#she left after that so I could lie down for a bit longer but I couldn't fall back asleep!!! whyyyyyy

[liebelesbe]

somebody please explain to me why yesterday my mom told me to get lots of sleep today but then proceeds to wake me up at 9am 😐

[bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky]

Come Find Me | Bucky Barnes x Reader

I am back back back again! I have missed writing so much, I just don't have nearly the amount of time that I used to. But I'm in my last semester of school! So hopefully I'll be back on a consistent fanfic grind once I'm done :) PS: If you know what the title is referencing, you get a big hug from me.

Word Count: 13,439

Warnings: blood, talk of violence, reader injury

Bucky checked his texts every few minutes. Initially, he lied to himself about the reason behind it. He told himself he must’ve opened his conversation with you accidentally, or that he mistook an email notification for a text from you. Simple, innocent mistakes. 

Either way, he always ended up staring at your side of the conversation, hoping for a gray ellipsis to appear. 

But after a while, he could no longer deny the truth- and why would he want to? You were coming home. 

You hadn’t been gone long, and your mission was projected to be a cake walk. But he couldn’t help it; he missed you. He missed you when you went on missions, when you visited your parents out of state, when you slept in your room down the hall. Missing you was part of him now, woven into the fabric of his being. It matched the material of his soul perfectly, like he was always meant to feel this way.

He fired off a quick “let me know when you land” message and waited, hoping you’d write back soon. 

Usually, you texted him when you were headed back to the compound. It gave him a countdown to your return and something to look forward to. It also signaled to him that you were, in fact, coming home alive. Even if a bit banged up, you were well enough to shoot him a message. And that always eased his worries.

Today, however, was different. No text, no call.

It struck him as bizarre and sounded Bucky’s internal alarms. But he silenced them as best he could. He wasn’t going to let himself get worked up, not when you had a perfectly good reason for not messaging him.  

This was your first time leading a mission with a new recruit under your wing. Bucky knew you devoted your full attention to your trainee, giving him absolutely everything you had. You took this position- as well as your pupil’s safety and success- very seriously. He knew you were probably busy helping your recruit learn a swath of new things, and who was he to interrupt?

Bucky opened the log and saw your jet had been marked as ‘incoming’ only minutes ago. A sigh of relief left his chest and eased his muscles. Sure, he would’ve rather heard that information from you, but it didn’t matter. Your jet would be here soon; he had no reason to worry. 

The moment he saw that your jet was homeward bound, he lost the ability to think about anything else. He counted the minutes, the seconds. You had to be close, right? The log wouldn’t have said ‘Incoming’ if you were still hours away. 

To pass the time, he folded laundry, answered emails, reread a few chapters of The Hobbit- but he couldn’t focus. He thought of you, only you. And no matter how hard he tried to distract himself, he couldn’t hang around his room any longer. He couldn’t stand it. He needed to be there when the jet landed. He needed to meet you on the steps of the aircraft and wrap you in a bear hug. 

And there was no real harm in waiting near the hangar, was there? ‘If anything,’ he told himself, ‘It’s actually more convenient for her if I meet her there. That way, I can carry her bag- she’s probably tired.’ 

Anything to rationalize his desperate need to be near you.

He knew in his heart of hearts that you didn’t need him to carry your bag or help you off the jet. But this lie was all the convincing he needed. Without hesitation, he ditched his room and set off down the hall, your impending homecoming pulling him forward. 

It was in that moment he noticed just how far the elevator was from his room. The walk seemed to stretch on and on, the hallway growing longer with each step. And how had he never noticed how slowly the elevator moved? It slid downward at a glacial pace, toying with his patience. For such an expensive, state of the art building, the elevator moved like an ancient piece of turn of the century machinery. Bucky cursed Tony’s engineering. 

Everything seemed to add time, multiplying his moments without you. The universe liked toying with him, teasing him. And this was just another cruel joke. 

The moment the doors opened, Bucky sprang free out into the hallway. He knocked into Clint and his group of trainees and called an apology over his shoulder without stopping. He couldn’t stop, couldn’t waste time- not when you could arrive at any moment. 

His field of view narrowed into tunnel vision, only allowing for visualization of the path toward the hangar. He didn’t greet his fellow team members or allow for distraction. You were his one-track mind. That is, until something stopped him. 

“Shit, sorry, man,” your trainee, Jake, laughed as he bumped into Bucky. He took a step to the side and attempted to continue down the hall, but Bucky blocked his path. 

“Jake?” Bucky eyed a bloody gash on Jake’s eyebrow, “when did you guys get back?”

Jake gave a casual shrug and checked his phone, “I don’t know, five minutes ago?”

“Oh, okay…” Bucky reached for his phone, but found his screen void of notifications. If you landed five minutes ago with your trainee safe and sound, why didn’t you send him a message? It was out of character for you. 

“Well, where’s your partner in crime? Or crime fighting, I guess,” Bucky tried to joke, but his tone was strained. He eyed each person who came around the corner, hoping to find your face. “Did you see which way she went?”

“Nah, she’s not here,” Jake was scrolling through Instagram, only half paying attention.

Bucky’s disappointed sigh left his chest deflated, empty. “Oh, did she say where she was going? Or when she’d be back?”

Jake pulled his focus from his phone and stared at Bucky with confusion on his face. His brows pulled together, his mouth hung slightly ajar. But finally, he made sense of Bucky’s words. “OHHH, okay, my bad- I think there was a miscommunication just now.”

Bucky sighed again- this time, with relief. 

“Yeah, no, she’s not here,” Jake continued, “because she didn’t make it back.”

Bucky’s ears started ringing. 

The sharp, piercing sound blocked out voices. Footsteps on the tile. Maybe Jake was trying to speak to him, but Bucky heard only the shrill sound of shock. Seconds later, his nerves fell numb. The utter absence of sensation disconnected him from his body. He was lost in a liminal atmosphere with no stability, no purchase. His entire being was shutting down, one sense at a time.

Bucky told himself to focus, to compute what he’d heard. He did his best to make sense of Jake’s words, but to no avail. His mind simply couldn’t understand the phrase “she didn’t make it back”. The words had shed their meaning entirely and sounded foreign to Bucky as they rattled around his skull. Goosebumps rose over the surface of his skin, and a cold sweat created a sheen across his face. He feared he might get sick. 

“I- I’m sorry,” he forced himself back into his body, back to the present. “I don’t think I understand.” 

“Things got pretty hairy- this was not the easy mission they said it would be,” Jake scoffed and rolled his eyes. “It’s not fair, I definitely got a way harder assignment for my first mission than all the other new agents, and I think it’s-” 

Bucky’s glare could’ve sliced Jake in half, “get to the point.”  

“Right, um,” Jake continued, “I told her over comms that I was leaving. I gave her plenty of time to meet me at the jet, but she didn’t answer. And she never came outside.” He shrugged, “I had to leave for my own safety.”

“So, you just-” Bucky felt himself losing his grip. “You left her there? Alone?” He didn’t realize he was shouting, didn’t realize he’d drawn attention to himself- until Agent Hill showed up.

She placed a light hand on Bucky’s tense shoulder, but instantly withdrew. He was shaking, practically vibrating under her palm. “Is there a problem here, guys? I don’t want-”

“He left her behind,” was all Bucky could manage.

Maria stared at Jake in disbelief, “you did what?”

A strange mixture of rage and heartbreak seethed behind Bucky’s eyes, “You don’t just abandon your partner-”

Jake’s attitude disgusted Bucky. He was detached, irritated. He rolled his eyes like an insolent child. “Relax, man. Jesus Christ, this isn’t the army. I didn’t promise to ���leave no man behind’ or whatever-”

Bucky had heard enough. He lifted jake by the collar of his shirt, twisting the material in his metal fist. Jake’s head sent a sickening thud resounding through the space as Bucky forced him against the nearest wall.

“What the fuck?” Jake squirmed in Bucky’s grasp, “There are casualties in the field all the time, why am I being punished for-”

Bucky released Jake at once, sending him crashing to the floor. 

His voice was quiet, hollow. “Casualties?” He swallowed hard, “Is she-”

Jake shrugged at he rubbed at the bruise forming on his neck. “I don’t know, I assume so. I didn’t stick around to find out.” 

And just like that, Bucky was gone. 

He took off down the hall, forcing himself forward as a soul-crushing panic swallowed him whole. No matter how many times he blinked, no matter how fervently he shook his head, he couldn’t rid his mind of the picture Jake painted for him. Each time he shut his eyes he saw you- alone. Your bloodied, broken body laying collapsed against a wall of a Hydra base. Your skin slick with blood. Your skin cold. Void of life. 

He moved quickly, but not quick enough. He simply couldn’t outrun the familiar feeling closing in on him. His heavy, well-worn cloak of grief wound its way across his shoulders and twisted itself around his neck. He knew the suffocating sensation all too well. It weighed him down but couldn’t dampen his pace, nothing could; not when your life hung in the balance. 

He was too well acquainted with loss by now, too familiar with mourning. There’d been a time when he wondered if he’d ever grieve again. He’d lost his family, his friends, himself- what else was there? What more could he possibly lose? But the moment he met you, he knew he’d one day mourn again. He just didn’t realize that time would come so soon. 

A startling cold prickled at his skin, his lungs refused to inflate. How much time did you have left? How long would it take him to get to you? Were you even-

Hill’s voice yanked him out of his spiral, “Barnes, hey-” She made a grab at his shoulder, but her feeble attempt was no match for Bucky’s pace. “Where are you going?”

“To get her back.” Bucky’s tone was firm, resolute. He was going to bring you home or die trying.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Hill nearly tripped over her own feet as she tried to keep up with Bucky’s long strides. “You heard what Jake said, it’s a dangerous location- more dangerous than we thought. I think it might be best to wait it out for a few days, let things calm down and then-”

Bucky turned suddenly, stopping Maria in her tracks. “I’m not just going to leave her there.”

Maria shrunk away from the fierceness in his eyes, “I know you’re upset, but she might not be-”

“I don’t care.” His gruff tone dissolved, making way for the fear he’d so desperately tried to hide. “Whether she’s alive or-” he couldn’t bring himself to voice the alternative. 

Bucky knew what it was like to be assumed dead. He knew what it was like to be left in the field. 

“She deserves to come home,” he said.

Maria couldn’t argue with him. 

“Round up as many members of the med team as you can and have them meet me in the hangar. We’re leaving in ten minutes- sooner if we can.” Bucky turned and resumed his previous path, “I’ll be in the armory.”

Bucky grabbed as much weaponry as his duffel would carry without splitting at the seams and made his way to the hangar. He hoped to find ten, maybe fifteen members of the medical team waiting for him on the jet. He wasn’t sure of your condition, didn’t know how many breaths you had left. He wanted to give you the best possible chance at surviving the onslaught you endured. 

But when he turned the corner into the hangar, he found only three scrub-clad bodies. 

“Is this it?” Bucky boarded the jet and dropped his bag to the floor. He eyed the scant amount of medical support, their uncertain expressions. His hopes of bringing you home alive dwindled.

A nurse who’d stitched Bucky up more times than he could count gave him a nervous smile. “The med bay is swamped, the team could barely afford to let us come with you.” 

Bucky didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t want excuses or rationalizations. All he wanted was to bring you home with your heart still beating. And three medical professionals, he decided, was better than none. 

The flight to your location only gave Bucky more time to worry. He obsessively checked his weaponry, hovered over the med team’s supplies. But no amount of double and triple checking could save him from the spiral. He traveled down the path of every possible “what if?”, leading him only to heartache. No matter where he searched, he couldn’t find a positive outcome. And though he didn’t want to acknowledge the odds, he knew yours were slim- impossible, even. 

And as the jet grew closer to your location, Bucky steeled himself for what he knew he’d find: you, his best friend, his reason for living, his everything- dead. Cold. Lifeless. None of the horrors he faced in the past could compare; no pain could ever be greater. Bucky knew he’d hurt for the rest of his life.

The clouds parted as the jet began its descent. Slowly, a large stone building appeared out of the fog like a monster in the horror movies you loved so much. It stood in an otherwise empty clearing, its shadow looming over the dying grass. Smoke billowed from holes in the roof, the walls. Whatever happened here was catastrophic. Disastrous. 

Bucky’s heart sat lodged in his throat as he imagined you trapped in there. Goosebumps rose over the surface of his skin as he stared at the looming structure. He had to get you out, even if he died trying.

Just before the jet touched down, an idea popped into Bucky’s head. It scaled the high walls he’d tried to erect to protect himself from thoughts of your demise and grabbed him by the throat. It was smart- brilliant, actually. He was shocked he could even think straight given the circumstances.

“FRIDAY,” Bucky called out, “is comm 1209 working?” He shoved his own comm in his ear and waited for a response. 

“Comm 1209 is on and in range,” Friday said. “Would you like me to connect you?”

He couldn’t say yes fast enough.

A few staticky clicks and pops vibrated against Bucky’s eardrum as his comm connected to yours. But he was too scared to speak. What if you didn’t answer? What if he heard you take your dying breaths? Just the thought was enough to make him sick.

He owed it to you, though, to at least try. He’d always said he’d do anything for you, that he’d risk it all for you- and he meant it every time. If reaching out to you over comms exposed him to something horrible, something traumatic and unforgettable, at least he tried. At least he attempted to keep his promise. And after everything he’d been through, what was one more life-shattering, soul-crushing nightmare?

“H- um…” Bucky swallowed the large lump obstructing his throat. “Hello?” He waited a moment, holding his breath the entire time, and tried again. “Hello?”

He waited. 

No response.

“Doll? It’s me. It’s Bucky…” 

The dead silence on the other end of the line dragged on. It seemed like his words disappeared into the air, unacknowledged. Unheard. Maybe the sound of his voice was reverberating inside your ear as you lay dying. Or maybe he was talking to your corpse.

 The thought made him nauseous.

“Please, sweetheart. If you’re there- if you’re able- just say one word. Say anything,” he pled. A long bout of silence followed.

He clenched and released his metal fist again and again, desperate to rid himself of the panic settling into his bones. He was stupid to think you survived, stupid to let himself be optimistic. He made it here as quickly as he could, but he couldn’t save you. He was too late. 

He wanted to take one of his many weapons and turn it on himself. 

But a small sound stopped him.

“Buck…”

He almost fell to his knees. At the sound of your voice, an overwhelming warmth banished the cold that infiltrated his bones. Against all odds, you were alive.

A deep sigh of relief seeped from Bucky’s lungs, “Sweetheart…” 

A hurricane of emotion rattled against the storm doors inside Bucky’s mind. He couldn’t stop thinking about the ‘almosts’. How he almost lost you, how you almost died alone in a Hydra base. But he couldn’t allow it to swallow him- not yet. There was no time for a breakdown. He needed to move, he needed to get to you. 

He shrugged off the grief that rested heavy on his shoulders and swallowed the impending sob that vibrated inside his throat. “I’m here- I’m gonna come get you. Just tell me where-”

A staunch refusal came from your end of the comm, “No- no…” You took a sharp, rattling breath, “no way.”

Bucky didn’t like the way you had to fight to get your words out. You were clearly struggling, doing everything in your power to stay on this side of consciousness. He wondered how much time you had left.

But still, there was a familiar strength to your voice. Maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe it was the renewed hope of rescue; something was keeping you alive. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart, just tell me where you are. The jet just landed. I’m gonna get you out and-”

“I said- I said no,” you breathed. “You can’t c-come in here, it’s too dangerous… we were a-ambushed.”

Even in your condition, even when Bucky was your only hope of rescue, his safety was your first thought. You’d rather die alone than put Bucky’s life at risk; the thought made his cheeks pink and filled his chest with a fuzzy warmth. But he didn’t have time to enjoy the feeling.

“If you don’t tell me where you are, I’ll just sweep the whole building,” Bucky said, using your worry against you. “That means more opportunities for me to run into Hydra operatives. More time inside the base- it’ll be way more dangerous.” He could practically see you rolling your eyes, “so it’s probably better if you just give me a direct route, don’t you think?”

Bucky smiled to himself as he envisioned you on the other end. He was certain you were arguing with yourself, cursing his rationale. 

He waited for you to come at him with a sharp retort or a sarcastic quip but heard nothing. The silence on your end of the line dragged on. And on. It lasted far too long for Bucky’s comfort. Surely, you couldn’t still be thinking about his proposition? He’d given you more than enough time to make up your mind, more than enough time to come up with a response. It was time you didn’t have. 

What if you’d fallen unconscious? What if, in those quiet moments, your soul vacated this earth?

Bucky couldn’t take it anymore. He disembarked the jet, resolving to search every inch of the base. But just as he reached the dark, unsettling building, you spoke.

“F-fifteenth floor. Northeast… northeast quadrant,” you sighed, defeated. “There’s a- a room at the end of this hall, I think it’s maybe an office?” Again, you took a long pause. The energy required to think, to speak, was energy you didn’t have. “Just f-follow the trail of blood.”

Bucky’s breath caught in his throat. He shuddered at the thought of your blood leaving a path down the stark white, sterile hallways of the base. But he didn’t have time to focus on anything other than getting you out; this was a rescue. He owed it to you to keep his head level. To focus on getting you out as quickly as he could. 

“The power is… it’s out”, you said. “You’re gonna h-have to take-” 

Bucky wanted to save you from wasting any extra energy, “The stairs. Got it.” 

And while he normally didn’t mind getting a few extra steps in, he knew the time required to climb fifteen flights of stairs would push the limits of your survival. 

But he pushed the ever-encroaching sense of doom to the side and put on a brave face for you. For himself. “Okay, I’m coming to get you,” he promised. “Stay awake, and don’t move.”

“As if I h-have a choice,” you laughed a breathy, hollow laugh. A long groan followed. 

Your pain radiated through Bucky’s chest. He didn’t want to climb stairs or scour hallways- he just wanted to be there. To instantly materialize at your side. To bring you instantaneous comfort. He lamented the super soldier serum’s lack of teleportation abilities. 

“You know what I mean, doll. Just stay awake, okay?” Bucky drew his gun and stepped inside the building. “Don’t fall asleep. Do anything you have to do- just stay awake. Can you keep talking until I get there?”

“W-what am I…” You let out a raspy exhale, “supposed to talk about?”

Bucky cleared a long hallway and found the stairwell, “Anything, just keep talking.”

Another extended silence filled the air; it nearly drove Bucky crazy. Your silences held limitless possibilities, horrifying ‘what ifs’.

“It w-wasn’t supposed to be… to be like this,” you finally said. “It wasn’t supposed to be this dangerous. This was Jake’s first mission- it wasn’t f-fair to him.” Heartache coated your every word. Even after your partner abandoned you, even after Jake forced you to suffer and bleed all alone- you still sympathized with him. Still felt sorry for him. 

Bucky felt no such thing.

“I know, doll. Keep talking, okay?”

You sighed. “We s-split up for recon… that’s when they- when they came at me.” Your next few breaths were so shallow, your lungs barely inflated; the lack of oxygen left you dizzy. A thin veil of glittering spots sparkled and danced on the edges of your periphery. “It all h-happened so fast… there were so many of them. I just- I remember pain. And I hoped Jake was okay, w-wherever he was.”

Your heart was too good for this job. For people like Jake. Bucky admired your kindness, your empathy, your selfless nature. Even in the face of pain, of death- you thought about others. You often told Bucky how unfair life had been to him, lamenting his treatment at the hands of fate. Bucky found himself doing the same for you and your kind heart.

“I called out for h-him, I needed backup… I kept asking him to come help me-” A sharp cough rattled out of your throat. 

Bucky cringed at the sound. It was the only sound in the building. He hadn’t heard anyone else. Hadn’t seen one Hydra operative- at least, not a live one. He came across their bodies every now and again but didn’t see a single living soul. He was sure they deserted after the explosion. Just like Jake. 

The destruction, however, was everywhere. Bullet casings littered the floor. Blood stained the tile floors. Fluorescent lights flickered overhead. He had to get you out of here.

“But he n-never answered. And then he told me he was leaving. He said he was- he was outside already. He gave me n-ninety seconds to meet him at the jet…” Your words were tinged with devastation, with hopelessness, with betrayal. “I tried- I did my best to make it down the stairs. But I was- I was dizzy… I was b-bleeding.” The memory stung like your fresh wounds. “I kept slipping on- on my own blood. I just c-couldn’t move fast enough. It hurt too much.”

Wrath burned inside Bucky like a raging forest fire. But his utter heartbreak doused it completely, extinguishing the rageful flames. He found himself unable to think, to breathe. It took everything in him to keep moving forward. Who could ever leave you behind like that? Who could ignore your suffering and sentence you to death without a second thought? The image of you stumbling, struggling to run for your life gutted him.

“And then- and then I heard the jet t-take off,” you sighed. “And I listened as it got farther and farther away… until it was g-gone. And I was- I was alone.”

He thought of you sitting alone in cold silence as the noise from the jet quieted. As your hope dwindled. The entire base must’ve felt like a tomb, like a massive, lonely grave meant just for you. 

Bucky almost fell to his knees. Sobs throttled the inside of his chest, begging for release. Tears burned inside his lash line. Jake didn’t just leave you behind, he marooned you without care. And in his departure, he sealed your fate. 

“I d-didn’t have a way to call for… for help. My phone was on the j-jet with jake.”

The sorrow that stained your words was all too familiar to Bucky. It was the same hopelessness that accompanied him every day that he was at Hydra. When he laid in the snow for hours upon hours after falling from the train. He never wished that kind of despondency, that kind of  misery on anyone. And knowing that you, the person who deserved it the least, experienced it for even a moment shattered him.

“I realized I… I didn’t h-have any options,” you breathed. 

A collapsed column blocked Bucky’s path as he tried to make his way from the sixth floor to the seventh. The concrete was too high, too precarious to scale. If he tried to climb it and got hurt, it would only serve to diminish your chances of survival. And he wasn’t willing to risk that. With a huff, Bucky exited the northwest stairwell in search of another route. This was a waste of time- time you didn’t have. 

He painstakingly checked every hall until he finally found another stairwell. His breathing came a little easier as he rocketed his way up the stairs, growing ever closer to you.

“So, I found this- this room. It’s quiet. It’s out of the w-way. I needed somewhere to hide. S-somewhere to…” A small crack of emotion cut through your voice, “somewhere to die.”

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that Jake got to return home safe and sound while you struggled to stay alive. It wasn’t fair that you had to seek out your own deathbed. Bucky wanted to scream, to break things, to spill every last drop of Jake’s blood. But he was a soldier, and this was a rescue mission.

“This seemed like as g-good a place as any,” you choked on a weak laugh. “Beats dying in the middle of a h-hallway, I guess.”

Bucky’s automatic response was to swear that you’d make it out. To promise that you weren’t going to die. But he bit his tongue. He couldn’t make those kinds of assurances. He’d do anything to bring you comfort but swearing that you’d return home alive seemed almost cruel. 

He pushed himself to move faster. He couldn’t let you die alone, especially not in this godforsaken place. As he sprinted up the last flight of stairs and ripped open the door to the fifteenth floor, he struggled to orient himself. You were in the northeast quadrant, but where was he? He searched for anything to indicate his location- but found no signage. No directory. 

Everything inside of him rattled with dread, with anxiety. Any moment now, you were going to die. You were going to take your last breath. All alone. A thick, suffocating wave of panic crashed over Bucky as he realized- you were going to die disappointed. You were going to leave this world knowing that he hadn’t gotten to you in time.

It was then that he noticed a faded arrow painted on the wall, with “NEQ” painted below it in block letters. Northeast quadrant. He was closer than he thought.

“I’m gonna be there in just a second, doll,” he said as he followed the arrows.  “I think I’m right around the corner.” 

This was just his way of making you feel better, you were sure of it. The hallways were long and winding. Each floor was a maze of its own. Even with your vague instructions, it could take him a while to find you. Still, Bucky’s words brought you comfort in the way that only he could.

“I know, I t-trust…” A metallic taste filled your mouth. A warm ooze trickled down your chin and dripped onto your chest. The warm, fuzzy feeling brought on by Bucky’s assurances faded. Of course, you knew you were in bad shape. But as blood leaked from your mouth, you wondered if these were your last moments.

Instantly, you searched for the words to say goodbye to Bucky. Time was slipping through your fingers, life draining from your body with each passing second. But before you drifted off into a never-ending sleep, you had to tell Bucky what he meant to you. You’d use all your strength, your last few breaths- whatever it took. He just had to know. 

But how does one say goodbye to a soulmate? You didn’t have the energy or capacity to make a grandiose speech. And the blood filling your mouth impeded your ability to speak. You wanted to tell bucky everything- how he comforted you, cared for you, made your life worth living. How your life revolved around him as though he were your personal sun. But nothing quite encapsulated the things you felt for him. Every word in the English language, every sonnet fell short. And the lack of oxygen getting to your brain sabotaged your phrasing.

“Buck, I think it’s… I think it’s almost t-time,” you rasped.

But just as you opened your blood-stained mouth to proclaim every feeling you ever had for him, the door flew open. Alarm coursed through your veins at the threat. Surely, a Hydra agent had stumbled upon your hiding place and was here to finish you off. The severe blood loss was no match for your training, thought. And, on instinct, you pulled your gun on the tall, dark silhouette standing in the doorway.

“Woah, hey!” Bucky raised his hands in surrender. “It’s me, it’s just me.”

At the sound of his voice, your arm fell limp. Your gun clattered to the floor. Your head lolled back against the wall. It had taken everything in you to try and protect yourself one last time. And now that your energy reserves were nearly depleted, you allowed your eyes to close.

“S-sorry…” A barely-there smile pulled at your lips. “My… my bad, Buck.”

“No, don’t be sorry, doll.” 

Bucky knelt in front of you, taking in your broken, bloodied body. He’d seen carnage before, witnessed more death than anyone should. But this, you- it was different. It hurt in places he didn’t know he had. But he didn’t let it show. Knowing you, you’d spend your last few moments comforting him, trying to make him feel better. And so, he forced a warm smile and tabled his breakdown for the moment.

“I’m actually impressed. I mean, you might be hurt, but you were ready to take me out just now,” he forced a chuckle. “That’s my girl.” His cool metallic hand brushed against your blood-stained cheek. 

And in that moment, something within you changed. Your eyes shot open. You blinked a few times before forcing your eyes shut once again. You gave your head a few good shakes. Surely, this wasn’t real- it couldn’t be. 

You opened your eyes wide once again, taking him in. “Bucky?”

With one shaking hand, you reached for him in the most pathetic attempt he’d ever seen. You were weak, dangerously so; it scared him to his core. But you were alive. 

He leaned in, meeting you in the middle, and let you stroke at his stubble for a moment.

“Yeah, I’m here,” he kissed your palm. “I’m so happy to see you.”

“You’re…” you other hand reached for him, but made it only a centimeter or two before falling into your lap. Bucky opted to take it in his. “You’re here?”

He nodded, “I could never leave you behind, sweetheart.”

He may have continued speaking after that, but you didn’t quite hear him. The emotion you’d tried so hard to swallow came bursting forward, crushing your every attempt at remaining levelheaded. Your fingers smoothed over Bucky’s cheek again and again. His name fell from your lips in what resembled a prayer. Tears rolled down your cheeks and mixed with the blood crusting over your skin. 

A soft, warm wave of peace rolled in, covering you like a well-loved quilt. The pain disappeared; the sorrow evaporated. All that remained was Bucky. This was the warm spring that followed a dark, bitter winter. The first rays of sun after a vicious storm. The first taste of home after a long time away. You let the familiar warmth of Bucky’s presence drown out the rest of the world until only you two remained.

“Sweetheart, did you hear me?” With a gentle squeeze of your hand, Bucky called you back to the present. “I need to look at your wound, okay?”

A sharp rush of pain nearly blinded you as you lifted your shirt, exposing the bloody mess. But even as Bucky appraised the gunshot wound that turned your abdomen into horror scene, you couldn’t find it in you to worry. Your hands lazily found his shoulder, his chest, his face; you just wanted to touch him. To know, without a doubt, that he was there. That he was real.

“Hey, we… we need to t-talk,” you whispered as Bucky did his best to quickly bandage your wound for transport. “I n-need to talk- to talk to you…”

Bucky nodded, “sure thing, doll. Absolutely. We can talk about whatever you want. But right now…” he returned your shirt to its rightful position and met your gaze. “Right now, I need to get you out to the jet, okay? We can talk later.”

