgive, but he found you were a nice change from the air that Nikolai brought with him wherever he went.

“You spend practically every minute with him. You must find him insufferable.” Mal scoffs, watching Nikolai attempt to win over Alina.

It breaks your heart a little, watching him with her. It almost feels like you’ve been pushed to the side in his life. What was once a life long friendship has now turned into a mere partnership. He’s replaced you in his heart with a new Grisha, one much more powerful than you.

“No.” You shake your head. “His company means the world to me.” You tell Mal, quiet enough so he’s the only one that hears you. “You know what that’s like though. To spend so much of your life with someone that you form what you think is an unbreakable bond with one another.”

He gives you a sympathetic smile. He feels the same way. He knows Alina loves him, he’s sure of it, but like you, he fears that something could pull her away from him.

Being back in the palace separates you even more from Nikolai. Instead of sharing a room with him, you now occupy a room at the other end of a hallway from him. You both long for one another in the quiet night. His room is far too empty, and his bed far too large for just himself.

You think that maybe he’ll ask you to stay with him, like on the Volkvony. That you’ll share a space with him again and you’ll have that little bit of peace you once shared. But he never comes to your door, and you never go to his.

Nikolai doesn’t fail to notice your relationship with Mal starting to grow. While you once sat by his side during meals, Alina now occupies your seat, and you sit with Mal, laughing with each other about something only the two of you can hear.

He feels something in his chest, a sharp pain to his heart. This is something even you, the best healer he’s ever known, couldn’t fix.

You feel the same pain when he announces his engagement to the sun summoner. Unlike Nikolai, it takes a moment. He announces it at dinner, while the First and Second armies are gathered together, that their marriage will help heal Ravka. You’re frozen, too shocked to move. It’s Mal that pulls you back to reality, his hand on yours.

You feel the pain in your chest, a twisting sensation in your stomach, as you turn away from Mal to look back at Nikolai. He’s looking around at the cheering soldiers, but his eyes catch yours for a moment. He sees the red that begins to outline them, and the tears welling up. He looks like he might go to you, to assure you that you have his heart, and not Alina. But he straightens himself out, then sits back down.

He desperately wants to follow you as you quickly exit the room, no doubt heading back to yours. He wants to chase you down the halls, to wrap you up in his arms and wipe away the tears he’s the cause of, to whisper words of love against your lips. But he can’t. He must marry Alina for the sake of his country.

He keeps an eye on you at the engagement party his mother threw for him. You’re talking with other Grisha. You look breathtaking. The only thing missing from your ensemble is the Lantsov emerald. You don’t spare him one glance at all that night. That is, until chaos ensues.

Shadow monsters destroy everything in sight, and take the lives of so many. You search for Nikolai in the bustling crowd, but a hand grabs your arm, pulling you away. Zoya drags you away from the scene before you, tugging you through numerous hallways.

She leads you to a series of tunnels underground, all while you try to pull away from her.

“You won’t be of any use if you die trying to save the prince.” She grumbles at you. “You’re one of the few healers here, and we’re going to need all the help we can get.”

You hate to admit it, but as usual she’s right. There are dozens injured, some worse than others. You’re about to get to work when someone calls out your name.

You look down to the other end of the hall to see Nikolai. He looks fine, no visible injuries, but he does look distraught. He practically sprints to you, and pulls you into a tight hug.

“I couldn’t find you. You weren’t there, and I thought-”

“I’m fine, I’m fine Nik.” You pull away just enough to be able to look him in the eyes.

His scan over you, searching for injuries, until you lift his chin so he’s looking at your face again.

“I’m okay, I promise.”

He nods and takes a deep breath.

“Besides, shouldn’t I be the one worried about you? I am your healer after all.”

He huffs out a laugh. “Right.”

Alina pulls Nikolai away, asking if he’d seen Mal anywhere. You take that as your cue to leave. You start going from person to person, helping heal them in any way you can.

When it comes time to make a plan for Ravka’s next move, and Nikolai and Alina suggest finding the Neshyenyer, your mind starts to wonder. He’s sending Tolya and Zoya to go to Ketterdam and recruit the Crows to find it.

