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#This chapter was so hard to write so I'm sorry if it's not as good
class1akids · 21 hours
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BNHA 423 - Thoughts (aka how to fumble your ending: a masterclass by Kohei Horikoshi)
I won't have time on Sunday, so I'll write up my chapter thoughts today. Probably the last time for this series (unless we get a Todo-family moment in the epilogue).
I've joined this fandom 6 years ago and written countless meta and analysis. I'm grieving today not that the story has come to an end, but the way it fumbled its landing.
Last chapter: Deku after a combo from everyone Rises to everyone shouting Ganbare and All Might Annointing him as HIS personal Jesus Greatest hero
This chapter:
Everyone's aggregate animosity (including 16 members of Class A - missing: Uraraka, Bakugou, Shoto and Aoyama) and the strength Deku added to OFA in 2 years kill AFO-in-Shigaraki's regen (even though he was engineered by Ujiko to be able to hold OFA).
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Deku punches the body of that little crying boy he yapped about saving of the big bad and it starts to crumble. So AFO looks for a new host in Deku.
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We get to the only good point in this chapter: as Aizawa is yelling for Midoriya, ShiraGiri worries about Tomura. The tragedy of how their lives went in separate ways. The only person on this battlefield who cares about Tomura is Kurogiri
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WTF - I'm emotional. This must help bring Tomura back, right?
Let me see! what's happening on the vestige side?
Is Kurogiri dead? Why?
I NEED ANSWERS!!!
Or fuck that - let's get to Bakugou, because why not. Obviously, he's in desperate need of another highlight.
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Let's even make sure he gets personally praised in case in the last 5 chapters he was not mentioned we forgot how he's the awesomest. Who cares about Kurogiri dying in the background? Who cares about Aizawa's or Mic's feelings? The most important question is how Bakugou got to the battlefield.
Oh, wait, here comes the twist. Remember that crappy little panel of Shoto in the last chapter? No? Don't worry. Neither does 99% of the fandom, except a few die-hard Shoto-fans.
Well, you see, that crappy panel was actually Shoto being hidden as he lifted up Deku at the end of that long combo to give him his last push. And the one above, is not a BKDK combo but an Origin Trio combo. It's just cropped the same way BKDK shippers always crop Shoto out of any Trio pictures.
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Congratulations, Kohei Horikoshi-sensei! What an amazing twist. You managed to write Schroedinger's Origin Trio scene! It happened, but maybe it never did. Thanks for stringing me along all these years through the rollercoaster rides of Origins and Risings. I'll take that playground from you and give it to fanfic writers who actually care about maintaining it.
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While Bakugou is yelling in the background, Deku is pulling a Mirio on AFO and calls him friendless. The worst thing that can happen to a Shonen boss.
There is some incomprehensible mumbo jumbo about OFA-magic - but don't worry peeps - it's all a set-up for Deku getting it back (in case you are one of the people who seems really to be worried about that)
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And then AFO realizes - due to Deku transferring the last bit just so - that he was just a sad little human who loved his brother all along. Yoichi's lifelong efforts to make an impact on AFO didn't do anything. Only the Jesus-Punch-of-Magic did. Too bad.
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Oh no, the whole fucking peanut gallery is back to nobody's surprise. (Actually All Might is missing, which may suggest Deku will only get the stockpile back). Even if Deku gets OFA back, please don't transfer these guys back. I'm so sick of them. They were a total waste of time and took Deku's precious real estate for introspection. Fuck that. I don't actually care. Deku has been damaged beyond repair.
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GROUP FIST BUMP!!! Amazing Climax. Maybe a double spread, Sensei?
HK: Sorry, I used up my double spread quota on Bakugou!
I'm not one to criticize Horikoshi's artstyle, but boy, this panel is so underwhelming compared to the stuff he drew in this endgame. Is this your big AFO vs OFA clash????
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What happens when Ghost Fist collides with Real blood? Of course, it will transfer all that sweet Ghost-DNA!!!
Aka - Horikoshi is saying - Don't worry, Deku won't be quirkless.
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OK. Well. Let's move on.
Here is another line from Horikoshi's outline. Did you want to see a heart-warming scene between Nana and Tenko? Too bad for you. You get Bakugou, you voted for him.
(Btw, Shoto is not the only one who doesn't seem to be allowed to have a proper scene with his mom, I guess Tenko cannot even get an emotional afterlife scene. If you are an abuse-victim in story, Horikoshi says - fuck you! Take a swan dive and hope to be reborn as a bully in your next life).
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Well, at least Tomura noticed that Kurogiri mysteriously died after Horikoshi couldn't think up an actual proper endgame for him.
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OK, onto the MAIN ANTAGONIST's final monologue. It will be deep after being built for 400 chapters, right?
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Shigaraki: Well, I didn't even manage to destroy your hand. I amount to just a crying boy.
Deku: Well, I still hate you for stabbing Kacchan and the others. (forget the others, I never cared about the others). I killed you because I was sick of your moping it's the International Board of Therapist's recommended therapy for victims of abuse and grooming.
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Shigaraki: Well, what do I say to that. That's so fucking stupid.
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Shigaraki: And to my gay little boyfriend, I leave my treasured Nintendo controller.
Deku: Yeah, whatever. I don't really have any thoughts. I've stopped introspection in Act 2. Your life sucked. You need to fuck off now and stop spreading the sadness, I have a victory punch to perform.
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Deku: This is the story of how I became the greatest hero by punching the fuck out of this crying, abused little boy and then bathing myself in his nasty pixie dust. killing 2 main villains for the price of 1 in under 7 pages and changed the weather for the dudebros on Twitter can cry about the blue sky in the anime again. I also eradicated sadness with punching it hard enough.
Also - I probably still have a quirk. Tune in to find out in two weeks.
Sensei, with all due respect - this chapter was ass. Visually, thematically, from a storytelling point of view. Even the good ideas were executed badly or were crammed in with terrible ideas. What a fucking let-down.
Will Shigaraki go and be the hero of the villains?
I can see him reconstruct with Overhaul and magic, or I can see that we will get a reveal where Deku had the Lion Turtle solution all along and he has punched Shigaraki just at the angle to magically manifest 5-year old crying Tenko and save him and he was cold and aloof because he already "saved the boy".
I can see a BS solution incoming. But it will not fix this chapter for sure, nor the broader writing issues with Deku's character and with the Deku - Tomura dynamic.
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sentientcave · 17 days
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Retirement Party
Chapter Three - Smoke and Whiskey
<< First Chapter - < Prev Chapter - Next Chapter >
Contains: No Y/N, Kidnapping, Forcible relocation, Generally creepy behaviour, Alcohol mention, Smoking mention (Tobacco, cannabis), plus-sized reader, female reader, There is something fucking wrong with these guys for real, More reader details given, but we're still pretty vague about it. Even though it is hard for me.
~3.2k
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When you go back inside, you wind up wedged between John and Ghost on the bigger couch. Johnny’s stretched out on the smaller one, and Gaz claimed the chair that you’d been sitting in earlier, leaving you with no other option. Neither of them makes any effort to give you more space, even though they could. Ghost’s leg is pressed against yours from thigh to ankle, and John’s pinky finger keeps finding your thigh when he rests his tumbler against his knee. You want to curl up properly, tuck your feet up underneath yourself, but you can't without pressing even closer to at least one of them. At least Ghost isn’t quite as intimidating without his mask on.
After a while, Gaz and Ghost go out for a cigarette. The chair looks inviting, and you’d like to get a little space, but Price’s arm drops around your shoulders casually, pulling you in a little closer to his side. “Relax,” he says against the top of your head. “You’re alright, doll.”
The door opens again. “Soap, we’ve got a spliff, you want?” Gaz asks.
Johnny picks himself off the other couch, grinning. “Aye. An’ then cake?”
“Fuckin’ forgot about cake,” Ghost says. “Hey doll, d’you want some of this? Cap?”
“Who rolled it?” John asks. “Because I’m not smoking one of Gaz’s joints ever again.”
“Oh fuck off, Price, I can roll just fine.”
John looks at you and shakes his head slightly. “He really can’t.”
“I can roll,” you say. “I always do with my friends.”
You can see the calculation running behind John's eyes as he adds new information to what he knows and assumes about you. You want to laugh. You almost do. Most people take one look at you, with your big doe eyes and round face and and sunny disposition and think that you're some innocent little thing. Sure, you tend to live life with your arms open, and that might come across as naive to some, but you're not inexperienced by any means. You're nearly thirty years old, you're by no means a child.
"Let's see, then," he says. "Box on the coffee table has everything."
"Does tha' mean we can smoke inside again?" Soap asks. "It's startin' ta get pure Baltic out here."
John looks at you expectantly. "Up to you, doll."
"It's not my house."
He hums. "You're stayin' a while. Might as well be. It's important that you're comfortable."
You slide to the floor and reach for the box. "Well. You'd better open a window or two. But I don't mind."
Making a fuss over the semantics isn't worth doing. You probably are staying a while. Even if John really won't force you, you'll still need his cooperation to get all your stuff loaded back into the van, and all four of them are likely headed for hangovers.
John tells them to open the windows, and leans forward to watch you break up slightly sticky buds into the grinder. He brushes your hair behind your shoulders for you, and when you tip your head back to look at him, there's something in his eyes that makes your ears warm.
Johnny drops down to the floor on the other side of the table, a crumpled looking joint hanging out of his mouth. You can see what John means about not wanting to smoke it.
"You want a drink, doll?" Gaz asks. "More tea?"
You twist to look at him, hanging over the back of the couch, that handsome face smiling. "Have you got pop? Wouldn't mind a ginger ale."
"Got irn bru too," Soap suggests. "Ye've got some Scot in ye, aye?"
"Yes."
"Didja want more?"
You level an unimpressed look at him across the table. "I should've seen that one coming."
"I'd like to see ye com--"
"That'll do, Soap," John says firmly. "She's not goin' to have sex with you."
"Might feel a bit better if she did," Soap says, shrugging. "Ah'm just sayin'."
"You're not saying anything." Gaz sets an unopened can of ginger ale on the table next to you. "If you're gagging for it, we'll take care of you in a bit."
"And if you don't behave yourself you're not goin' to get anything," John rumbles from behind you. "She's been good. Surprised none of you have been slapped."
"Just the once." Gaz snags the joint from Johnny and sits back in the chair.
Ghost snorts. "What did you do?"
"Surprised her picking her up. My own fault."
You lean back and hold up the neat joint you've been rolling, hooking your arm over John's knee. He sets his whiskey to the side and takes it, holding it up for an inspection. "Nice work, doll," he says warmly. “Got a bit of a wild streak to you, eh?”
The praise makes you glow, despite yourself, and you laugh aloud at the second part, a real laugh, not nervous or bitter. All four of them shift their attention to you at the sound, snapping a tension you hadn’t noticed until you felt it’s absence. It’s important to them that you feel comfortable, and your genuine laughter is the first sign that you’re on your way. They really did think that they’d done you a favour.
Insane. But almost sweet, in a fucked up, unsettling way.
You pluck the joint out of John’s fingers and meet his dark blue eyes evenly, not missing the hunger that sparks into existence. “Got a light?”
John pulls his lighter out of his pocket, a little awkward with you leaning on his other leg, and holds the dancing flame out for you. You have to lean in a little to get to it, so you do, your eyes still locked on his as you inhale, the slight sizzle of paper and weed igniting clear in the otherwise silent room. You can hear the way his breath catches too, taken by surprise yet again. You offer the joint back to him, holding in a lungful of smoke.