He guided your arms around his neck, lifted you into his arms, and moved as fast as he could through the winding hallways. His quick gait set your nerves alight with pain. Every bump, every jostle had you gasping for breath. And though it was a necessary evil, the guilt still sat in Bucky’s stomach like a rock. His repeated ‘I’m sorrys’ were nearly constant, doubling with your every grimace and groan. But he couldn’t slow down, couldn’t let the time slip away; you didn’t have much left.

Between pained sounds and twisted expressions of discomfort, you said the same thing on a loop. Again and again and again, you pled with him, using energy you didn’t have. 

“We need to… to t-talk.”

“I h-have to tell you.”

“Can I talk to y-you about- about something?”

And though Bucky would’ve loved nothing more than to have a long heart to heart with you as you two often did, you weren’t strong enough. He couldn’t let you waste your finite energy on a conversation with him. And so, he responded to each of your requests with an ask of his own, begging you to save your strength. He promised that the two of you could talk tomorrow, that there was plenty of time for a conversation later. 

But ‘plenty of time’ almost seemed like an empty promise. And ‘tomorrow’ felt like a lie. Would you have a ‘later’? He didn’t know. But he didn’t want you wasting your oxygen, not when he feared it might be your last breath.

Boarding the jet with you alive in his arms almost felt like a win to Bucky. Almost. Sure, he’d gotten you out with your heart still beating, but your condition worsened by the second. And the grave looks the med team wore as Bucky gently rested you on the treatment table dug a deep pit in his stomach. 

They sprang into action, placing IVs and delivering medications. Scissors glided through your shirt and exposed your broken body to the med team. Bucky knew they’d seen their share of gnarly injuries over the years, but he swore that they recoiled at the sight of your wounds. 

With a shake of his head, Bucky refocused. He had to get you out of there- to get you home. He headed for the controls and planned to set the jet in motion. But he made it only a step toward the cockpit before a hand caught his.

“S-stay…” you whispered. “Please.”

His heart shattered. “I’m not leaving you, doll, I promise. I just have to get us in the air, okay?” With great care, he placed a kiss to your hand and set it at your side. “I’ll be back in just a minute.”

Bucky’s body operated on muscle memory alone as he initiated take off. His mind was occupied, completely and totally, by the sound of your weak voice begging him not to leave. The sound played on a loop inside his brain, cutting him deeper each time. You’d already been abandoned once today; he was certain you feared it would happen again. 

With a deep breath and a quick reset, Bucky did what he had to do. He needed to be on his A-game for you, needed to be his very best. Only a few hours ago, you’d trusted someone with your life, and they failed you. Bucky wasn’t about to do the same. He worked carefully to chart the fastest route back to the compound, opting to forego FRIDAY’s proposed path. It kept him from your side longer than he would’ve liked, but less time in the air seemed like the best option. The sooner he could get you to the med bay, with its massive, brilliant medical staff and unlimited resources, the better. 

Just as he finalized the flight plan and asked FRIDAY to notify the med bay of your impending arrival, an unsettling sound pulled his focus. It was an ominous beeping, alarming your care team of a sudden, life-threatening change. 

Gloved hands moved at lightning speed; voices yelled medical jargon back and forth. And you laid there on the table. No heartbeat. No respirations. Deathly still. 

Bucky stood on the periphery, too horrified to get any closer. 

He thought it best, of course, to stay out the med team’s way. But knew deep down it was an excuse. He was simply too terrified to lose you. If he got closer, if he saw you struggling to stay alive, all of this would suddenly become real. And he couldn’t handle that. 

“Barnes!” A nurse screamed at him, “did you hear me?”

Bucky forced himself back to the present. “No… I, um-”

“She has no pulse- get over here, we need you to do compressions!”

Bucky’s desperate need to help you, to save you, overpowered his fear. And in an instant, he was at your side. He loomed over you, his hands locked together, preparing to help resuscitate you. But once again, his fear reared its ugly head. You were already so badly injured, so weak. And he was far too strong. What if he made your condition worse? What if he-

“Come on!” The nurse yelled at him, “start compressions- now!”

He did as he was told. He pressed into your body with a measured pressure, careful not to crush your chest. But his cautious compressions didn’t cut it. The nurses instructed him to push harder. To “actually compress” your chest- and Bucky followed instructions. 

But as he did so, a sickly snapping sound exploded from your body. Bucky recoiled instantly; his face contorted in horror.

“What are you doing? Keep going!”

“I can’t- I think I broke her ribs,” Bucky shouted at the doctor. “What do I do?”

“Keep going!” The nurse yelled, “It happens- just keep going.”

Bucky broke out into a cold sweat. His stomach turned at the thought of hurting you, of causing you even more pain; you’d been through enough as it was. But he did as he was told. With each round of compressions, he swore he created new fractures. He felt every splinter, every crack as he put pressure on your chest. 

He wanted to sever every last nerve-ending in his hand; anything to rid him of the sickening sensation creeping through his palm. But if doing this saved you, it was worth the nightmares.

He watched as the two nurses provided your supplemental breaths and tended to your endlessly bleeding wound. The doctor called ‘clear’ every so often, shocking you with a defibrillator in an attempt to restore your heartbeat.

Round after round of compressions, breathing, and shocks passed by without signs of improvement. You remained lifeless, unresponsive. A syringe of epinephrine delivered straight to your chest did nothing. And Bucky felt what little hope he had slipping through the cracks in your ribs. He couldn’t believe he was about to lose you; couldn’t believe he’d have to watch you die. Hot tears blurred his vision and streaked down his cheeks. His legs went numb. At any second, he knew his knees would give out, knew he’d crumble to the floor under the crushing weight of grief.

The doctor deemed the next shock your last, and Bucky almost doubled over. 

“Come on, doll, just-” He swallowed a sob, “just stay. Stay. Do it for me, I’m begging you. Please?”

The doctor called one last “clear” and delivered your final shock, only to be met with the rhythmic beeping of your heart monitor.

“Sinus rhythm restored,” announced the nurse to Bucky’s left. She appraised the waves on your EKG and gave a nod. “She’s stable.”

After what felt like an eternity, Bucky took a breath. He stretched his tense fingers and did his best to  relax the rock-hard knots forming in his shoulders. A new crop of hope bloomed cautiously inside his chest, but he couldn’t allow it to blossom and flourish just yet. You weren’t out of the woods; there was a very real possibility that your heart might stop again. And he wasn’t sure how many times the doctor could revive you before throwing in the towel.

Less than a minute after Bucky’s cautious optimism sprouted anew, a soul crushing sight dashed it completely. A sharp gasp filled his lungs, a shudder rocked his frame. Shades of deep, dark blue bloomed under the skin of your chest. Black and purple splotches stained your sternum. Some spots were already starting to swell. He extended a hand in your direction but recoiled in an instant, fearing he’d hurt you yet again. 

“Happens all the time,” one of the nurses said with a shrug. “Believe me, broken ribs are the least of her worries.”

Somehow, her words didn’t make him feel any better. He ached to hold your hand, to sweep a gentle caress across your cheek. But he didn’t dare touch you after what he did. Every glimpse of your bruised, swollen chest sent bile rushing into his throat. 

The three dedicated members of the med team worked tirelessly for the rest of the flight. They did everything in their power to keep your condition steady, to maintain the life they worked so hard to save. It brought Bucky comfort to see them staying so close, ready to jump into action if need be.  

Bucky, like the med team, hovered. He couldn’t bring himself to leave your side. You seemed too fragile, your condition too tenuous. He counted your every breath, took stock of every beat of your heart on the monitor. Stepping away for even a second felt wrong. He needed to be there if you crashed again, if the doctor needed extra hands. He needed to be there to help.

And if you woke up, he wanted to be the first face you saw. 

But you didn’t wake. A groan here, a muscle twitch there- that was all you could spare. And though Bucky wanted nothing more than to see you open your eyes, he thanked the universe for keeping you unconscious. He knew tsunamis of pain rippled in the wings, waiting to overtake you the second you woke.

Bucky held his breath as the jet landed. Every jarring bump, every vibration, forced his heart into his throat. He feared that even the slightest impact would send you into cardiac arrest. He flicked his eyes from the rising and falling of your chest to the rhythmic flashing of your heart monitor and back again. Nothing changed, no alarms sounded. And when the jet finally stilled, Bucky breathed a deep sigh of relief. He just needed to get you to the med bay for treatment, and this whole nightmare would be over. 

He didn’t like being optimistic. It felt like a set-up, like false hope. If he told himself you’d survive and you didn’t, the fall would be that much harder, that much more devastating. 

But being realistic wasn’t any better. Telling himself that you were too far gone, that you weren’t going to make it, felt wrong. To him, it seemed like he was cursing you. Like willing your death into existence. Like begging the universe to end your life. 

And so, he opted for a neutral mantra. “She’s home,” he told himself. “She’s home. She’s home. She’s home.”

The distance to the medbay felt longer than usual. The hallways seemed to stretch on forever, the double doors to the triage center seemed to grow farther and farther away. Bucky followed your gurney closely, only allowing a few inches of space between the two of you. He couldn’t be separated from you again. He wouldn’t. He needed to be with you every second, watching over you. 

A dark cloud of impending doom loomed over his psyche. It whispered to him, telling him that if he left your side, if he let you out of his sight, you’d die. You’d be gone forever. And it would be his fault. He knew it was nonsense, that this was just his anxiety operating on overdrive. But he couldn’t shake the fear. And risking it wasn’t an option.

“No visitors past this point,” a security guard placed an arm in front of Bucky as he tried to enter the triage unit.

Bucky tried to go around the man, watching as the medical staff carried you farther out of reach. “I’m not a visitor, I’m an agent-” 

“No agents past this point, then,” the guard rolled his eyes. “Only patients and medical staff. You can have a seat over there.”

A small table sat against the wall, flanked by two chairs. It was a sad, makeshift excuse for a waiting room that operated as a device to keep people from hanging around. But bucky couldn’t be discouraged. He took a seat in one of the chairs, determined to wait there as long as he had to. He knew he’d missed a number of important phone calls by now, and probably several meetings. But he didn’t care; all that mattered was you. 

Dread circled Bucky like a buzzard as he waited. It was taking too long- why was it taking so long? How much time did the medical staff need? You were stable when the jet landed, the nurse said so. Why were there no updates? All Bucky needed was a nod, a bit of information. But he remained in the dark, wondering if you died on the operating table.

Maria found Bucky slumped in a chair with a zombie-like air about him. He was expressionless, his gaze hollow. His palms traced the same track up and down his thighs in a never-ending cycle. One look and she knew: something was very wrong.

“Hey,” she called softly, hoping not to startle him.

But Bucky didn’t respond- he didn’t even react. He just sat there, his unblinking stare burning a hole in the tile. An uneasiness enveloped Maria. She’d never seen Bucky so empty, so despondent. As she stared at him, she found herself fearing the worst. ‘Maybe he just received terrible news’ she thought. ‘Maybe he’s grieving’.

“Hey,” she tried again, nudging her foot against his. 

He came back to life with a start. A sharp inhale filled his chest, his eyes blinked wildly. But his palms never stopped moving in their endless cycle against his tactical pants. And he never actually looked at her.

“Hi…” he breathed. 

Hill took the seat opposite him. She conjured the gentlest, warmest tone she could find, “is everything okay?”

Bucky balled his hands into tight fists and stretched them out again. Maria noticed blood- your blood- crusting under his fingernails and staining his skin. But before she could get a good look, he grabbed the arms of the chair. His palms rubbed fervently against the plastic handles for a moment until they moved to his face. He ran his hands along his jaw, his spiky stubble poking into his skin.

“Barnes, what happened? Are you-”

Finally, his head snapped in her direction, “I can still feel it…”

“Feel what?”

Bucky’s head fell into his hands. He pressed his palms against his eyes and dragged them down his face. Maria watched him fall apart in slow motion. He seemed to be unraveling, one cell at a time. And when he finally spoke, shame made his words almost unintelligible. 

“She crashed on the jet…”

“Oh...” Maria did her best to keep a calm, even tone. Her concern for you vibrated in her chest, but she didn’t dare let it free- not when Bucky was moments away from a meltdown. “Is she-”

“The med team needed help. There weren’t enough of them- they needed me to do chest compressions,” Bucky said, his voice low. “And I broke- I crushed her ribs.” 

A sharp shudder rocked his entire body. Just thinking of that moment, when his too-strong hands destroyed your chest, was enough to make him sick. To scar him for life. To haunt him. Of all the horrible things he’d done in over the years, this was the worst. He gave his hands a quick shake, hoping to rid his nerve endings of the sensation.

“I felt her bones snapping under my hands,” Bucky’s words dripped with shame. “And I can still… I still feel it.”

“Okay,” Maria said gently. “Well, if she-”

“She was already in such bad shape,” Bucky swiped a tear from his cheek. “And I… I hurt her. I made it so much worse.” 

His head fell into his hands once again and did not reemerge. 

“Hey, look at me,” Maria gave his arm a gentle touch. 

Bucky only shook his head. 

“Come on, Barnes, just look at me for a second.”

Again, he refused. 

Maria abandoned her chair and sat instead on the small table. She never got this close to Bucky. Usually, she preferred to give him his space. He wasn’t the touchy-feely type- unless you were around. But he was lost in a shame spiral, adrift with no hope of return. And he needed rescuing. She placed her hands on his and gently removed them from his face. 

“You saved her life,” Maria said. “Twice. You rescued her from the base, and when the med team needed help, you came through.”

“But I-”

“Did it work?” Maria asked, her tine almost stern. “Did the chest compressions work?”

Bucky nodded. 

Maria gave him a shrug, “That’s all that matters. She can recover from a few broken ribs, but if you hadn’t been there-” 

Bucky averted his gaze as his eyes filled with tears. 

“Hey,” Maria grabbed his face, bringing his focus back to her. “If you hadn’t been there, she’d be dead.”

Maria’s words fought hard against the demeaning voice that lived inside Bucky’s head. It screamed at him, telling him that he shouldn’t believe her, that he was a monster, that he almost killed you. Usually, Bucky allowed his inner demons to run free. He listened to them without pause, believing anything and everything they told him, no matter how vile. But Maria was steadfast and unshakable in her sentiments; she truly believed what she was saying. And by some miracle, Bucky did, too.

“Thanks…” He granted her a hollow smile and a small nod. 

Hill sat in silence with him for a few hours. She didn’t try to make small talk or ask what was going on inside his head. She simply existed near him, sharing the space so that he didn’t have to be alone. She ignored important texts and sent every call to voicemail. She knew it was exactly what you’d do for him, if you were able. And she did her best to fill your shoes.

Abruptly, Bucky’s head snapped in her direction. His pulse thrummed against his skin as a new wave of anxiety crashed over him. “She kept saying…” he sighed. “She kept saying we needed to talk. She wanted to talk to me about something.”

Maria cocked her head to the side, “About what?”

He shrugged. “I told her we could talk later because there would be plenty of time,” Bucky’s words grew shaky. He found himself near tears for what felt like the millionth time that day. Guilt sucker punched him. “What if… what if there isn’t more time for us? What if that was all we were ever going to get? What if-”

“You’ll get more time,” Maria said with certainty. “The universe has a way of evening things out. You were robbed of time once; it won’t happen again. Plus, you’re deserved some fucking karmic retribution- you’re owed this.”

Bucky wondered how she could be that sure of something so ethereal. But she was steady, solid as a rock. She didn’t waver in her words or add caveats at the end. She, somehow, knew it to be true. And Bucky couldn’t help but believe her.

But when Fury called her for the eighth time, she knew quiet time was over.

“I have to go, okay? Fury can’t do anything without me, he’s hopeless.” She stood from her seat and rested a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “Call if you need anything.”

Bucky thanked her a million times over and, for the first time, gave Maria a hug. She would never know how much her reassurances helped him. She’d pulled him from the ledge and gave him what he desperately needed: perspective.

In the hours that followed, he let her words play on a constant loop inside his mind. “If you hadn’t been there, she’d be dead,” he heard her say. “You’ll get more time.” The sickening feeling of your bones snapping under his strength never faded, and the fear of losing you still had him in a chokehold, but Maria’s words quieted his mind. 

In the sad, empty waiting room, time seemed to mutate. Some of the hours dragged, others whizzed by. Bucky wasn’t sure how long he’d been there. Was it ten hours? Or twenty? He didn’t really care. He’d wait lifetimes for you. 

He saw the security guards change shifts once, twice. It was the only thing alerting him to the passage of time, as part of him believed it was standing still. On the third shift change, they told him to go home. 

“They’ll call you if there’s an update”, said one of the guards. “It’d probably be a good idea for you to go get some sleep, or something.”

Bucky knew he looked like hell. Your blood left crimson streaks across his face and neck. And the dark circles he usually wore under his eyes were a deep shade of plum. But he couldn’t leave, he couldn’t sleep. Not when your life hung in the balance. Not when you needed him. 

A few more hours passed with no news, and Bucky found himself teetering on the edge of insanity. An angry, desperate voice bellowed inside his head. It told him to bust through the doors and find you, no matter what it took- even if it meant hurting people in the process. The gun secured to his hip and the knife strapped to his ankle became eerily attractive. His hands itched to reach for the weapons, to hold someone at gun point until they allowed him to see you. But he couldn’t to give in to the fear, to the violence. It took him years of therapy and long talks with you to stop seeing himself as a monster- and he refused to destroy the progress you helped him make. 

A doctor stepped out of the double doors and looked in Bucky’s direction, “Sergeant Barnes?”  

Bucky was on his feet before he knew what hit him. This was it. After what felt like an eternity of not knowing whether you lived or died, he was about to have an answer. Sweat dampened his palm, his brow as he stood in front of your doctor. 

He didn’t know he was even capable of this kind of fear, this kind of agony. And though he was an impossibly strong physical specimen, Bucky knew he’d never be able to lift the weight of the grief that followed your loss. He knew that, if you died, he’d spend the rest of his life dragging himself from place to place, unable to stand, unable to push back against the overwhelming, oppressive force of losing you. 

Your doctor spoke quickly and professionally about your condition, but the words turned to mush the second they reached Bucky’s brain. The combination of medical jargon and pure panic made their meanings imperceptible. But one phrase managed to cut through the fog of Bucky’s anxiety and exhaustion: “you can see her now.”

And just like that, Bucky took off. His fatigued body did its best to carry him through the halls, stumbling every now and then on the smooth tile of the hospital floors. But he didn’t dare slow down. He had to get to you. 

By the time he reached the door to your room, he found himself shaking- almost shivering- with anxiety. He knew you were alive, of course. Knew that the doctors had been successful in saving your life. But something in him doubted their handiwork. Something in him swore that if he didn’t get to you in the next half second, you’d flatline. Again. 

He could practically feel his brain rattling around inside his skull, his teeth chattered against one another. And the sharp tremors in his hands made it nearly impossible to get a grip on the door handle. Panic and frustration coursed through him as the he tried again and again to gain entry to your room with no luck. A strangled sob forced its way out of his chest and caught the attention of a nurse- one of the nurses who helped keep you alive on the jet. 

“Hey…” Her eyes drifted to Bucky’s shaking hands. “Need some help?” Before Bucky could answer, she’d abandoned the medication she was prepping, discarded her gloves, and made her way to his side.

“Here, let me.” Her soft, sympathetic tone was almost too kind; Bucky’s eyes blurred with tears. She turned the door handle and gestured for Bucky to go inside.

His “thank you” was for more than just the door. 

Bucky took a few steps inside and drew in a sharp breath; he’d never seen you in such severe condition. Over the many hours that Bucky waited for you outside, all of your bruises grew darker, more menacing. They stained your throat, your face, your arms. He didn’t even want to think about the ones on your chest- the ones he caused. Dried blood crusted in your hair and formed a path down the side of your face. It sat caked under your fingernails and rested in the creases of your palms. Thankfully, your gunshot wound was covered by gauze and concealed by your gown. But knowing it was there was enough to make Bucky sick. He, of course, witnessed and inflicted, his fair share of carnage over the years. But he knew your wound would haunt him for years to come- simply because it was yours. 

All he wanted was to be near you. To sit at your bedside and hold your hand. But he didn’t dare to get any closer. Electrodes attached a dozen wires to your chest. IVs sat lodged in the crooks of your elbows, in the backs of your hands. Machines and monitors kept track of your vitals. And who was he to disturb this fragile, vital ecosystem? What if he accidentally pulled out one of your IVs? What if he detached a wire by mistake? He’d already hurt you once today, he wasn’t about to do it again. 

He, instead, opted to stand at attention. A few feet away. For your safety. He didn’t touch you, didn’t even say your name. He simply stared at you, counting your every breath. 

An hour- or maybe two- passed by with him like this. Nurses checked on you, doctors poked their heads in. And every time, they told him he was permitted to sit by your bedside. But he just shook his head. Sure, slipping his hand into yours, being close to you- it would provide him with incomprehensible comfort. But he couldn’t, not when you were so severely injured. 

After the third hour, Bucky feared his sanity was slipping. A wicked voice lodged deep in his psyche suddenly awakened. It whispered to him, taunted him. Maybe this was all a dream. Maybe he was asleep in the waiting room. Maybe you didn’t survive. Maybe…

And he would’ve believed it, had you not snapped him out of the vicious spiral. 

“Buck?” He feared he’d never hear you voice again, but there it was. Hoarse and weak- but yours.

Bucky flew to your side. He cradled your face gingerly in his hands, completely consumed by the need to touch you, to feel you, to know that you were real. His palms laid flush against your cheeks, his thumbs sweeping over your skin. And in an instant, the sickly sensation of your snapping bones vanished.

A hurricane of tangled thoughts and emotions crashed over him. He had so much to he wanted to say, so much he wanted to confess to you. But the words refused to arrange themselves properly. Suddenly, Bucky wished he’d used his ample time in the waiting room to better organize his thoughts. He wished he’d sought out a pen and a scrap of paper and used them to plan and articulate his sentiment. But even if he’d found the supplies he needed, he wouldn’t have been able to jot a single thing down. Not with his shaking, unsteady hands.

Anxious words and broken sobs got stuck in his throat and formed a garbled, unintelligible mess as they left his mouth. But it was the best he could do. He stared at you, waiting for your response.

“I, um…” you looked at him for a long moment. The haze of head trauma, blood loss, and pain killers made you foggy. You did your best to trace your steps back through Bucky’s words, certain that your condition was the cause of your confusion. But after a significant pause, you came up empty. “Sorry, I- what?”

Bucky slid one of his hands into yours and gave a soft laugh. “Sorry. I tried to say-” He sat quiet for a moment. What had he tried to say, exactly? He wasn’t sure. With a small shake of his head, he re-rerouted. “Um, it doesn’t matter. Here, how’s this:” He cleared his throat and spoke with the sharpest pronunciation possible. “How are you feeling?”

Your laugh- Bucky’s favorite laugh- bubbled up to the surface. But regret swallowed you whole as pain shot through your head, your chest, your side. The hurt radiated through your entire being. It rendered you breathless, and left your face twisted in an agonized grimace.

Bucky didn’t like how long it took you to recover from the small chuckle you shot his way. A pang of worry shot through him.  “Don’t exert yourself, okay?” He swept a thumb across your cheek, “you don’t wanna tear your stitches or...” He cleared his throat, “aggravate any, um, broken bones.” Bones that he broke.

“No, I’m…” you squeezed your eyes shut for a long moment before opening them again. The pain slowly receded. “I’m good, I’m okay. I just- breathing is hard. I forgot how shitty it feels to have broken ribs.”

Bucky nodded. His teeth sunk into the smooth flesh of his cheek. A metallic taste coated his mouth. He didn’t want to tell you the truth. Didn’t want you to know that he was the cause of your severe pain. But you deserved to know, didn’t you? With a deep sigh, he opened his mouth, intent on telling you what really happened. But you cut him off. 

“Thank you, Buck. For coming to get me. I really thought I was…” Hot tears stung your eyes and blurred your vision. “I thought that was it for me, you know? And I just want you to know how-” you sniffed, “how grateful I am.”

Bucky left your side for only a second, retrieving a box of tissues from the counter across the room. He was back in no time and swept a tissue across your cheek to catch your tears.

“I know we always say that we have each other’s backs but you… you meant it,” you said. A small smile pulled at your lips, “thank you for meaning it.”

Bucky nodded. He did his best to keep his breathing steady, to stop himself from falling apart at the seams. He knew exactly what it felt like to be left behind, to wait for your last moments- alone. 

“I wasn’t gonna leave you there, doll. I couldn’t.” 

You gave a small nod. “Yeah, I- I wish my partner had felt the same way…” The hurt in your voice was unmistakable. It sliced though Bucky’s chest. “I didn’t think he would ever do something like that. I mean, I thought we were friends.”

The mere thought of Jake brought a familiar rage to the forefront of Bucky’s mind. He didn’t understand how anyone could be so callous, so uncaring- so indifferent to the well-being of others. The part of him that swore off unnecessary violence remained quiet as the rest of him imagined Jake’s demise. He wanted your disloyal partner to suffer. To squirm and squeal and regret that he ever left you behind. But that could wait- you were the priority.

“Yeah, I didn’t expect him to be that kind of person,” Bucky sighed, “he seemed like a stand-up guy.”

Silence filled the room as you thought over Jake’s desertion. His abandonment hurt. It stung in places you didn’t expect. You’d taken Jake under your wing and did everything in your power to be the best leader possible. All you wanted was to help him. To set him up for success. 

And after working alongside Bucky for so long, you’d forgotten that disloyalty to one’s partner was even an option. 

“He probably panicked,” you tried to rationalize. “And then once he realized what he’d done, maybe he…”

There was no rationalizing this. 

An ugly realization slithered into your mind. “After he left, I think he probably hoped I’d just die… that way I wouldn’t be able to give my side of the story.” The weight of Jake’s actions hit you like a train. Rivulets of warm tears rolled down your cheeks, only to be swept away by Bucky’s gentle hand. With a small shake of your head, you did your best to banish the feelings of abandonment and betrayal. Wallowing would only make you more miserable. And you didn’t need emotional pain on top of the physical agony that already plagued you.

“Well, joke’s on him,” you shrugged, “cause I’m still alive.” Pain radiated through your chest, bringing a grimace to your face. “Kind of.” 

Bucky didn’t understand how you could just dismiss the bad feelings. Couldn’t understand your propensity for levity. Your partner left you for dead without a second thought- and yet, you found a way to joke about it. It was something he’d always admired about you, something he wished he was capable of. 

You gave a strained laugh, “I can’t wait to see the look on Jake’s face when he finds out that I didn’t die.”

Bucky wasn’t sure what prompted him to say it. It left his mouth without his brain’s authorization.

“But you did.”

He wished to take the words back, but it was too late. They hung in the air, just out of his reach. 

“I…” you struggled to grasp Bucky’s words. “I what?”

This was not the time- or the place, or the way- to tell you the truth. But he didn’t have a choice. His clumsy words made his bed, and now he had to lie in it. 

“You, um…” Bucky didn’t want to think about what happened, let alone say it out loud. But he owed it to you to be honest. Especially after Jake had lied to you about being a trustworthy partner. Bucky scratched at the stubble on his face, ran a hand through his hair. Anything to delay the inevitable. But he couldn’t put it off for long. “Your heart stopped- you died. On the jet.”

Only one word fell from your lips, “Oh…” 

“And while I’m at it, I might as well tell you that…” Bucky took a deep inhale. He was in too deep now. And keeping this from you any longer felt like lying. “That your ribs are broken because of me.”

A quizzical look crossed your face, “what do you mean?”

“I mean… the med team was short staffed on the jet. There were only three of them. And when you crashed, it was- it was an all hands on deck situation.” He flashed back to the moment when the alarms sounded. When your EKG flatlined. A shudder ran through him. “They needed me to do chest compressions. And I- I didn’t want to hurt you, but the nurse said I wasn’t pushing hard enough to actually help you. And when I pushed harder- I broke your ribs.”

Bucky searched your face for something- anything. Anger. Fear. Betrayal. But he found nothing. Your expression was as neutral as they come. He feared that something lingered just below the surface. That once you fully processed his words, you’d erupt into a perfect storm of disgust and disappointment.