You think selfishly for a moment. It would be a way to get away from the soon to be king and queen of Ravka. A way to alleviate your heart of the pain you feel when you’re around them.

“I’d like to accompany Tolya and Zoya.” You tell him.

He looks surprised to say the least. “Why?”

“Well, there will be seven people looking for a mystical weapon, danger is bound to arise, they may need a healer.” You attempt to convince yourself and him that this is the reason you’d like to go.

“No. You’ll stay here.” He shakes his head. He can’t fathom so much space between you. “You’re my healer.” He puts emphasis on the word my, you don’t know if he notices it, but you do.

You listen intently for his heartbeat. It’s pace slowly accelerates as he starts to pace around the room.

You step in front of him, blocking his continuous path, and take his hands in yours. He closes his eyes, relishing in the feeling of having you so near. He leans his forehead against yours.

“I think we both know, I am yours no more sobachka.” You murmur.

He shakes his head and opens his eyes. You can see tears slowly start to build up. “If you insist that you must go, take this.” He reaches into his pocket, and pulls out his gold compass. “So you can always find your way back home.” Back to me.

The trip to Shu Han was definitely an eventful one. Tolya kept a watchful eye on you after being told explicitly by Nikolai to protect you at all costs. The Crows were an eclectic bunch, no one quite like the other.

Seeing Nina again was nice. She was still the same witty friend you remembered her to be.

“What? The prince let you off your leash?” She laughs when she first sees you.

“The king.” Zoya corrects her.

“Yes, he’s tending to his country, and his soon to be wife at the moment.” You tell her.

Her face falls slightly as she looks between you and Zoya. “Oh. My apologies, I didn’t-”

“It’s alright Nina. I’m really here to help forget about him.” You lower your voice. “Besides, he was never mine to lose.”

You stayed with Tolya through the heist, getting nearly killed by poisonous gas, and choking down a butterfly to save yourself.

Other than the poison slowly making its way through your body, the gas didn’t harm you physically. It lulled you to sleep, pulling you into a sweet dream.

You were with Nikolai, of course, in the palace. Light shone into his room from the large window, making the gold in his unkempt hair shine. His arms were wrapped tightly around you as you both lay the soft sheets of his bed.

“Hello my love.” His voice is deep, still strained from sleep.

“Moi tsar-”

He nuzzles his face into the crook of you neck, pressing soft kisses against the column of your throat. “How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that.” You can feel him smiling against you.

“Pirate Prince then.” You smirk.

He scoffs, then pulls away from his assault on your neck to look at you. “I wish we could stay like this forever.” He says, moving to cup your face with one of his hands.

You reach a hand up onto his bare chest, just over his heart. You listen, searching for the all too familiar rhythm, but you don’t hear anything. You give him a sad smile and shake your head. “Me too Nik. But I know this isn’t real.”

He pouts. “Promise me you’ll come back. Back to the palace. That you won’t find a new life in Shu Han, or Ketterdam.”

You know he isn’t real, that he isn’t actually asking you to come home to him, that it’s just what you wish he’d do. Even so, you press a kiss to his cheek.

“I promise.”

You wake with a burning sensation in your throat, in the dark temple. Tolya and the Crows are with you, some in a coughing fit, others completely silent.

Tolya comes over to you, and rests a hand on your shoulder. “Are you alright?”

You nod. “Yeah, I’m alright.”

His eyes scan your face. “What did you see?”

You know he can hear your heartbeat spike. He glances down at your hand as you subconsciously reach for the compass that hangs around your neck, hidden under you clothes. You know you won’t get away with lying to him, but you do it anyways. “Nothing.”

You’re grateful that he doesn’t push for an answer.

After retrieving the blade, you all head back to Ravka together. The Fold has now expanded, nearly covering the entirety of the Spinning Wheel.

“Stay with Zoya.” Tolya tells you. “You’ll be able to help Alina.”