“Shite,” Johnny hisses, breaking the heavy silence. “Yer absolutely sure ye dinnae want your cunt licked?”
You blow smoke at him from across the coffee table. “I’m sure.”
It doesn’t take long before drowsy complacency overtakes you. Curling up against John’s leg, your arm still hooked over his leg, you let conversation wash over your awareness, not paying enough attention to pick out one thing or another. John’s hand settles on your head, fingers threading into your dark hair, combing through soft strands idly. When you glance up at him, he’s watching you, blue eyes half-lidded but still plenty aware, a funny smile twisting the edges of his mouth upwards. He has nice lips under that bristling moustache of his, not as thin as you would have expected. His voice is a pleasant rumble when he speaks to the others,
He takes a sip of whiskey, and you follow the bob of his throat as he swallows, the way the tip of his tongue darting across his lips. It takes a moment for you to realize that he’s watching you study him.
“Hello, beautiful,” he says. “How are you feeling?”
For the first time since you’ve been there, you don’t feel scared. Just dozy and content, like a cat curled up next to a fireplace. “I’m alright,” you admit. “It’s been a strange day.”
His fingers flex, not quite gripping your hair, just holding you in place with the lightest pressure, encouraging you to keep facing him rather than turning away. “I imagine so.” His hand glides along to your ear, his thumb grazing over the shell, sending shivers down your spine. “It won’t be so strange tomorrow.”
“No more surprises planned?”
John glances up, looking at each of his men in turn, and then back to you. “Doesn’t look like it.”
“We do have cake, though,” Soap says. “Ye want some, bonnie?”
“Yes please.” You only turn to look at Soap for a moment before John is gently coaxing you back, curling his fingers around your jaw. Can he feel the way your heart leaps into your throat, thrumming like a hummingbird’s wings? It’s hard to look John in the eye, but harder still to pull yourself away. His touch leaves burning traces behind, and you’re all too aware of your body and the way you respond to him. It’s all too much, too soon and too strange.
He catches your hand when you try to brush his away. “Why don’t you come on back up here, doll?” he asks. “Be more comfortable than the floor, don’t you think?”
“No, I’m happy down here.” You tuck your knees to your chest, looping your arms around your legs, extricating yourself from his sphere of influence just a little. You’re still pressed up against his calf, but you don’t need to go that far, you just need to face forward so you won’t get pinned under that blue stare again.
John has a certain gravity, a magnetism that you can’t help but be drawn in by. It would be all too easy to sink into his arms, but the idea that you’d been given to him still bothers you, like a persistent, sharp little stone in your shoe, ruining what might have been something.
You perk up some when Soap hands you a plate with a slice of chocolate cake on it. It's not the prettiest thing you've ever seen, but it tastes incredible, rich dark chocolate and an icing that had so much whiskey in it that your teeth feel funny after a few bites.
"This is really good, Johnny," you tell him. "If the whole military thing doesn't work out, you could consider becoming a baker."
"Thanks, hen. And dinnae think I havena considered it. Gettin' closer to packin' it in awl the time. Just cannae leave Gaz until he's got a good team watchin' his back."
"We've got some good sergeants," Gaz says. "Nitro's got real promise."
"Shivs too. Little devil," Ghost adds. "You need a door smasher though. Those girls are tough as 'ell, but some occasions call for a big boot."
"Aye, ye'd say that, bein' the biggest fuckin' boot the Queen's army has ever seen."
"King now," John points out.
"Oh, fuck if I care which poncy arsed Windsor is sittin' in the big chair."
"Bloody leeches," Ghost agrees.
"I've got Sanderson in mind." Gaz winks at you, like you're in on some secret.
"Gary Sanderson? Is he no' dead?"
"No! Turns out he locked himself in a cryo chamber when the bomb went off. That facility was full of 'em, all kinds of experimental tech. It was finally safe to take a team in and we found him. Nitro started calling him Roach, and it's stuck."
"He's a damn good soldier. Be good for the taskforce," Price agrees. "Would've picked him ten years ago."
"Well, he's had a nice long nap, and he's hopping mad about missing so much. He'll make a good doorsmasher," Gaz says.
"How about that Lucky kid? Nitro’s brother.” Price asks. “He looked pretty promising. Unless his luck ran out.”
Gaz hums, licking frosting off his fork. “He’s a good kid, but his problem is that as soon as Nitro’s around he lets her do all his thinking for him. Splits her focus.”
You sigh, setting your half-finished slice of cake down on the table in front of you, and climb to your feet, wincing at the ache of not moving for so long. You edge between Ghost’s knees and the coffee table and skirt around the edge of the couch wordlessly. No one stops you, and there’s no falter to their conversation despite the eyes that follow you until you disappear upstairs to use the washroom.
As you wash your hands, you stare at your own face in the mirror. You look pretty, even with your eyeliner a little smudged, and your lipstick faded to nothing. The buzz of THC is your system makes you giggle. Pretty enough to kidnap, even.
You think about it for a long moment, and then take your makeup off and braid your hair back so you can wash your face properly, and brush your teeth too. All the weirdness of the day is catching up, and all you want to do is sleep it off. The low buzz of their voices carries up the stairs when you step out into the hallway again, seemingly unbothered by your absence. There's no reason for you to say goodnight-- you don't owe them any kind of civility. But you still hesitate.
Long enough that John appears at the bottom of the stairs. "You alright, doll?" He asks. "Comin' back down?" The stairs creak slightly under his weight as he starts coming up towards you.
"I was thinking-- I'm just tired, is all. It's been a long day."
He stops two steps down, so he's still looking up at you. "I understand. We can talk more in the morning."
"I'm sure there's a lot to discuss."
"If you say so. Already told you most of what I needed to tell."
"Just most?"
He nods, and beckons you closer, a conspiratorial smile on his face. You take one halting step toward him, and then another, until you stand right at the top of the stairs. His big hands catch yours, holding you in place when he moves one step up, taller than you once more.
You stare up at him, and your breathing is turned shallow, your heartbeat rapid and heady. His eyes glitter in the dim light as he leans close, the tip of his nose skimming yours, as if he means to kiss you. Like a deer pinned under the headlights of a rapidly approaching truck, you stand frozen, unsure if you even want to move, or if you welcome the inevitable collision.
He smells like smoke and whiskey when he speaks, his lips so close to yours you can feel the soft brush of breath on your skin. "Forgot to tell you how good you look in my shirt," he purrs. "Been thinkin' to say so all night."
Heat licks across your cheeks, his words waking something dangerous in your core, something that wants his hands on you more than anything else. It’s unfair, what he does to you already, barely more than a stranger, and you want him to be a good man so you can indulge that desire without fear of consequence. It’s been such a long time since someone looked at you the way he looks at you now, an almost indescribable fondness that you haven’t even begun to earn.
“It’s a nice shirt,” you say lamely. “Thank you for lending it to me.” You don’t mention that it smells very pleasantly like him, and how it’s been a bit difficult to keep yourself from sniffing at the flannel all evening.
“You’re welcome to anything I have,” he says, and you know he means it.
“I hope that includes your bed,” you say jokingly, trying (and failing) to diffuse the intensity in his eyes. “Because I think that’s where I’m headed now.”
“Of course it does.” His thumb rubs across your knuckles, the other hand coming up to cradle your cheek. You shake, all nerves, worried that he’ll close the distance and kiss you, but he just taps his forehead against yours instead, eyes smiling. “Off you go, sweet thing. You give us a shout if we get too loud, eh?”
You swallow nervously and nod, taking a step backwards. “Goodnight, John.”
"Goodnight, doll.”
You quickly shut yourself into the other room, flicking on the light while you strip down to your panties and wrap the flannel shirt around yourself again, and tuck yourself into bed. It’s been a bizarre day, and the room feels strange, too open and too dark, but it still doesn’t take long to fall asleep.
Hours later, you wake at the sound of the door opening and clicking shut again. You sit up before you’re fully alert, dreams shredding apart and solidifying into reality as you blink away sleep.
“Shh, s’just me,” John’s voice comes out of the darkness, slurring slightly. You can’t see anything in the darkness, until he crosses over to the window and opens the curtains, letting in a little light from the waxing moon outside. He turns towards her, his big frame silhouetted against the scant light, humming. “Bloody hell, you’re a pretty little thing.” The soft clink of his belt buckle is far too loud in the quiet room, as is the rustle of his clothes as he strips down to his boxers.
“John, what are you doing?” you ask nervously.
“Coming to bed,” he says, like it’s obvious. “M’too old to sleep on the floor, and Gaz is on the big couch.”
“Oh. I’ll move then. I don’t mind sleeping on the floor.” You throw back the sheets and swing your legs onto the floor.
“No, no, stay right where you are.” He swoops over and grips your legs gently, lifting them up and back onto the bed. He smells strongly of whiskey and mint toothpaste, and the clinging remnants of cigar smoke. “We can share tonight. Get things set up better tomorrow.”
“John…”
He slides into bed beside you and easily pulls you close, strong arms wrapping around you tightly, rolling so you’re half on top of him, one hand cradling your back and the other on your waist. “Yeah, doll?” he asks.
“John, we can’t— I can’t sleep like this.”
“Shh, just give me a minute to hold my pretty girl.” He nuzzles against the top of your head. “I’m gonna be so good to you, sweetheart. I promise.”
"You're drunk," you say, holding the flimsy excuse out for him, hoping that he'll take it. You don't want to think about him meaning it. It makes going home look all the more unlikely.
"A little," he admits. His hand drifts lower, fingers dipping below the soft lace of your panties to dig into soft skin around your hip. He groans. "You're perfect. Sweet and soft, so damn beautiful. I'll make you happy. I'll give you anything you want, if you stay with me."
"John! Stop that, we can talk later, just go to sleep."
"I know this all started wrong, doll. The lads got carried away. But this is right. You feel that too, don't you? We'll have to come up with a better story for our kids, hm? Something proper romantic." He kisses the top of your head, humming happily.
"Our kids?" you squeak. "Jesus, John, you can't be serious."
"Course I am. We can start trying whenever you're ready."
Well, at least now you know he's just as delusional as the rest of them. "You don't even know if I want kids."
"You do," he says confidently. "Tell me I'm wrong."
"You're drunk," you say firmly. "Go to sleep."
He chuckles. "You didn't say I'm wrong."
You push away and roll over so you don't have to look right at him. Even in the darkness, you're certain that your face betrays more than you'd like. It was none of his business if you wanted kids. You certainly weren't going to have them with him. "Go to sleep," you repeat.
"Yes ma'am," he says, looping his arms around you again, tugging you close to his chest. "Goodnight, doll."
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Thanks for reading!
Image Credits: Banner
Dividers: 1 - 2 - 3 by @/Cafekitsune
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blindmagdalena · 5 months
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Eat Your Ego, Honey ( Homelander x OC )
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ongoing series. words to date: 49k. 18+ main themes: dark romance, stalking, sex work, unhealthy relationships, alcohol, codependency, trauma bonding, rough sex. see AO3 for detailed tags.
summary: Layla Alden is an escort who specializes in the marriage of sex and emotional intimacy. In an effort to protect herself in an inherently hazardous industry, she enforces a strict ‘No Supes’ policy. Homelander doesn't take no for an answer, and insists that she take him on as a client. She's quickly caught up in the maelstrom of his life, forcing them both to confront feelings of obsession, danger, love, trauma, sex, and how the entanglement of all of those things have shaped their lives.
Homelander is an enigma. One moment he is moving with sexual prowess, eager and confident in himself, and the next he is subdued, utterly entranced by nothing more than a bare-handed touch. He shows all the trappings of a man who has had plenty of sex, but very little intimacy.