He told himself to wait silently until you made up your mind. But the outburst exploded from his lips before he could stop it. “I’m sorry- I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You know I’d never want to hurt you, I would never do anything to hurt you. But I… they told me I had to push harder. Or it wasn’t going to work. And I just wanted it to work, I wanted you to be okay, and-”

It took almost all of your strength to raise your hand and place a finger to Bucky’s lips. He fell silent.

“Buck, it’s okay.”

He tried to form a rebuttal, but you cut him off. 

“You didn’t have to rescue me, but you did. No questions asked, no hesitation. You saved my life by getting me out of there. And you saved me again by helping the med team.” Your hand drifted from Bucky’s face and landed in his palm. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Bucky didn’t say anything else. His fingers traced gentle patterns on your palm. His eyes fell downward. You could almost see the shame eating him alive from the inside.

 “Hey,” you intertwined your fingers with his. “I can handle a few broken ribs.”

“No, I- I know you can. I just…” A sad smiled flickered across his lips. “I feel terrible. You went through a lot. And I just don’t like knowing I made it worse.”

A long silence filled the room. You’d seen this side of Bucky more times than you could count. And you knew him well enough to know what followed. He was going to feel bad- terrible, actually- about this for a while. There was no accelerating the process or absolving him of his guilt. No amount of reassurances could save him from it. He just had to sit with it. One day, the weight would diminish. But it was going to take time. And that was okay. 

You gave his hand a squeeze. “I thought your voice was a hallucination, you know.”

Bucky lifted his head.

“And when you came into the room, I actually thought that was a hallucination, too.” A smile stretched across your face, “I mean, I thought I was losing my mind.”  

Bucky gave a half-hearted chuckle. He didn’t want to think about you in that room by yourself. About you struggling to tell what was real.

“But then you touched me…” You raised your hand and brushed it across your cheek, mimicking him. “And that’s when I realized that you were real- that you were there.” You fell quiet for a moment, lost in the memory of Bucky’s rescue. “It was like, in that moment, I wasn’t scared anymore. I wasn’t scared of the pain. I wasn’t scared of dying. I was just scared that…”

“What?”

“You have to promise not to laugh,” you told him with an authoritative tone. “Cause I know it’s corny, or cheesy, or whatever.”

“Sweetheart,” Bucky drew an X over his heart. “I’m not gonna laugh at you.”

You stared at him with narrowed eyes, sizing up his promise. But, of course, you knew Bucky would never tease or ridicule you about something like this. 

“Okay, fine, I um… I was scared that I’d never see you again. If I died, I mean.”

Bucky’s lungs emptied. He couldn’t remember how to breathe, how to speak. A sudden ache ripped through his heart as it splintered and shattered into a million pieces. To know that you thought of him in what you believed were your last moments somehow ripped him apart and put him back together all at once.

Your voice cracked. Tears filled your eyes. “I was afraid that we’d already run out of time. I was afraid that we weren’t going to get any more.” A few soft sobs escaped from your throat, followed by a pained groan. But you pushed passed the throbbing in your chest. “But I was so relieved. Because I got to see you one last time. It was the most intense sense of peace I’ve ever experienced.”

Bucky struggled to hold on to his composure. He felt himself crumbling, weakening under the weight of your words. 

“But then I realized- I realized I’d never get to tell you. And you kept saying we could talk later, but I didn’t know if there would be a ‘later’. And when I blacked out, I was so full of…” You shook your head ever so slightly, sending a few tears dripping onto your cheeks. “I had so much regret. Because I needed you to know.”

“To know what?” Bucky leaned in close, searching your face for any inkling, any clue. “Doll, it’s ‘later’. Tell me- whatever it is. You can tell me now, it’s-”

Your lips met his in a soft kiss. In it, everything you’d ever felt for him came rushing forward. Admiration. Longing. Lust. Obsession. Adoration. Love. 

A sting of pain jolted through you as your split lip brushed his, but you didn’t care. His hands found your face, your fingers curled into the collar of his shirt. It was always supposed to be this way. 

When the two of you finally separated, Bucky simply stared at you. He didn’t move, he didn’t speak. He wasn’t sure he knew how. 

“I love you, Buck. I’ve loved you- for so long.” A huff left your chest, “So. Long.” 

Still, Bucky remained silent. Nerves began crawling through you like vines, twisting their way through every fiber of your being. But you owed it to yourself, and to Bucky, to tell him the truth. 

“And I just… I know how you see yourself. And I know you don’t think you’re even worthy of my friendship, let alone love. But I was so anxious, cause I thought you’d never know the truth. I thought I’d die without getting to tell you. And you’d live the rest of your life thinking that you’re not worthy, that no one could ever love you. But I- I love you. I just needed you to know.”

The silence made your ears ring. Bucky’s face still wore a mask of bewilderment. And you feared you’d ruined everything. 

“You don’t have to say it back, though,” you said. “I’m not gonna stop being your friend if this is an unrequited thing.”

Finally, Bucky came back to life. He rolled his eyes and let a scoff escape his lips. He leaned in close, the tip of his nose almost brushing yours. “Unrequited? I broke every SWORD rule and policy. Abducted medical staff. Stole a jet. And went on an unauthorized mission. All to get you back. I didn’t even know if you were alive, I just- I had to bring you home.” 

He closed the small gap that remained between your face and his and granted you warm, gentle kiss that tasted like home. “I did all that- and you thought there was even a chance that I didn’t love you back?” Bucky gave a playful roll of his eyes, “you don’t know me at all, sweetheart.”

You returned his eye roll. "Well, you're a really great friend to me. And you always have been. So, I didn’t take a rescue as a proclamation of love,” you gave a strained chuckle. “I just thought-”

“I’ve loved you for…” Bucky thought back over the course of your friendship. The day you first met, the first time you helped him through a panic attack, the time he made you the ugliest cake in the world for your birthday. He saw his life in two parts: before he met you and after he met you. And he so preferred the after. 

“I don’t even know how long,” he shrugged. It was almost automatic. His feelings for you didn’t need a slow, gradual build up. They descended upon him all at once, like the world’s most beautiful avalanche.  “It’s been a long time- an embarrassing amount of time, probably,” he laughed.

“Oh, so we’re both cowards then,” you shot him a wink. “Too afraid to tell the other how we feel.”

Bucky nodded, “It seems that way…”

“But you weren’t too scared to steal a jet and run into possible gun fire?” you quipped.

“Nope. Didn’t even think about it,” he said matter-of-factly. “I just wanted to find you.”

You’d never experienced a love- a commitment- like that. It sent a rush of warmth into your cheeks and somehow eased the pain plaguing your body. You knew in your heart you would’ve done the same for Bucky without a second thought. But knowing that he was so fiercely determined to bring you home felt almost unbelievable. You had the proof, though, right there in front of you. This man, who you loved, loved you too. And loved you enough to risk his life for you. It wasn’t something you’d ever ask him to do, and you knew you’d never have to. He’d do it without hesitation. Without reservation. He’d walk through fire for you if it meant bringing you home. 

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

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[tim-shii]

hi! just found your acc and i just want to say i absolutely adore your work first off. you bring my wife (aventurine) to life beautifully.

saw the as a boyfriend and oh my GOD the part about him getting anxious over reader speaking with ratio? so good. i need jealous pouty aventurine. and honestly might be a bit ooc for ratio but i think he’d encourage it just to get under aventurine’s skin tbh.

up to you though, i’d love for you to write a lil drabble or something of the sorts expanding on this, whatever you have the imagination to write.

that’s all~!

a/n: tysm ?! ure so kind im glad very happy !! that u adore my work 🫶 we have to make sure wife is loved always 🫡 here's jealous aven from this ; @svnarin proofreader !! (she told me to put it here)

cw: bf!aventurine, slight angst

“such lavish proposal. are you certain i am the person who should be hearing that?”

“absolutely. you’re the perfect person i should be consulting about it.”

aventurine is not a jealous person. he’s confident in himself, you had praised him several times of how much of an amazing person he is. jealousy means there’s a lack of trust between the two of you and aventurine doesn’t like that idea at all. he thinks that trust is a significant factor when it comes to relationships. he doesn’t keep secrets and even if he does, he’ll eventually open up to you after some time.

aventurine is a quartz-based gem stone. a stone that brings good fortune and helps you create your own luck. it’s also green. the same green in the monster’s eyes that’s currently chomping down on aventurine. he can’t help it! can he really blame himself when uneasiness swirls in his stomach after seeing you with dr. ratio?

out of everyone he gets jealous of, it just had to be him. veritas ratio. his good friend, veritas. the most logical man aventurine has ever known.

while aventurine is confident in himself, no doubt there’s a part of him that feels inferior to the doctor. the man has radiant violet hair that compliments the tone and structure of his face. he also has a slightly muscular build compared to aventurine’s more slender one. there’s a lot to compare and aventurine isn’t sure if he can even list it all out.

his brows furrowed, eyes dulling as his thoughts consumed him at once. what proposal? what’s that about? and perfect person? he doesn’t understand. are you leaving him? can he really not make you stay? was it something he did? something he said? but he can’t ask you those. because what if instead of an answer, he’ll be greeted with a farewell—

a flick on his forehead snapped him out of the daze. aventurine blinks back, now finding you in front of him.

“i was right. he was sulking.” he hears veritas quip.

“not sulking. more of, in a daze.” your fingers thread through his soft locks, aventurine hums at the affection, absentmindedly leaning his cheek on your palm.

“you give him too much credit. he’s probably wallowing in the sorrows of his mind for no apparent reason.” ratio snickers ever so quietly.

“or he could just be tired and sleep deprived.”

“or he’s jealous. he glares at me any longer, my skin will start withering and rotting.” for a doctor who has more than eight doctoral degrees, he can be quite the drama queen.

“goodbye, doctor. thank you for your opinion, i shall greatly treasure your wise words.” veritas only shook his head before slipping out the door. once he’s left, all your attention shifts to your boyfriend.

aventurine lets you sit atop his lap, gloved hands instantly finding home on your hips. for a moment, you both stare at each other in complete silence.

“spit it out. what’s wrong?” you spoke first.

aventurine sighs. “i didn’t like seeing you with him.” for all his life, lying came easy. with his good looks and charming personality, making people believe whatever he says is child’s play. but aventurine can never lie to you. he doesn’t have the heart to face you once you’ve realized he’s fooled with your thoughts.

you raised a brow in amusement. “so you were jealous?”

“no. i don’t get jealous.” he grumbles. “i just,” aventurine gazes at you with a fond look, an expression so serene and completely enamored. “i’m better looking than him, right?”

blood rushed to his cheeks when he felt your lips on his. his hold moved from your hips to your neck to deepen the kiss, left thumb caressing over your pulse. he chases your lips like an intoxicated man once you pulled away. only to be stopped by you leaning your forehead on his.

“the best looking man in my life and in the whole universe. my most beloved, too.”

“you flatter me.” he grins stupidly before pulling you in for another kiss.

likes and reblogs are appreciated! masterlist

[woso-dreamzzz]

Shirt

Zećira Mušović x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Zećira manages a miracle

It's a difficult situation to navigate.

For one, it's because the shirt you're currently wrinkling your nose at is a Chelsea one.

Everyone on the team knows of your hatred of Chelsea.

Truly, Zećira just thinks you hate blue. She's known you longer than most others on the team, remembering you as just that tiny little baby who cried when Pernille tried to leave you with Magda at camp.

You're still young, young enough at least to have fairly flexible opinions. Maybe it's not that you hate Chelsea but that you hate the colour blue.

Red is your favourite colour which is why you're attracted to clubs like Arsenal because of the red on their jerseys and rebuke clubs like Chelsea because of the blue.

"Blue is the opposite of red," You've told anyone and everyone on multiple occasions.

So, Zećira puts down your hatred of Chelsea to the fact that London is blue and you'd prefer it to be red instead.

Which is why this situation is delicate.

You stand in front of her, arms crossed over your chest with your little wrinkled nose.

Zećira holds a Chelsea shirt in front of you, waving it teasingly in your face.

"No," You huff," No! No! No! No Not-Wolfsburg!"

"Are you sure? It's got your Morsa's name on it?"

“Morsa’s smelly!” You declare,” And Not-Wolfsburg is bad!”

Zećira laughs, kneeling down at your level. “Work with me here, princesse. You don’t want to wear Magda’s shirt and you don’t want to wear a Chelsea shirt?”

You stick your tongue out. “Don’t like blue!”

“And you won’t wear Magda’s Sweden shirt?”

“Smelly Morsa!”

That’s a new thing you’ve been going through, calling Magda smelly at any and all times that you can. You heard it off Pernille, kind of.

A few weeks ago, Magda left her smelly football socks and boots around the house when she came home from training. Pernille had gone straight to the nursery, to pick you up from one of the few days that you went in so she hadn’t seen it until she got home, tripping over one of the boots and then slipping on the socks.

She’d complained they were smelly and that Magda was smelly after she found out that Magda had gotten straight into bed without washing off all the sweat from the day’s training.

You’d parroted back her words and Magda could now hardly appear in your vision without you calling her smelly.

Zećira sighs, pulling the shirt back.

“You have to wear a jersey if we’re going to train,” She reminds you and you huff.

“I know! A different one!”

This is where Zećira gets a bit crafty with it as she pulls out a second jersey.

It’s a Chelsea one, that’s for sure but it’s very much not blue.

You eye it warily.

“It’s mine,” Zećira says, showing you the back with her name and number.

“It’s Not-Wolfsburg,” You reply bluntly.

“Yeah, it’s Chelsea,” Zećira admits,” But it’s not blue and it’s not smelly Magda’s.” She waves it in your face and you slowly reach out.

You withdraw your hand quickly though and eye Zećira wearily.

“You won’t tell? I’m not a Not-Wolfsburg fan. I don’t want to make Wolfsburg and Arsenal feel bad.”

“I won’t tell,” Zećira promises and you nod, finally taking her shirt.

You pull it over your other t-shirt and Zećira grins.

She’s pretty sure she’s witnessing a miracle, you wearing a Chelsea shirt. She also knows that she can’t tell anyone though because you’ll never forgive her and you’ll never wear any of her shirts again, let alone a Chelsea one.

You pull on your gloves, getting a little stuck with the Velcro but you manage.

You point a finger at her. “Can’t tell,” You insist,” Our secret.”

Zećira smiles, unable to stop herself from teasing. “Are you allowed to keep secrets from your mums?”

You purse your lips.

Technically, you’re not allowed to but it’s a bit like technically you’re not allowed to lie. You’re not allowed to lie but Morsa’s told you before that saying a white lie to save someone’s feelings is okay. Like how you should always tell Momma’s momma that her ugly floral shirt is pretty even though it makes you want to close your eyes and never look at her again.

You think this is kind of similar. Momma and Morsa might get upset if they find out you wore Zećira’s Not-Wolfsburg shirt so willingly. You don’t want to make them sad but you definitely don’t want to wear their Not-Wolfsburg shirts either because you just hate Not-Wolfsburg and everything it stands for. Admittedly, you’re not quite sure what Not-Wolfsburg stands for but you’re pretty sure you won’t like it either way.

“It’s only a little secret,” Is what you settle on telling Zećira,” So it doesn’t really matter.”

Zećira chuckles a little at you audacity but doesn’t argue, merely adjusting your gloves so they fit a bit tighter around your wrists and giving you an antihistamine to take to combat any reaction you’ll have to their latex.

“Alright,” She says as she leads you out of the house and towards the park,” Today, we’re going to work on your catching.”

[visionsofmagic]

day 3: fushiguro toji [size difference]

࿓ synopsis • you bet you can have toji raw & dry with only one go.

―❦ nsfw, pet names, a bit of daddy kink, rough!toji, humiliation, bet, brat!reader, roughness, raw, dry, big!toji & small!reader, f!reader, riding, swearing, inner speech [‘is all I believe] • 1.3k • I have never wrote for him but I hope it feels canon. also, I literally have a thing for menace characters. ehe. anyway, enjoy! [kinktober m.]

a deep chuckle comes under you, sending chills down your spine, making you want to hide your face from the owner of the sound ‘cause you can feel how he is teasing you, finding it entertaining how you try to sit on his thick cock even though the intense sensation coming from your tight pussy flows through your body, making you breathless because it’s too much. 

“toji –“ you say between your breaths, looking up to his face only to find him looking right back at you – well, he sees the most pathetic version of you but wasn’t this what you wanted? his expression says; wasn’t this what you begged for? silly girl, he said the moment you tried to say you can handle it – handle to take him dry, without any preparation. thinking she can handle it? cute. 

of course, you wouldn’t stay back, not after hearing all the stories about how it felt like euphoria and hell at the same time to have it dry, raw, in one go. you who believe you want it to be harder, rougher, deeper each time you have sex with toji directly went to him, saying how you want to try riding him but without foreplay. 

he laughed at you – in a such teasing way that your anger rose up, causing you to play the card he could never refuse; bet.

he agreed after a quiet time, but not because of the bet – the challenge, but for the chance to see you eat your own words and witness your struggle on his cock, and he was right, as always.

“what is it princess?” he mocks, teases – a bit of mischievousness inside his sparkling eyes looking up at your face full of tears – his cock isn’t inside you! “is it too much?” he enjoys this more than you do, apparently, because he is just lying on the bed, hands on the back of his head, staying behind him, and a smirk that screams how he has no desire to hide his enjoyment stays on his attractive face.

“fuck y –!”

“tch tch tch,” he shakes his hand to left and right, showing his amusement, “how nasty,” he looks at you with a new expression and you know that one very well – he is one step behind forgetting about the bet and fuck you the way he wants – not with the one you begged for. “but you disrespect me one more time and I will shove my cock right into that fucking tight pussy in one go.”

his treats only make you get wetter. you find yourself wanting him to do that – without leaving it to you, he should be the one who enters into you in one go ‘cause clearly, you can’t do it; it just doesn’t fit!

keeping your mouth shut, you place your left hand on his exposed biceps, the hotness flows from there to your palms as your other hand travels to your slit with the intention of fingering yourself a little bit so that he would fit – you can’t stay any longer. you need him inside you, right now.

however, toji gets what you’re doing. his bigger hand finds yours, caging it with his after pulling it to himself, making you fall into his chest, nose to nose – eyes to eyes. danger radiates from him as he speaks, “you wanted this slut, so, bear it,” his other hand positions on your waist, pushing you down; his cock’s tip enters into you, earning a low moan from you. “lower yourself down princess.”

he uses cute pet names but the eyes don’t lie – his eyes tell you that you should lower down or else the consequences will be really bad, so, you do what he tells you, lowering your body down inch by inch, realizing how it was a bad idea since you two have different proportions in terms of size – how dumb you were to think that toji’s, a man of twice the size of you, will go in that easily.

“fuck - ! agh, toji - daddy! ‘is too much!” you say, looking at the sight of your cunt being ripped off with his cock each passing time as it gets into you deeper and further.

he leaves your hand, touching your face instead and you can feel half of your face disappearing within it, “so the slut finally has a brain that works, huh?” he asks, “didn’t believe when I said it would be too much. a fucking dumbfucked woman who thinks she has the skill of surprising me,”

 he leaves your body entirely, leaving you surprised as he puts his arm on his eyes, closing them and saying, “get off of me. need sleep, not a dumb whore.”

you stay like that, not moving, not taking your eyes off, comprehending what’s happening.

his massive body doesn’t move an inch either, however, from the voices you hear, you can say he’s about to sleep – sleep?!, you ask inside your own head, heat rising up that comes from anger and disbelief. who thinks he is to leave you behind like this and go to sleep in the middle of the sex?!

the madness you have never had takes control of your mind and body in that moment after you realize he doesn’t give a fuck about you or the reason why you tried to do this – making him go crazy while you ride him raw and dry.

no logic side on the brain, not anymore, your hips move on their own, “fuck this shit,” you say and add before going further, “I will show you how this dumb whore will make you sweat.”

a scream comes from your parted lips, the burning sensation takes all the breath you have, the mind turns into dizzy, eyes half-closed yet see the man underneath you taking his arm from his eyes – well, half-closed eyes now, and ears hear the words he says, “fuuck –!”

even though your hips ache in pain, pussy is already on fire, and you throw your head back – such pleasure coming from both his situation and his cock that fills you without leaving any space, you moan his name.

it takes you a few moments to adjust it and move but you have no time; you have to provide that no one can fuck him like this.

hips move up and down, eyes now at his face, daring him to look away – to avoid your eyes; he accepts the challenge, hands are put on your ass, squeezing the flesh, breaths mix with each other and the only voices in the whole room are his swears, growls and even moans within your high pitched moans, the lewd sound of thick pussy hitting the pussy, balls following – everything seems so euphoric.

riding him with the help of him lifting you up and down in sync with your movements, you hear your own name on his lips. it’s hurt like hell to let him shove himself into you at the pace he wants to after you cum two times, the muscles begin to hurt, the mind goes blind from time to time, and keeping your words about how you can make him sweat, he finally takes the control; he hugs your smaller frame, rolling over so that you can be under him, he enters your now wider pussy one again but somehow, it’s still tight.

“pretty slut,” he says, hands staying on the sides of your head, his body covers yours, you feel vulnerable when you compare your small body with his yet it gives excitement when he turns your back to him, his chest touching you from behind, and his fingers open your folds apart, cock entering slowly, “did so good for me, now, let big daddy reward you, fuck that pussy ‘till it fits in one go. after all,” he says, pulling his cock only to push it in you with one go – so full, so filled. wasn’t he holding you from the abdomen, you would jolt into the bed. “it’s what my princess wants, right?”

❦ tagging: @lilvampirina ! thank u pretty!

[lustspren]

P.S.T EP. 12 | Love Language ft Ningning.

length: 12k words✦

Ningning & Male Reader

Special Guest: ITZY

genres: oral sex, dirty talk, ass eating, facetime sex, squirt, footjob, lesbian, butt play, sneaky blowjob/handjob, bit fluffy

✦✧✦✧✦✧

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Once again, the Miami morning sun filtered through the balcony window and filled your room with light. The shine was annoying on your eyes, but it was the perfect natural wake-up call for you to open them and look at the beautiful angel lying next to you.

Yoo Jimin was pure natural and ethereal beauty. You had read multiple times on different social networks that she looked like she was made by computer, and you had never understood those comments as much as you did at that moment when you saw her peacefully sleeping. You moved as subtly as you could to lean on one elbow and brush a strand of hair away from her temple. You brought two of your knuckles close to her cheek and rubbed it slowly; she shifted slightly, and grabbed you by your wrist so you could cradle that side of her face with your hand. You couldn't help but smile. She clung to your hand as if it were a teddy bear.

Of course the cute moment couldn't last too long. The doorbell of the suite and multiple messages on your phone snapped you out of your trance. You frowned, since it was fucking 7 in the morning. While you were reading the messages the doorbell rang a couple more times.

When you finished reading the messages you lowered the phone and found that Jimin was already beginning to open her eyes. She had the same annoyed expression as you as she rubbed her eyes.

"Well, I have to assume the deal between you two is over," you told her with a sigh.

You got out of bed, turned off the air conditioning, and reluctantly put on some boxers. You left the bedroom and walked through the corridors of the suite. The doorbell continued ringing, and you quickened your pace so that it would shut up once and for all. When you reached the door and opened it, all the girls except Noze began to enter the suite like raiders. Minjeong and Aeri passed you by without even saying hello, but when Ning did she hugged you around the waist and kissed your cheek to join the other two.

"Mother of God! This place is huge!" you heard Aeri say from behind you.

"I want to stay in a place like this too!" Minjeong protested as well. Ningning didn't say anything.

"Weren't there more subtle ways to wake me up?" you asked, looking Noze in the eyes. She didn't seem to care at all, "How annoying, damn."

"Aha whatever," she waved her hand and walked past you. You closed the door with a huff, "Today's breakfast and meeting will be here."

Just then Jimin also came out, wearing nothing but panties. She was still sleepy and her hair was a mess. She stood looking towards the balcony with a frown. Minjeong was looking at figurines on a shelf, Aeri was next to the coffee table, and Ningning was sitting on the couch. You could see in her face that she wanted to lie down and sleep too.

"Oh, can we all have breakfast naked then?" Aeri teased with a giggle, looking at Jimin.

"Go get dressed before room service arrives," Noze ordered, with a sternness that let you know she was in no mood for jokes.

You and Jimin went back into the bedroom and while you were in there you agreed to take longer on purpose. How did you do it? She gave you a quick blowjob, made you cum inside her mouth, and right after that was when you really started getting dressed. You came out and all of them were already settled at the table on the balcony. You took the free seats. Jimin to your left, Noze to the right.

That particular morning it felt like you were in hell itself. You didn't know how many degrees it was, but the sun stung your skin. You thanked god it wasn't right above your head, otherwise you would have been roasted alive. Luckily, the sea breeze counteracted the heat a little and kept you cool.

Noze began to detail all the activities scheduled for that day. You were all paying as much attention as you could, but it was evident on your faces that none of you had rested well enough to be fully operational at that time of the morning. As soon as she finished, seconds later room service arrived.

"Well? How were those nights?" Minjeong asked you, sitting next to Jimin, "I think I deserve to know the details, right?"

The hotel workers placed plate after plate on the table, which soon began to fill with food of all kinds. That made you remember the breakfast Jimin had made you eat the day before, and you had Vietnam flashbacks. Your gaze was lost looking at some boiled eggs with vegetables.

"We just bro'ed out, ate pizza and played video games," Jimin replied with a mischievous smile, "Nothing exciting, Minjeong-ah."

"Hey, hurry up and eat. It's getting late," Noze interrupted you.

"Mother of God, late for what," you said, wrinkling your forehead, "Not even the roosters have woken up at this point."

Noze glared at you, but the rest of the girls laughed at your joke. You, however, didn't find it so funny, you still felt exhausted from the day before and what you were saying was a real complaint. All of you finished your breakfast in a matter of about ten minutes. This time you didn't eat much; it was enough for you with some egg and cheese toast, and some cereal bars.

"Girls, go to the lobby with the rest of the staff so they can take you to the venue. They are already waiting for you," Noze told the girls.

All the girls obediently wiped their mouths with napkins and stood up. Jimin said goodbye to you with a couple of pats on the cheek. Ning gave you a kiss on the cheek again, along with a light caress on your chin. You could feel yourself almost melting at her soft touch, but you hid it as best you could.

"Did you have fun with Jiminie?" Noze asked you once all the girls left.

"Sex with her is fucking amazing, I'm not going to lie. But the best thing of all was feeling like she was just another good friend... I mean, I got to know her a lot better, and that was very valuable to me."

"Yeah," she nodded, looking out toward the open sea, "it probably doesn't show much on the outside but she's a very down-to-earth girl."

"You and her get along well, don't you?"

"She's the leader of the group I manage, silly, I have to get along with her anyway. But you're not wrong, she and I have formed a special bond over time."

“Um…” Noze knew what you were thinking, she laughed and tapped you on the forehead with her middle finger.

"I don't like her, idiot. And she doesn't like me either. In fact, she's told me more than once that she's not interested in girls, not in a romantic way at least."

"I imagine so. Dating restrictions only lead to them fucking each other."

"Mhum. But that can get out of control sometimes, that's why I have to keep them in line."

"And I'm the tool to do it huh?"

"Mmm, kind of, but you're not just a tool anymore. Those girls really like you, so it's up to you not to let them down."

"I have no plans to do so either."

"Cool,” she turned her gaze to you again, "Now, you have work to do."

"Which paparazzi needs to have their teeth broken?"

"All of them, but that's not what I want you to do. I need you to collect all the girls' luggage and leave them ready for the hotel check out."

"Oh, piece of cake."

"However, I have bad news for you," she said as you made a move to get up from the chair. You sat down again.

"What's the matter?"

"This morning my days of the month started. You don't need to be very smart to know what I mean. And I know the girls well enough to know that theirs is coming too."

"Oh, okay, but what's up with that?"

"Nothing. I just apologize in advance for any behavior you may have to bear over the next few days. Not just theirs."

"Nah, no need. I think I'm pretty tolerant."

"Alright," she nodded and stood up. You did too, "Oh, one more thing. After tonight's concert we're taking a bus to Atlanta. I booked a nice spacious one just for the six of us."

"Damn, that sounds great," you and her left the balcony and walked into the suite.