Your heart yearns to go with the other group, to find Nikolai, but you know saving the sun summoner takes precedence over anything at the moment.

“I’m sure he’ll be okay.” Nina tries to assure you. “He was always headstrong.”

Kaz glances at you as you wring your hands, about to follow Zoya, Nina, and Inej.

“Y/n.” He calls to you. He walks over to you and speaks lowly. “Watch over my wraith, and I’ll keep an eye on your king.”

You give him a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

The journey into the Fold was terrifying. You kept yourself as silent as possible as the four of you searched for Alina. She and Mal were near the edge of the fold, fighting what looked to be a volcra. It had a hold of Alina’s hair, pulling her further into the darkness.

Inej slashed the monster with the Neshyenyer, killing it. They both looked grateful to see your little group.

“We need to get further into the Fold to destroy it.” Alina nods her head towards what looks to be nothing but pitch black.

You check over Alina for any injuries as you head further into the darkness. You heal any small cuts or scrapes you find on her, quietly watching her skin mend back together.

“There. In perfect condition to destroy the Fold and save Ravka.”

She snorts out a laugh. “No pressure, right?” She creates a small bundle of light in her hand and stares at it.

You smile at her. You want to dislike her, but you can’t. The living Saint who has stolen Nikolai’s attention from you is actually amiable. She’s kind, very brave, and willing to do anything to end this war.

“You’re going to make the perfect queen when this is all over.” You tell her.

She looks up at you and shakes her head. “I never wanted this. Nikolai thinks this engagement will strengthen Ravka, but I know my heart belongs to another.” She glances to Mal. “Just as his does too.” She turns back to you with a pointed look.

“What do you mean?”

“He doesn’t love me. I don’t think he could love anyone the way he loves you.”

“He doesn’t-”

“Oh, I assure you. He does.” She scoffs. “When I accepted his proposal I thought that maybe we could learn to love each other, but I see the way he looks at you. I hear the way he talks about you. I may be the sun summoner, but to him you’re the brightest. You’re the shining light in his life.”

You feel warmth spread across your face. Did Nikolai really feel that way about you?

“If we succeed today, the crown may be mine, but I promise you, the heart of the king will be yours.”

You understood just how strong shared love could be when you saw Alina light the fold. Combined with Mal’s power she was able to cast an immense light into the darkness. Flashes of gold and pink spread around you.

Kirigan arrived not long after, ready to fight Alina, but she was able to assail him. You rushed to Mal’s side when he collapsed, trying your hardest to help him. Kirigan had delivered a near fatal blow. In all your years of healing Nikolai, you’ve never had to heal something this large.

Alina falls to her knees next to you, taking his hand in hers. You do everything you can for him, focusing all of your power on keeping him alive.

Streaks of light flew from Alina. Reds, purples, and golds flashed through the sky, breaking apart the Fold. She takes a dagger from Mal’s side, and plunges it into his chest, screaming out as bright blue lights surrounds you. You shield your eyes, but can still see the blue behind your eyelids.

When you open your eyes again, the Fold has dissipated.

“Can you heal him?” Alina asks you, with tears down her cheeks.

“I’ll try.” You nod at her, then turn your attention back to the now unconscious boy.

Kirigan slowly rises up, and walks towards you. Alina stands up, taking a protective step in front of you and Mal.

“Now, you know sacrifice.”

“Beyond anything you’ve ever known.” Alina tilts her head up at him. “And look what it did.”

“Indeed. Look what it did.”

You try to start Mal’s heart again, but can’t seem to get it. Nina kneels down next to you, lifting her hand to his chest.

“I’ll get his heart started again. You focus on the wound.”

You take a deep breath, then pull the knife out of him, quickly moving your hands to sew his skin back together.

You’re so focused on saving Mal, that you don’t realize Alina has knelt down next to you again.

“He’s putting up a good fight, this one. Like something’s holding him on the other side. Give him a reminder then, of what matters over here.” Nina tells her.

After a few moments Mal wakes up, gasping for air. You sigh in relief, leaning back to check over the rest of the group. Inej and Zoya are both unharmed, staring down at Kirigan’s body.