AO3 Link | Spotify Playlist
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Chapter One: Company
Chapter Two: It Will Come Back
Chapter Three: Stalker's Tango
Chapter Four: One Way Or Another
Chapter Five: You're Mine
Chapter Six: Gods & Monsters
Chapter Seven: Middle of the Night
Chapter Eight: I Found Love
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longagoitwastuesday · 11 months
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I've also been reading the three musketeers and the thesis chapter had me Cackling. the clowning on learning latin in particular and aramis as a character constantly emphasizing that being part of the higher sought after and hard-to-get-into regiment of the king's musketeers is just kind of a temp job for him is so funny. character of all time. (also bazin wanting aramis to be a abbe so bad is so good)
Disclaimer that I was actually not reading the book, just giving a look and toying with the idea of reading it soon. In fact I was reading something else, but the chapter was so funny I've abandoned it and will probably start The three musketeers instead xD
Yes! Bazin was so funny. While reading him I couldn't help but be reminded of Smee wanting to leave Neverland and done with Hook's obsession for Peter Pan. Aramis dismissing being a musketeer is hilarious, but it becomes particularly funny after reading Cyrano de Bergerac, where Cyrano mentions being a musketeer wistfully a couple of times. While I was reading the play I kept thinking that Cyrano's aspirations were basically to be Aramis haha
The use of Latin each character (the curate, the Jesuit, D'Artagnan and Aramis) does was indeed very funny, as well as insightful. I ended up reading a paper on the command each of the four protagonists has of Latin, and I loved the comparison it established between Athos and Aramis. I don't have an opinion on this formed because I have yet to read the book, which is a good thing (it will hopefully keep me from rambling), but I found what I read super interesting.
The chapter was very funny, and I felt Dumas managed everything very well? I loved the writing itself. Every part of the chapter worked wonderfully as a whole to enhance every aspect, making the funny parts more fun and drawing a more clear lively depiction of the characters.
By that I mean, basically, that even from the initial interaction between D'Artagnan and the hostess in which he asks for Aramis and she goes "the charming hot guy?" we can see Aramis' hypocrisy and unsteadiness by a mile. It's hilarious to read the chapter and see how Aramis ends up contradicting everything he does or says, at times not even that long after saying it xD
Which takes me to the thesis itself. Honestly, I loved the topics. I know they're supposed to sound a bit ridiculous and funny, but I thought Dumas conveyed very well the air of some of those intricate questions of theology that seem trifle but have a lot of implications, and end up being of a very poetic nature (such as the question about how many angels can dance on the head of a pin, one of my all time favourite questions). I wasn't very interested on the topic of the hands until the Jesuit commented that sprinklers "simulate an infinite number of blessing fingers"; that's beautiful.
Now, the topic Aramis himself proposes is just gorgeous. The way he defends it with a syllogism is so clever of Dumas considering the link between theology and the development of Logic. Besides that, despite how unorthodox the topic may appear at first, as Aramis himself puts it, there is a lot of truth in what he says about the world being full of temptations and it being very much a sacrifice to leave it, and how there lies the devotional act. I ended up being very intrigued by the potential development of this thesis in a mix of appreciation of the world as God's creature, and thus the leaving of the world as an act of true love for God, of more importance; how instead of an easy surrender, the struggle and doubts are as much reflection of the condition of humanity's frailty as it is a more steady and full surrender to God.
The topic of Aramis' thesis is somewhat paradoxical yet sound, and reflects doubts, as well as an appreciation for the world, aesthetics and beauty; I think it reflects so much of what makes Aramis himself.
And then, again, there's the whole hypocrisy through the entire chapter (which is what makes it for me haha). The way he says he isn't defending a regret at renouncing the world while proposing the thesis, that the mere idea is sacrilegious, how he insists he won't miss it, that friends are but shadows and the world a grave, and still how his resolution wavers almost instantly with his "And yet, while I still hold to the earth, I would have liked to talk with you, about you, about our friends" (and what a tender shaking), only to end up asking D'Artagnan to tell him about the world in the last line? Hilarious. What an hypocrite xD
But how extremely charming and adorable, I must admit! I love how when D'Artagnan tells him "But how are you going to live while you wait for me? No more thesis, no more commentaries on fingers and blessings, eh?", Aramis smiles and replies "I shall compose verses". Truly one of the characters of all time xD
#Aramis#The three musketeers#Les trois mousquetaires#I want to keep this to find later on. I'm truly sorry for the tags#And I'm sorry for talking a lot. I honestly tried to keep it short but there's so much I wanted to talk about‚ the chapter is so good#In fact there are a lot of things I haven't mentioned or developed that I loved#such as the fact that Dumas waves the chapters in such a way that that of Aramis starts with Porthos‚ while the chapter of Athos#starts with Aramis‚ linking the three friends together metatextually as they are linked together narratively by D'Artagnan visiting them#I also wanted to ask whether Aramis was the anon's favorite character and whether they had opinions on his position vs. Athos' for example#But the anon being an anon makes it hard to ask#I wanted to talk a bit about the developing of theology through paradoxes and Logic at times and how fitting that seemed for Aramis' thesis#He reminded me a bit of theologians such as Dionysius the Areopagite and Scotus Eriugena among others‚ and even Kierkegaard#But I must admit I always think too much about Neoplatonism and it's been long since I read these authors thoroughly so it may be a stretch#I had a lot of fun imagining the potential development of the thesis Aramis proposes though. Now I want the thesis now haha#And truly‚ the writing of the entire chapter was a thing of genius in how every little thing has later significance#to enhance something else. Such as the joke with Aramis moralising about the food‚ the conversation with the hostess‚#D'Artagnan's overall discomfort as if mad fanatics‚the world as something to renounce but the instant temptation of asking for his friends‚#the way D'Artagnan reads Aramis like a book and how he blushes and responds in poetic yet theological terms with too much fierceness#The way he blushes and exposes himself#And the entire thesis Aramis proposes being a good reflection on his character (no wonder he is adamant on pursuing that one#and only that one‚ like a calling). How the chapter and the thesis are a good summary on his character#But also how those lines I quoted‚ D'Artagnan asking what hell do and Aramis smiling and replying he'll write verses‚ are as well#Truly‚ the writing was so good. And yes‚ I agree with the anon completely#Character of all time#I suspect I'd love him immensely#Even in this chapter alone he was everything I wanted and more of what I didn't dare to expect. Now I just want to see him plotting#I loved these fragments so much that now I fear reading the entire book and being let down xD#Oh but I'm rambling again...#Anyway! Thank you for the ask and sorry it took me so long to reply. I had a lot of fun with it#Too much‚ that's why I took so long to reply. I read and reread and then I wasn't able to summarise. Thanks for indulging me in my fun xD
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ruvviks · 2 years
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favorite moments from last chapter under the cut because i need to talk about it or i'll explode. sorry i need attention hiiii
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icharchivist · 1 year
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[hxh chapter 395 spoilers]
Sorry to be talking about hxh on main again after all these years but i’m going slightly insane after the last update. After years of writing about how i believed the Kurta clan has been murdered probably because of the D-Hunter book Sheila had given Kurapika (this post more or less have the outline of the theory in it), while at this point we didn’t know anything about Sheila, the last chapter just. 
Showed that Sheila was a childhood friend of the Phantom Troupe???? That she was already reading the D-Hunter book then????
It’s not “theory confirmed” at all, at least not yet, but it’s at least setting pieces in a position that fits this theory again i’m going insane.
the other theory of the post i linked is also disproven this chapter re: regarding Sharlnark, but i don’t really care much about this part of the theory i linked, i’m just, only focusing on the book. I’ve been arguing for years that the Troupe must have attacked the village because of Sheila and the Book and the new chapter really just say “well, they DID know each other...? <3″ at me. Excuse me.
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stackthedeck · 2 years
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omg i checked out your blog because you reblogged my post with some tags, I checked your AO3 and i'd read one of your good omens fics before. i was like omg is it the one where Jack and Crowley do shots together…..YES it is
Lmao the good omens to daredevil pipeline what are Aziraphale and Crowley if not Matt and Foggy in a different font
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embrosegraves · 8 days
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𝔻𝕠𝕨𝕟 𝕋𝕚𝕞𝕖 𝔻𝕠𝕨𝕟 𝕌𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣
Oscar Piastri x Horner!Reader Oscar finds that having a crush having less than platonic feelings for your boss's only adult daughter is apparently free real estate for some of F1's biggest gossips
Warnings: As per, explicit language and grammatical errors.
dates on tweets don't exist, right? they're all just fake??
series masterlist | previous part | next part
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oscarpiastri A week full of sim training, rage rooms and relaxation before going home for a p1 on the podium (hopefully) (max let me have this i beg) tagged: redbullracing, yn.horner
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logansargeant did I not tell you rage rooms were the coolest ever -> oscarpiasrti yeah yeah keep bragging 🙄 -> logansargeant well since you gave me permission-
fan38 at least its a controlled environment to deal with your emotions -> yn.horner thank FUCK i convinced him to do this instead of what Ruben wanted -> rubenholtt what was wrong with egging and tp-ing her house? -> yn.horner uhh everything???
maxverstappen1 I'm not gonna go easy on you just because you grew up 10 minutes from the track -> oscarpiastri BOOOOO 🍅🍅🍅
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yn.horner has posted a new story!
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user358 make him wear them!!
oscarpiastri The glasses are NOT the issue and you know it. -> yn.horner What you think I don't look good with facial hair? -> oscarpiastri Hey don't put words in my mouth -> oscarpiastri I just wasn't expecting you to pick up looking like THAT
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redbullracing The face of a man that snagged P2 AT HIS HOME RACE, channelled his inner Elle Woods ("What, like it's hard?") and then proceeded to not elaborate any further tagged: oscarpiastri
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oscarpiastri What can I say, I'm just built diff 🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️ -> liked by author
danielricciardo We stand on business here -> oscarpiastri And that's on what? -> yn.horner PERIODTTTTTT
user325 AND NOT A SINGLE DISQUAL IN SIGHT -> danielricciardo 😢😢 -> user325 sorry Danny -> danielricciardo 😒🫶
Japan GP
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yn.horner having matching plushies always helps me feel better when i'm away from home
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oscarpiastri what names have you chosen for yours? assuming that whoever they match with has named theirs -> yn.horner their names are confidential i'm afraid -> oscarpiastri boooooo no fun :(
user549 wish my boyfriend did this for me -> user550 babe, we're literally on our way to go buy jellycats -> user549 ok and???
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if you see this, know that you WILL be getting the next update after the Imola GP i promise.
I've been in a really odd spot in my life where I haven't been very motivated to do any writing (or even just creating in general) for long burst of time, which means that any requests I have been sent previously have been sitting in my drafts half finished because I cannot for the life of me find any inspiration to write anything.
I count myself lucky that I had enough motivation and energy to start pre-planning for the rest of this series. If you take a look at the series masterlist you'll notice that there are numbers next to the current chapters and beyond. I've decided that the entire series is going to be 14 chapters in total with a bonus chapter for Oscar and Y/n's shenanigans at the end of the 2024 season.