"Yup, we'll have a three-day break between tonight's concert and the next one. So if you want some time to yourself and grab some souvenirs, that’s your chance."

"Oh, great. Yuna will start crying if I don't bring her something," you let out a sigh, "Well, I have work to do, if you'll excuse me."

"Go ahead, and good luck. Who knows what you might encounter in those rooms," Noze turned around with a laugh and left the suite.

Of course you started with your and Jimin's luggage. There weren't many clothes scattered around the room, you had been as organized as possible and everything was perfectly in order. You just had to make the bed, leave everything as you found it when you first entered and get to work with the other rooms. You already had an order that you would follow, and since you knew Minjeong and what she was capable of, you decided to leave her room as the last one just so you could be mentally prepared for what you would find there.

You started in Aeri's room. It was frankly a disaster. There were clothes of all kinds everywhere: blouses, sweaters, pants and panties. The main place of concentration was around the bed. You picked up each piece of clothing and folded it as best you could to put it in the suitcases that weren't even completely unpacked. It was evident that with each passing day she only took out what she needed and survived that way. It didn't take you too long to gather her things and leave everything neatly packed.

Ning's room followed. Just as you expected, that room looked as if no one had used it in weeks. Everything was perfectly organized and clean. Ning's suitcases were neatly packed and organized at the foot of the bed. You noticed there was a small note on top of one of them. You went to pick it up and read it.

'Thank you for taking such good care of me, darling.

Love, Ning.'

You smiled from ear to ear, folding the note to put it in the back pocket of your pants. You made a mental note to spend more time with her over the next few days so you could thank her for making your job so easy. She was certainly a being of light who deserved all the love in the world.

The joy didn't last too long. The next room was Minjeong's, and you couldn't put it off much longer.

You were mentally prepared—or so you thought—, but as soon as you opened the door, what your eyes saw left you perplexed. There was a very stark dichotomy in the room, almost as if it had been cut in two and each half had been used by a different person. The suitcases were well organized and her bed was half made, which was appreciated. But the other side was an exaggerated conglomeration of sex toys of all kinds: dildos of all colors and sizes, vibrators, handcuffs—you had no idea she had any—, and even a pair of anal plugs that you didn't expect she had.

You stared at the sexual objects for a few long seconds without really knowing how to act or what to do. Hundreds of dirty thoughts ran through your head. One of them was Minjeong with her wrists handcuffed behind her back being fucked in her ass. Another was her sucking you off while she had one of those butt plugs buried in her ass.

You quickly came back to reality and set about gathering all the things the best way you could. Looking back you noticed an empty bag, you immediately assumed it was the bag she had dedicated entirely to her toys. You took it, put it on the bed and started putting things there. While you were doing it, you were surprised that one of the plugs was still warm and with a light layer of lubricant on top.

"This girl..." you murmured in disbelief, holding the plug by the edge so as not to stain yourself.

However, this was not the only thing. One of the dildos was also warm and wet with what you knew were Minjeong's fluids. You cursed her in your head. She had done it entirely on purpose knowing that you were going to collect the luggage.

As you put the dildo away, just like there was a camera in the room or something, you received a message from Minjeong.

You didn't even bother to answer, you just grabbed both toys to clean them in the bathroom and put them away with the rest of the things. With all the things ready, you prepared to make your way to the lobby, still with Minjeong's dirty thoughts running through your head non-stop. You had to make a little mental effort to get that out of your head. You thought about Noze looking at you with a look like she wanted to kill you, but that only made it worse. So you imagined your high school math teacher in a bikini. That was it.

When you arrived at the lobby you had to ask a couple of staff members for help to fetch a few suitcases that you left behind since you didn't have enough arms to carry them all, but soon everything was ready for check out.

With everything ready to go you had the girls' luggage begin to be loaded onto the big bus that Noze had booked. It looked like one of those buses that soccer teams used to go from one city to another, spacious, nice and modern.

You still had some free time to go to the venue, and remembering that the days of girls' month were approaching, you decided to run to the nearest store to buy them some things. You put your deepest feminine instinct into practice to figure out what to buy; in the end you decided on chocolates of all kinds, snacks, gummies, small soft stuffed animals and last but not least, pain pills—you had to ask the woman at the pharmacy which ones were suitable for menstrual cramps.

When you bought everything and went to the venue with the bags in your hands, you found that everything was absolute chaos. You rushed into the middle of the commotion to help with whatever you were useful for, and in the blink of an eye, the next thing you knew, there was a crowd outside eager to see their favorite girl group. The girls were ready to go on stage.

From that backstage area you could perfectly see the audience from the darkness, where the spotlights did not shine. You dedicated yourself to seeing as many people as you could, all of them with an emotion that oozed out of their pores. At that moment you thought about how truly blessed you were to be able to enjoy each concert from that position, and above all, because of the good relationship you had with each of them.

The days went by and you watched each concert until the end, but it never ceased to amaze you how Noze had everything running like a perfectly adjusted clock. The logistics were impeccable in every sense of the word. The costume changes were smooth; every emerging need of the girls was met almost immediately; the lighting never failed, and the sound was incredibly well mixed.

The concert came to an end, and soon everything began to be dismantled. You, Noze and the girls met backstage.

"Damn fucking mother Nature," you heard Aeri say to your left, with English and tone worthy of Mean Girls.

“I'm too bloated, oh my god,” Ning complained, pointing a portable fan at herself, “Please tell me I still looked pretty,” she asked you.

"You always look pretty baby, now go drink some water, please."

"I'm going to fucking explode," Minjeong growled, going to sit in a chair. Jimin sat next to her.

"Hey, at least it's not the worst that could have happened," you said.

"And what do you think is the worst that could have happened, genius?" Noze said, passing by you.

"I don't know, a space kitty invader could have come and devastated the venue. Come on, cheer up. Soon you'll be able to sleep comfortably."

Your words were intended to perhaps lift their spirits a little, and it seemed to work at least a little. Everyone's faces lit up and they looked at you with little smirks.

"He's right," Noze said, "All we have to do is get on that bus and sleep until we get to Atlanta."

"That sounds like a dream to me," Jimin sighed, "let's hurry up and get out of here."

For the next few minutes you dedicated yourself to being as helpful as possible so that the girls didn't have to do too much before getting on the bus. Once inside, everyone took advantage of the tinted windows to start changing into baggy and comfortable clothes. You did it too. You put on an adidas sports outfit; black tracksuit jacket and sweatpants along with your sliders.

"Girls! I have some gifts for you," you announced, taking the bags that until now no one had wondered what they were.

"A magic pill that will automatically eliminate the menstrual process from our body?" Jimin asked.

"I'm still working on it, I ask for patience."

You went through the seats and began to distribute everything you had bought. All of the girls had wide smiles forming on their faces. You distributed everything evenly, leaving some chocolates and snacks for yourself.

"Oh my god thank youuu!" Aeri squealed with excitement, grabbing her unicorn stuffed animal and hugging it. Jimin had a whale, Minjeong a Siberian husky, Ning a tiger, and Noze had a clown fish.

"This is so cute I might throw up," Minjeong joked with an adorable smile.

"Just wait for you to sit here. I'm going to kiss you like you've never been kissed before," Ning said from one of the wide sofa-like seats.

"Noze didn't pay you for this right?" Jimin laughed, opening a twix chocolate with her whale hugged to her body.

"As incredible as it may seem, no, I didn't," Noze replied, also with a little smile of disbelief.

The bus finally started, and everyone started eating many of the things you gave them. You had gone to sit with Ning, and just as she had promised, as soon as you sat next to her she wrapped her arms around your neck and kissed you multiple times on the lips and all over your face.

"You're so sweet," kiss, "and adorable," kiss, "and loving," kiss, "and wonderful."

She cupped both hands on either side of your face and looked at you with bright eyes. You were going to kiss her again until Aeri opened her mouth.

"Hey, I'm sorry to ruin your romantic moment," she apologized, "but can you come and massage my back and feet? Pleaaaase?"

"Fuck, I can't say no to that. Can I too?" Ning asked.

"Me too?" Jimin asked. Minjeong repeated the question. Surprisingly Noze too.

You had no choice but to agree to their requests. You went to Aeri's seat and started warming up your fingers before you started. Your specialty was doing massages, and this time you would do the routine you always did to loosen the muscles. Aeri melted into your hands, letting out long sighs of relief and taking deep breaths that you took as good signs; she even pulled up her baggy sweater so you had better access to her back muscles, which was really helpful. When you finished with her back, you knelt in front of her to repeat the process with her feet, which you noticed were incredibly tense and swollen.

As soon as you finished your work with Aeri you signaled Ning and Noze to have one of them come over since Minjeong and Jimin had fallen asleep before their turn. It was Ning who reached you first. You tried to work as quickly as you could, while still treating the two girls in the best way possible so that they could have a pleasant rest.

When the massages were done, you, Noze and Ning went to the sofa at the back of the bus where she was sitting. The space was very cozy, and it was an area of the bus—which in itself already seemed like a small apartment— where the air conditioning was colder and more pleasant. As soon as you placed your butt back on the padded surface you sighed and finally settled down to look at the layout of your surroundings. To your right was a corner sofa with a dining table. To your left, a small desk with an artificial campfire. In front you had a couple more seats, one on each side of a small table with a lamp and a television attached to the wall.

"Have you ever seen No Strings Attached?" you asked the girls.

They were huddled against you, Ning on your right and Noze on your left. Both hugged in your arms. They both shook their heads.

"Well, it will be your first time then."

You grabbed the TV remote and went to Netflix to find the movie. The three of you started watching the movie, but halfway through, Ning fell asleep. You noticed it from her adorable, subtle snores that filled your heart with tenderness. That left you alone with Noze. Once again.

"She snores like her stuffed animal would, she's so damn adorable," she said in a low, husky voice, followed by a giggle.

"Do you think she liked it?"

You had a hand placed on her thigh. You hadn't done it on purpose, just your hand ended up there, but she didn't say anything about it.

"Are you kidding? I haven't seen girls this excited and happy about something in a long time," she lifted her head from your shoulder to look at you, "It was a very nice gesture on your part, really, thank you."

You also turned your head to look at her. You met a pair of sleepy and somewhat shiny gorgeous eyes, but inevitably your gaze drifted to her full, red lips. She looked inexplicably beautiful like that, with her hair somewhat messy and dressed in that sweater that was twice her size. You were so, so tempted to make a move, but you held back.

"There's nothing to thank me for, it's my way of showing that I really love them."

"Does that include me?"

"Why, are you jealous?"

"No, it's just that you're looking to sleep in a hotel lobby when we get to Atlanta."

You couldn't help but smile. She really was jealous.

"Of course that includes you... Noze? I'm starting to not like calling you that, darling."

"Jihye," she finally said with an adorable smile, "Noh Jihye."

"Oh, so that's where the No in the name comes from."

"Aha, you're very smart, congratulations," she lay back on your shoulder with a giggle, "shut up and let's finish watching the movie, I'm exhausted."

The reality was that the movie hadn't even ended when she fell asleep, so you finished watching it alone. When the credits popped out, you turned off the TV and made yourself comfortable between the two of them, resting your head on Ning's and fell asleep just like that.

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You and Aeri woke up when you were passing through Cordele, but the rest of the girls didn't wake up until you were passing through Macon. Another hour passed when you finally arrived in Atlanta, straight towards your destination: the Ritz-Carlton hotel, a small but wide building in the middle of the city.

"Alright girls, you have a few days off to relax. Enjoy it," Noze announced as you arrived at the hotel lobby, which was honestly the most impressive to you yet.

"You still owe me a massage, don't forget," Jimin told you, she was walking in front of you.

"Aha, sure thing," you nodded, looking at the enormous heptagon of warm lights above your heads. The spacious reception in front of you.

"Hey, I'd like to have a few drinks with you one of these nights, are you up?" Noze told you, standing to your left.

"You don't even have to ask me. You know the answer."

She smiled and walked towards the reception as she watched you.

"Cool," she winked at you and prepared to say a few words to the receptionist, "Oh, and for the record!" She turned around to see you all, "You have free rein to do whatever you want, but if you are going to leave the hotel make sure you communicate it through the appropriate channels. Me, basically."

You stood waiting for a few minutes while Noze got you all the cards. As you did so, you all took the wide stairs that led to the first floor. That's where the elevators and the real hotel started, and also where you all parted ways to go to your rooms.

Your room was spacious and with good views of the rest of the city. The first thing you saw when you entered was the queen size bed with white sheets and pillows, and another long pillow but gray with white prints in the middle of them. In front of the bed there was a chest of drawers with dark varnished wood on the top and champagne-colored melamine on the drawers; two large ones on each side and four small ones in the middle. On the wall behind the dresser was the television, and to the left of it was also a small dark desk with a dark brown plastic chair. Finally, at the back of the room, right in front of the window, there was a large dark silver alcantara sofa with a small circular high table in front of it.

The first thing you did when you entered was take off your shoes and start unpacking all the things you knew you would use during those three days. After putting everything in the dresser and leaving your laptop and phone on top, you went directly to the bathroom to take a necessarily long shower. You came out again with the towel around your waist and went to check on your phone, finding that you had a message to read.

It was Lia. And when you read her name, a huge feeling of guilt attacked you for not having been able to pay attention to them. You immediately responded to her.

After having responded to Lia you decided to also write to the rest of the girls—all while you were in a towel in front of the widely open curtains where anyone from the building across the street could see you.

Of course, the first was Chaery.

Once you sent all the corresponding messages, you got dressed, turned on the air conditioning and went to close the curtains in the room. Then you grabbed your laptop from the top of the dresser and made yourself comfortable on the couch. You started watching Haikyuu, an anime that you wanted to start for a while but hadn't had time to. A couple of hours passed when you remembered that Rina still wanted that massage, so you picked up your phone and texted her.

When you received confirmation from her you closed your laptop, put your phone in the pocket of your sweatpants and went straight to Jimin's room. The door was open, and when you put your hand on the knob and opened it you found Jimin already lying face down on her hands. She was completely topless, but she was still wearing short sports shorts. You also noticed that her room was exactly the same as yours, only she had a view of the city that had the Oconee National Forest in the background.

"Straight to the point huh?" You teased with a chuckle, closing the door behind you.

"Kinda," she sighed, "my back is killing me."

"I think I have a solution for that."

You took your phone out of your pocket and climbed onto the bed with her to put it aside. Then you straddled her butt and did the same finger warm-up you always did.

"Fuck, you're heavy you know?" she complained.

"Do you want the massage or not, crybaby?" you rubbed your hands together quickly to warm them up and then placed them on her bare shoulder blades.

She was going to answer you, but she could only let out a sigh of relief as you started your work. Just like the rest of the girls, Rina had very tense muscles. You immediately felt empathy for her. Concert after concert doing the same show without proper breaks between them was certainly something that took its toll in the long run, and they had the bad luck that it just happened to coincide with their days of the month.

"What are you planning to do these days?" she asked you softly. She had her eyes closed.

"I have to catch up with Itzy's girls, I feel like an idiot," you sighed, massaging her lower back, "I'm also going out with Jihye for drinks, but I don't know when."

"Jihye?" She giggled, "So she told you her real name huh? You're one step closer to the wedding at this point."

"You're not funny you know?"

"I'm the funniest person you know."

"I don't know that many people, Rina," you moved back to her shoulders.

"That's already an achievement then. You like her right?"

You took more time to answer that question than you'd like.

"No," no matter how confident you sounded, you couldn't help but think you were lying to yourself.

"But you like Ning right?"

"Are you a detective now or what?"

"It's a basic question, are you afraid to answer it?"

"No, but I don't know what this interrogation is about."

"I'm just curious. Come on, tell me."

"I'm one damn step away from being crazy about her. And it's a fine line."

"Aw, that's adorable."

"It's not, I feel like an idiot every time she does something sweet for me or every time she talks to me like… god."

"Buddy, you're crazy about her."

"Please shut up," you said heavily. Rina could only laugh. But you weren't as cool about it as she might think. Chaery was still in your head, and with her were the words you said to her before the tour. At that moment you hated being a man.

"I mean, I don't blame you. She's a princess in every way possible."

"It is, but please let's stop talking about my love life. What do you have planned?" you finally moved to her feet.

"Oh, we have a girls' night planned today. Here, actually."

"Aren't you planning to go sightseeing?"

"I saw that there is a very nice botanical garden, it would be a nice place to go."

"There's also a zoo tho, and an aquarium."

"Right! That would be cool."

"I can go with you if you want, but let me see how the next few days go."

"That sounds like a date to me."

"We can go with one of the girls then, comedian girl."

"I wasn't complaining," she let out a small whimper when you pressed close to her thumb, but it was natural, "Hey, you said you felt like an idiot about Itzy's girls, why?"

"Because I've been neglecting them these days, and it feels bad because I know how much they appreciate me."

"Dude, you've done a wonderful job taking care of us. Besides, I know Yeji unnie well, she knows very well how demanding a tour is. She won't be upset with you."

"I hope so. I would feel terrible if she was," you now moved to the other foot. Another whine from Jimin.

"Well, if she gives you a hard time about that I can take care of her if you want," she said with a joking tone. You chuckled.

"Yeah, I'd appreciate it. By the way, give me details about the girls' night, I'm curious about it."

"Oh, nothing special. We'll just order junk food, watch a few movies, and talk about boys."

"Boys?" you laughed, “What boys, Yoo Jimin, you should lie better.”

"During these days of the month I become a little more girly, you know. And I think it would be rude to say that we are going to be talking about you."

"Wow, that's certainly reassuring."

"It won't be anything bad, don't worry. You've done nothing but be a wonderful guy for us."

"Just let me know if you need anything, okay?" With that said you released her foot to finish the massage.

"Yeah, I will," she answered you with a little smile, finally opening her eyes to see you, "Thank you for the massage, I feel much better."

"I'm glad to hear that, don't thank me. I'll see you later, Rina," you leaned forward, giving her a peck on the forehead and another on the cheek before standing up.

As soon as you left her room you checked your phone, finding that all the girls had already responded to you. It made you happy to see all their personalities captured in each word. You began to walk the corridor slowly while reading the messages from Chaery, who you started chatting with.

When you finished talking to Chaery you were already inside the elevator going to the floor of your room. Then you read the other messages, starting with Lia.

You weren't surprised by the fact that Ryujin responded with a photo as well. She was lying on her side, legs drawn up as she held a wet dildo. A butt plug buried in her ass too. Just then the elevator door opened as it stopped a couple of floors before yours, and an elderly couple entered. You quickly had to lock the screen.

"Good afternoon," you greeted politely, playing dumb, with a smile and a small bow.

"Good afternoon dear," smiled the good-natured granny. Grandpa only gave you a smirk and raised his eyebrows.

You had to wait until you were alone on your corresponding floor before re-entering the chat.

Next was Yuna, who as expected had more energy than all of you and Itzy's girls combined.

When you were going to read Yeji's messages, you were already in front of your room. You opened the door, walked in and lay face up on your bed to answer her.

Finishing talking to all of them and having arranged to have a video call did nothing but fill your heart with joy and relief. You had finally taken a burden off your shoulders, but they were not that burden, but rather the emotional weight you had for not having been as attentive to them as you promised before you left.

Just as you were going to get out of bed to go watch a couple more episodes of Haikyuu before going to eat, you received more messages, but they were from Noze.

Had she really used a heart in a message to you? That was certainly new.

This time you did put the phone down and got out of bed to go change your outfit, which was really fucking difficult considering you had no idea what kind of occasion this was. But in the end, the solution was always to do something in the middle. Not looking like a bum but not like James Bond about to go on a mission either. Your choice this time was a black Columbia sweatshirt, and a black jacket with a beige hood on top; also some gray wide-leg jeans and your Air Force 1 07 LV8 in its champagne color variation.

Once prepared, you grabbed all your things and left your room, locked it and prepared to leave the hotel to look for a restaurant to eat nearby. You could have just asked for a car to drive yourself, but you wanted to walk the streets of a city you had never visited before. In your search you came across a place called Cuts Steakhouse, and the name alone convinced you.

You sat at one of the tables to order the food, and while you waited for it you looked for nearby bars. Looking through Google Maps you found one that was perfect for the occasion, it was quite nice and not too far from your current location, so after finishing your pork ribs with barbecue and your grilled salmon with ponzu, you went straight there.

Upon entering the large establishment you were relieved to see that there were not too many people there, which was normal considering that it was a weekday and that many people must be at home resting from work. Naturally the first thing you did was go sit at the bar, which formed a wide rectangle around a main island where the shelves, all the bottles and the televisions were.

One of the bartenders offered to serve you, and while you waited for Noze's message you just ordered a beer. The aforementioned message arrived when you were already a little more than halfway through the beer. You immediately gave her her address, and were impressed by the speed at which she arrived. You remembered what she had ordered the last time you had drinks together, so there was her Rusty Nail next to your half-finished beer.

"Hiii theeeere!" She greeted with a smile as she walked towards you. Once again, she impressed you with her beauty.

Black and white knitted sweater, short black skirt and high leather boots. She also sported pretty, freshly cut bangs, and simple makeup whose main attraction was scarlet lips. You were screwed. It was like she had read your mind when you had that little moment on the bus.

"Hello beautiful," you smiled as she sat down next to you, "You look amazing."

"Do you like it?" She asked with a small twinkle in her eye as she looked at her outfit and then she looked at you.

"Oh yeah, that sweater is beautiful. And damn, so are you, why lie."

"You look really cute too, why lie," she examined you up and down with a sly smile and then looked at the drink you had ordered, "Oh my god! I can't believe you remembered!"

"You never forget the initial shock of seeing a girl order Scotch whiskey," you replied as she took a swig of her drink. You also drank your beer.

"You say that like I'm a savage," she laughed.

"Honey, you look like extremely expensive wine."

"Is that a compliment?" she raised her eyebrows, taking another sip of the drink.

"It is if you want it to be," you shrugged and finally finished your beer, "Yo, brother! Pour me a Black Orchid, please."

"Wow, how enigmatic. Now you're the riddle?"

"No, but it would be fun to make you look for a Rata Alada so you can get into your room today."

You rarely made her truly laugh, and this was one of those times. You smiled as you looked at her.

"You know, I didn't expect you to have that drink with me today," the bartender returned with your drink. You thanked him with a nod and a smile.

"Why not?" she took a sip.

"I don't know, I thought you'd be at girls' night," you tried your drink and wrinkled your forehead a little at the taste, but it was delicious.

"Oh, yes I was invited," she finally set the glass down on the bar and leaned her elbow on it, "But I think there are certain boundaries that need to be respected, you know? A certain level of... uhm, separation, yeah."

"Those boundaries are definitely like the chains in an NFL game, right?" you teased, taking another sip of your drink, "Considering what happened with Rina and Minjeongie a couple days ago."

"That's just sex, it's of no consequence," she looked away with a nonchalant wave of her hand, "Now, a girls' night is much more intimate. You wouldn't understand, you have a cock."

"Nah, I think I understand you. And I have a cock," you pointed out.

Just like her, you left your glass on the bar and crossed your arms on top of it. Then, you lifted your butt only to move your stool closer to hers. She looked out of the corner of her eye as you were now practically leg to leg with her, you noticed a hint of a smile.

"And what about me? You don't mind being intimate with me, do you?" You raised an eyebrow as you looked at her.

"I bursted into tears like a little girl in your arms, what do you think that means?" She turned to look at you, and with her gaze still on your eyes she took a sip of the drink.

"That you had a mental breakdown?" She once again burst out laughing, you smiled.

"Yes, that could be too," she nodded, placing the glass back on the bar and looking at you again, "But I'm glad you were there... I felt safe."

You held her gaze for a few long seconds, long enough to leave you in a small trance. Once again those damn pretty lips. You looked at them again and again. And you could have sworn that she saw your lips too, but that must have been a figment of your imagination. Jihye finally blinked faster and came back to reality.

"Well, do you have any idea why I wanted to have drinks with you?" She changed the subject quickly.

"Uh... I honestly have no idea," you took another sip of your drink and looked towards one of the televisions, praying that the blush on your cheeks wouldn't show.

"Look."

She took out her phone and went into her contacts, scrolled for a few seconds and finally showed you the screen. 'Bae Johyun' you read. Then you noticed that the phone number was blurred and then you noticed that it was blocked.

"I finally blocked her. I want to move on with my life," she put the phone away again. You opened your mouth in surprise.

"Oh my god finally!" you cheered with a big smile on your face, "Damn, I'm so proud of you! Come on, let's make a toast to that."

"Cheers!" she said, smiling. You both raised your glasses, clinked them, and took longer sips than usual.

"Does that mean you accept my offer?"

"The one about looking for a hook up during the tour? Yeah, but not right now, that will have to wait a few days."

"It doesn't matter, the important thing is that you took a giant step."

Then you did something that, thinking about it very carefully, you didn't know why the hell you had done it. It was almost like a natural instinct, something you did without thinking about what possible consequences it could have. You leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

Noze froze for a few seconds, but at that moment, thinking that you had done something perfectly normal, you didn't understand why. Then you saw how her cheeks acquired a light red blush. She giggled nervously and brought her hands to her cheeks to cover them.

"Something happens?" You tilted your head.

"Oh? No, no," she giggled, then quickly grabbed her glass from the bar and finished the rest of the drink in one gulp, "Uhm..." she wrinkled her brow, it had been too much.

"I guess you shouldn't have done that," you laughed, sipping patiently from your glass.

"No, definitely not," she blew air into her face with her hands and looked at the bartender, "Give me another one, please," she turned her gaze to you, "Uh… what are you planning to do during these next few?" days?"

"The main thing is to catch up with the Itzy girls, that's for sure. But I also want to go shopping, you know, for me and for them."

"Oh, in that case I have something for you."

She took her handbag and took out a small red Chanel wallet. From this she took out a credit card which she handed to you.

"Here. Use it and make sure you get them something nice. It's meant for tourist expenses, so there's practically no limit."

You took the card and examined it for a few seconds. Then you looked at her.

"Woman, how many unlimited monetary funds do you have access to?" you joked with an incredulous laugh. You put the card in your jacket pocket.

"Why? Are you only interested in my money?" She teased, then took a sip of her new drink.

"Well, you have enough mommy potential, why lie."

You made her laugh out loud again, and you smiled like an idiot again. You were starting to feel like this would become a non-sexual pleasure for you.

"Don't say that too loudly, I might get a mother complex and over spoil you."

You couldn't help but think about Lia and laugh about it.

"Then I won't do it. You have enough to take care of four unruly girls."

"Four unruly and horny girls, don't forget that detail."

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

You and Jihye drank those couple of drinks and two more rounds. The only thing you did during all that time was have a pleasant conversation full of jokes and topics of recent interest to discuss. Just like you were with Rina, you felt very comfortable around her, just being a couple of good friends who constantly messed with each other. However, there was something else with her, you couldn't identify what, and you didn't want to think about the worst either, but she had an aura that was too stupidly attractive for you. Every thing she did, every expression, every word and every body movement caught your attention and left you captivated.

"Oh shit, it's getting late," you said as you looked at the time on your phone, "Honey, I need to go to the hotel to check on the girls before my video call with ITZY."

"That's fine, baby, let's go. It's also my bedtime."

At that moment you also didn't realize that you were saying 'honey' and 'baby' to each other. Maybe it was the alcohol in your system, or maybe it was just the naturalness with which you had been carrying everything for a couple of hours.

"Get away from there, I'll pay for everything, silly."

You obediently put away your phone and took a small step back. She got into that space you left so she could pay. Now her back was almost touching your torso, and you could smell the scent of her hair. It made too much sense to you that it smelled like blackberries. Then you did something else that you didn't think about at all, and that you did out of pure instinct. You placed your hands on her small waist. She didn't seem to care.

"Aight, let's go," she stepped aside and linked her arm with yours, "Thank you, very kind!" she told the bartender, who said goodbye with a wave of his hand.

When you walked outside you realized why Jihye had arrived at the bar so stupidly quickly. Parked waiting for you was a black sedan with tinted windows. The passenger window was down, Jihye crouched down a little to confirm that this was the driver and made you get in.

"Damn, how long has he been waiting here?" you said, climbing into the back seats with her.

"Since I arrived," she laughed, "I paid him for it, don't worry."