Zoya stays with the body, while the other five of you start the hike back to the Spinning Wheel. Your spirits lift as you get closer and closer, and enter through one of the walls.

There are bodies strewn about on the ground, and groups of people gathered with hushed conversations. Their attention all turns towards your group as you enter though. Most of them are watching Alina, giving her silent thanks for finally destroying the Fold. Kaz’s eyes are locked on Inej, only briefly scanning over her, before he looks to you and gives you a slight nod.

You look past him to see Nikolai sitting with Tolya and Tamar. He’s got blood smeared on the side of his head, and he struggles to rise to his feet. He can’t seem to take his eyes off you, slowly limping in your direction. You rush to him, holding his waist with one hand, and the other pressed against his chest.

“Nik, what happened? I leave you alone for a few days and you nearly get yourself killed.” Your words are teasing, but your tone doesn’t quite match.

“I’m okay.” He smiles at you.

“Let’s go sit down so I can heal you, alright?” You guide him away from the group to a more private area. He sits down on a crate, groaning at the pain in his leg.

You heal his leg, then sit next to him, with your hand hovering over the wound on his head. He’ll have to wash the dried blood off, but you’ve closed the wound.

His eyes wander over your face as you heal him. He feels whole, complete with you here next to him.

“I should go see if anyone else needs any help.” You say quietly, rising to your feet.

He grabs your hand in his, softly pulling you down next to him again. “Allow me to be selfish for a moment, and keep you here all for myself.”

You reach into your top, and pull the compass out from underneath it. You lift the chain up over your head and hold it out for him.

“It seems you need it more than I do.”

“No.” He closes your hands over it. “It kept you safe. And it brought you back to me.” He whispers.

His eyes glance down at your lips, then back into your eyes. It looks like he’s having an internal battle with himself. A battle that only ends when he leans forward and brushes his lips against yours. You lift your hands to his shoulders to steady yourself. He pulls you closer to him, deepening the kiss.

Everything comes rushing back to you in that moment. You softly push him away, breaking the kiss, and turn your head from him.

“What? What’s wrong?” He asks, reaching for your hand again.

You pull your hand away from his reach quickly. “This isn’t right Nikolai.” You stand up and take a step away from him. “We can’t do this, not when you’re engaged to Alina. I can’t-”

He’s quick to get up and move to stand in front of you. “Y/n, I assure you, my heart belongs to you.”

“You can’t say that Nikolai. You can’t just play around with my feelings.” You shake your head and wipe away the tears started to form in your eyes.

“Play with your feelings? Are you really so oblivious?” He scoffs. He takes your hands and holds them to his chest. “Listen to my heart. Hear the way it beats for you, just for you.” He takes a tentative step closer, so close to you that his nose brushes against the tip of yours. “It hurts, just how much I ache for you.”

“But Alina-”

“Was just a political move. I thought that an alliance with the sun summoner would strengthen Ravka.” He takes a deep breath. “But a marriage with her wouldn’t mean anything to me, not when I could’ve had you.”

“Nik…” You trail off, attempting to gather your thoughts.

He lets go of your hands, and moves to hold your face. “Tell me to leave. Tell me you never want to see me again, that you’re going to leave and live in Ketterdam, and I promise you, you won’t ever have to deal with me ever again.”

You can’t fathom doing any of that.

“Or, tell me that you’ll stay here with me, and that we’ll work this out. Tell me that you feel the same way I do. Because I will find a way to rule Ravka with you by my side, I swear to you.”

A smile starts to spread across your face. “You always have been stubborn sobachka.”

Before he can retort you pull him into a kiss, sealing your own promise to him, that your heart does in fact belong to him.

[anonymouscheeses]

Obvious shit I noticed part 3 (spoilers for welcome to heaven)

Look at her! "Teehee"

Also she's nervous! Foreshadowing omg 🤯

STICKERS! Two pride stickers and a cute donut. Gives me an idea to draw Chaggie at a donut shop while everything is burning down <3 (I'll probably do it but if any artist wants to as well go ahead!)