I can't thank everyone enough for being so incredibly patient with me as I try to work through this writing slump. Slowly but surely I will start uploading fic reqs again
-- Embrose xx
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Take Care of You [10]
Sugar Daddy!Joel Miller x Female!Reader
Overall Warnings: slow burn, angst/comfort, power imbalance, age gap, possessive tendencies, eventual smut, #daddyissues, independent reader learns to let go and relax, emotionally constipated Joel Miller learns to be vulnerable; (more specific warnings to be added to individual chapters if necessary)
Chapter Word Count: 5.7k
Mood board and borders by @saradika
Summary: You spent your entire adult life supporting yourself and barely getting by. It’s why a life of ease offered to you by a mysterious stranger sounded so foreign and unbelievable. Joel Miller, dressed in flannels that had seen better days, didn’t look like the kind who could promise you the world on a plate, but he seemed desperate to help out. All he asks is that you let him take care of you. That wouldn’t be so hard. Would it?
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[A/N: 🤡. I came back to life to immediately die off again i'm so sorry. here take this next part and all my love. speaking of my love, i already closed beta readers on tiktok but for anyone on here, if you wanna see why i've been so MIA, shoot me a message with your email if you wanna beta read my original work (i do ask that you do a questionnaire afterwards but that's just to help me out). But, imagine a scifi/fantasy where the book 'Six of Crows' meets 'The Last of Us', and I have good sources that y'all like TLOU👀]
[A/N pt.2: I did not edit this to the degree I should have and there is no tag list at the bottom i am so so so so sorry].
10: THE EVIDENCE IS PRETTY DAMNING
The ceiling wasn’t right. 
That was your first, foggy thought when your eyes opened. Rather than the bumpy, plaster speckles collecting dust it was smooth and off white. You slowly sat up with a groan, head spinning and mouth dry, and you blinked three times before your situation dawned on you. This was not your bed, not your house. Fuck. You set your hands on the bed to lean back then winced. With a hiss, you pulled your hand up and saw the bandaged injury from last night.
You cradled the hand with your other and turned to hang your legs over the edge of the bed. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a note on the nightstand. You leaned over. There was a full water bottle and a bottle of tylenol resting on top of a piece of paper. On the paper, in scratchy, nearly illegible, writing was, ‘Come downstairs when you’re ready. Feel free to use the shower and change if you want. ⏤Joel’. You dragged your fingers to trace the words. 
With a shaky breath, you grabbed the water bottle and took a couple pills in hopes to nurse the aches and pains you felt. You stared at the words again. Last night, Joel admitted to being married to Sarah’s mom and you had responded by passing the fuck out. You had tried to argue, demand more information, but your body fought against your curiosity. All the drinks you had prior and the fading adrenaline from the fight probably hadn’t helped. 
You rose from the bed with a groan and crossed to use the bathroom adjoined to Joel’s bedroom. When you flicked the lights on, you took the first movement to glance around the space. The walls were beige with white tile floors. On one side was a large jacuzzi style tub next to an expansive walk in shower. On the other was ample counter space and drawers with matching him and her sinks. In the back was the small room where the toilet sat and beyond that a walk in closet. The space was lived in. A dirty clothes basket off to the side half full, toiletries on the counter and on the shelves in the shower, you spotted a pair of glasses you had never seen Joel wear resting by the sink on the right side of the counter. That must be the one Joel used most. A toothbrush sat by it and you noticed water by the rim like he hadn’t wiped up when finished.
Also on the counter were a stack of clothes, you stepped toward it and saw it was a t-shirt and pair of sweatpants that must have belonged to him. On top of it was a brand new toothbrush. Your gaze lifted to look at yourself in the mirror and you flinched. You looked a mess⏤ your hair, your clothes, everything. You rubbed at your face with a sigh and slipped into a morning time routine despite the unfamiliar setting. 
Celina.
The name rang in your head over and over and over again. It didn’t matter that you had been only half with it last night. You remembered that clearly. As you cleaned up, your headache began to improve and by time you left the bathroom you at least felt human again. A new anger bubbled just under your skin. You couldn’t quite yet put your anger into words, but you knew it was there. After washing up, you traded the clothes you wore to the bar for the ones Joel left you. The shirt was worn out, like it was aged, and navy in color. It read ‘Miller’s Contracting’ with a number on it for contact. It reminded you of the kind of shirt a small company would make and not a multi-million dollar one. You tightened the waistband of Joel’s sweatpants. They were at least joggers so you didn’t have to worry about tripping over yourself.
You crossed the upstairs, open space to the stairs. Faintly, you heard the sound of someone moving around downstairs. A brief wave of nervousness had you hesitating at the top of the stairs, but it slipped away back to anger. It seemed that was where your heart was making camp this morning.
Slowly, you descended the stairs. The wooden floors under your feet didn’t creak or make noise as you padded into the living room first. A few couches were situated in front of a wall that held a large flat screen TV and a fireplace. The back wall was made of glass, a window and door all in one that revealed the back patio where a small pool and deck were, and the space beside it was the kitchen. Just as open as the rest of Joel’s house. The cabinets were made of dark wood with matching countertops and at the center was a large island with chairs. 
On the island counter looked like to-go boxes of food. You stared at them a moment longer, but a door hidden just out of view on the wall in the kitchen opened. Joel stepped into the kitchen nonchalantly until he spotted you and did a double take. He froze and stared. The two of you were actually similarly dressed. He had on a t-shirt that looked tight on his broad shoulders and a pair of sweatpants that hung low on his hips. Joel looked exhausted.
“Hey.” He said softly. “Mornin’, sug⏤” Joel stopped himself, it looked like he choked on his words, but he locked his jaw and changed direction. “Mornin’. How did you sleep?” You gave a small shrug and a tight lipped smile. “Right. How’s your…” Joel lifted his own hand. “Your hand?”
You lifted it up to stare down at it. The bandages had been pulled away when you washed up this morning. It didn’t look so bad. “It’s fine. Thanks for the⏤ the tylenol. And the toothbrush. And the,” You motioned to the clothes hanging off your frame, “You know.”
“Can I?” Joel nodded toward you.
“I said, it’s fine, Joel.”
“I…” He sighed and the look in his eyes was agonizing. “I know you’re pissed at me. Understandably so. But, please let me…”
You walked over to sit down at one of the tall chairs at the island counter and set your hand on the marble top. Joel mumbled a quiet ‘thank you’ and disappeared for a quick second. He was back with a small first aid kit again. You twisted your lips when you felt his warm hand cautiously take yours. It was quiet as he reapplied a bit of medicine to the hand before wrapping it up again. 
“You don’t…” Joel started then cleared his throat. You never would have used the word anxious to describe the Joel you had gotten to know thus far, but nervous energy seemed to radiate off him. The tension in his shoulders looked painful to keep hold of. “I had breakfast delivered. Some stuff I know you like.” Joel pulled his hand away from yours. “But you don’t have to stay if you don’t wanna.”
“No. I want to.” You replied. Joel looked briefly hopeful. “I want to talk about this. I want⏤ to know. I want answers.”
“Right. Of course.” Joel nodded quickly. “I owe you at least that.” You nodded in agreement. Joel straightened from where he stood and ran a hand over his chest and shoulder with a quiet cough. “Can I make you something to drink? Coffee, tea, juice?”
You gave a small nod, mumbling a response, and watched as Joel put it all together. He poured himself a cup of coffee after serving you. Rather than take the seat beside you, he stood on the other side of the island counter across from you.
“You mentioned the girl from Vegas last night briefly, but how did you know…”
“Yo-yo told me you had a sugar baby before me. That you married her.”
“I did have a sugar baby before you, yes.” Joel sighed.
“Why did you lie to me?” You demanded.
Joel shook his head, “I never lied to you. I just⏤ I never told you, and you never asked.”
“Really?” You scoffed. “That’s what you wanna hang your hat on here? Semantics?” Joel hung his head then shook it a bit. “I didn’t want to believe her, but yesterday Nima texted someone she knows. A private investigator⏤”
Joel’s eyes widened, “You hired a private investigator??”
“I didn’t hire anybody! Nima just texted them and they confirmed⏤”
“You went to a PI before just asking me?” Joel replied sharply. You leaned back in your seat⏤ in shock at his audacity. He must have noticed how you felt because he held up a hand. “I just mean, that’s a huge invasion of privacy and all you had to do was call me⏤”
You pushed out of your seat and turned to leave. Joel called out after you before following. He grabbed your hand to tug you to a stop and you glared at him over your shoulder. You snapped, “If you’re just going to stand there and be defensive then there’s no reason for me to be here, Joel.” You pulled your hand out of his grip and spun to face him. “I understand that getting in contact with a fucking PI was a crazy move, but yesterday I felt a little crazy.” You scoffed. “I felt like an idiot. I felt like a naive, desperate idiot who got played. So, yeah, I let Nima text her cousin’s cousin’s cousin to find an answer because the thought of standing in front of you and asking⏤”
The rest of your words got caught in your throat. You didn’t want to get emotional in front of Joel. More than anything you wanted to keep your cool and be collected. Just in case he did break your heart, you could walk away with at least some of your dignity intact. Joel took a step closer. Thankfully, he didn’t try to touch you, but he did lift his hands slightly in surrender.
“I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m sorry.” He said. “I’m being defensive. Hell, I'm being an ass.” You locked your jaw and let your eyes focus on something over his shoulder. Unable to stare into those deep, dark eyes. “This is… This isn’t an easy subject for me to talk about and I⏤ I panicked. I want you to hear me out. I want you to know the truth.” He shifted in his stance so your gaze was forced to meet his. The longing there made you suck in a sharp breath. “Please. Give me another chance to explain this. I’ll do better.”
You rubbed the back of your neck with your non-injured hand and gave a small nod.
“Thank you. Thank you.” Joel repeated himself. He took a step back but kept his shoulders facing you as if he thought you were a flight risk. Joel motioned to his couch. “Do you wanna sit? I’ll grab our drinks.” You sighed and meandered over to sit down on one end of his leather couch. Joel didn’t move back into the kitchen until after you were seated. He came back with both of your drinks and handed you your own before sitting on the other side of the couch. One cushion of space between the two of you. 
You took a sip, trying to gather your thoughts, before nodding once. “I want to know about your wife first. Celina, you said? I want to know about her.”
“Yeah.” Joel swallowed thickly. “Do you remember anything I mentioned about Sarah’s mom before?”
“I didn’t know her name.” You replied. “You said the two of you had dated for, like, three months?” Joel nodded. “She got pregnant, and you worked it out. Things were fine, but two weeks after Sarah was born she left. You never said the two of you got married though.”
“Because we didn’t.” Joel replied softly. “I asked. Proposed to her when we found out she was pregnant with Sarah, and she said no.” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but he wasn’t meeting your gaze anymore. Joel stared down at the coffee mug in his hands. “I loved her. She was my first real love, actually. I knew our situation wasn’t ideal, but… I wanted it to work. I saw a future with her.” Joel ran his thumb back and forth on the edge of his mug’s rim where it reached. He chuckled, “When Sarah was born… Those two weeks? It was⏤ It was good. But, uh, then she left.” Joel shrugged in a way that attempted nonchalance but did not meet the mark. “Her leaving hurt for a lot of reasons. For one, in no way was I prepared to take care of a newborn.”
You set your drink on the coffee table before leaning back. Joel stayed silent, his jaw clenching and unclenching, and you recognized the look of someone getting stuck in their own memories. You spoke up, “What happened then? When did you get married?”
“Celina is…” Joel began. He rubbed his jawline. “I spent a lot of time being furious with her⏤ hating her. Not just for leaving me behind, but for leaving Sarah. Sarah deserved better.” He shook his head. “But she… she came to me, needing help, and I⏤ I couldn’t say no. Not to her. And not because I still had any sort of feelings for her, but because no matter how angry I was at her she gave me Sarah.” A vulnerable softness filled his features and he finally lifted his head to meet your gaze fully. “Without Celina, I wouldn’t have Sarah.”