When you settled into the car it started heading towards the hotel. During the entire way Jihye never let go of your arm, even though she had all the space in the world to move in the seats. Only there, with your slow man's mind, did you realize that something was happening.

When you arrived you got off and she thanked the driver. Then you entered the lobby and went up to the first floor to take the elevator, which first stopped on Rina's room floor. When the doors opened, you took a step forward and turned to look into her eyes.

"Thanks for this, big guy," she told you with a little smile, "It was a fun night."

She also took a step forward, wrapped her arms around your neck and hugged you tightly. You wrapped your arms around her small body and reciprocated the hug.

"No problem, boss. It was fun for me too," you murmured in her ear, and then separated from her, "Rest well."

"You too, and good luck with the girls," she winked at you.

You turned to walk down the hallway, but she caught your attention again.

"Hey, just don't get too relaxed just because you're close to the boss," she warned, making an I'm-watching-you sign. Before you could respond, the elevator doors closed.

You finally turned around and walked down the hallway until you reached the door to Jimin's room. When you opened you found the lights off and all of them dressed in baggy and comfortable clothes. Everything seemed perfectly in order, they were all sitting on the bed, eating snacks, drinking Coca-Cola and watching TV.

"Hey, do you need anything? Maybe something else to eat or...?"

"What we need is for you to stop interrupting our girls' night out!" Minjeong said. You weren't surprised at that response.

"Aight, fair enough."

You approached each of them to say goodnight and kissed each one's cheeks except Ning's. You grabbed her by the chin, made her look at you and gave her a kiss on her lips. She smiled at you, you smiled back, and then turned to leave the room.

You took the elevator back and went to your floor. When you got to the door of your room and looked for your door card in your jacket pockets you couldn't find it. You didn't give it much importance, you just went to the reception, asked for a replacement and came back. While inside, you took all the things out of your jacket pockets and took it off. You also took off your shoes and pants, leaving you only in a sweatshirt, socks, and boxers.

You just laid down on your bed and waited. Yeji's video call arrived after about fifteen minutes. When you answered you were a little shocked, but frankly it didn't surprise you at all. On the other side of the screen they were all completely naked, all in different seductive poses on top of the extended sofa bed. The order from left to right was Ryujin, Yuna, Chaery, Lia and Yeji.

"Wow, what a nice surprise, right?" You said with a sly smile, looking carefully at each one of them and their perfect bodies.

"You like what you see huh?" said Ryujin, who was lying on her side just like in the photo she sent you. She put a hand on her ass and squeezed it.

"Daddy sure loves what she sees, don't ask stupid questions," Yuna said to Ryujin's side, then she put her hands on her tits and squeezed them. You were still impressed by how big she was.

"I'm going to spank your asses if you start arguing," you told them both.

"Yes please!" they both said in unison. You couldn't help but laugh.

"Well, you'll notice that we wanted to pull out all our tricks to remind you of what awaits you when you get home," Yeji said, playing with her own tits.

"Oh, believe me. I can't wait to go back and sink my fingers into those pussies again."

"How, like this?" Lia asked, spreading her legs wide open and taking a finger inside her pussy.

"Or maybe like this?" Yeji asked, bringing two fingers inside hers. They both let out a small moan.

"We thought it would be best to give you a show so you wouldn't have to imagine us too much while you're gone," Chaery said with an evil little smile. You were just surprised to hear her speak so confidently.

As soon as she finished that sentence, Ryujin crawled over Yuna and got on all fours between Chaery's legs, making sure the camera caught her ass with a butt plug buried in it. You looked at Chaery's face, and from the change in her expression you knew that Ryujin had started eating her out.

Being the restless girl that she was, Yuna moved to the other side of the sofa to get down and kneel in front of Yeji. She grabbed one of her feet and started kissing them. With Yuna worshiping her feet, Yeji removed her fingers from her pussy and reached between Lia's legs. Lia also took her finger out of her pussy, and as if it were a scripted act between them, they began to finger each other. The moans began to be present through the speakers of your phone.

At that point you could no longer resist the urge to touch yourself, so you took off your boxers and threw them on the floor. You brought one hand to your cock and started to stroke it slowly.

“You girls are so fucking sexy, fuck…” you gasped.

"You love this, don't you?" Yeji asked in a seductive tone looking directly into the camera as she pumped her fingers in and out of Lia's pussy.

Chaery was caressing Ryujin's hair, who was eating her out slowly but enough to make her moan again and again. Yuna stopped worshiping Yeji's feet and moved towards Lia, who began to kiss her thighs.

"I do love it, god. I can't wait to be there with you and hammer those pussies with all my might."

"Mmmgh!" Lia moaned louder, fucking Yeji's pussy with her fingers, "And fill our pussies with that hot load?"

"Fuck yeah baby," you started jerking off faster, making your moans audible so they knew what you were doing.

Yuna stopped kissing Lia's thighs and moved towards Ryujin, climbed onto the sofa again and removed the butt plug from her ass.

"Do you want to see a magic trick daddy?" Yuna asked, shaking the buttplug at the camera from side to side. She then turned her back to the camera, bent forward and buried the same butt plug that she had removed from Ryujin into her butthole. Then, she started eating Ryujin's ass fiercely.

You could barely hear Ryujin's moans muffled against Chaery's pussy, who judging by her red face and raised eyebrows you knew she was being eaten with much more enthusiasm and hunger. That led to her being the first to erupt in a chain of loud orgasms and spasms.

Lia matched Ryujin's position but in front of Yeji, who began to eat her pussy. Yeji tangled the strands of Lia's blonde hair between her fingers, and began to moan louder, looking directly into the camera with her predatory feline eyes. She wrapped her pale thighs around Lia's head, and raised her hips to grind her pussy against the blonde's mouth, throwing her head back and letting herself be carried away by the pleasure.

Ryujin's moans were heard more clearly since she had stopped eating Chaery's pussy, but she was still being eaten out by Yuna, who had both hands gripping her perfect buttocks while she shook her head madly against her ass and apparently her pussy too. Chaery moved away from the edge of the sofa, giving the three of them enough room to maneuver.

Yeji was the next to cum, making Lia eat her pussy and collect all her fluids. When her orgasm had passed, Lia stood up and pushed Yeji back against the couch, then straddled her, and crawled until her ass was on top of her face. She lowered her hips, burying Yeji's face between her fleshy buttocks. Yeji started eating her pussy while she squeezed her ass.

You were about to give them instructions, especially Chaery, Yuna and Ryujin, who were now sharing a torrid triple kiss. But your heart almost jumped out of shock when you heard the door to your room open. You immediately covered yourself with a pillow, but that fear soon disappeared when you noticed that the person who was entering was Ning.

You thanked God that none of the girls were looking at the camera and that they hadn't noticed your reaction. You quickly muted yourself.

"Honey, what are you doing?" you asked as she closed the door behind her.

"Don't worry about me..." she said while looking at your cock, also listening to what was happening on the other side of the screen.

She took off her cotton jacket and threw it next to your boxers. Then she also took off the pink tank top she was wearing and her bra. You looked at her beautiful free tits and bit your lip. You understood why she hadn't taken off her clothes from the waist down, you didn't comment on it.

You unmuted yourself, and turned your gaze to the screen to start giving orders to the ITZY girls.

"Chaery, eat Yuna's tits while Ryujin eats her pussy. Ryujin, you use your left hand to touch yourself and the other to finger Chaery."

The girls obeyed you, Yuna lay down with her legs spread and pressed against her torso; Chaery lay down on one side of her to bring one of her tits into her mouth, and Ryujin got on her hands and knees in front of Yuna's pussy, running one hand under her own body to rub her clit and extending her other arm to put her fingers inside Chaery's pussy. You continued to jerk your cock, alternating your gaze between the screen and Ning's eyes as she watched you touch yourself.

"Yeji, when you make Lia cum, go with Chaery and eat her ass real good. Lia, just make out with Yuna so you can rest."

While you were giving that order Ning had climbed onto the bed with you and knelt between your legs just to stare at you. When you finished giving the order and they started to move, she took your hand off your cock and replaced it with hers. You let out a louder moan as she matched your previous pace.

"Daddy, I can get my toys so we can all play, can I have permission?" Ryujin asked you, looking over her shoulder at you. You noticed that her jaw and her mouth were stained with saliva.

"Of course baby, but hurry up. Oh fuck..." you gasped. Ning had spit on her hand and now she was giving you a slippery handjob behind your phone. You were too careful not to accidentally press the flip camera button.

Ryujin disappeared from the plane and soon returned with her characteristic bag of toys. They all remained faithful to your orders until Yuna exploded with her first orgasm, that's when they all started taking toys out of the bag. Ryujin grabbed a bullet vibrator and a huge black silicone dildo; Yuna grabbed the pink dildo that she always chose and some black anal beads shaped like little balls; Yeji grabbed a clitoral stimulator and dildo that was small compared to the ones Ryujin and Yuna had chosen; Lia also picked up some anal beads, but these were cone-shaped; Chaery only picked up a microphone-shaped vibrator.

With the toys already chosen, the dirtiest of debaucheries began. Ryujin helped Yuna lubricate her anal beads and take them inside her ass while she was on her hands and knees. Yuna moaned loudly as each ball entered her tight butthole, until only the small ring by which the toy was held was outside of her. With her beads inside her ass, Yuna grabbed her dildo and slowly buried it inside her pussy to start fucking herself. Chaery took advantage of Yuna's mouth being free to sit in front of her and spread her legs so she could eat her pussy while she pressed the vibrator against her own clit.

Ryujin lay down next to Yuna and poured lube on her dildo to press it against her butthole. In a matter of seconds the dildo was halfway inside. She began using one of her hands to pump it over and over, and with the other she pulled on Yuna's anal beads, pulling them all out in a single pull that made Yuna squeal with pleasure. The process was constantly repeated, as Chaery caressed Yuna's hair and brought her vibrator to maximum speed.

When Yeji moved to the other side of the couch you realized that the clitoral stimulator was not for her, but for Ryujin. She turned it on, and the toy's little tongue began to move at full speed. Yeji brought it closer to Ryujin's pussy, and as soon as she pressed against her clitoris she began to writhe with pleasure. Then, Yeji took her small dildo and inserted it inside her pussy to start fucking herself at full speed with it.

Lia, on the other hand, had also lubricated her anal beads; but for this she asked Chaery for help. Lia stood on her hands and knees with her ass facing her, and Chaery grabbed her anal beads to bury them deep in Lia's trained ass.

Now the moans of the five girls were blasting through your speakers at full volume, in a catastrophic cacophony of pleasure and lust. You couldn't do anything but moan with them, not only looking at the screen and what they were doing, but also at Ning's eyes right above your phone as she gave you an incredible handjob.

All the girls came a few more times, Ryujin had even let out an intense stream of squirt that wet Yeji's entire naked body and the couch beneath them.

"Dear, are you close? We're starting to get exhausted," Yeji told you, turning to the camera. She was breathing hard and was covered in sweat.

Hearing that question, Ning hid behind your phone and took your entire cock into her mouth in one smooth motion. You rolled your eyes and let out a longer moan.

"Oh fuck yeah... I'm close," you stated between heavy pants. You moved your phone a little to the left so you could watch Ning suck you off.

Ning bobbed her head up and down again and again, covering your entire shaft with a thin layer of saliva and precum. Her hand was gripping the base of your cock, which she soon began using to also jerk you off while giving you one of the best blowjobs you had received since you were on tour with them.

"Perfect, because we still have one final act for you."

They all moved around the sofa and picked up Chaery to position her right in the center of it. Ryujin sat in the far corner to see everything, you noticed that she was the most exhausted. But the rest of the girls did jump into action. Lia lay down next to Chaery and started sucking, licking and kissing her tits. Yeji positioned herself between her legs, and took to alternating between feasting on her pussy and her butthole. Yuna finally sat on Chaery's face facing the camera and leaned forward to start rubbing her clit.

At that moment Ning took you out of her mouth and sat a few centimeters further away from your cock, taking advantage of how slippery your cock was to make a meat sandwich with her feet around it. She began to move her feet up and down, slow at first and picking up speed as the seconds passed. Soon you were also receiving an impeccable footjob.

From the way Chaery was writhing in the middle of all those bodies you could tell that she was approaching what was possibly the strongest orgasm she had ever had in her life. Ning felt you throbbing between her feet and leaned forward once again to now suck on your tip while jerking you off.

It didn't take long for all the inputs of pleasure that Chaery was receiving to bring her to her peak. She finally came, but you were surprised to see how she drenched Yuna's hand and Yeji's entire face with a powerful squirt. Seeing this made you and Yuna explode as well.

You grabbed Ning's head with your free hand and pushed it down until her nose was pressed against your pelvis. You shot spurt after spurt of hot cum into her throat, letting out loud moans that Yuna on the other side of the screen matched as she ground her hips against Chaery's face. You could hear Ning's gagging sounds as she took your entire load down her throat, and you just hoped the girls wouldn't do it.

Even though she was choking on your cock, Ning did her best to tighten her lips around your shaft so as not to let any drops spill out. When your orgasm was over, she pulled you out of her mouth and stuck out her tongue to show you that all your cum had gone down her throat and was gone.

"Well, I guess the real catching up will have to wait until one of the next few days," Yeji mentioned with a giggle, getting closer to the camera, "Fuck, these two bitches really squirted on me like they were in cahoots."

"Fuck..." you were breathing heavily, still recovering from that experience, "Yeah, sure baby," you nodded at Yeji.

"I have to hang up right now, we have to clean up this mess. I'll call you later, okay?"

"I'll be waiting, honey. I love you all, bye," you waved at the camera and blew them a kiss.

"Bye bye!" Yeji said, and as soon as she hung up you threw your phone aside.

"Ning Yizhuo..." you sighed, leaning up on your elbow to bring your hand to her face and caress it.

"I did a good job?" she asked with a shy tone of voice.

"You did amazing," you nodded with a smile, "Come here."

You put a hand on Ning's waist and pulled her up, she simply fell on top of you. Her naked tits pressed against you and her face below yours. You wrapped your arms around her and snuggled her against you as she placed her legs on either side of your hips.

"May I know how the hell you got in here?" you asked, stroking her hair.

"Well... Jimin-unnie has been giving us details of the days you spent together in Miami. I knew that I hadn't given you as much of myself or done as many things with you as she had, and since I didn't want you to forget about me, when you went to check on us and kissed me I took the card from your jacket pocket."

"How did you know it was there?"

"It stuck out of the pocket, darling."

You couldn't help but laugh in disbelief.

"Baby, I had to go to the lobby to get another card, you know?"

"I'm sorryyyy!" she said adorably, raising her head to look at you with a pout.

"You more than made up for it, believe me. So don't worry," you gave her a peck on the lips, "But honey, you don't have to compare yourself to any of the other members. I value each of you individually. Besides, I am the one who is here to help you and meet your needs. Not the other way around."

"I know, I know," she nodded as if she were being scolded, "But I couldn't help but feel like I want to be a lot more adventurous and try more things with you. Hearing how you reacted to Unnie's feet made me determined to want to try that, as well as giving you my other hole for the end of the tour... but I'm not ready for that yet."

"Dear, I am more than happy to help you explore new things, but only if they are things that you really want. I don't want you to feel pressured by the fact that the other members do things that you don't, that's not the important thing. "

Ning stared at you for a few long seconds and then cupped your face in her hands to kiss you again. This time it was a long, slow kiss, devoid of lust but full of love and affection.

"Thank you for always saying the right things and meaning them..." she murmured against your lips as she broke away from the kiss, "You're wonderful," she gave you a couple more short kisses, which you were happy to reciprocate.

"You really are wonderful, Ning Yizhuo, "Now lie down with me, let's spoon and take some sleep, will you?"

"Actually... I have to go back to Jiminie's room, honey, I'm sorry," she wailed with a sad look, "I don't want to raise suspicion when they wake up. They dropped dead before I left."

"Oh... sure," you nodded, even sadder than her, "It's okay, darling, no problem."

She got out of bed and began to put on the top garments that she had taken off.

"You should take me with you to ITZY's house sometime, it would be fun. I heard they have amazing pool parties."

"Well..." you went blank for a second, remembering the last day you spent there, "Yeah, I can certify that."

She approached you again, already dressed, and leaned in to give you one last kiss.

"Good night, sweetheart. Have sweet dreams," she told you, caressing your chin.

"Good night, cutie. You too," you responded as she walked towards the door, then left through it.

Left alone in your room you got up to put your boxers back on, turn off the light and go back to bed. You curled up under the covers, disappointed and a little sad that you didn't get to sleep with Ning that night. Before you could close your eyes you thought about many things. You thought about the drinks you had shared with Noze, and only then did you realize all the things you had done and that she had done. You had kissed her forehead, you had held her waist while she paid, and you had called her honey—her calling you baby and holding on to your arm the entire trip back, by the way.

You also thought about your conversations with ITZY, especially Chaery. She had adhered to the request you made of her, she took care of everything that was yours there as if it were hers. And the simple fact of imagining her sleeping in your bed just because she missed you and wanted to be close to you somehow shrank your heart to the size of a marble. You missed her, a lot.

Lastly you thought of Ning. She was full of things that reminded you of Chaery, but she in turn shone with a very special and unique aura. She was willing to do anything to please you and see you happy, and she was very expressive about her feelings for you, with physical contact being her main love language for you. Your heart was being invaded from several hills, and she was leading the way with an imminent invader also hot on her heels: Noh Jihye.

With all those thoughts swirling around your head, especially the image of three girls, you closed your eyes and tried to relax to sleep.

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[romanoffsbish]

You Can Run, but You Can’t Hide

Alpha!Natasha Romanoff x Omega!Reader

Natasha always knew the truth, but it wasn’t until a mission where she had you alone that she set her plan in motion. Come the end of the trip she planned to make your hers in the most natural way—claimed and bred. | WC: 1,440

Warnings: NC Themes (Discarding of hormone blockers) | Guns / Death (to Hydra)

Smut: Kotenok (R) | Penetration (P in V — Natasha has a penis) | Public (Over [a balcony railing]) | Choking | Breeding

Natasha watched the way you paced around the room, it'd been a weeks time since you'd arrived in this hotel. A mission that you were assigned on with Natasha, an Avenger first, Alpha second, but nonetheless an Alpha.

Which would be fine, since you were a beta, but with your medicine missing the truth was coming to light. The truth that the redhead was aware of from the second the lie left your lips, you were an omega; hers, waiting for what, she didn’t know, but she was over it.

———

That's why she took your stash of hormone blockers and poured them down the toilet on night one, at first she appreciated your concealment since she was busy. Missions were at an all time high last year when you joined Shield, but with the incoming fall of Hydra, as this mission is designed for such a thing, there was no longer a need for you to hide from predatory alpha's.

Natasha was here now, to make sure they all knew you were hers. Hers to claim, to wreck, to fill with her pups.

Her cock twitched when she got a whiff of your scent, it was dull from the prolonged use of drugs, but it was still clear enough for her to feel comforted by the soft swirls of cinnamon and vanilla. Then it soured as your body began to fight against the natural, debilitating heat that followed a sudden change, such as quitting your meds. Natasha was quick to croon from the other room, pumping out thick pheromones as she slowly entered the room. You looked up at her so pitifully.

"Oh kotenok," she coo'd, "You don't look too good, what's wrong beta? Are you going through a period?"

You whimpered, body trembling as your natural instincts made you throw yourself into her chest. "Alpha please." Natasha wrapped her arms around you, and held you close enough that you could feel her twitch through her pants. You cried and she smirked. “Oh, what a naughty girl, you’re no beta after all…”

Judging by her teasing tone, you understood that she knew, and with the way she gripped you, it was even more clear what had happened to your supply. You should be angry, but you were actually relieved. A single alpha like Natasha was rare to find, she was kind, soft when off the clock, and gorgeous in all facets. You’d almost poured the pills down the drain yourself every time you caught her staring at you after an event.

“I’m sorry, but please don’t pull away, I-I need you.”

"Are you gonna tell me why you've been hiding?"

"I-I wasn't ready to give up my life just yet, but fuck, I swear I'm ready now, if it's with you alpha, please."

"We have a mission," she reminded you, her eyes cast outside the window to catch movement of the enemy.

"Please!" You gripped her biceps, body shivering at the chiseled muscles that flexed beneath your fingers, if you didn't need her before, you sure did now. "Shit."

Natasha kept your body from falling with the buckle of your knees, her free hand reached for her long rifle and she took the both of you outside onto the balcony.

"I'll fuck you," she gave in with ease, and you purred softly at the good news. Then you felt her slipping your pants off and softly shrieked, "We're outside Natasha, anyone can see us." She chuckled, "Good observation."

Natasha continued to strip you while her other hand set her gun up on its stand, a bit of a multitasker.

"I can wait," you tried to stop her, but not really as you arched your bare ass into her dicks imprint, your body having a mind of its own, your heat was too strong. "Well, I don't want to detka, I've waited far too long."

Though you’d guessed it, you were shocked at the way she confirmed it without an ounce of shame. “Y-you knew?" Natasha gripped your hip, and brought your dripping entrance to her thick tip. "Of course I did, you can't hide from a super soldier's senses," her nose nuzzled over your neck and you whimpered at the hopeful promise of her claiming you. No longer were you worried about anyone seeing you two, the rest of the world faded away as she slipped herself inside.

Her hips stayed still, allowing your slick walls a moment to catch up with the stretch before she was lifting you off the ground. "Na-Natasha, what are..."

The redhead grunted as she lifted your body onto the railing by her grip around the nape of your neck, and you cried out in both fear and pleasure. It was muffled as she alluringly slid her hand around to squeeze your throat. The tip of her cock had slammed into your cervix just as you stared down at the far away ground, full of tiny silhouettes to remind you it was day time. 

The railing shook as Natasha picked up a brutal pace, her face never lost its smirk as she felt your legs wrap around her backside, your heels painfully dug into her covered back. "Alpha, I-I'm not sure about..."

"You wanted to be filled Y/N," she taunted, "I said we had a mission, that means you'll take your pleasure while I do all of the work. Be thankful, not bratty."

"Sorry Alpha," you whimpered, and held on tighter.

"There's the leader," she pointlessly alerted you, who couldn't see anything other than her demise if she slips over the railing. Your walls were clenching so hard, hoping to instigate her knot so that you'd have a more secure base, but it was fruitless. Natasha's stamina was unworldly, and you were completely at her mercy here.

You heard a muffled shot go off over the sound of the railing squeaking beneath your moving body, then the gun was going off again. "Partner is down, two to go."

Natasha picked up her pace, and was rewarded with your filthy moans that were once muffled by your fear, and she knew she wouldn't last much longer. Which was fortunate for the both of you since she already shot another member, and was left with the other who had caught sight of the both of you. He was stuck in place, unable to comprehend that he was going to die by the hands of the Black Widow, who was railing her omega.

Natasha smirked, and finally gave into your cries to be upright. She grunted as your back pressed to her front and your slick, from your first orgasm, ran down her legs. "Last one detka, keep him distracted for me."

Your eyes locked on the others, the mans mouth was agape as he watched you get railed, it distracted him from the red dot that illuminated his forehead. He was clearly unaware of his fate as his eyes lost their life but you were aware of yours as her knot locked in place and her potent stream of cum filled you with a future.

"You are going to look so beautiful full of my pups," Natasha hoarsely groaned against your neck, her teeth barely scraped over your sensitive gland and you mewled, your walls milked her cock even more and her knot subsequently deflated after a minute of your persistence . “Fuck, I need to fill you again kotenok.”

Her strong hands held you by your hips as she carried you back into the hotel room. She laid you flat on the mattress, and pulled out of you, just long enough to flip you over and thrust right back inside of you. It was loud as your arousals rushed out, only to be sloshed all over the place as her cock entered you mid disposal.

Your body then thrashed at the harsh fill up and her canines dug into your scent gland, leaving behind her unbreakable mark as your core fluttered around her as you came again without much work. "Keep squeezing me just like that detka and we'll never be apart again."

"Good," you sighed softly, happiness clear in your eyes, "I was getting tired of being apart to begin with."

Natasha chuckled, and leaned in to chastely kiss your lips, "It was your choice to hide detka, I was waiting."

"I'm glad you grew impatient," you mused, then you nervously pressed a kiss to her neck, wet lips grazed over her scent gland. "Can I claim you too, Alpha?"

"Wait," she whispered, voice raspy as she began to pump in and out of you, "Wait for my knot detka..."

[mistydeyes]

I had an idea for a fic you might enjoy writing! Reader is injured in the abdomen during a mission (maybe a building collapse with a lil bit of impalement?) Which in itself is a great angst opportunity, but when She's medevac'd to a hospital to have surgery it ends up she is no longer able to have kids due to the damage. BUT WAIT 🫸 this isn't a run of the mill "upset because she can't have kids fic" everyone's worried about what her reaction to the news is going to be. But it turns out she NEVER wanted kids and is actually super cool with the fact she's sterile now? I just thought it would be fun twist! 🥚 Anon

ahhh thank you so much for requesting!! this is such a unique idea especially the little twist at the end :)

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

summary: After a sudden building collapse, you are left recovering in the hospital with an injury to your lower abdomen. You surprise the team when you tell them, that in your opinion, it hadn't hit anything vital.

pairing: Task Force 141 x platonic!fem!reader

warnings: swearing, depictions of violence and injury, medical inaccuracies/terminology

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

"IRIS, IRIS GET OUT OF THERE!" was the last thing you heard before your sight was darkened by falling rubble from the war-torn building. As you felt the crushing weight of concrete and miscellaneous items on your chest, you couldn't help but feel the warmth of liquid around your lower half. The air smelled sickly of iron as you slipped in and out of consciousness. You tried to feel around with a free arm but your tac vest was pinned and your comm spewed out random static and the loose strings of words. As your peripheral vision began to cloud with darkness, you could hear the thundering of boots towards your location. You felt a small smile on your lips before you fell completely out of consciousness.

When you woke up, the bed felt cold and the sheets offered minimal comfort. You tried to sit up but were pulled by tubes running throughout your body. You could hear the monitor beside your bed rapidly beep as your heart rate rose at the unfamiliar surroundings. The charge nurse came rushing in, reassuring you to lie back down as she clicked a few buttons on the monitor. As you cautiously laid down, she calmly took a breath and explained she would help to take out the tube currently lodged in your nostrils. "Hold your breath now, love," she calmly instructed before swiftly removing the device and allowing you to breathe in the fresh sterile air. You coughed for a few moments before she returned with a cup of ice chips. "Where am I?" you asked in between your crunches. "Base medical," she explained as she disposed of the nasogastric tube, "you were flown in yesterday." You nodded as you slowly swallowed some of the remaining water. "The doctor will want to talk to you though so I'll be back to check on you soon," she smiled and without another word, you were left alone in the room.

Almost on schedule, the doctor entered your room. As she hastily put on gloves and checked on your vitals, you sat there patiently. "Mind if I take a look under?" she asked and you nodded before you felt her cold hands move the lower half of your gown. As you met her gaze at your abdomen, you felt nauseous. "Are those stitches?" you asked shakily and she nodded as she fixed your gown. "You came in last night stabbed through and through with some rebar," she explained, taking a seat next to your bed, "your team was smart enough to carry you with it still in to minimize the blood loss." Your mouth felt dry as she continued and you couldn't shake that image of your iodine-stained and stitched stomach. "We were able to stabilize you but," she hesitated, "but unfortunately it penetrated through your uterus." Upon hearing this, you breathed a sigh of relief. As she looked at you skeptically, you were more than happy to share your life plan.

"You have some visitors, ma'am," the nurse called, making you feel much older than you were. As the curtain was pulled back, you smiled upon seeing the rest of the team. "Yer alive!" Soap exclaimed and was immediately met with a slap on the back by Ghost. "Alive with some shitty food more like it," you replied as you put aside your jello cup, "they have me on a liquid and soft foods diet." "We heard about that," Price said as he walked over, "how are you holding up?" "I'm doing alright, doctor told me it didn't hit anything major," you replied happily, to the surprise of the surrounding group. "But, it went through your lower stomach and…" Gaz trailed off as he averted his eyes from your body. "My uterus Garrick?" you said laughing, "Don't need that anyway." There was a moment of awkward silence as they mulled over your response. "What?" you asked as you examined the shocked faces surrounding your bed, "didn't want kids anyways." To your surprise, Ghost laughed and you couldn't help but join in with his low tones. "You think I could actually keep up with little demon spawns? I was glad when the doctor told me it hadn't hit anything vital like my liver." As you wiped away the tears that had formed from your laughter, the team took a breath and smiled at your antics. "Good to have you back, Iris."