*CHOKES ON COFFEE* I LOVE THEM. I'M SORRY I GET SO GIDDY WHEN THEY HAVE EVEN THE SMALLEST INTERACTION BUT UGHHH I NEED MORE, IT WILL NEVER BE ENOUGH 🙏🙏

KISSY! MWA! *SCREAMS INTO THE VOID*

Vivzie give me more, moar now. MOAR

DAMN. SHE CAN THROW- or maybe it just exaggerates the perspective in this frame but still- ZAMNNN

Cherri x Sir Pentious fans RISE UP.

I wasn't ever really a fan of it myself but I always thought it was CUTE. Like 3 seconds before this part I was already begging for them to kiss 😭

More foreshadowing!

AAAAAA CREEPY BIRD THINGS!!!

Oh wait- Sera's hot and Emily's already adorable

If heaven don't look like what this is in the show, I DONT WANT IT! (THATS A JOKE PLEASE DON'T SMITE ME)

JEALOUS GIRLFRIEND VAGGIE!! Can I just say how much I love Vaggie's face expressions? Not just here but like all the time. She's just made to be so exaggerated, out of all of them I thought it would be Charlie who would have the most dramatic faces but Vaggie wins it for me. I JUST GIGGLE SO HARD WHEN SHE LOOKS LIKE THIS BAHAHAH

Okay yeah. It's very obvious now. Vaggie is definitely an ex-exterminator. They don't close in on Charlie here so it's made to subtly nudge the attention to Vaggie. HOW DID THEY IMMEDIATELY NOTICE IT WAS HER THO??

Hot-

That's it.

SHARE THAT MOTHUSSY GIRL-

YOU'RE TELLING ME SHE GREW OUT ALL OF THAT HAIR?!? YEAH ITS BEEN A LONG TIME SINCE THEN BUT STILL AJJSJD.

But overall the design is pretty meh. I always loved the idea of short hair Vaggie and even have seen art of it but it's just yknow, alright. Reminds me of Cassandra from Tangled: the series. IM LISTENING TO ONE OF THE SONGS RIGHT NOW HELPPP

THIS SCENE HERE! WOOOOO! SO GLAD WE KNOW WHEN AND WHERE THEY FIRST MET!! Wish we got it extended tho. And also probably push it to next episode so it would have a better impact(atleast I think thats when they'll have the duet). BUT WHATEVER SOMETHING IS BETTER THAN NOTHING! or uh whatever

Vaggie must've been a bit terrified at first. The only sinner she ever sent mercy to was a child. Then to see someone who to her is an adult sinner who just looks really human, that must be crazy. BUT THEN IF SHE WAS TOLD THAT CHARLIE WAS ACTUALLY THE PRINCESS OF HELL? HOOOO, LOCK IN AND STEAL HER. THAT'S SOME WATTPAD SHIT. Also, I wonder how long Charlie thought of redeeming sinners. It would make sense to be after meeting Vaggie, since it could have been a wake up call to the fact not all sinners are bad people. Even though Vaggie isn't a sinner technically, Charlie didn't know that at the time. But maybe Charlie was always like this but just needed to meet someone who could start her dream with her. Long rant uhhh

Haha penis 🫵

SCRAP WHATEVER I SAID IN THE FIRST PART. THEY PROBABLY DO FUCK- OR DONT?? I DONT KNOW- ANYWAY LESBIAN SEX (BOTTOM TEXT). WHY DO I CARE SO MUCH??? SOMEONE PULL THE TRIGGER.

Lute looks like a basic asf anime gorl. Adam doesn't ever take his helmet off, or maybe he just can't. OH HE'S DOING THE GAY SIGN 💅💅 Very appropriate for what he's saying

Mentor, apprentice. I love that Husk is just trying to help Angel grow but isn't going to force him into it if he doesn't want to.