You could understand that. You knew that his daughters meant absolutely everything to Joel. More so, despite all the shit going on between the two of you right now, despite Joel arguing otherwise, you knew he was a good man. You had a very hard time picturing him saying no to anyone who came to him for help. 
“When did she come to you? And why? What problem is solved with marriage?”
“Three years ago. Just about.” Joel mumbled. “It’s… She was sick. Cancer. The only feasible treatment was going to bankrupt her because her insurance refused to cover the cost. Celina came back wanting to see Sarah. Get to know her before she died.” Your eyes widened in surprise at both the news and the confusion that came with trying to connect the dots. “I told her that was up to Sarah⏤ she was old enough to make that decision for herself and I was gonna support her with whatever she chose.”
You nodded slowly, “Okay…”
“Sarah decided she did want to meet her mom. And I…” Joel paused. He set his coffee mug down on the coffee table as well and laced his fingers together. He was fidgeting. Another nervous tick of his. Joel could never seem to keep his hands still when he was caught in his own mind. It was like his hands so desperately wanted to fix what stressed him out⏤ even if it wasn’t a physical problem they could fix. “I⏤ I couldn’t stop thinking… remembering…”
Joel squeezed his eyes shut, and the palpable pain had you shifting closer. It dawned on you. Words clicking in your mind. You set a hand on his forearm and gave it a small squeeze, “Your mom.” Joel had told you, ages ago, that he had lost his own mother to cancer. “You lost her. I remember you telling me.”
“Yes.” Joel unlaced his own fingers so he could settle one hand on top of yours⏤ still resting on his forearm. The tip of his thumb dragged back and forth against the knuckle of your index finger. Tracing the shape of it. “It wasn’t… It wasn’t the exact same, I know that, but… Sarah technically had already lost her once.”
“Joel…”
“I offered to pay. Pay for the treatment in full.” Joel’s thumb stilled to squeeze your hand once. “I’d cover all the costs, but⏤ but Celina refused. Said she didn’t want,” Joel scoffed with a humorless laugh, “Didn’t want to be a ‘charity case’. Said she didn’t come back for my money, or for me to fix the problem, she came back for Sarah.” Joel shook his head. “We argued in circles for God knows how long. We finally settled on this. If we got married, she’d have my insurance instead of her own. My insurance would cover most of the treatments and she’d pay what it didn’t.”
You understood that. It matched up with what you knew about Joel. “How is she? Now?”
“In remission. Since seven months ago, she’s been in remission.” A small smile flickered on his features. “She lives in Waco. Wanted to be closer to Sarah. One of the only reasons I could stomach all of us coming to LA while Sarah stayed in Texas for college. I knew she’d at least have her there in case of emergencies.”
Your face scrunched in question, “Then why… Why are you still married?”
“I don’t have a reason. Not a real one. Not beyond me just being lazy.” Joel said firmly. He held your hand tight, keeping it pinned to his arm, like it was a lifeline. “Up until now, it didn’t matter to me. It made no difference. That’s it. I swear to you, sugar.” The nickname fell out of his mouth like second nature. “And I’m working on changing that already. You can ask Tommy or⏤ or hell I’ll give you Celina’s number or our lawyer’s number. We started the official divorce paperwork the day you and I got back from Vegas. It was the first call I made after dropping you off at your place.”
You did believe him. As Joel held your gaze, all you could see in those soulful eyes was a deep desperation. An ache seeking the comfort that would come with reassurance. “I believe you.” You said softly and his eyes closed in relief. His entire body sagged as the tension seeped out of it. You really did believe him, and of all the ways this could’ve gone wrong technically you supposed this was the best case scenario. However, learning this made you realize what aspect of this bothered you more than most. You slid your hand out from under his. “Why… Why didn’t you just tell me?”
“I was… I was going to. After.”
“Why though? Why after?” You shook your head. “Why didn’t you trust me with this?” Joel’s face fell again. “I know we haven’t known one another for long, but…” You bit back your words before you admitted to the naive truth that you felt some sort of connection to him. That being with him was as easy as breathing and you foolishly let yourself get carried away. “I don’t…”
Joel quickly scooted closer, a hand held up in surrender, “Had nothing to do with⏤ with me not… I do trust you. I do.” Joel shook his head. “Me not mentioning this had nothing to do with you. It was me.” His words reminded you of Vegas. This excuse was sounding familiar and the more you heard it the harder it was to believe. He hung his head and winced. “I need to tell you about⏤ about Erina.”
“That’s…” You began. “Is that your sugar baby?
“Yeah.” Joel nodded. “But it was more complicated than that.”
“So, I’m gathering.” You mumbled. The words of frustration left your lips before you could filter them. In this situation, you felt you had every right to be upset and bitter, but the look of pained guilt that filled Joel’s features made every cell in your body vibrate with regret. It felt like you had just kicked a puppy, and those sad, brown eyes were heart wrenching. “Sorry.”
Joel shook his head quickly. “No. Don’t. You don’t need to be sorry. I do.”
“You’re talking to me⏤ answering my questions.” You replied with a small shrug. “The least I can do is not be petty.” You twisted your lips. “So? Tell me about her.”
“She wasn’t my sugar baby to begin with.” Joel started softly. He turned his head to keep his gaze on the mug sitting on the coffee table, and you found the story easier to stomach without those powerful eyes focused on you. “My company got hired for a job. It was a big one, which is why it came across my desk. Some summer project. A finance guy wanted his vacation house completely renovated in Malibu. I decided to take a more hands on position for the entire thing. Stayed on site to work.” It wasn’t a shock to hear. You were plenty aware that Joel spent most of his work time on site if he could. Joel only donned a tie for the board room when Tess wrestled him into it. “The guy who hired us wasn’t there, but his wife was. At least, I thought it was his wife.”
“But it wasn’t.”
Joel gave out a sad chuckle, “No. She wasn’t. Erina was… lively and energetic. She was fun, and I… It had been a long time since I experienced that kind of light hearted fun. Plus, the client, when he did come around, was such an asshole to her and I⏤” Joel sighed. “She left him midway through the project, but we didn’t get involved with one another until after it was over. When it started, it was great. The honeymoon phase was…” His voice trailed off as a small, sad smile crossed his face. You found your stomach churn in jealousy at him talking about this other woman. It was damn near nonsensical, but the emotion rose up regardless. “The issues started a while in. I realized that we saw the relationship differently. I thought… I thought what we had was real, and she only saw me as her new sugar daddy.”
For a while, we just went on. I didn’t think the difference in how we viewed things would matter. Stupid, I know, but… I thought I was happy.” Joel mumbled the last bit. He lifted a hand to rub at his jawline. “As you’ve probably figured out, I’m not⏤ I’m not good at this. Relationships and…” He tensed. “Some people are just better off alone, but I’ve been too hard headed to accept that.”
“Joel.” You interrupted the flow of his story at his claim. You didn’t believe that and you especially refused to believe it about Joel. “That’s not⏤”
“Things were still working until I…” Joel shook his head. “I told her about Celina. Tried to explain the situation to her, but when she told me to get divorced and I couldn’t⏤ that’s when it all started to crumble. I didn’t actually end the relationship until after I found out she was seeing a few other guys.” You opened your mouth the speak, the beginnings of a sentence you didn’t know how to end slipping from your tongue, but Joel suddenly turned in his seat to face you and the look in his eyes silenced any attempt at speech. He hesitantly reached out and let his hand settle on top of yours. When you didn’t pull away, he squeezed his grip tighter. “You and Erina are not the same. It wasn’t until after we stopped seeing one another that I realized how terrible our relationship had been. So please, please, don’t think I’m comparing you to her because I’m not. I know how she reacted is not some⏤ some default and you wouldn’t necessarily react the same, but… but every time I considered telling you about Celina, all I could imagine was you leaving. And I, selfishly, stopped myself from admitting the truth to you because I didn’t want to ruin this the way I ruin everything else.”
You murmured his name. Early on, you recognized Joel had trust issues, but you had never realized it stretched this far. Joel didn’t trust even himself. It broke your heart that he thought so poorly of himself. No matter how upset you were at the man you knew deep down he was a good. His mistake had hurt you, but it hadn’t been born of malice. You saw that now. Fear and self doubt had brought the two of you to this crossroads. 
“Joel, that isn’t true.” You said softly. “You don’t ruin everything.”
“The evidence is pretty damning.” Joel chuckled sadly. You opened your mouth to argue, but he shook his head quickly and held out a hand to stop you. “That’s not the point of… I should’ve told you. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. I should’ve told you, been up front about it all, and I’m sorry.” Joel sighed. “I’m sorry, sugar.”
He had answered a number of your questions and with the truth came the relief of knowing.  Plus, the answer technically hadn’t been your worst case scenario. God knew your brain was plenty capable of thinking up some nightmare-ish situations. So in comparison, it would be worse. Still, there was an itch that hadn’t quite yet been scratched.
“Why… Why seek out a new sugar baby?” You asked. His experience with Erina had obviously been less than ideal so why try again? You shook your head, “Why me?”
“Those are two very different questions.”
“How do you figure that?”
“I …” Joel began hesitantly. You could see his thoughts jumbling in his mind as he struggled to string one along. Conversations like this were hardly considered Joel’s comfort zone so you did appreciate that he was trying. That went a long way as well. “Erina came back into my life not so long ago.” You felt your stomach drop and your heart clench painfully. The emotional response was so physical that it nearly made you sick. Joel must have noticed because he quickly reached out and settled a hand on your shoulder. “No. Not like that. She means nothing to me. She came to me wanting to get back together, harassing me about it, but I’ve made it crystal clear to her and everyone around us that I have no interest in restarting something with her. Especially now.”
“Okay…”
“The idea was…” Joel winced sheepishly. “The idea was to hire a sugar baby as a way to show her that I was serious. We were done and I was moving on.” It was ridiculous enough that from anyone’s else mouth you wouldn’t have believed them, but they had been said in Joel’s sincerity. “I know how that sounds.”
“Not good. It sounds not good.”
“I know. Everyone told me it was a bad idea. Tess, Sarah, Ellie.” You found it interesting that his daughters knew about their father’s love life to that degree. It spoke to how close they were and his stance on honesty. Joel chuckled. “Actually, the only person who agreed with me on the plan was Tommy, but I suppose that should’ve been a sign to give it up.” Your lips twitched up mildly in amusement. “But, deep down I knew it would hurt Erina, and I… I wanted to be petty.”
You shrugged, “And I’m apart of this… how? To annoy Erina?”
“No.” Joel said firmly, almost roughly. “Absolutely not. Remember the day you bought me that coffee? I said I had been meeting with some other, um, women?” You nodded and let him continue. “By time I made it to the that coffee shop, I had already half decided to give up the idea. It was obviously going poorly. I was literally just looking for someone I wouldn’t mind spending time with and I couldn’t even do that. But you were… God, meeting you felt like a breath of fresh air.” He messily ran a hand through his hair while his other continued to fidget. “You stayed on my mind and when I spotted you again…”
“I…” You tried to find the right words. The ones he would want to hear. It felt odd to give forgiveness for a misunderstanding, but you knew that’s what he was seeking. Validation. “I forgive you.” 
The relief on Joel’s face was staggering and when he held a hand out to you, you knew exactly what he was asking for. You closed the space and let him pull you into a hug. His warm, large hands enveloped you as he craddled the back of your head to hold you as closely to him as you could. You wrapped your own arms around him and lazily dragged your thumb up and down where it rested. 