[cumikering]

Neighbour Ghost x reader 5

2.9k | fluff, night terrors, being held at knifepoint Whose fault is it when the stray you feed won’t leave? (part 1) (part 6)

“You got a girlfriend now, Riley? You know you don’t have to keep coming back to base, especially not at this hour,” a lieutenant from another unit teased as Simon passed him in the hall. “Don’t forget our training is coming up.”

He kept his head down as he unlocked his door. It was inevitable for suspicions to arise after doing this for months now, but thinking of the eventual teasing he was getting in the dining hall made him groan.

Earlier that night, he’d left his hoodie at yours. If he couldn’t have yours with him anymore, maybe you’d appreciate having his.

You took the bait, a selfie of you in it already waiting on his phone when he lay in bed. He shouldn’t have left your flat - your bed was infinitely better than the one he was in anyway. Perhaps he could find an excuse to keep one of your shirts with him instead.

Simon came over almost every night and the banter only got worse when his peers started noticing how he was only gone a few hours each evening.

“Don’t you get tired from all the driving?” you asked as you poured him another glass of water at dinner. “It’s not a short drive at all.”

He looked up from his plate. “Do I bother you?” he asked carefully.

“No, no! I meant, why don’t you… Your flat’s right down the hall.”

Of course the drive was beyond tedious, but it was the lesser of two evils than to be caught having one of his bloody nightmares again.

When he had his first back home, fresh after deployment, his mum said his piercing scream woke the whole house up. He swung the bedside lamp around in a daze as he heaved, yelling at nothing. She said it shattered her heart to see her baby so.

“Why not stay there if you don’t want to be here?”

You thought he didn’t want to be with you?! Where did you get such an outrageous theory? He didn’t want to leave your bed if he was allowed to.

“It’s not that.” He put his fork down, weighing how to put it. “I dream sometimes. I’ve been told it can be really difficult to watch.”

They hadn’t been anywhere as vivid the past few months, but he knew the demons hadn’t left. They lurked around the corner, ready to strike at the earliest convenience.

He usually got them in the field or fresh after a mission, but shooting up into the still darkness was no shame among his sergeants as they shared understanding glances, a silent promise to keep it amongst the unit. Each of them carried the same weight after all.

You nodded, giving him one of those kind smiles again.

Why couldn’t he hold his tongue around you? The lame jokes, the embarrassing bet he lost and now this. What were you doing to him?

“And we have training this week. I’d prefer sleeping a little later than having to wake earlier to drive.” He averted his gaze. “I’m in the top third of the regiment. One of us is getting promoted to captain.”

For years, he looked forward to each promotion, excited about being and doing more, but that evening as the words formed in his mouth, they tasted… underwhelming. It dawned on him that it would be another reason he wasn’t enough for you, not someone you deserved. It caught him off guard that the title was not as shiny now up close.

“That’s wonderful. Captain Simon Riley does have a lovely ring to it.” You reached across the table and rested your hand on his. ”When do you get to know?”

Did the joy in your eyes ever lie? Was he allowed to imagine a world where the possibility to be apart longer wasn’t a problem for you, even when she couldn’t handle the mere thought of him being SAS?

His hand clasped over yours. “We’ll be deployed next month for a bit, but after that. So in two, three months.”

“Rest up then. You don’t have to come over. We can call meanwhile.”

Would you let him? That he only took without giving? He was supposed to provide, to be endlessly needed, but never need.

But you did. The rest of the week he was battered from training, but your soothing voice surrounded him as he lay in bed, melting the tension of his aching muscles away. It was far better than when he was deployed, but it wasn’t the same if he couldn’t hold and kiss you. He had to feel you pressed against him, to be constantly reminded that you were real.

By Friday, he was dead tired, but he couldn’t stay away from you anymore.

It’s raining hard. I don’t want you to have to drive so far again after a short visit. We can meet for breakfast tomorrow instead?

Nah

You opened your door to Simon with his hood pulled up, wet with rain splotches. He didn’t wait any longer before pulling you in for a kiss.

“Good thing you left the black one here.” You helped take his wet hoodie off, and the shirt under pulled with it before you smoothed it down. As you hung the black fabric on the back of the chair, you chuckled. ”Do you even have any in another colour?”

He shrugged, smiling, thinking of the secret matching one he got. “Maybe.”

You sipped your Ceylon tea as yet the same panda advertisement interrupted the episode of the Great British Bake Off.

“You’re making that face again, Simon.” You placed your cup back on the table and snuggled back against him.

He turned to you with a sheepish grin, his arm wrapping around you. “Am I that obvious?”

“Shoot. Don’t be shy.”

“Shoot,” he repeated, barely able to contain his own laughter. “What’s the scariest tree?”

“What?”

“Bam-boo!”

You giggled into the crook of his neck while he cackled at his own joke. He could have sworn you were mostly laughing at the way he laughed, but he liked it. He liked making you smile.

When you led him to bed, he noticed the nightstand on his side was cleared. You’d removed the night lamp and the colourful candles you liked to light at night. He let out a small sigh, thinking of you looking up ways to help. You didn’t have to be so thoughtful or he was never going to stop spilling his secrets.

Your fingers brushed along his black and blue arm making him shiver.

“Do you need anything for these?”

“They look far worse than they are.”

“How many people did you beat this week?”

He chuckled. “Enough.”

Simon was not one to avoid stare downs, but when your soft gaze lifted to his face, he couldn’t hold it for long anymore. He didn’t want you looking back at him, not like that with those gorgeous eyes. The façade he loved to intimidate people with had grown to be an insecurity. You were supposed to be with someone as beautiful as yourself.

“Love the shape of your nose.” You pecked the tip of his crooked nose – another proof of the terrible things he’d done.

He rolled you off him, climbing over you. Under his shirt, your hands explored the expanse of his muscled back as he kissed and kissed. He wondered if you could tell how many raised scars there were, the way his body couldn’t bury the memories properly anymore.

You pulled his shirt off and your hand trailed down his chest, littered with more cuts and scrapes. He wished it looked better for you. When he leaned back down, you kissed down his neck and collarbones.

“There’s nothing not beautiful about you, Si,” you breathed against his shoulder. “It’s too easy to love you.”

This huge, blemished, strange dog might have kept coming back to your door, but at this point, maybe it was a bit of your fault too if you kept inviting it in and feeding it. It was too good to be true, like it was all a dream to have come across you, to end up at your dining table, to be here in your arms.

How did you expect to say something like that without making him want to cry, without giving you his soul?

“Simon?” you whispered against his knuckles you were just kissing.

He hummed drowsily against your exposed shoulder, his bare chest against your back.

“What’s blue and not heavy?”

“What?”

“Light blue.”

The last thing he remembered was snorting softly as he smiled before he slipped into slumber.

And so the stray lingered longer and longer after each weeknight dinner and stayed at yours every Friday and Saturday. You didn’t seem to mind. Meanwhile, after weeks of back and forth between his mum and her lawyer, his dad was finally served.

Simon decided the occasion deserved a celebration. He tried the steakhouse again, telling himself he was going to take matters into his own hands if the place screwed up his reservation again. They didn’t, fortunately for them, and he was even given complimentary onion rings ‘for the mix up the other day’. Apparently it was hard to forget the huge man with the intense stare.

You kept surprising him how you even remembered his lame jokes when you retold them to his mum. He always loved seeing you both interact, how gentle you were. Most of all with him, the way you grabbed his rough hand under the table, stroking with your thumb. It was impossible to not love you.

But the best part of each evening was that he got to kiss you at the end of it, unlike before, when the thought of holding your hand almost made heat rise to his cheeks. But first, he needed to get cleaned up before he could climb in bed with you.

“Mum, you need to stop giving me that look,” he grumbled, tossing his keys onto the entryway table.

“What look?” She turned to him feigning innocence, but the amused smile she’d been wearing all night betrayed her.

“That one!”

She laughed, swatting his arm. “Oh, Si. You’ve been happy. It looks good on you.”

He blinked.

“There’s nothing a mum wants more for her son. Take care of her. She’s a sweet one.”

You were, indeed, especially in bed, all cosy in one of his shirts. You smiled before giving him your back – an invitation for him to come up behind you. He nuzzled your neck, arm wrapping around your waist.

“Wait, you’ve got a non-black hoodie!” You turned to him, fingers tracing over the pie patch on his chest. “Just like the one you got me.”

He smiled.

Acknowledging the tingles you gave him was weird, that his mum knew, and that his door wasn’t far enough from yours, especially when she wouldn’t stop shooting him those looks. It didn’t matter he was a grown man - he felt like a teen all over again, getting teased for having a crush.

It doesn’t hurt anymore to think about the past, about being left behind. You made him feel like he wasn’t just another unsalvageable, daft soldier, but someone worth having, caring for.

And so he willed himself to not ruin the time he had with you by getting ahead of himself. There were other great lieutenants too - he might not even get the promotion this year, and this wouldn’t have to change one bit.

With the divorce finally happening, things were falling into place. Breathing didn’t feel as heavy, and having you in his arms was the cherry on top. If being with you was home, he was never sure he even had one before this.

Simon was deployed the following week.

The night prior, he engulfed you in a hug at your door, nose buried in your neck as he inhaled. You made him promise to get home soon and safe as he kissed you. The more time you spent with him, the harder it was to see him leave.

You knew what you were getting into from the start, but you couldn’t lie the distance and risk he put himself in made you uneasy. Knowing how devoted he was to his job, you wanted nothing more than for him to climb further up the ranks, but you knew it also meant an uphill battle of balancing a normal relationship amidst his commitments. Even when there was almost no day without hearing from him, the hours in between were unbearable sometimes.

Your dad was supportive, as far as not blatantly voicing his opinion counted anyway, but knowing him, it was still a more positive reaction than to some of the men you saw. You were his precious one after all.

You thought he could see it too, that Simon was quickly becoming more than just a man you were seeing. But you didn’t miss the looks he gave - like you were making a huge mistake - apprehensive if the lieutenant was even a good man, if he could give you a proper relationship like what you deserved, if he was only going to break your heart. You reassured him he was a gentle soul despite his living, that he overflowed with selflessness.

“You’ll see when you meet him,” you promised.

On the first Saturday of the month, it was your turn again to volunteer at the soup kitchen. It was nice when Simon could help with the lifting and the ride, but this time you had to resort to a taxi like you always did. He insisted you use his car while he was away, but you rejected the kind offer.

Ben helped as much as he could, but you didn’t have the heart to see him strain and groan. He had history of a bad back anyway, which was why he stopped doing the majority of the baking those years ago.

“Don’t have to pay today, luv. Simon covered it before he left.”

“He did?”

“Yes. Go.” His hand wrapped around yours, curling it over the notes you held out to him.

“Thank you, Ben.”

“Thank you.”

Some of your friends asked if the ‘tall bloke’ didn’t come with that evening. You smiled. ‘Maybe next month when he’s in town,’ you said.

The shift ended little later than last time, Simon was far more of help than you realised. The chill wind hit as you walked home, and you slowed to tighten your scarf.

The next thing you knew, you were pulled into a dark alley. Nails dug onto your arm through your jacket as a man shoved you back against the rough and damp brick wall, making you yelp. He flicked out a knife from his back pocket.

Your breath caught in your throat when he leaned in, reeking of alcohol, his stare and smirk deranged. You realised… You realised you’d seen him before - the younger, healthier version of him at least.

“Hiya, little birdie. No Simon this time, huh? You’ll listen then…”

Tears pricked your eyes. “D- don’t hurt me, please. You can have everything. There’s an ATM-“

“No, no… I don’t want your money… Tell Mel to – hic – call off the proceedings.“ His grip loosened as his words slowed. “I haven’t been good to her… If she leaves, I’ll have no more chance to… make things right.” The knife clanked onto the ground as he hiccuped.

With it, you kicked his shin as hard as you could, making him fall with a shriek. You sprinted away, looking over your shoulder to make sure he wasn’t following before rushing into the closest corner shop, your knees pressed to your chest in the furthest corner.

Your hands shook as you tapped your phone, wiping your tears away as the line connected.

“M- Melanie?”

Every once in a while, while looking through the folder he’d made of the photos you sent - his favourite pastime as he waited for sleep after returning your texts, Simon would involuntarily come across that photo. He chuckled.

He stood in your small kitchen wearing the silly apron, a post-pie mess on the counter. He couldn’t hide his concern about the ugly pastry, thinking it wasn’t going to turn out. But it was the very first pie he’d made. Were his tainted hands allowed to create something so wonderful, with you? He wished he’d asked you to be in the picture too.

The way you made him feel, he realised it might be more than an infatuation, more than a fleeting crush. He still couldn’t wrap his head around how you said he was easy to love, but you were not one to lie. Being loveable to you to any degree was enough for him.

I’ll tell you when I’m back. He sighed as he stared at one of your selfies.

His phone dinged. Si, call me when you can

He sat up, dialling straight away. “Mum?”

“Your dad’s back. This time he went after her.”

“What?” His hand formed into a fist. That bloody bastard.

“She’s okay. Shaken, but alright now, sleeping in your bed.” She sighed. “I can’t keep running from my problems, Si. Look how I’m bothering you, even dragged her into all of this.”

“I’ll serve him the bloody papers, mum,” he said through his teeth. “And he’ll regret not signing them the first time around.”

@tiredmetalenthusiast @shadofireshinobi @keegansshark @two-gh0sts @eve-lie @astraluminaaa @luvecarson @jaguarthecat @knight4xmas @unwrittenletter @mxtokko @reaperxxxxzz @audisive @sparrowgalaxy @fanficreblogs @lyenera

[endlessdreamworld]

A Snezhnayan Homecoming

Childe X F!Reader

cw: not sfw, cunnilingus, edging, sexual frustration, frustration of a general nature

“I want to make you family.” You could still hear the whispers of his sweet proposal in your dreams, since it’s one of the last few good memories you still remember vividly enough to cling to. The joy you once shared has long since trickled through your exhausted and cold fingers. How were you supposed to know that becoming family meant you would be shipped off to Snezhnaya? Tartaglia, or rather Ajax as you call him now, asked you to let him introduce you to all of his relatives. You are, after all, his soon to be bride, and it was only appropriate for you to meet everyone.

You sigh and stare out the window. The family home was indeed everything he said it was and nothing less. Teucer was so excited to show you his Mr. Cyclops collection and calling you ‘Big Sister’ as he pulled you around by your hand. His mother went out of her way to learn as much about you as you would let her so you would feel right at home. In exchange, she taught you some traditional Snezhnayan dishes to bond over. The building itself was a lavish, well built mansion, and kept everyone warm even during the coldest, angriest winters no matter how ferociously they raged. It was also large enough where everyone had their own space. Even if they no longer lived there, this was the home they could always come back to. You never wanted for anything, or at least nothing material – a perk of being engaged to someone who was richer than God. But the one thing you wanted more than anything, your future husband, was nowhere to be found. 

When you were together in Liyue, you noticed how much time he spends writing letters back home. Back then you thought it was sweet and admirable. Now? It’s the only thing keeping you sane, since you’re the one waiting for them. You think about rereading some of your prior letters, but you settle on staring out the window like the heartbroken maiden that you are. He said he’d be back soon, and he doesn’t lie about that sort of thing. Frustrated, you pick up one of the pillows on your to-be-marital bed and throw it down onto the mattress just to blow off steam.

You hated him. You stared down at the pillow and couldn’t help but imagine him laying in your bed, sprawled out with a cocky little smirk on his dumb face. His stupid little lips mouthing ‘Good job’ to praise you for managing to throw him onto the bed. You punch your pillow in frustration, picturing his face. You hated that you know he would probably like it. You hated him. Of course you loved him too. But right now? You hated that you loved him. Finally, when your ire has died down, you give the pillow a kiss. Maybe it was a little embarrassing, but it wasn’t fair that he left you here. Everyone is truly wonderful to you just like Ajax said they would be, but you missed him so much your bones burned under your skin. Frustrated and unfulfilled, you fell asleep.

You wake up in the middle of the night in desperate need for a glass of water. When you go to sit up you notice it’s a bit more difficult than you were expecting. Something heavy feels like it’s weighing down. Soft almost imperceivable laughter lingered in the air. You grope around in the dark and feel an unmistakable swath of hair, and yank on it. “Ow!” That oh so familiar voice protested playfully. “I missed you too…” As much as you wanted to be happy, it was difficult. Why didn’t he wake you up? Doesn’t he have any idea how much you’ve missed him? You reached around onto your nightstand to grab the cup of water you have to spare you the midnight walk to the kitchen, and dumped it on him.

“What’s wrong with you?! Why didn’t you wake me up?” You whisper angrily. Everyone was asleep, and the last thing you wanted to do was wake everyone up. Your distress, however, was palpable even though your words could never measure up to how you were feeling inside. Light airy laughter quickly faded away into a concerned silence and it was suffocating. “It’s like you don’t even miss me!” You feel like you’re about to cry. “Why didn’t you wake me up?” The battle with your tears is quickly turning into a losing one.

“Well, I had a very good reason,” Ajax soothed you. He threw his arm over your shoulder to pull you close once more – although the situation was a little bit awkward since you soaked him, the covers, as well as the mattress. “It’s because I like watching you sleep.”

“That’s not a good reason,”You groan into his shoulder. “You’re the worst.” “I’m a real bad guy, huh?” his hands play with your hair. “I worry about things like that when I’m off in Liyue. Whether you’re sleeping enough, whether you’re healthy.” “Yeah but you’re never here, so even a few more minutes would be a difference for me that you can’t even begin to imagine. I wish you missed me even a quarter as much as I mis–” He cut you off with a kiss so ravenous it made your lips sting.

He didn’t pull away, and just regarded your form with open eyes – something he did when he was looking for answers to give you.

Ajax eventually pulled enough to touch foreheads with you. “I miss you so much, you can’t even begin to imagine. But I guess I was a little greedy tonight. Moments where I can see you sleeping peacefully? It’s paradise – truly my greatest joy, and it’s something I can never ever get enough of.” He strokes your cheek, hoping it’ll ease your pain at least a little bit. “But it seems like I failed you as your soon-to-be-husband, and we can’t have that now, can we?”

Ajax suddenly rolled you onto your back, and regarded you from above. “What kind of man would I be if I let you believe I didn’t miss you every single second of every day?” He kissed you once more, but much more briefly this time. His gaze swept over you in a way that felt nothing short of utterly dangerous. “So, I guess I’ll just have to do a very good job reminding you just how much I miss you. First, we need to get rid of this.” His arm snaked under your nightgown, and swiftly pulled it over your head and off of you. “Don’t you want to be close to me?” 

Ajax crushed your lips with his own once more, starving for you. His eyes remained open the whole time, darting around parts of you. You realized you would rather shut your eyes right now. It’s obvious he’s figuring out exactly how to remind you, and you didn’t want to know what he had in mind. “Feeling shy now all of a sudden?” He whispered into your ear and dragged your hair upwards to get access to your shoulders. His fingers traced along your collarbone. Ajax took a hold of one of your hands, and placed the palm of it on his cheek. He took a hold of the other one and kissed your fingers and wrist. Tonight was a rare clear night in Snezhnaya. The stars were bright and the moon was unobscured by the usual clouds seen in Snezhnaya giving you a clear picture of exactly how he was looking at you with your hands holding his face like a living frame. It was a sight that you couldn’t tell if you’d rather run away or get eaten, but it was certainly one you would never forget.

But the choice was stolen from you the moment Ajax sucked on the soft skin at the base of your neck, making a wet squelching noise as he did. Your senses were quickly becoming overwhelmed on all fronts. Now that you were liberated from the burden of your nightgown, you were entirely naked. He trailed his hand up the side of your torso. It made you shiver so much, you threw your arms around his shoulders just to ease you through the sensation. Ajax chuckled, and you could feel the air tickle your eyelashes. “Here I thought you were going to put up more of a fight…” He brushed the back of his fingers over your quickly hardening nipples. “But I like this face you make so much that I can’t feel disappointed.” He bit down onto your ear, and began circling the tip of your nipple with his index finger.

“And the noises you make,” he inhales sharply and his whole body shivered, “drive me crazy.” Something he’s said so many times, but you’ve never believed it more than today. “As much as I want to make you sing, it wouldn’t be good to wake everyone up. So, try your best to be good.” Your nerves were fried. Your hair was standing on end. You wanted to run. Your heart was pounding in your chest, but most importantly, you definitely felt like you were sorely missed. Ajax slid down the bed without removing his hand which diligently worked towards giving you an unforgettable night. He pushed one of your thighs off to the side so he could get a good look at you. Your weeping cunt was a welcome sight – one he couldn’t help but sigh in satisfaction at. He looked up at you and gave you the usual smirk that made you miss him so much you wanted to rip your hair out some days and it was like your heart did a backflip. Your respite was only temporary. He swiftly licked his index and middle finger and dove into you. His thumb rubbed steady circles on your clit, and you had to cover your mouth to stifle your erupting moans. It’s a dance you’ve performed so many times, but one you would never ever tire of. 

You clasp your hands over your mouth, as he stroked you with focus and purpose. He kissed your thigh and gently laid his head against it, able to navigate around your shaking hips and undisturbed by your suddenly thrashing limbs. He could feel you were close, he knew you well enough. So, just like that he stopped. Everything stopped, and he looked at you with that cocky grin and you just wanted to punch him. He winked at you as if able to read your mind. “Won’t it be more fun and memorable if I don’t make it easy for you.”

You groaned. “Aww don’t be like that,” he lowered his head between your legs and gave your swollen clit some sorely needed love. You grip at the bed sheets. Anytime he’s got his head between your legs, he’s so excited to ruin you. Your body reacts accordingly, and your back arches as if by instinct.

“I’ve missed you so much,” you whisper. Ajax grabs a hold of your thighs and pulls you a bit closer. He angles your hips upwards, to make it much harder for you to get away.

His mouth drops to you once more, and you grip onto the sheets – the covers – anything. You needed him so much, so fucking much and he’s here – he’s finally here. Your toes curl, and – he stops. Of course he does. Why wouldn’t he? You swipe at him. “Oooh kitten’s got claws,” he teased. 

“Just say you hate me and get it over with,” you whine.

“That’s not it at all.” He smirked down at you, enjoying your frustrated red face. “You want to cum? Not until I say you’re ready.” He said, and slid his fingers inside of you once more. It didn’t take long to get you teetering on the edge, and you had forgotten yourself for a moment. “Shhh, be good.” He placed his index finger against your lips to encourage you. You kissed it happily.

“I’m close, so close so so –” You felt like you were going crazy.

“I don’t think you’re ready yet,” he reminds you. You whine in exasperation. “You’re almost ready, so how about a countdown?” You don’t really have a choice.

Ajax picks up the pace, but not before laying his head against your thigh once more. “ten, nine, eight,” you cover your mouth and shut your eyes. “seven, six, five,” His rhythm is steady and his touch is focused. It feels so good to have him inside of you like this again. You wonder if it feels like home for him too. “four, three, two,” he laughs. “two, two, twoo.” You feel like you’re going to lose your mind. “Twooo… and one.” 

Your vision goes white, you can’t breathe, and pure ecstasy washes through every inch of every vein and every artery, leaving nothing untouched. 

After what felt like an eternity, your mind clears up and you notice Ajax’s fingers were placed over your mouth with a surprised look on his face. You give his fingers a swift kiss. “I uh – was I being too loud?”

“We’re lucky I’ve got such incredible reflexes or you would have woken up every single person in the house.”

You continued to kiss his fingers. “Thank you.”

“It’s so good to be back, you know?” He pushed you down onto the bed once more. “I’ve missed you so much.” He gripped his cock in one hand and spread you open once more. You weren’t sure you were ready to go again, but what you were sure of is that you didn’t really have a choice. Ajax thrusted into you from tip all of the base in a single thrust. You covered your mouth, but you quickly readjusted because you had to hold onto him with the way he was fucking you. Your ecstatic moans were leaking through. “Shhhh,” he quieted you but not before fucking you even harder. Your eyes rolled back in your head. Ajax covered your mouth with one hand, and brushed aside your hair with the other. He laid tender kisses along every inch of you while he fucked you into the mattress. “So g– hnnn ghh. So good. I missed you so much,” you muttered into his fingers.

At the breakfast table the following morning. “Ajax is your bride-to-be joining us for breakfast today?”

He smiled and covered his face with the back of his hand, sheepishly. “I got back pretty late and we were up all night talking, so she’s sleeping in. I’ll bring her something later though.”

[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

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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.

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Liar

Dean Winchester x little sister!reader

Author’s note: Yeah I hope you guys like these because they just keep coming.

Synopsis: Dean will do anything to protect you. He finds out just how far he’s willing to go.

You were different than Sammy was. Either that, or Dean had just gotten a whole lot better at lying over the years. He had never been able to lie to Sam, at least not for long, but you…

You trusted Dean completely. You believed everything he said. You assumed that since he had told you the truth about monsters, about his mom and yours, that he would tell you the truth about everything.

He wasn’t proud about all the times he had lied to you, but you were his baby sister, and he would protect you from everything, by any means necessary. Even if that meant he had to protect you from the truth sometimes.

…

“Is that dad?”

Dean didn’t bother answering you, so focused was he on listening to John’s instructions.

“Yes sir. I understand.”

“Dean, I wanna talk to him! Tell dad I’m here.”

“No sir, I’m listening. Yes sir. Alright.” Dean hung up the phone, and only after the echo of his father’s authoritative voice was out of his head did he give you his attention. By then it was too late, and Dean’s heart ached a little at the shattering disappointment on your face.

“Dean, I wanted to talk to dad. That was dad, right?”

Dean cleared his throat, and he focused on a spot just above your shoulder, unable to fully meet your eye.

“Yeah, yeah that was dad. Sorry, he said to tell you he loves you. He was in the middle of something, he couldn’t talk any longer.”

“Is he in danger?”

“No, no he’s gonna be fine, he just…couldn’t talk.”

You still looked disappointed, but after hearing your father’s “message”, your face brightened a bit.

“Ok…do we have a job?”

Dean finally met your eye, and smiled down at you.

“Yeah, we gotta job. Go take your bags to the car, ok?”

Only after you had left the hotel room with an armload of bags, did Sam turn to glare at his brother.

“ ‘Dad says I love you’? Really Dean?”

Dean glared right back.

“What did you want me to say, Sam? You think she would’ve been ok if I had said, ‘Sorry kid, daddy’s too busy hunting a demon to remember to say I love you to his daughter’? Look, dad has a lot going on right now, and that’s fine for you and me. But she needs-“

Dean cut himself off when you came bounding back into the hotel room.

“Everything’s packed and I’m hungry. Can we go now?”

Dean grinned, brushing past Sam and throwing an arm around your shoulder.

“Heck yeah we’re going now. You’re not the only one who’s hungry.”

“Dean?” At Dean’s hum of response, you continued, “Is dad…is he gonna come back soon?”

Both Dean and Sam froze, and Dean glanced at Sam for a split second before responding.

“Yeah baby. Of course he’ll be back soon.”

…

“Dean?”

Dean bit back a groan, and instead he took a long swig of the beer in his hand. Obviously it was you on the other side of the bathroom door, and he could tell just by the one word that you were still crying.

He had taken refuge in the bathroom so that he could be alone with his thoughts. He would’ve taken Baby out for a drive, but John had left the hotel room just a few minutes after Sam, and Dean didn’t want to leave you completely alone.

Alone. Gosh he hated that word. But more than the word, he hated the feeling. He’d never felt more alone than he did tonight. Sam was going to college. Dad’s golden boy had left after a long and heated argument, and dad himself was too pissed about it to stay in the presence of his other two kids.

Not that Dean could blame him, he’d wanted to get away from what was left of his family too, at least for a couple hours to clear his head. But he couldn’t. Actually, he could. He could push past the crying girl at the bathroom door, grab the keys to the Impala, and not look back.

But he wouldn’t. Not to you, not to the kid that trusted him more than anything.

Dean put his beer down and pushed himself to his feet, hesitating a moment when his hand reached for the door handle. But only for a moment.