Im not a fan of huskerdust and think they'd be better friends as I can't imagine a relationship with them at all. But it's still nice and they are supportive of eachother so that's like- yknow. Basic rules. Or something like that. (HELP. I ruined it all at the last part)

I- girl- WHY IS SHE GROWLING?? GRR GRR RR (INSERT TWILIGHT SAGA HERE)

VAGGIE'S FACE. SENDS ME. WHO GAVE HER THESE OVERDRAMATIC EXPRESSIONS, I APPLAUD YOU RGAGAGA

Ooo... I didnt like this part at all... Instead of making the choice she just runs off. Then because the plot demands it, Adam says nothing. Kinda whish she atleast avoided the question, maybe in some way that would require actual thinking? For a character like Vaggie, she could choose either way and it feel like it's still her. If she chose to protect Charlie's dream, she would still be perfectly loyal to her but in the act of so would reveal a secret that could harm their relationship(which does happen at the end but that's because the plot wanted it like that). If she chose to side with Adam, she'd be hurting Charlie emotionally, sure, but it would keep a secret that could make Charlie see Vaggie less than who she is to her already(atleast what Vaggie might think would happen). Imo it should've been her deciding to protect Charlie, since it would mean she's devoted to her at all times.

ANOTHER THING! IF SHE COULDN'T MAKE THE CHOICE, THAT IS SOMETHING INTERESTING TO GO INTO. Maybe it could go deeper into how Vaggie doesn't know who she is without Charlie. So when she has a choice to make, like here, she can't do it without feeling the need to ask Charlie. BUT NOOO, YA HAD TO GO WITH THIS!! Wow. That was a long ass rant. Wtf 😭

Maybe I'm a dumbass. Maybe they'll talk about that next episode, but still, atleast touch on it a bit to not seem rushed?

Angel looking out for his kids like a mom. We always did need the motherly figure, the one closest to that being Charlie but girl needs a mother in her life too(damn, wait, I did her so dirty).

Huh, so why does it work here then? 🤨🤨 if it was said in the contract that Valentino can do whatever he wants only in the studio, then why is this the exception? 🤨🤨

Yes I'm stupid. Why do you ask? (No genuinely what's happening here)

OH ITS THE IMAGE! I really like Sera so far, hope we get more of her soon or in season 2.

Now that we know the context of this, yeah, that's fucking insane. And badass. WOMEN.

HMM. THATS STRANGE. DID YOU NOT FOR ONCE THINK THERE COULD BE A POSSIBILITY SHE MIGHT HAVE BEEN AN ANGEL? Okay I probably wouldn't either but I have an excuse, I'm an idiot. Some girl with a standing out outfit, with one eye, looks unusually human, right after/during the extermination... that's pretty solid ass proof. But I'm dumb so don't take anything i say seriously :D

Imagine this. No- shit. Just-

JUST LOOK! THEY ARE SO CUTE! EVEN THOUGH CRAZY SHIT IS HAPPENING.

*SWEATS*

Vaggie is DESPERATE. PLEADING. That's obvious yeah, but don't mind me I had nothing to say for the last 3 images I just thought they were cool

I mean. Slay I guess. 😍💅

Do all the exterminators look similar or is it just Lute and Vaggie? 🤨

Even though Vaggie and Charlie may be going through this horrible thing with a hard punch in the gut, but Vaggie is always going to comfort her and I just think that's so adorable.

Also Adam looks like a chicken hah.

Everyone fears to be like Lucifer. If they don't do bad things they believe are for the greater good and make sacrifices that put them higher than those in hell, they could themselves be fallen. It's really interesting but I don't know if it's going to be fleshed out enough with the amount of episodes left. Which also worries me about everything else that still hasn't be concluded. There's gonna be loose strings I just know it. Hopefully though they rather do that then rush everything out y'know?

I want the next episode to be mostly focused on Vaggie and Charlie's relationship and the healing of what happened. Not for the entire episode of course, it would feel drawn out if it did, but atleast address the problem for the first like I would say 10 minutes? Then the rest would focus on one or two loose threads while also having Vaggie and Charlie acting upon moving on. That's just my idea but yeah-