You did forgive him for this. That was the truth and you meant it with your whole heart, but this entire experience was eye opening. You had fallen for Joel so dangerously fast. It made you realize that if this had been a different scenario, one of the nightmare-ish ones you imagined, it would’ve destroyed you. With the speed you were moving in, you would’ve hit the ground at a million miles per hour and shattered. You forgave Joel, but you needed to figure out a way to better guard your heart.
“I’m sorry for reaching out to a PI.”
“No. Don’t be.” Joel pulled back and the hand at the back of your head dragged forward to cup the side of your face. He sighed, “You were right. I should’ve handled this better, but I… I do appreciate you saying so.” The two of you sat in a moment of silence and for the first time since you met him that silence felt awkward. Joel must have felt it as well based on the clearing of his throat and fidgeting. “So… Are we— Are we okay?”
You nodded, “I think so.” The tension left Joel’s shoulders and you quickly stood. “I should… I should go.”
“You’re off today though, aren’t you?” Joel stood as well.
“Well, yeah, but—”
“Stay. Please.” Joel motioned back to the kitchen. “Have breakfast. I called Tommy and he’s gonna bring over your stuff.” Your eyes widened in surprise and he shrugged. “Tommy is gonna bring over your friend who has your stuff I should say.”
You hesitated, nervous after this heart to heart, but Joel held out a hand to you. Equally a peace offering and lifeline. You just weren’t sure if it was a lifeline for you or him. You set your hand in his and he gave it a small squeeze. The smile on his face was soft and open. Two words you knew not many people were able to claim as a description with him. 
Joel led you back toward the kitchen and when you turned to try and go back for your mug he stopped you. He settled you on one of the bar stools, hands lingering on your hips briefly, before going back to the living room for both your mugs. 
“You know, when I pictured you spending the night here this wasn’t quite how I thought it’d go.” Joel chuckled and grabbed a plate. You leaned on the counter and waited since you knew that plate he was making was meant for you. It took a second for his words to dawn on you. Joel pictures you spending the night in his home with him? Your face and neck warmed at the thought. It wasn’t like you hadn’t had those kinds of ideas, but hearing it from him still made your heart flutter. Even with the disaster miscommunication still lingering in your rear view mirror. “Here. Lemme know if you want anything else.” Joel set the plate in front of you and handed you a fork. After making his own plate, he pulled the barstool beside you closer and sat down. He sat sideways to face you and his knee pressed against your stool. “We could, uh, we could have a day in.”
“Hm?” You took a bite of your food.
“We’re both in pajamas and neither of us have work.”
“You don’t have work?” You asked in surprise.
Joel shook his head. “I already called Tess and told her I wasn’t coming in today. Told her I was feeling sick.”
“Did she actually believe you?” You smirked.
“No.” Joel chuckled. “She didn’t. But she also didn’t call me out on my shit, so…”
He gave you a charming smile, obviously trying to lighten the mood, and you found you appreciated it. Things weren't perfect, but for the sake of what had been you were willing to try.
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hyypnotix-writes · 8 months
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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.
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unholyhelbig · 3 months
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Can we have the last chapter of oversight??
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Title: The Oversight [Part 7/7]
Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff
Wordcount: 7200
Warnings: Blood, (a lot of blood) Gun violence, childhood trauma, a shoot out, murder, and horrible grammar.
[A/n: This is it!! I wanted to thank everyone so beyond much for sticking with this story. I do suck at endings, so I'm sorry if it doesn't live up to expectations (I'm also writing this after the worst case of covid I've ever had). I'm more than happy to continue reader and Nat's story in some oneshots if you want to request some!]
[ Part one | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven ]
Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests
Sheets of warm spring rain soaked into your clothes. Despite its tepid temperature, you were chilled to the bone. By the time you had taken Ronnie from her car seat in the back and coaxed a drowsy Darcy from the front seat, there was no dry part of you. A light wind had picked up and you were positive that your skin was pale, cold. Your lips are blue and shaking. It felt right to knock.
It was Yelena who answered the door, and she did so sparingly. It was just a crack at first, letting out a stream of golden light that caught the storm in its clutches. Then it was flung open entirely, and you had to squint against the brightness.
Darcy had a good grip on Ronnie’s hand, blinking away the last of her exhaustion as she started into the massive foyer and the house that was built around it. Yelena wore a bubblegum pink robe that was fuzzy. It looked warm. Her collarbone was littered in a smattering of blue and purple bruises. She dragged the two ends together to cover her skin.
“Y/n, it’s late.”
You were well aware of what time it was. This was Yelena’s odd way of asking if you were okay. She stepped to the side and allowed the three of you to enter, sopping wet. That was a good sign. Despite her abrasiveness, Natasha’s sister had more than one soft spot. One was for Kate, another for you, and even a small one for Clint.
“Holy shit…” Darcy whispered.
“It’s impressive, no?”
Yelena frowned, glancing up to the second level. The hall light flicked on, and you knew that Natasha had stirred. You’d awoken the dragon, not something that you were against doing. It felt stupid to have the worry of Ronnie being here in the back of your mind. This was an emergency situation.
Your heart started to pound faster and you shivered into yourself when she appeared at the top of the stairs. There was worry in her fern-colored stare. Why were you there? Why was your misfit family with you? It was late.
None of those questions came with Natasha, however. Instead, she wrapped you in her warm embrace. Your skin was frigid against her own, damp with the brutal attention of the storm. She had no objections to letting you sink into her embrace, wetting her pajamas.
“Dorogaya, chto sluchilos'?”
You pulled back, her fingers still digging into your waist. Yelena had been teaching you Russian, though you only picked up on a few words a time, you understood exactly the tone of her voice. “Carol… she was waiting for me at home.”
A hardness returned to her stare as she glanced at Ronnie who was overly interested in the tile pattern of the floor, and Darcy who was trying to work the pressure from her head with small touches to her nose.
“Did she hurt you?” her voice was a low growl “any of you?”
You shook your head. “Drugged Darcy, but it seems to be wearing off. Ronnie is alright. Carol said she was a friend and shit, Nat, I taught her about stranger danger, but she came straight to the door. I didn’t prepare her for anything like that.”
Yelena had wandered in her silent, cat-like way. She seemed to spawn back into the foyer with warm towels that felt like heaven against your skin. Your fingers were numb along with your emotions. Carol had entered your home. She entered your home.
This fact seemed to sink into Natasha’s bones. While she still held a strong grip on your shoulders there was a certain type of anger that edged through her from top to bottom. A storm brewed behind her eyes and threatened to shatter her cool confidence.
“Lena,” the word broke against her tongue “Will you please take Ronnie and Darcy to a guest room upstairs. I’m sure they’re exhausted.”
There was no objection from any party. You were once again left alone with Natasha, a charged feeling in the air that pulled the two of you together. She pressed her forehead against yours, breath warm on your collarbone.
“I’m going to kill her.”
“Nat,”
“I am. I don’t have another choice. There are clear lines that can’t be crossed and she just cut every single one of them.” Natasha hurriedly pushed strands of wet hair behind your ears, clearing your eyes. “She did this as a statement.”
“And if it’s a trap?”
“It most certainly is, darling, but that won’t stop us from walking into it.”
Very carefully, you thought about your next words, your next actions. It was easy to throw Natasha off, despite her resolute standing when she made a final decision. You felt her body pressed against yours, innate in its comfort and warmth. It would make you ache if she pulled away.
The words came out as a whisper “I’m coming with you.”
“No, you’re not.”
She attempted to step back, but your hands were tight against the silk of her robe. You held her there and she didn’t resist the tension. It was the first time you had really studied your own hands. They were different, entirely so, from those that serviced strangers at the diner.
There were soft bubblegum pink scars on your palms, and harder, darker ones on your knuckles from the countless hours you’d leaned into the pain of each punch. Natasha’s shoulder against the sand-filled bag as she stood against the strength you mustered.
A bruise from the last time you’d entered the shooting range bubbled under the surface of your palm, and it was this that Natasha stared at the hardest as you gripped her with an intensity she had yet to see.
“Did I ever tell you about my second foster father?” You asked, having released your hold, but keeping your hand splayed on her chest. You weren’t sure if you were holding her steady, or yourself. She shook her head. “Deputy Sheriff Edwards. He was a high school quarterback in Minnesota before he blew out his knee and would never let you forget it.
“And mostly… mostly he was a good guy. But, he worked long hours and had a mean streak that would show itself after a beer or two. If he had more, it was worse. He’d stumble in and find one of us kids to go out for shooting practice in the acreage behind the house.”
Natasha swallowed thickly and clenched her eyes shut for a moment. She hadn’t asked you about your familiarity with a gun and considered it a small blessing that you didn’t’ shy away from the weapon. Not only that, but you were quite nearly an expert shot once you got over the nervous familiarization.
“Locking the bedroom door, it worked sometimes, but not always. I had to pick and choose the nights when I wasn’t up for it. Usually in the winter. Minnesota gets cold, below freezing when the sun goes down behind the horizon. So cold that it burns your lungs to breathe, and you have to force your eyes open.
“Deputy Sheriff Edwards, when he couldn’t have me, he would go for my foster brother Andrew. I could hear the pistol going off, over and over again for hours. There was a distinct change in sound when the bullet actually hit the tin cans and it was… that night it was scarce. When you missed- when you missed, he got angrier.”
Natasha let out a shaky breath and pressed her forehead against yours. She was impossibly comforting, and you wanted nothing more than to wrap your arms around her and bury your nose in the small of her neck to stave off the cold. But you had to make her understand that you could handle this.
“That night, Andrew missed one too many cans and each shot was pockmarked by a hit to the temple. It was right outside my bedroom window, and the snow, the snow makes everything so much louder.” It was you that pulled in a desperate breath this time, greedy and hungry “a boy can only take so much before he aims the gun at something other than a can and pulls the trigger.”
She had reached up and used her thumb to wipe away a tear you didn’t know you shed, spreading it against your cheek. “Malysh, I can’t bare to put you through more pain.”
“That’s not your choice to make,” you whispered back, reaching up and wrapping your fingers gently around her wrist. “Whether you like it or not, Nat, you’ve spent the last six months training me to be the protector that you’ve needed. It would be a crime not to have me by your side through this, after she came into my home and threatened my family. This anger, this rage, will do nothing but serve us.”
Natasha let out a watery chuckle, “alright, Summer Sentient, stay on my six.”
There was a shed at the edge of Natasha’s large property that you rarely entered. There were too many memories attached to the location. The first time you had opened the door and clocked the coloring of the floor and the coolness of the structure, you knew that it wasn’t a place you wanted to return often.
When you had first stirred months ago with your arms tied behind your back, your mouth fuzzy and tasting of blood- it was here that they had taken you. Through your exhaustive haze, you figured it was a larger place, a storage unit or even an airplane hanger at the edge of a runway. Instead, it was a simple one-room shed that was kept ice cold and made to look infinite through mental manipulation and large intense lights.
Kate Bishop seemed to sense your simple unease and moved to help your fumbling fingers with the gun holster that was secured around your chest. Like always, Natasha organized a united front and a pep talk before going into a situation that none of you could truly prepare for.
“It’s going to be okay, you know” Kate murmured after she fastened the buckle, clapping you on the shoulder. Her eyes lingered on Natasha, on Yelena as the two of them spoke in hushed voices near a small counter that you hadn’t realized was there in the dark.
“Am I that easy to read?”
“Like an open book. It’s obvious how much you care for one another, and nothing is obvious with this family.” Kate moved to the other side of you, you tracked her with your eyes. Clint, in turn, watched the two of you interact from his perched spot near the far wall. “It took two years for Yelena to show any type of affection towards me.”