Your face was red and tear-streaked, and your lips were trembling. But the second you saw Dean, relief lightened your features, and you stood there awkwardly for a moment before Dean pulled you into a hug.

“It’s gonna be ok.”

Was it? Dean sighed. It didn’t matter if he believed it, so long as you did.

“Is Sam gonna come back?” You sobbed, fingers gripping fistfuls of Dean’s shirt. He cradled the back of your head in one hand, the other coming up to rub your back.

“Of course,” Dean managed to get past the lump in his throat. “Of course Sammy’s coming back. College won’t last forever.”

You looked up at Dean just then, blinking the tears out of your eyes.

“But dad…dad told him not to come back.”

Dean gently pushed your head back against his chest, unable to look you in the eye.

“He…dad was just angry. He didn’t mean it.”

Dean felt like that was the most outlandish lie he had uttered tonight—dad wasn’t one to change his mind—but of course, you believed him anyway.

“Ok.”

Dean sighed in relief. As long as you believed him, nothing else really mattered right now. At least nothing that he cared to think about.

“Dean?”

“Yeah sweetheart?”

“You won’t leave me…will you?”

For the first time all night, Dean could look into your eyes and confidently answer you, not a hint of a lie in his words.

“No baby. I will never leave you.”

…

“Of course dad will be here.”

Dean was tired. Tired of all of it. He was tired of missing Sam, tired of pretending he didn’t miss Sam when you were around. Tired of doing hunts alone. Tired of John taking off for days at a time.

But, perhaps most of all, he was tired of this. Tired of lying to you for John, so you could keep the image you had of a perfect father. He didn’t want to do it anymore. Guilt for lying to someone who trusted him so completely was eating him up. Watching you fall apart every time dad left, then looking to him for reassurance, for the glue to put you back together, was wearing him out. Just once, he wished John would be there for you so he didn’t have to come up with the lies. He was tired of it.

But he knew that you needed this. You had lost so much in your life; your mother, any friends you could have made if you didn’t move around so much, any sense of normality, any sense of safety, and, most recently, Sam. He couldn’t let you lose your dad too, no matter how little John was actually in your life to be a dad.

“Do you think he even remembers?”

Dean was snapped back to reality to find you staring up at him yet again, a fragility in your eyes that he had gotten used to but yet would never cease to hurt his heart.

“Of course he remembers, kiddo. What kinda dad would forget your birthday? He’s doing his best to be here, I know it. Sometimes those ghosts though, they just don’t take a day off.” Dean felt that his attempt today was a bit halfhearted, and he couldn’t even muster enough energy to try looking anywhere near your face while he lied to you.

Even with this utterly pathetic display, you smiled briefly up at him and gave him a brief hug.

“That’s ok. Even if the ghosts keep him away, maybe he’ll want to celebrate when he gets back.”

Dean rubbed your back, grateful for an excuse to not have to look at you.

“Yeah. Of course he will.”

…

“I’m fine, of course I’m fine.”

This lie was perhaps the easiest. Because it was the lie that he told to everyone, not just you.

“But your arm…” Dean flinched away when you reached for the gash on his arm, and you withdrew your hand. “Sorry.”

Dean just shook his head, “no, it’s fine, I’ll just patch it up real quick and we can-“

Dean was cut off by a knock on the hotel door, and he immediately went into hunter mode. He snatched his gun up from the dresser, gestured for you to hide, and hesitantly looked through the peep hole. You noticed his body relax, and he put the gun down, opening the door to reveal John Winchester.

You didn’t hesitate, running out from behind the bed and bounding towards John. Before you could reach out and pull your dad into a hug, he grabbed your arms and firmly moved you aside, barely sparing you a glance before turning his attention to Dean.

He wasn’t trying to be cruel, but he was too focused on his mission to notice that his little girl wanted her father.

“You’re hurt,” John glanced down at Dean’s arm, a frown pulling the corners of his mouth downward.

“I’m fine,” Dean insisted. “What’s the word? You got anything on the demon?”

John shook his head, a frustrated sigh escaping his lips. “Nothing. Now why don’t you-“ John cut himself off when he felt your small frame lean against his side, your arms coming up around his waist. You didn’t want to interrupt him, but you hadn’t seen your father in nearly two weeks, and he hadn’t called, not even once, to tell you he was ok.

John, however, didn’t understand nor appreciate your sentiment.

“That’s enough, go get the first aid kit for your brother.”

“I missed you, dad,” it didn’t really register in your mind that you were, at the moment, disobeying John. You were just desperate for him to reciprocate your affection, and Dean nearly cringed when you ignored John’s command, even if for just a moment. All that Dean’s lying had done was ensure that you didn’t truly understand John—he was not a man to be disobeyed, and he was not a man to put aside anything he deemed important for something as ludicrous as affection.

John’s large hands gripped your upper arms, and Dean didn’t miss the way your face contorted in shock—and pain?—as John pulled you away from him.

“I said that’s enough, now do what I said before there are consequences.” John wasn’t shouting, per se, but he was definitely using his sergeant voice, and his sudden rigidity seemed to both shock and scare you.

“I’m sorry,” your voice was quiet, and this time Dean did cringe. Why did you have to be so focused on getting a real response from John? Didn’t you understand that you were just supposed to obey?

No, of course you didn’t. You weren’t used to John, whether you knew it or not. You were used to Dean. And Dean would’ve hugged you back.

“Do what I said!” John was shouting now, and this time he reached a hand up and pushed your shoulder. Not very hard, but you hadn’t been expecting it, and it was enough to make you stagger back several feet before Dean instinctively reached out to steady you. He almost cringed a second time when John turned his glare to Dean.

“Don’t coddle her, Dean. Is that why your wound has gone untreated? Because you just let her do whatever she wants?”

Dean cleared his throat, and gave you a brief look that told you to do as your father said. You scrambled off to find the first aid kit while Dean addressed John.

“No, sir. I don’t need her to treat my wound, I was about to do it myself. I just got back.”

“Well you shouldn’t have to. She should know how to treat a simple wound, and she doesn’t have anything else to do.”

Dean wasn’t about to argue that, as a young kid still in school, you had plenty else to do. Dean had put together his own curriculum for you, he figured it was a better way to get an education than switching schools every few weeks like he had. But to John, school wasn’t exactly a priority. It wasn’t going to get you anywhere in the hunting world. K

You had finally found the first aid kit, and you tugged on Dean’s arm, leading him to sit down on his bed before you pulled out the kit to sew up his arm.

He grabbed your hand before you could pierce his arm with the needle, noticing that your hands were shaking.

“It’s fine,” Dean reassured you, “I can do it myself.”

“How’d you get that?” John asked from the other side of the room.

Dean tried to shrug it off, “One more vamp then I thought there was. It’s not bad.”

“If you’d had backup, it wouldn’t have happened.”

“I don’t need backup,” Dean grunted.

“Stitch him up,” John demanded, looking at you. He then turned his attention to Dean. “Backup would do you good, though.”

Dean grabbed your hand again before you could try to stitch him up, “Go get me a drink, baby. If I’m not gonna be the one with the needle, I might as well be drunk.” He handed you a few dollars, and you nervously headed for the door, throwing a worried glance in John’s direction. For once in his life, John let you follow Dean’s instructions rather than his. He had a feeling he had a much bigger problem to deal with with Dean.

“You don’t have Sam anymore. You could use her,” John spoke as soon as the motel door shut behind you.

“She’s not old enough. I’m not gonna do that to her, I’m not gonna get her killed.”

“If you train her right she won’t get killed.”

“You can’t know that! Even the best get killed in this life, and she’s just a kid! I’m not gonna watch her get hurt!”

John scoffed, “You’re babying her. She’s in this life whether you like it or not.”

Dean gritted his teeth, “But I can reduce the risks. And that means no hunting. Not for her.”

“Maybe it’s not your call, Dean.”

Dean stiffened.

“Really, dad? You leave me with her, leave me to raise her for weeks on end, all the time, but when I want to protect her, now you pull the dad card?” Dean stepped towards John, his chest heaving. “Well you’re not her dad. You were never there for her, I was! You don’t get to decide whether she gets thrown into danger, I do!”

John clenched his fists.

“What has gotten into you? Stand down now, Dean. This isn’t a fight you’re going to win.”

Dean set his jaw.

“Yes it is. And you wanna know why?” He closed the small gap between himself and his father.

“Because she’s my girl.”

…

You jumped in surprise when you felt a hand on your shoulder, turning to see Dean standing there, both your bag and his in his arms.

“What’s wrong?”

Dean shook his head, trying hard not to seethe.

“Nothin’ baby, just some…complications,” Dean focused on his usual spot, just above your shoulder. “We think there’s something big in the next town over, you and me are taking the Impala, dad can catch up later.”

You frowned, “Dean, what about your arm?”

“It’ll be fine, I’ll give it a quick patch job and I can sew it up when we get where we’re going. Now c’mon, we’re in a hurry.”

…

You were quiet as Dean loaded up the Impala and began to drive out of town. In fact, he was starting to think that you were dozing off when you finally spoke.

“There isn’t a job, is there?”

Dean glanced at you, frowning.

“What are you talking about, N/N? Of course there’s a job, I-“

“You and dad fought, didn’t you? Was it about me?”

Dean turned to stare at you. You hesitated before meeting his gaze head-on.

“He was mad, I could tell. You were, too. And a job could’ve waited until after you sewed yourself up. You didn’t want me going back to the room, because dad was there.”

Dean cleared his throat, returning his gaze to the road.

“So what, you’re saying you think I lied to you?”

You pulled your knees up to your chest and looked out the window.

“Did you?”

Dean shook his head, “C’mon baby, don’t you trust me?”

“Why didn’t you answer my question?”

Dean sighed.

“Dean? Why didn’t you want me to go back to the room?”

“Can’t you just trust me?”

“Don’t say that, I do trust you, always. But I wanna know.”

Dean tried his best to force a smile on his lips as he reached over and ruffled your hair.

“Doesn’t matter sweetheart. What matters is, you’re safe, and we’re gonna be ok.”

“What about dad?”

Dean forced himself to look over at you, and he felt a pang in his chest when he saw you. You were curled in on yourself, looking up at him. You looked so small.

“Honey, I need you to just trust me. Please, can you do that for me?”

You didn’t even hesitate.

“Ok Dean. I trust you.”

[vagabond-umlaut]

tempest in a teapot

gojo finds nothing more delightful than seeing your annoyed frown in the middle of a storm— why should he need the sun to break through the gloomy clouds, when you're right there in front of him, huh?

teen!gojo x fem!reader; fluffy & not-very-lwk sappy [xDD]; lovesick gojo; realisation of feelings; gojo loves you— you're compelled to tolerate him; he is sort of... obsessed w you but not in the toxic way yet; implied bullying [gojo isn't involved!!]; he wants to be your knight in shining armour sooo baddd; 'one-sided enemies to lovers'; 2.5k wc

belongs to the series 'fictitious force' but can be read as a stand-alone if you wanna!

header frm pinterest // divider by @/isisjupiter // jjk isn't mine

gojo believes, there exist two kinds of people.

one, those who aren't but love to pretend being better than everyone else— and two, those who aren't but will do anything to be viewed as the worst in the world— the second category housing no one except you—

tingles dancing behind his ribs, down his arms and right to the tips of his fingers, the boy hums when asked why he wishes to meet you out of all the people he could. that too now, the sky darkening from a mix of night and storm— that too, to meet you.

candy crushed between molars, gojo grins.

"let's just say i'm a little curious about her, shall we?"

then pauses, grin mellowing when he finally feels your cursed energy— if his six eyes were working just fine and not fatigued after today's spree of killing curses, maybe he could have known your location too in an instant or so... and not have had to rely on others for that...

the blinding beacon that your cursed signature is, brushes soothingly against his exhausted self— he adds, "also maybe 'cause i'm a little in love with her— she's really sweet, y'know?"

whatever response he might have been expecting, a scoff is definitely not one of them.

utahime makes a face. almost as if she just bit into a lemon... almost as if she doesn't believe gojo can fall in love... almost as if she deems you to be not sweet... that last implication nearly makes him want to throw hands with the girl, opting to ignore the fact that she's shoko's girlfriend—

but he stops when she jabs a thumb to the corridor to the left.

your cursed energy caresses his six eyes gently. something burns at the back of his two eyes. he begs his mind to listen to the directions being given to him. the directions to you!!

"go down this hallway then turn right at the end. she will still be in the gardens—" the rest of the sentence doesn't reach gojo.

nor does anything else, for that matter.

nothing does. except for the steady thump!thump!thump! against his ribs and in his ears. and, of course— how did he even forget this— the lodestar your brilliance is to his too impatient self, too stumbling feet, this squally evening as he skids past empty hallways...

your smile is the first thing the boy notices.

so sweet. so sweet. it is the sweetest thing gojo reckons to have ever seen in his life. the pretty little smile carving your lips and illuminating your equally lovely face, as you lie on your stomach on the grass. legs swaying with the wind. gaze dancing over the fluttering pages—

everything changes in a beat— or perhaps even less than that— with your eyes no longer on the book.

they are on him. drowning him. suffocating him. squeezing whatever infinitesimal life left in him after the past three days' missions. taking every bit of who he is, all for themselves to glare at so sweetly.

your pretty little smile falls into an adorable frown. "why are you here, senpai?"

"why am i here?" he echoes your query. your frown deepens. he grins, brushing his bangs away out of his view. "to see you, of course!! mind if i take a seat beside you?"

you do mind. gojo knows, yet doesn't find a fault in you minding him so— shutting your book, you don't waste an extra second to move to sit upright. nor to scoot away when the boy takes your absence of an answer as an invitation to plop down onto the grass.

your scowl stays unfazed, gojo watches, heart lurching and tumbling. falling onto his back, he shifts to lie on his side, an elbow propped up to support his head. and hums.

"why do you look so mad, sweet—"

"please don't call me by such terms," you cut him off, sharp and terse, "and please don't pretend you don't know why i'm mad— acting like a fool doesn't suit you."

"acting like a fool doesn't suit you either, darling," the boy replies, not borrowing even a moment to mull over his words. it's honestly so like playing with fire... arguing with you, that is. but he is nothing if not an extremely devoted lover of danger, so he will keep doing whatever he is doing now— plus, don't the two of you seem so 'married couple'-y right now, huh?

he continues— not disturbed, rather delighted by how your features tighten and stiffen. eyes narrowing a touch. lips pursed a pinch— he wonders if you know how much you're endearing yourself to him the longer you keep looking at him that way—

he allows his grin to simmer down to a sly twist of lips.

"but i'm not going to question that... your love for your family is pretty cool—" not really. gojo finds it boring at best, and stupid at worst. but since it's you... he tries to deem it as neither. "— so whatever amazing plan you've concocted: pretending to be weak, so you aren't sent to a mission, so you have a 100% chance of staying alive anddd your dear family doesn't have to get sad—"

"why are you here, senpai?"

obviously, to see you, silly!!

— is what gojo should say. is what gojo wants to say. but he finds his tongue numb and unmoving. rendered useless by the sight you, your cursed energy, both have become...

if you were a fire before, you're nothing less than a solar flare now.

and the boy loves it. his six eyes love it. the boy loves you—

your brows gather close. his stomach does a flip. your voice assumes an adorably serious tone. "you didn't come here to ask me out, again, did you, senpai?"

did he?

oh, gojo doesn't really know.

maybe he did... he does want to take you to his favourite restaurants. but maybe he didn't... seeing you has been the only thing on his mind ever since he was informed of his mission being in otsu, shiga.

only fifteen kilometres away from the kyoto jujutsu tech— you don't allow him to utter a single syllable in reply, however. gojo wonders if this is how all your future arguments will be like— he decides it's not that bad.

not when you lean a little towards him. gaze narrowed. tone earnest.

"look— i know keeping another's secrets is a big deal, and some folks need some sort of... uh, reward for that— but how about this? instead of me going out on a date with you, why don't i buy you a box of them gourmet chocolates? or, a ticket to your favorite band's concert? or, a gift voucher of your favorite clothing store— this is better, isn't it?"

better... it would have been... if only he was dead set on making you reward him, as you oh so eloquently put it, for keeping your secrets.

but the thing is, he isn't. the boy doesn't want any sort of silly reward from you— he just wants to take you out on a date. always has, since his eyes met yours few weeks ago and he felt something strange and sweet unfurl within his chest—

making it seem like a payment for him shutting his mouth about you, was only a tactic. a very cheap tactic, the boy chides himself, looking at the worry etched into the dip of your lips.

slipping his shades off, he sits up. and offers a tiny smile. it feels... too weird... too soft on his lips.

"you do know who you're talking to, don't you?"

it takes you a while to reply. throwing back a question of your own. "is this you telling me i can't buy a rich guy's silence, senpai?"

he is. he very much is. but heaven knows why you make it sound this rude— the same as before, you don't stop speaking. not allowing him squeeze a single word in.

"but everyone likes free stuff, don't they? i mean, i'll be buying all that for you, and you won't have to spend even a single yen..." you heave a sigh. so minute, he almost misses it. but he doesn't 'cause he's pretty much focused his every sense on you—

exhaling yet another sigh, you ask, "don't you like freebies, senpai?"

he does. he very much does. even more when you say it that way with your cute little frown and exasperated little tone—

"you're too sweet, y'know?" he breathes out, hoping he sounds just as fond as he feels of you now. extremely likely, forever. "i don't really get why utahime doesn't see you to be so."

you make some sort of a noise then.

it isn't exactly a chuckle... nor is it a snort... it's very cute, nonetheless.

you hum, "iori-senpai is the kindest out of everyone here. if she thinks i'm not someone sweet... i don't know but doesn't it ring some sort of warning bell inside your head, hm?"

"hell no," gojo mutters in that same instant— a little miffed at how you refer to utahime, a quiet respect lacing every letter you say— not-too-little miffed at the implications behind you calling that sharp-tongued girl the kindest here—

for the first time in your company, the boy feels his lips collapse into a frown.

it's something, he realises you realise too, the way your lips part a tad. in something akin surprise... but not the very pleased kind.

he doesn't really think before adding, "the only bells i can hear when i look at you are—" you frown. he bites his tongue. perhaps... he should think a bit before speaking...

chuckling, he continues as if you did not just shoot his soul a look.

"never mind what i can hear... but the thing is you can never be one who rings warning bells in others' minds— like, hell no!" he repeats. letting some force seep into his syllables. into his unwavering stare, fixed on you. on every minute expression you're making—

he really decides to think, however. softening himself on noting your shaky exhale. your nails digging into the cover of your book— he lets himself borrow a beat before resuming.

forcing his face into a bright grin when he does so.

"feel free to text me the names of those dipshits who have ever made you feel bad, by the way— but don't worry," he adds, the memories of his previous error of ways hitting him in the face.

"i won't ask you out on a date in return for that— i'm just in need of an intensive punching practice, and you will do me a big favour by doing as i asked you to— you will text me, won't ya?"

yeah. no. thank you. fuck you—

you say nothing.

nothing, nothing, nothing at all.

for a very painfully long ten seconds.

during which you do nothing except look at him— just look, that too! neither glare nor gape nor gawk— just a quiet, scarily quiet looking— gojo swears his heart skips a beat when you finally open your mouth.

and inquire, words so slow and soft.

"this isn't some ploy of yours to get my number, right?"

"hey, no—" he rushes to explain. fuming at himself 'cause how the hell did he fuck up this bad again!?!?— but as is the norm, you don't allow him to speak any more than that. cutting him off with yet another one of your queries— except this time, it's not so slow.

and more of a statement than a question, now that he thinks about it— "you did not really tell anyone about my secret in these past weeks, did you?"

no, he didn't. obviously, he didn't.

gojo satoru might be several things, but an intentional villain isn't one of them... something skids across your face when the boy tells you as much— but he finds himself not too sure.

thanks to the lightning streaking across the sky.

and the torrential rains following not an instant late.

and the way your gaze jumps from him to the sky, to the book in your hold— only to come back to his face. wide, unblinking, all-consuming for a scanty moment there—

gojo tries his best not to collapse into the mud when you break into a sprint for cover from the downpour. he tries his best not to follow you as he feels your warmth go farther and farther away. his six eyes gaze at the trail of your addictively bright and hot— and his six eyes aren't talking about just the temperature— cursed energy—

the boy tries his damnedest best not to shout, overwhelmingly happy and relieved as he realises the rapidly reducing distance between him and your cursed signature.

the thud of your sneakers on the cement floor of the building sounds nothing less than the best music the boy's ever heard. or maybe, it is the best music in this whole wide world...

yet another lightning streaks across the sky. he twists himself around just in time to catch the awe-filled look you offer at the sight. features something out of this realm as your eyes trace its path, not even a bit bothered by the deafening thunder that sounds next—

gojo thinks he'll die happy if he dies now.

or maybe he can die later, he changes his stance quickly. on noticing you dash towards him through the mud, face fixed in a deep scowl as you struggle to open an umbrella, and balance a pretty heavy-looking bag off your forearm.

you huff when you reach him.

the boy wonders if it's your finally-open umbrella, or you, who shields him from the numbing cold of the torrential rains—

crouching down before him, you drop the bag into his lap.

and exhale a quiet sigh. his breath catches in his chest when he spies a hint of something... maybe fondness? curling up the corners of your frown, as you speak.

"next time you wanna flirt with someone, try not to do that after your missions— it is very difficult to be mad at a person if they look just a push away from passing out, y'know?"

[no... gojo doesn't really know.

but as he lets you press the handle of the umbrella into his palm— an odd look flittering over your features before you turn on your heel and hurry back into the school building— and his eyes fall on the contents of the bag you've left with him—

cans of green tea. chamomile tea. dark chocolate. biscuits. water—

the boy muses if this is your attempt to buy his silence. by giving him enough food and drinks to prevent him from blacking out from sheer exhaustion while on the train ride back to tokyo...

oh. it's enough for him to not worry 'bout tonight's dinner as well, he tells himself on finding two cups of instant noodles at the bottom of the bag—

gojo smiles.

deciding not only his silence to be yours, but also a part of his heart— albeit... weren't either of them yours to begin with, huh?]

hope this was an enjoyable read! pls don't plagiarise, translate or repost this ❤️❤️

masterlist

[blueicequeen19]

Party Foul

Warnings: fingering at a party 🎉

JJ looked up from his beer just as a gorgeous Kook girl appeared feet from him, clearly breathless and disheveled. Her hair was up in a bun and her clothes were askew like she’d taken them off and hurriedly shoved them back on. She was hot, even in her fearful state.

She was running from someone.

JJ knew that look too well. When her eyes suddenly land on JJ and she makes her way forward, his breathing seems to stop.

“Just go with it.” You insist just as you drop down on JJ Maybank’s lap and burying your face in his warm neck.

“What the—.” JJ’s entire body tenses beneath you but when he feels you shaking, his arms immediately wrap around you as his eyes try to track the source of your discomfort. The raw urge to protect immediately took hold.

“I’m gonna take your hair down.” JJ says softly after a few moments while the party continues around you. You nod, your lips finding his neck and sending a zap of pleasure through his body. JJ fights back a moan as he tugs your hair loose from its tie but he can’t stop his cock from starting to swell.

You whimper, shifting on his lap and against his cock as your intoxicating scent washes over him. You smelled incredible. You felt even better. JJ grits his teeth as his hands tighten their hold on your waist just as Rafe Cameron comes into view, clearly looking for someone. Now JJ felt even better about what he was about to do. His hands slid lower to find the swells of your plump ass and gave a squeeze. Rafe’s eyes scanned the party, not even settling on where JJ was seated before walking off in another direction.

JJ was just about to tell you that Rafe was gone when your fingers tightened in his shirt and your hips rolled just a little. He was fully hard now and there was no hiding it. Your gasp rang in his ear as you did it again. And again.

“Stop.” JJ rasped, his hands squeezing your ass harder in an attempt to halt your movements but you only moved harder. He could feel the heat of your pussy through the thin material of his swim trunks, making his head spin.

“Stop.” JJ bit out again, his hand sliding down the crack of your ass to cup your pussy from behind. You jerked, your tongue coming out to taste the skin on his neck and JJ nearly blew his load right then and there.

“If you don’t stop..” JJ’s words trailed off as you took a chunk of his flesh between your teeth.. and sucked. You marked him. He knew it. He could feel the heat behind your bite and the way your tongue thrashed at the skin.

JJ sucked in a breath as he cupped your pussy harder, dipping his hand low enough to find your slit while his other hand pushed you down harder on his cock. You were trembling again but it wasn’t from fear.

“Is this what you wanted? Use me to get off? Your boyfriend not doing it for you?” Jealousy washed over him at the thought of Rafe touching you and you weren’t even his.

“I’m not close to getting off.” You finally spoke, an edge to your voice that made him smirk. If you weren’t in the middle of a house party, JJ would impale you on his cock and hold you there, not letting you move until you were left a whimpering, begging mess.

“I can feel how wet you are through your fucking shorts.”

“That’s normal when you’re sitting in someone’s lap.” Her smart mouth surprises him and he doesn’t think as he moves his hand between the two of your bodies and dives his fingers under the cuff of your shorts. JJ’s rings dig into your skin as his fingers stroke your slit, the evidence of your arousal no longer a lie.

“So this is normal? It would take nothing for me to slip inside you with all this.” JJ growled, pressing firmly against your clit. You jerked, biting him again in anger. JJ chuckled, circling your clit over and over again until your body shook and your nails pierced his chest through his shirt. You whimper against his neck, fighting the urge to roll your body against his hand.

“Okay.. okay.. stop.. please..” You practically beg, burying your face against his shoulder.

“Not till you cum. Show me how not wet you are or how close you are. Lie to me again.” JJ’s teeth sink into your shoulder and you shatter.

“Oh god..” Your body tightens just as his fingers dip inside your aching pussy and his free hand finds your hair, pulling hard. Your orgasm gushes from you and the only thing muffling your sounds is the music and his shirt between your teeth as you rode out your high.

“Yep. Feels pretty dry to me.” JJ’s sarcasm was evident as his hand slid out of your shorts and you sat up in his lap with a glare. His intense blue gaze didn’t leave yours as he popped two of his fingers into his mouth, tasting you and humming in delight. You licked your suddenly dry lips as he lowered his hand to smirk at you.

“Not bad for a Kook.”

[crappymixtape]

because of you • part three

PART I • PART II • PART IV • PART V • EPILOGUE // REQ -> @sattlersquarry ❝ an enemies to lovers fic with Steve? 💙 maybe they have to put aside their differences to fight upside down stuff and realize they actually have a lot in common 👀 • 18+ | ( 3.1k – little bit of king!steve, mostly angst with a dash of fluff, enemies to idiots in love, steve x reader )

B E C A U S E O F Y O U •  P A R T T H R E E 🎶 thick skull ( re: julien baker ), paramore ft. julien baker

❝ GOOD GIRLS DON’T CRY & GOOD GIRLS DON’T LIE & GOOD GIRLS JUSTIFY BUT I DON’T ❞

“Think she’s okay?”

“Shh!”

“What? No way she can hear us back here.”

“Dustin, ‘back here��� is literally a seat behind her.”

Sat quietly at a table seat in the Winnebago, Eddie looking on worriedly across from you, you were still grappling with the fact that you were alive. That you didn’t die. That you were breathing fresh air and free from the dark and free from Him.

For now.

And as the RV bumped down the road out of Hawkins you said nothing. Felt Steve’s eyes on you constantly as he glanced at you in the rearview. Eddie’s hand still holding tight to yours after he helped you up, afraid to lose you again. Dustin and Lucas and Max all talking in not-so-hushed voices behind you about what it all meant and if El could get back in time and was this all gonna be enough?

Voice thick and choked by the sobs that had felt endless, you’d managed to tell everyone what Vecna had showed you. Told them about Hawkins, about the monsters, about your family, about them. Eddie, Robin, Nancy Steve. And no one had said anything at first. The sounds of your cries filling up the RV. Stark against the silence and heavy with the weight of your words and they knew before you’d even opened your mouth that it was going to be bad.

Of course they knew.

But now that Vecna had revealed his master plan, the efforts you were all making just felt hopeless. The munitions stuffed under the bench seats and closets and cabinets, all puny and worthless against Vecna and his army of nightmares.