“Jesus Christ, I know she’s stoic, but shit.”
“Shit is right. I was head over heels for her within the first week. Mind you, I was suffering severe trauma and thrown into something much beyond myself. But I chipped away at her overtime, wore her down until she was comfortable enough telling me what she feels. But with the Romanoff’s, it’s not just about what they feel. It’s how they feel.”
You lifted both of your eyebrows at her. Kate handed you the jacket that was draped over a nearby chair, you toyed with it in your hands, moved your fingers over the brass buttons. It was much too warm in here to put on yet.
“Natasha is one of the scariest people I have ever met and It’s not because of her dripping ledger. It has everything to do with how much she cares. And she cares about you, y/n. It’s why she’s so reluctant to bring you along to something like this. To the end.”
“Thank you, Kate. For leading me through all of this.”
“Anytime, y/n. Can’t have you dying on us, can we?”
The plan was simple; there was no plan. A deal was supposed to met in a quick and clean way. Much like the restaurant, Natasha just needed you to simply be there to back her up. There was neutral ground at the edge of the shipyard that was far away enough from the unassuming population. Carol had agreed to meet there; tentatively.
There was something so civil and political about a business that was saturated in black sticky blood. You had a jarring feeling that tonight would be it for you, the moment of no return. Once you entered in a united front behind Natasha, your life would never be the same.
You didn’t want it to be.
Natasha Romanoff drove you absolutely wild, but had a way of calming that storm all the same. Though she’d never allow it, you would take bullets for her. But, you’d also take bullets for the little girl that you struggled to confront now.
The leather binding against your chest suddenly felt too stuffy. You’d often hid it behind the guise of a jacket or slid it into your glovebox before you trudged up the rickety stairs to your apartment. Now it was hugged as tightly as Kate could get it, pinching the fabric of your shirt.
Ronnie had looked up from the book she’d curled up with at the end of the sofa. She stared at it with quiet eyes. Everything she did was quiet but this time it felt more judge mental than usual. Natasha sidled up behind you, one ringed hand pressing calmly into the small of your back.
“Remember what I told you on the Ferris Wheel?” Natasha asked.
“She’ll talk when she’s ready.”
“Mm,” Natasha gave you a soft kiss behind your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “I know that look. She wants to talk.”
The mafia boss gave you a little shove forward before making herself comfortable leaning against the doorframe that you had just vacated. She was begrudgingly right. Veronica had scooted over deliberately and given you room next to her.
Ronnie allowed you to get comfortable next to her, running her small fingers over the leather of the holster. You stopped her before she could reach the sheathed weapon, gently lowering both of your hands to your lap.
“Natasha?”
The woman stood up straighter, looking into the expectant eyes of your daughter. She patted the empty seat on the other side of her and you watched as your girlfriend struggled not to flounder under the weight of the request. Eventually she joined the two of you on the couch, nervously twisting the closest ring around her finger.
“I’m not stupid” Ronnie said.
You frowned “No one said you were stupid, baby.”
Your daughter was glowering at you. It took years to read her facial expressions, but the one that was on her features now was loud and clear. “You can’t come home with bruises like that and expect me not to notice.”
You blinked at her dumbly. Yes, kids were perceptive, Ronnie more than others. But no part of you wanted to expose you to the life you’d been thrown in. Guilt was weighing down Natasha’s shoulders, she glanced at you sheepishly.
“You weren’t supposed to join the mob. I know why you did it, though.”
Good god, she was smart. Smarter than you’d ever give her credit for. Everyone wants to believe that their child is special but there was a certain pride in your chest that rivaled your fear. She pulled her little hand from yours and placed it on the spine of the book.
She seemed to lose interest in you altogether and turned her attention to Natasha. “Don’t let her get hurt.”
“I…Are you giving me the shovel talk?”
“I don’t know what that means, just make sure my mom’s okay.”
Natasha swallowed the dryness in her mouth, it was nearly audible. “You don’t have to worry about that, kid. I promise.”
There was an innate fear coiled in the center of your stomach, and the cacophony of footfalls against weathered docks did nothing to ease your pitfall of feelings. Clint towered over you in height, walking with his hands shoved into his jacket pockets to ward off the chill of the summer wind.
Kate and Yelena stalked behind you both, their shoulders hunched, their conversation a hushed whisper. Six docks altogether led into one hexagon platform, that at one point, must have held a fair much like the one you attended in the early summer.
From the other stretch of docking came five others. Their silhouettes were fuzzy, black against the night sky. Carol held herself with a confidence that rivaled Natasha’s. You could make out Monica amongst the crowd, a man that you’d seen around town that you were sure went by the name Fury; particular to his deeply embedded rage.
A circle of wood in the center of the land stood between the two groups like a buffer. Hands were on guns, puffs of air streaming into the lone portlights drilled into soft wood. The scent of the sea itself seemed to assuage you into flexing your fingers, the salt in the air made everything feel filmy and frigid.
It was Carol who spoke first. Her voice was carried by the wind. “I must admit, I didn’t expect you to call a meeting like this.”
“You violate my trust as if it’s nothing Miss Danvers. It’s clear you wanted to invoke something other than a slap on the wrist.”
“Well, there’s been talk around town that you’ve become smitten with your little pet project. Forgive me for wanting to test the theory myself. If the big bad Romanoff sisters are going soft, don’t you think I should know about it?”
Yelena shifted behind you and in turn, so did Monica. No one reached for their weapon, though you itched from the inside out. Natasha even lift an eyebrow at the statement.
“You wanted to discuss the Maroni property. I’m willing to sell, but only with the proper conditions.”
Clint had sat you down a few weeks after your first excursion. The two of you sat at the end of the very diner that you had quit. You never really tried the food but could stomach the fries- even admit to yourself that they were the best in town for their price point. The Maroni property was nothing more than a vacant lot, but it held more than that. It would make Carol the owner of 60% of the town instead of the meager 50% that split everything equally.
If there was any objection to her offer, no one would show it. Peace of mind would not be worth giving up her hold, but you were. Yelena could kick her frustrations out at home later, Clint and Kate were none the wiser to do anything but trust blindly; and you were right there with them.
“And what conditions are those?”
“The same conditions our parents have abided by all these years. There’s an honor in what we do and what we control and when you start crossing lines like the ones you did last night, you pour gasoline on an already raging fire.”
Carol tasked and took a step forward. This time the handle of your gun was in your palm. You held your stance. “So poetic, Natasha. You have been since grade school. I’ll take the land, but you’re mistaken if you think I’ll pay full price.”
Natasha clenched her jaw, her eyes darting to the rolling darkness of the sea. The waves were crashing violently against the wooden support beams. There were whitecaps miles from the shore and a storm was brewing that you could almost taste.
“Seventy-five. I won’t go any lower.”
“Alright, Seventy-five.”
Carol stuck her hand out over the circular center of the docks. It was a show of good faith, but your palm grew slick with sweat. You watched her with more care than you ever have before. Clint was rigid with tension, and you could practically hear Kate breathe nervously behind you.
Eventually, Natasha took the woman’s hand. She held it for a moment before leaning closer, whispering something that you couldn’t’ hear over the screeching of the waves. You could, however, see Carols face shaded by the port lights. The golden yellow color enveloped the stark coldness in her stare, the anger that flashed behind hazel irises.
When the gunshot sounded, Natasha’s back was to Carol and those who flanked her sides. It was such a quiet and muted sound that made your ears ring, but it was also a familiar sound. One that flashed back to that snowy night in Minnesota, the spray of pulpy blood on the startlingly white snow.
When Andrew had pulled the trigger, he looked Sheriff Deputy Edwards in the eyes and you had always wondered if the fear cut through the haze of alcohol that night. The split second where the bullet left the chamber, was there penance to be made? He’d dropped to his knees and let out a choking sound that you heard through the paned glass windows.        
There wasn’t a wall of insulation, and wood, and glass to garble the sound of the gunshot that rang out tonight. The waves seemed to swallow up your own scream and the commotion that stretched into being.
Carol had waited until Natasha broke the handshake and turned away before she fired her weapon. Something so strong and ever-present was dropped to the sun-bleached wood in a matter of moments. Natasha didn’t make a sound.
“Get down!” Clint yelled next to you.
You caught the anger in Monica’s stare, the way that Carol had moved her target from Natasha, directly to you. At this specific point, with Natasha crumpled at your feet and the woman who had pulled the trigger sneering at you, was when something snapped within you.
A good shot, you had always been a good shot. Not only that, but you’d been efficient too. Clint had given up trying to drag you away and instead made quick work of those that were backing Carol. Kate and Yelena were gone; in the throws of darkness, into hand to hand combat. It left you alone with the woman that made everyone cower in fear.
Natasha’s blood had sopped onto your shoes. Tears threatened to well up in your eyes. She wasn’t breathing. You couldn’t tell if she was breathing. She had curled into herself and hidden her face from you and while you wanted to pull her into your arms at this very moment; that wasn’t possible.
An ongoing war was raging around you. Gunfire and screaming, and oddly enough, the pungent scent of fire. Carol watched, confident in her protection. She smiled at you, a wolfish and inhuman grin.
“Now, you can’t tell me this hasn’t changed your perspective.” She said, sweeping her arms out as if this were her kingdom- as if this chaos, this reign of gunfire and screams amongst the people you loved, was what she wanted all along.
“It has,” you raised your gun, pointing it directly to her chest. To her credit, she didn’t flinch. “I just watched you shoot a woman in the back. What’s noble about that?”
She cackled “Noble? That’s the problem with you Romanoff’s, there is nothing noble about this business. To win, you have to play dirty. To win you can’t be afraid to take what you want, and I can’t exactly do that through handshakes and good will. Can I?”
“I suppose not, but how are they supposed to trust you, hm? All of those you’ve promised the world to, the ones fighting for your wellbeing as we speak?”
“I would never betray them.”
“Oh, now, I don’t believe that.”
She frowned at you and readjusted her hold on her gun. In any other world, she would have fired her gun by now, but there was something deep within Carol that had been curious about you. About how Natasha seemed to soften around your presence. Still, she didn’t understand, but she wanted it all the same.
Her finger adjusted on the trigger. You watched every movement she made. There was another, calmer, war in her mind. She could kill you right here if she wanted to, but you couldn’t tell if she did or not.
Natasha let out a wounded noise at your feet; a wet choking sound as she struggled to pull air into her lungs. Carol lifted both eyebrows and glanced down at her. “You can save her or kill me. I don’t think you’re quick enough to do both.”
Kate let out a guttural scream from further down the dock that was followed by two more blows and flashes from a gun. Most of Carols lackeys had been incapacitated in one way or another. You clocked Clint’s trembling form as he kneeled between two dark masses. You couldn’t see Yelena, couldn’t’ even hear her, but she leaned into her silence, her rage.
By the time your eyes had met with Carol’s once more, she had made her choice. She pressed further down on the trigger, and in your blind edge of confidence you fired first. Both bullets were aimed at her stomach, and both hit their mark before her single shot found it’s way to your shoulder.
The pain shot through your arm, down the numbness of your fingers. A deep sound escaped the back of your throat. The force of the blast nearly brought you to your knees. Nearly. You’d felt the heat of the bullet rip through the gore of your shoulder- enter and exit in a clean way that would hiss in pain later, but it was no match for the adrenaline.
Carol let out a groan, one that bubbled with pain. You kicked her weapon away from her, letting it slide against the wooden dock. She blinked up at you dumbly, her hands pressing against the slowly growing crimson spot in the center of her stomach.