A big bump in the road brought you out of your thoughts and when you glanced up your eyes met Steve’s as he snuck another look in the rear view. And instead of glaring, instead of flipping him the bird, you looked right back. Held his gaze for moment longer and he didn’t shy away until he came up on a turn-off.

“Alright, shitheads. We’re here.”

“Here?” Lucas asked, more than confused at the thick forest Steve was now driving you all through.

“Yeah, this is it.”

And as the trees slowly thinned out, thick grass and wildflower blooms took their place. Creeping out ahead of you to reveal a meadow, wide and green and lush. A haven that felt so very far away, felt safe, and as Steve parked and the engine quieted you let out the breath you’d been holding.

❝ MAYBE IF YOU JUST GOT SOME GUTS WE’D KILL ‘EM WITH A THOUSAND CUTS AND SAY WE DID IT OUT OF LOVE ❞

Everyone piled out of the RV and got after their tasks. Pretended like preparing for the end of the world was totally normal and routine. Nancy and Robin sawing off the end of a shotgun. Lucas and Erica attempting to make spears from tactical knives and broom handles. Eddie and Dustin shoving each other around in the grass with their garbage can lids full of nails at their feet and none of it instilled you with confidence, but Dustin screaming No wedgies! did manage to pull a little smile out of you.

And for a split second it felt okay.

Laughter, the sound of birds, the feeling of the wind on your bare skin and all the green around you – so unlike the cracked and bitter feeling in the Upside Down and then your smile fell.

You wished He hadn’t shown you.

Wished Vecna had just left you alone. Wished for just a moment that you hadn’t gone to Max’s trailer and put yourself in the middle of all this, but then Eddie grabbed Dustin in a big bear hug and your chest squeezed.

Your best friend.

The reason why you had gone to Max’s trailer.

The reason why you weren’t going to run.

The reason this was all worth it.

“Ah, shit.”

Sat next to you, Steve sucked in a breath through gritted teeth. The funnel in your hands slipping as you lost focus and liquid trickled down your hands and wrists.

“Hold it still,” Steve quickly tipped back his can of kerosene and set it down to grab a piece of ripped towel.

A string of curses were muttered under your breath, so much for homemade molotov cocktails.

Cheeks burning with embarrassment you went to wipe your hands on your sweater, but when you looked back up at Steve he was looking too. Eyes searching yours, unsure and tentative. Moles dotting along his cheeks and jaw like tiny constellations. Skin gold like it held summer and when you blinked away the haze of him, you realized he was reaching out to you.

“Here, get that off so it doesn’t burn,” he said a little softer. Cloth in one hand, he took yours in the other and wiped at the kerosene.

Oh, fell from your lips. Surprised. Unsure. Your skin buzzing where he touched you and you swallowed thick as you felt your pulse flutter against your neck.

“Uh–here, you can get the rest,” Steve said quickly, like he’d felt it too and hastily passed the cloth off to you, dropping your hand to wipe his on his jeans.

“Thanks,” you mumbled back.

It was quiet for a moment as he cleared his throat and picked up his can of kerosene again. You followed suit and grabbed your empty vodka bottle and funnel. Wordlessly he leaned over to hold your hand in his and once it was steady began pouring again, eyes flicking over to look at you.

“I’m an asshole,” he suddenly admitted, breaking the silence, and you had to focus really hard to not fumble the bottle again.

“I didn’t say it,” you started and he chuckled under his breath. A low, warm thing that made the air around you fizzle and crack like bonfires down at the quarry.

“Didn’t say you did,” he gently pushed back, lips still tugged up into a small, wry smile, but it faded the longer he looked at you. “Listen. I know we aren’t…well, I know I don’t have a great track record,” he said and the change in his tone surprised you. Told you he was serious and you had to look away to try to gather yourself back up again.

"No, really?" you said, all sarcasm, and he huffed another laugh.

“Hah hah,” he joked, weakly at first, and then his expression shifted more serious. “I just wanted to say that…well, that you have every right to be here it’s just–” the boy hummed around his words. Dropped his gaze down to where your hands met on the kerosene filled vodka bottle and put the can on the ground.

Talking to you like this, showing weakness and vulnerability, made him feel so exposed. Uncomfortable. Unable to find the right words and his tongue jammed into his cheek as he tried to decide just how honest he wanted to be.

With you.

“It’s just–everything about the Upside Down wants to kill you and it’s like–” he sighed heavy and carded a hand through his already messy hair. “I dunno. How many more people have to die? You know?” and then he was looking at you again. Really looking, really asking, and for a second it made you doubt everything you felt about him.

Jock. Asshole. King Steve.

No second chances, remember?

“Can I ask you something?” you heard yourself say and you could feel the muddled mixture of nerves and frustration and anticipation buzzing under your skin. Everything you’d been holding onto all this time pent up and pushing against the wall you’d built around it. Waiting waiting waiting for you to set it loose.

“Oh–sure, yeah.”

“Why are you really here?”

Steve’s eyes grew wide and he sat back on his milk crate, hands squeezing at the tops of his thighs.

“Why am I here?”

“Yeah. Do you really care about Eddie?”

Steve’s eyes darted back over to where Eddie and Dustin were hammering more nails into their garbage can lids and maybe you were impatient or maybe Steve was stalling, but you didn’t want to wait.

“Cos you didn’t care about him before.”

“B-before? I don’t–what d'you mean–”

Steve was stumbling over himself now, struggling to own the words you put on him and frustration grew warm in your chest, but you tried hard to swallow it down. Tried hard to let him prove Eddie’s theory of change.

“High school, Harrington,” you started, trying to keep your tone even and calm. “Yelled at us in the quad? Tossed people’s books in the hallway? Threw fries at us in the cafeteria.” You paused, debated whether or not you wanted to tack more on, and then you thought of Tommy and it came out all on its own, “Let your friends say really shitty things to me.”

Steve’s gaze dropped down to his feet and he didn’t say anything at first, not a word, and you kicked yourself for even bothering to think he’d be able to handle it. Of course he couldn’t.

“You know what–nevermind,” you mumbled, capping your bottle and moving to stand, but his hand grabbed yours and pulled you back down onto your milk crate.

“Wait. Please?”

And the way he was looking at you was pained, the pinch between his brows deep, and it made you pause. Was Eddie right? The way Steve cared for these kids, for your best friend, showed clearly something had shifted in him, but was it enough?

“Wait for what, Harrington? So you can show me things are different now?” your voice was softer, but hurt, “Because Eddie swears you’ve changed, but you still sound just like Tommy.”

The mention of his ex-best friend felt like getting the wind knocked out of him. He knew Tommy was wrong now. Hell, he knew it back then too. Knew how fucked up it'd been in the parking lot at the school, but he hadn’t had the guts to say anything. Couldn’t stand up to him or tell him off because he ‘had a reputation to uphold’ and what would everyone else say if he went ‘soft on a freak’?

“I–I know. I fucked up. I get it and I don’t know how I can prove it to you, but–” he started truthfully, hand still holding yours, thumb shifting softly against your palm, “–but I am. Really sorry.”

Really sorry.

Finally. After all those years. After everything he’d said and done, but sorry didn’t fix it. Or take any of it back. Was it too late?

Reluctantly you pulled your hand away from Steve’s, his fingers flexing as they fell away from yours, wanting to hold on just a little bit longer but you weren’t ready.

“You know that doesn’t fix it, right?” you said quietly, glancing up at Steve through the long sweep of your lashes and guilt settled heavy over him.

He knew it didn’t fix it. Knew all too well that words didn’t mean shit, but he would be the first to admit he was a slow learner. Crawl before you walk. Hit your head and maybe something will suddenly make sense and when it came to you? Vecna had been like a sucker punch.

You were strong-willed. Didn’t take shit lying down. Were fiercely loyal to your best friend and just wanted to try to help and it had taken Steve a minute to realize – in your eyes he was still bullshit, but he didn’t want to be. It wasn’t going to be easy, not in the least, but just like you he wanted to try.

“I know it doesn’t fix it.”

His eyes squeezed shut so he didn’t have to look at you. Tried to make it easier on himself as he pushed through the discomfort of taking responsibility for his actions. Tongue running along his bottom lip, just like it always did when his brain was working overtime, he finally looked back up at you.

“I’m not asking you for forgiveness or–or to be my friend or anything. I just want you know I really am sorry. For all of it. Okay?”

Sitting there so close to him, your hands inches away from touching, holding each other’s gaze as you listened to the words falling from his lips in sincerity – it was almost too much. The wall you’d built around yourself cracking and straining against this new feeling that had settled in your chest, but the words wouldn’t come to you as your lips parted and you tried and pull yourself together but–

“Dammit, Eddie, no wedgies!”

Dustin’s voice cut through the silence that had settled and Steve reflexively sat up. Pushed himself away from whatever it was you’d waded into together. Away from sorry and the feeling of your hands pressed together and the look you gave him through the long sweep of your lashes and the way you made his heart race. Turned away from you and played it off.

“Hey! Less dicking around, more putting shit together!” he yelled at Dustin and Eddie flipped him off without looking.

“Like you’re doing anything important, big boy!” Eddie hollered back and the way it made Steve’s cheeks grow pink made your lips twitch with a smile you had to work hard to hold back.

“Shut up,” Steve muttered at Eddie, but mostly to himself, and stood from his milk crate to put your filled vodka bottle into the box with the rest.

You watched quietly as he placed the last bottle in and folded the cardboard shut. Muscles tensing and pulling taut as he worked, moving against the fabric of his shirt and you quickly looked away for fear of being caught.

Then your eye caught his nail covered bat tipped against side of the Winnebago and the threat of the Upside Down and all its nasties wrapped around you tight like a vice.

Oh.

Right.

The end of the world.

Just a few yards away Nancy pulled the trigger on her shotgun, the sound making you flinch, and it hit you like a ton of bricks – you had absolutely no clue how to defend yourself against this. Against Him. Against an army from hell. You knew how to throw a punch and knee someone in the crotch and you’d always had an arm on you from playing volleyball, but none of that had anything to do with monsters. Or guns. Or nail covered bats.

“Uhm–” came out mumbled, more sound than word, and it pulled Steve’s attention up from the box.

“What’s that?”

“Can you–er–would you maybe show me how to swing that?” you asked and it made him turn to face you, giving you his full attention.

“What?”

Your cheeks grew hot.

“That bat,” you said shifting uncomfortably on your crate, “I don’t think–I can't shoot a gun.”

Steve’s expression softened as he remembered what it'd felt like the first time he saw a demogorgon. The first time he swung that very bat into the side of a demodog. The first time this world had been exposed to him and he knew how overwhelming and absolutely crazy it all felt.

Grabbing the bat in his hand he gave you a small smile and took the few steps back over to you.

“Sure. It’s not too hard. You know, just aim and swing.”

“Just aim and swing?” your tone was flat, all skeptics, a defensive move against his kindness and it made him chuckle.

“Well, there’s probably more to it than that, but those stupid bats are thick enough when they swarm it’d be hard for anyone to miss.”

Your eyes grew wide at the thought of swarming bats and it made him laugh again, a half-grimace pulling at his features.

“Shit, sorry. Uh–here,” readjusting his grip he bent his knees a bit and dug his heel into the ground. “Just make sure you get a wide stance, yeah? Like, hip width apart? And don’t be afraid to choke up on your hold. It’ll make your swings hit harder.”

He swung the bat and the sound it made as it cut through the air made your breath catch in your throat.

“Wanna try?” the boy held the crude weapon out to you and you swallowed thick. Stood up from your own milk crate and tentatively took it from him.

It was heavy in your hands, heavier than you thought it’d be, but smooth. You did as he said and slid your hands up a little further on the handle and tried a swing, but threw yourself off balance and stumbled forward.

“Ah, that’s okay. Here, uh–” Steve stepped in behind you and placed his hands over yours on the bat, “–try again, but follow through with your hip. Your grip’s good, just don’t throw your full weight forward.”

The warmth of his chest on your back made your cheeks burn again. Made your heart race. Hammering against your ribcage as he slowly took you through the motion again.

“Then when you get to the end of the swing, follow with your hip," his voice was much quieter over your shoulder, words falling into your ear and making you dizzy as he tried so damn hard to keep his focus. Placed a hand on your waist to guide it and toed your foot forward with his shoe as he took a step. “See?”

“Yeah,” was all you could manage, the feeling of his breath on your neck trailing goosebumps across your skin and you couldn’t help it. Couldn’t help the way the closeness of him pulled your gaze and when you looked up he was looking too.

“Does that–uh–did that make sense?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper and you nodded. A small thing that barely registered and he was so close now. Close enough his nose nearly brushed your cheek, getting closer by the second and–

“Harrington! Where are those bottles? I gotta get ‘em loaded up!” Eddie yelled from the other side of the RV and the space between you shattered. Both of you stepping away as though you’d touched a hot stove and you pressed the bat into Steve’s hands.

“Should probably get ready,” you muttered and he nodded, cleared his throat and took two big steps back to set the bat down.

“Coming!” Steve called back as he scooped up the box of molotov cocktails, bottles clinking against each other as he walked away and disappeared around the corner of the RV.

King Steve turned Steve Harrington.

Steve Harrington turned something else.

Something more.

Something you thought you’d written off.

Something that held you so tightly now it made you want to run, but at the back of your mind, somewhere soft and warm, you couldn’t help wondering what might happen if you didn’t.

[ NOTE: THIS IS PART THREE OF A – POSSIBLY – FIVE PART SERIES, PART FOUR AND FIVE TO COME SOON ]

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist♥️ reblogs and comments keep me going, friends! ily! ♥️

[nightlyrequiem]

It’s my first time sending ideas so sorry if I’m not clear enough 😔.

I have a vague idea of Valeria x fem! Reader being on an arranged marriage, readers family owed big money to el sin nombre therefore your fam didn’t had enough to pay desperate for forgiveness Valeria offers taking you instead and leaving your loved ones alone. You were feisty at first not fond of the idea until you knew you were trapped without a way out, accepted your destiny, it wasn’t that bad at the end you had a luxury and power. U can add smut if your write too 🤭..

-🦋🦂

Hi! This is such a fun idea. I've always wanted to try my hand at writing the arranged marriage trope. If it were me being married off to Valeria, I'd fold so fast, can't even lie. That woman has me in a chokehold. Also, so sorry this took me a bit, life finds a way of getting in the way 😔

This is also longer than the one-shots I typically write. About 3019 words :3

Tags/Warnings: Arranged Marriage, kidnapping, WLW, Smut ✂️

In Sickness and in Health

Your relationship with your parents has never been great. Not bad, but not what it should or could be. They never treated you horribly, didn't scream at you or beat you as a child. They just kind of left you alone. They cared, in some way. But deep down you know you'll never come first to them. You've never come first for anyone. Which is why you're feeling a little confused when one day, your parents start really paying attention. Feeding you healthy meals, Booking doctor's appointments. Inquiring about where you've been. You're a little old for them to be trying to parent you. You've been saving up money to move out of town, your brain is only a few years short of full development.

You like the attention though. It feels good to be noticed and worried after. To look into your mother's eyes and see interest instead of boredom is something you could get used to. One Saturday night your parents sat you down in the living room and told you to pack everything you'd need for a long vacation. Your father had been saving up money so you could travel Europe together. Your mother didn't seem as excited as you expected her to be but who are you to deny yourself the chance to experience Europe? So many countries you could visit. Austria, Romania, Czechia? With your parents no less. Maybe things will be different. You can still have a good relationship with them.

You're confused when you get home from work one night a few weeks later to see a woman and three suspiciously dressed men. The balaclavas unnerve you, but your parents are sitting in the living room with them calmly. There is of course a hint of unease identifiable in their body language but there's no sense of urgency. Everyone's head turns to look at you, much to your discomfort. You're still wearing the skimpy waitress uniform from the club you work at. Your steps slow to an insecure stop. The woman drags her gaze over your body.

"Am I interrupting something?" You ask awkwardly. You don't like the look of these people.

"No, Honey." Your mother murmurs. Giving you a strained smile. "Come in and have a seat, we have some... some things to discuss."

You can tell by the tone of her voice that whatever it is, isn't good. Reluctantly you walk into the living room. Sitting down next to your mother. She puts a heavy hand on your shoulder but doesn't look at you.

"This is Valeria." She says quietly. "Valeria, this is my daughter." She says your name. You glance at your dad, confused by the situation. He also refuses to meet your gaze. staring ahead stoically. Valeria smiles and offers her hand.

"It's nice to finally meet you." Her tone is light and friendly. You still don't trust her.

"Sure." You nod. Taking her hand and shaking it. It's softer than you were expecting. Your mother gives your shoulder a squeeze.

"Do you know why I'm here?" Valeria asks. You feel a hint of dread. 

"No."

Valeria turns to your mother. "Why don't you tell her?" She says.

You also turn to look at your mother. Your brows furrowing. Your mother sighs and rubs her hands like they're cold.

"Your father and I..." She trails off. "We made a mistake." You stay quiet, letting her continue. "And we owe some money to some..." She casts a furtive look at Valeria. "Some dangerous people."

You frown. You don't have to ask to know it's the cartel. Although, they seem to be pretty civil. The situation isn't so dire. Not yet anyway. "Is that how you're able to afford this sudden vacation?" You ask. "You borrowed money?"

"There isn't a vacation." Your father pipes up. You turn your head to look at him, confused.

"You cancelled it?" You ask him, feeling disappointed. Unless the money hasn't already been spent you don't know why you can't go anyway.

"No, there wasn't one to begin with." He clarifies.

"You had me pack for one." You reply sharply. Time and time again they'll never fail to disappoint you.

Valeria leans back.

"A vacation?" She murmurs, raising a groomed brow. "It's one thing to not tell your daughter, but to get her to pack her things under false pretenses? You're colder than I thought." She sounds amused, which only adds to the growing pit of dread in your stomach.

"What are you talking about?" You snap. Addressing everyone. "Why did I pack? What's going on?" Neither of your parents will look at you but your dad answers your question.

"You'll be leaving with Valeria."

His quiet words stun you. A warm, soft hand grabs yours and you look at it's owner. Valeria has her eyes narrowed at you. "I'll take good care of you." She promises.

You rip your hand from hers like you were burned.

"What do you mean?" You grit out. You're confused and everyone's answers are only giving you more questions.

"Valeria has agreed to forgive our debt in exchange for you." Your mother whispers.

"I am not a bartering piece. What the hell is wrong with you?" You hiss at her. Hurt and afraid. You don't want to go with this woman. Your mother looks up at you with sorrowful eyes.

"They would've killed us." She says. "You understand it's between life and death, right? Please, just do this for us." Just do this for us. What have they ever done for you? Why are you paying for their irresponsible actions?

"No." You snap. "You don't get to ignore me for my entire life and then demand that I sacrifice myself for you." 

"You don't have much of a choice." Valeria says casually. She crosses her arms over her chest and gives you a cold look. "I'm taking you regardless of what you want."

You level her with a stubborn glare.

"You'll have to drag me out kicking and screaming." You mutter. Already you hate this smug woman. 

Valeria simply shrugs. "That can be arranged." Suddenly one of the big, masked men descends upon you. Roughly hauling you to your feet. You gasp and struggle. Kicking and squirming. You're much weaker than you thought. "Bring her to the car." 

"Put me down!" You cry out. You make it as hard as you can. Dragging your feet and thrashing. You try to wrap your ankles around a chair leg, but he just gives you a sharp yank, dislodging you.

You're rudely shoved into the back of a nondescript black car. You swiftly pull back your fingers back as he slams the door, narrowly avoiding having them crushed. You stare at your dark reflection in the tinted window, you're in shock. In the span of ten minutes your life has changed. You try to open the door but to no one's surprise it's locked. You look towards the front. There's a man in the driver's seat scrolling on his phone. You know better than to ask him for help.

You look around. This isn't happening. You scoot to the other door but just before you touch the handle it swings open. You startle and back up against the other side. Valeria gets in beside you. Calm and pleased, like the cat who caught the canary.

"Your bags are in the other car." She says to you. "If there's anything you're missing just let me know."

"My freedom and rights." You growl. Valeria gives you a small smile.

"Cute. That attitude will get old fast though." She remarks. She buckles herself in and tells the driver to go.

The silence is heavy and foreboding. You can't stand it, and you can't stand not knowing why she's doing this to you.

"Why did you take me?" You ask.

"Because I wanted you." She says simply. Wanted you. Like you were a nice coat or necklace she saw in a shop window.

"What are you going to do to me?" You question. All kinds of grim possibilities flash through your mind.

"You're very inquisitive." Valeria mutters. Turning to look out her window.

"Answer me." You demand. Valeria sighs.

"We are going to get married. Your parents owe me money, but I've been watching you and I've decided that you'd make a fair exchange."

Her words give you pause. "Marriage? You've been stalking me?" You don't know which one you want to be more upset over.

"No, watching." She corrects. "I frequent the club you work at for business, and I see you all the time."

"So that means you have to force me into a marriage with you? What's the point?" You snap at her.

Valeria scoffs at you. "Having a pretty woman waiting at home for you is a big morale booster."

You scowl at her.

"I'm not marrying you. You can't do this." You say angrily. "This is kidnapping, it's not legal." The town passes by through the windows. Buildings become less and less frequent.

"No?" Valeria replies irately. "Really? Kidnapping is illegal?" She sounds annoyed. As if your distress is inconveniencing her.

"You can't do this to me!" You raise your voice. Valeria's hand shoots out quick as a snake strike to grab your face roughly. Squishing your cheeks painfully.

"I can do whatever the hell I want, and I'm going to let you know right here right now that I will not tolerate your whining." She says with a dangerously quiet voice. 

The rest of the drive passes by in a blur. The car finally stops outside of a nice-looking house, and you're ushered out by Valeria. She drapes an arm over your shoulder. You shrug it off, but she just puts it back on you. Pulling you close with more force than she needs to. A warning. She leads you to the large front doors. Staying on the stone pathway bisecting the yard. Wild plants and cacti sprout up from the dry ground. You don't get much time to observe the scenery as you're dragged inside.

Even the way the lights illuminate the foyer are wealthy. The floors are polished and clean. The door rug is also somehow clean. Even the side tables are matching. Not at all like the mismatched furniture at your house. The men drop off your bags and leave. Closing the door behind them. Valeria lets you take it all in for a few seconds before speaking.

"Do you want something to eat, or do you want to take a shower first?" Valeria asks you, taking off her shoes and neatly arranging them off to the side.

"I want to go home." You reply.

"You are home, pasta or stir-fry?" 

You scowl at her. "I'm not touching anything you make."

"Then you can go hungry." She shrugs. "The bedroom is upstairs, feel free to use anything in the bathroom.

You started eating after a few days. It felt like a betrayal to yourself, but you were growing weak. You refused to sleep in the bed. Instead bunkering down in the living room. Getting your sleep on the couch. Every day Valeria tried to interact with you and build some kind of a bond and every day you met her efforts with hostility. Everything was much less... eventful than you thought it was going to be. Even the wedding, which wasn't really a wedding. She just took you down to the courthouse where you signed the papers. No dress, no celebration, nothing.

Valeria was also so much more respectful than you thought she was going to be. She uttered a few threats here and there, but nothing came of it. She didn't beat you or force you into bed. You had free reign of the house and occasionally she'd give you things. You pretended you didn't care. That you didn't want anything she got you, but when she was gone you found yourself trying on the clothes and jewelry she bought you. Admiring the way they looked on you. Valeria... wasn't as bad as you thought.

You spent the day on the couch. Stuffing your face and rotting your brain with reality TV. Valeria made you quit your job. You were pissed about it. In no way did you want to be financially dependent on her, but you didn't have a choice. The argument that followed was loud and a little violent. You screamed at each other and threw things. Now that you've taken the time to rest and relax, you think you were a little too harsh. You check the time, noting that it's going to be another few hours before she returns. The dust has settled into an uneasy peace between the two of you. You get up and walk into the clean kitchen. You'll make her an apology dinner. You still don't appreciate her kidnapping you and forcing you into a marriage but it's not that bad. You don't have to work, don't have to worry about money, really what else could you want?

Valeria returns home just as you finish cooking. You nervously watch her walk into the kitchen and lean against the door frame with her arms crossed.

"Smells good." She compliments. You carefully divide the portions up between the two of you.

"Yeah, thought I'd make supper this time." You reply. Placing the plates at opposite ends of the table. You take your seat and look at her. Valeria regards you with caution.

"It's not poisoned, is it?" She asks. You're a little offended but you can't blame her for being wary. Not with how hostile you've been.

"No." You say. "... I wanted to apologize for how I've been acting." Even though your feelings are more than reasonable. Valeria slowly nods and rounds the table, sitting down. 

You begin to hungrily eat but Valeria picks at her food. Clearly not reassured that you didn't do something. Your first instinct is to lash out and get angry but that will get you nowhere. 

"Pass me your bowl." You say. 

"Why?" Valeria asks, furrowing her brows.

"Just do it." You sigh. Valeria slides her bowl over to you from across the table. You make pointed eye-contact as you lift her spoon to your mouth, eating from it. You slide it back. Hoping she decides to eat now.

You finish before she does, just watching her as she eats.

"This is really good." Valeria murmurs between mouthfuls. 

"Thank you." You say, relaxing. "I was just making stuff up as I go." 

Valeria finishes and gets up, taking both bowls to the sink. "You should cook more often." She hesitates by the sink. Watching you. You've been pretty lonely lately, has Valeria always looked that good? Her hair is a little messy and her dark brown eyes are half-lidded. Your eyes rove over her tan, toned forearms and the tattoos that decorate them. You stand and join her by the sink with the excuse of washing the bowls. She doesn't move and your arms brush. Your skin tingles at the contact. You can feel her staring holes into the side of your head.

Valeria clears her throat.

"I got you something." She says, reaching into her back pocket. "Hold out your hand." She gently drops a necklace into your waiting palm. The delicate chain feels cold. You pick it up and look at it. "I found it on the ground, it reminds me of you." 

You frown and look up at her. "Should I be offended?"

Valeria smiles with amusement. "No, it was glinting in the sunlight."

"And that made you think of me?" You murmur dryly. She leans in a little closer.

"Yeah, it was just another thing on the ground, but it shined and caught my attention."

"That's really stupid." You say. Closing your hand around it. You two stare at each other.

Your back hits the wall with a dull thud as Valeria's lips press against yours. You don't remember taking it off, but your shirt is on the floor, the soft fabric protecting your bare feet from the cold. Valeria's hands fumble with her own shirt before you're both left in your bras. Her hand runs down your waist. Savoring the feel of your skin. You grab her shoulders and back her up into the hallway leading into the living room. Her legs hit the edge of the couch. She drags you down, maneuvering herself on top of you. She breaks the kiss to hurriedly slide your pants off of you, wasting no time in palming the heat between your thighs.

Her own pants don't stay on for much longer. Joining yours in a small, crumpled heap beside the couch, your underwear not far to follow. She presses her dripping cunt against yours, making you see stars with how hard she's grinding down. The room is filled with a cacophony of moans and grunts.

"I knew you'd come around." Valeria pants. "You're so good for me, making me dinner, I wish I could get you pregnant."

You feel yourself throb at the comment. "Fuck." You whine. Valeria's tits demand your attention. Bouncing in your face with each movement. Your hands smooth over her bare back, dragging over her shoulder blades and onto her chest. Valeria grunts as you give them a gentle squeeze, watching the full flesh spill through your fingers.

You shift your legs so you can wrap them around her hips. In turn, Valeria leans down to bury her face into the crook of your neck, biting and kissing you. Your hips buck up to meet hers, your clits dragging against each other. Your orgasm slams into you and you go rigid. A high gasp leaving your parted lips. Valeria isn't too far behind you. Her rhythm breaks but she doesn't still with her climax. She grinds into you, keeping the pleasure up for as long as possible.

She finally slows to a stop and lays her entire weight on you, Sweaty and breathing heavily. 

"Good girl." She whispers. Kissing your neck. One of her hands settles on the side of your face. "Does this mean you're starting to like me?"

You consider her words. This was really just a way to release pent up energy. But, she sounds almost vulnerable and if you're being honest with yourself there's something more than lust making sparks in your stomach. "...I could." You reply softly. "Like you. I think I could do that." Valeria lifts her head and plants a soft kiss onto your lips. Her silent way of acknowledging your words. Maybe this marriage will be a good thing.