The color dripped from the wound on your shoulder, over the silver of the casing. A singular drop of red succumbed to the pull of gravity and landed against the smooth expanse of Carol’s collarbone. When she grinned, her teeth were stained with rust.
“Tell me, Carol, what do you see?” You pulled back the hammer, ignoring her sloppy chuckles and the frothy blood that foamed past her lips. “A broken waitress, or a trained killer?”
“Now you’re getting it…” she swallowed thickly, trying to quell the pain “It’s all about perspective.”
You pulled the trigger for a third, and final time that night. You were so trusting in your aim that you refused to look when you administered the final blow. Her head dropped to the side, the bullet finding it’s way right between her eyes.
Silence seemed to fall over the docks. You could hear the crashing of the waves and the seagulls that circled above at the scent of shed blood. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and the gun you wielded was dropped to the dock.
She’d been killed so easily. This big, hulking demon that loomed over the town, and over your life. It took nothing but a rage-filled trigger pull to end it all. Your heart was in your throat, blood rushing past your ears.
And then there was Natasha.
Natasha had shifted onto her back, her hand outstretched in your direction. You could hear the painful wheeze in each breath. Her skin was pale, a bloom of red at the corner of her lip. You wanted to kiss it away, to pull her as close as possible, but you were afraid to move her.
Your knees dug into the coarse wood, your palm finding purchase on her cheek. “Nat, baby, I need you to stay awake, okay?”
“The stars, you can see them so well out here.”
You frowned, glancing up at the velvety blue sky. The constellations were bright, making little pictures of lions, and archers, and long stretches of water. It was hard to see them with the perpetual glow of the city. But out here, just like the mansion, they made a map.
“Yeah, baby, you can.” You reached blindly for her hand. It was cold. “You can’t go to sleep. Just keep looking at the stars, for me. Clint! Lena!”
Your voice broke on the second call. Your face was damp with tears as you kept track of Natasha’s stunted breathing, and the tight grip she still held you with. She refused to let you go, and you did the same, pressing the warmth of your lips to her white knuckles.
Yelena was by your side. She was pale and shaking herself. There was a gash above her eye, dripping blood and drying against her cheek. There was a split in her lip, a forming bruise under her chin and against the length of her neck.
“ne ostavlyay menya, sestra. Ty sil'neye etogo. Drat'sya.”
“Should we call an ambulance?”
“No, no hospital.” Yelena shook her head “we do this on our own, just like we always have.”
Your fingers were caked in blood, a dried brown color that was ugly against the beauty of your shared bedroom with Natasha. You wanted to scrub them clean, watch as the water was tinted a toxic orange before it circled the drain, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move.
A glass of water was set on the small table next to you, and you fought back the urge to startle. You hadn’t heard anyone enter. There was a familiar spiced scent to Darcy that you picked up on before registering her presence. She nudged the glass closer to you and lowered herself into the other chair.
“You should really let Yelena look at that shoulder.” She said.
“It’s fine.”
You picked up the glass and considered swallowing down some of the room temperature water, but thought better of it. You held onto it because you could. It grounded you, the cloudy glass stained with coppery fingerprints.
“The news… they’re saying that a wealthy businesswoman snapped. Allegedly, she lured her employees down to the docks and killed them all before turning the gun on herself.”
“Tragic.” This time you did take a swallow of the water before setting it on the table.
Darcy watched you carefully. She wasn’t being judgmental, or at least, that’s what you wanted to believe. Her eyes were still darkened with exhaustion but filled with a deep kind of worry. She hesitated, moving to put her hand on your knee, but thinking better of it.
Instead, she directed her attention to Natasha’s unconscious form on the bed. Yelena had called in a private doctor, stubborn in her efforts. He worked mostly alone, and had hushed conversation with those in the room that could comprehend better than you could in your fuzzy state.
Kate had attempted to patch you up, but you pulled away with enough intensity for her to focus on licking her own wounds. Natasha was stable, she was alive. They weren’t sure if she would make it through the night- but you’d remain by her side until they were sure.
“I can’t lose her,”
The admission was whispered and shattered. You didn’t want to acknowledge the possibility of Natasha not pulling through. She was the first person you’d met in years that not only accepted you, but pushed you to be a better version of yourself. She had a softness for Ronnie, a commanding nature to her presence.
 Darcy cracked a small smile, “leave it to you to fall in love with a loan shark that has a pension for bullets. Something tells me that’s she’s more stubborn than even you. And if that’s the case, then she’ll make it.”
You reached out and grasped Darcy’s hand, allowing her to ground you. Pain ripped through your shoulder, the bandage that you had allowed Kate to apply was dotted with the wounds efforts to gush. Still, you squeezed as hard as you could manage, listening to the heart monitor that hummed in time with the grandfather clock in the corner.
She stayed with you while you fought to stave off sleep. At one point, Clint came in with a tray of food that lay mostly untouched on the dresser. Your eyes burned as you stared at the simple rise and fall of her chest, both feet planted on the floor.
Sixteen hours had passed. You’d paced the room, and at one point, finally allowed someone to address your wounds. It throbbed in time with your heart, which in-turn, mirrored Natasha’s. It was hour twenty when you saw any sign of life, and you nearly missed it, the fluttering of her eyes as they adjusted to the sun streaming into the room.
You’d rolled your head back, trying to quell the stiffness of your neck, the hushed growl escaped your lips. “Oh… fuck.”
“That’s a beautiful sound.”
To hell with your aching body. Natasha’s voice was so meek that you’d nearly missed it altogether. You were treated with a startling blast of green color. She stared at you inquisitively, trying to prop herself up on her elbows. You were quicker than her in this state, using your palm against her chest to gently force her back onto the mattress.
“Don’t try to move,”
“I don’t do well with orders, y/n.”
“God damn it, I know.”
She gave you a small smile at this, but allowed you to coax her back into a laying position. She let out a protest of pain as you placed your ear flush against her chest, assuring that this was real, that her heart was beating strong and consistently. And it was, it really was.
Natasha chuckled, and worked her hand through your hair. “It’s okay, Zaychik. I’m alright.”
“Nat, you were shot in the back twice. It’s going to be a long road to recovery. You’re lucky that it didn’t shatter your spine, hell you could have lost the ability to walk altogether-“
She cut you off, grabbing your chin and leading your lips to hers. She tasted of blood, of the slightest bit of antiseptic and artificial cherries. She tasted like home. You fretted to pull away, knowing that she had kissed you to ultimately shut you up, but really, did that matter?
Natasha frowned into the kiss and pulled away, her fingers had found the bandage on your shoulder, running across the cross section where your skin met gauze. “You’re hurt. She hurt you.”
“She got a good shot in but had terrible aim. Nothing but a flesh wound.”
“Flesh wounds can be dangerous, Malysh.”
“Mm, so they can.” A few moments passed, your forehead pressed against hers, happy to be in her presence. “What did you say to Carol… right before she…”
Natasha let out a deep sigh and winced at the exhalation. She laid her head on the pillow and glowered at the painted ceiling above you both. You remembered staring up at it after Natasha had exhausted you on more than one occasion. Right now, she was trying to find the words, just like you had tried so desperately to find your solace.
“I threatened her family the way she threatened mine. I thought better of her, I suppose, than to shoot a woman in the back. Though, I would have done the same with the threats I laid out. I just needed to be sure that she wouldn’t… couldn’t hurt you… Ronnie.”
“You don’t have to worry about them anymore.”
“Maybe not the Danvers family, but there are more just lurking in the shadows waiting for their chance to swoop in. They’re scared now, I’m sure. But fear only goes so far.”
“I’m in this for the long haul, if you’ll have me, of course.” You tucked a strand of auburn hair behind her ear, careful of her wounds. “I don’t care if it’s the Russo’s, or the Sarkissian’s, or any other psycho family that tries to take your power away from you. They’ll have to go through me.”
Natasha chuckled, “Alright, quickdraw, don’t get too cocky. We’ll lay low for a little bit. Heal. Then we can talk about the future.”
Somehow, that was enough for you. Natasha waking up, speaking and smiling, and laughing would always be enough for you.
“Drop the gun,” Kate’s voice was shaking, her hands outstretching in front of her in the ultimate sign of surrender. She looked vulnerable, the sun beating down on her shoulders and her stormy eyes catching the reflection of the water. “I’m unarmed, this isn’t cool, man.”
Her protests didn’t’ seem to matter one bit. Cooper pumped the front end of his gun and aimed the ice cold water directly at Kate’s stomach. His action was a silent call to the brigade of children that ascended on her; some carrying water guns like Coop, and others nailing her with neon colored balloons.
“Ah, the inhumanity!” She fell to the grass, scooping Ronnie up in the process. “Shield me, kid!”
You watched the girl with fondness, fighting back until the end. Clint chuckled behind you, flipping the burgers that had browned evenly on one side. The scent was intoxicating, and though you wouldn’t’ admit your hunger outright; your mouth was watering.
Yelena had ascended on the situation, taking a super soaker and dousing the clan that was attacking, and winning, Kate. She tucked Ronnie under her arm like a football and started to dash away towards the fence, out of earshot.
Clint’s wife, Laura, was pouring a glass of lemonade for Darcy. The two of them watched the scene from poolside chairs with as much amusement as you carried. They spoke with smiles on their faces, cheeks flushed from the heat of the day.
Warm arms wrapped around your midsection, a chin resting on your shoulder. The scent of sunscreen filled your lungs. You had always felt innate safety in Natasha’s embrace. She kissed behind your ear once, and then the side of your neck.
“She’s good with them.” Natasha purred.
“I think it’s because she’s a kid at heart.”
“And you let her protect your assets?” Clint tsked as he loaded the burgers onto a nearby plate. “Seriously, without Yelena training her I never would have taken the safety off her gun.”
“I can hear you!” Kate called back, shifting Ronnie to her other hip. “They are being so rude. I’m more than capable of being a degenerate.”
“Degenerate,” Yelena scoffed “Kate Bishop, you’ve invented the word.”
You shook your head, turning in Natasha’s arms before you draped your own over her shoulders. She wore that same black bikini that she had on when she proclaimed your new rank in her little empire. It seemed so long ago- and she was certainly marred with new markings to prove this. Your fingers tracing gently over the healed scars on her stomach.
You leaned forward and pressed your lips against hers, “Thank you for this.”
“Mm,” She hummed into the embrace “For what, detka?”
You deepened the embrace, whispering against her “resolution.”  
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oval3000 · 7 months
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Chapter 4
Yandere Psych Patient König x Nurse reader
Warning: Possesive, Obsession, Death, Gore, Blood, Smut, Toxic behavior, age gap. Assault.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
-------------------------------------------------------
"I don't like this," Jacob rubbed his for head, giving a few scratches. His hand on his hip with a slump posture. His eyes were giving out with annoyance and tiredness, not from the labor work, but from the system.
The fellow nurse could give an eye roll after seeing what was happening. "Anything to save some money, right?"
Mr. Miller ordered that half of the guards on the fifth floor would go to other floors to cover other shifts of guards that quit and who were..laid off. Those 20,000 thousand dollars couldn't come out from thin air as to what Mr. Miller thought it would, so it was the only option, to send some guards home.
Meaning that other guards from other floors had to move around and, unfortunately, your floor was affected by this.
The two guards that were on König, left as well as four others.
Things have now changed, your safety may now be a risk. But to to be quite honest with you, your safety is nothing to be worried about.
You did your morning rounds, assisted where there is needed. During their lunch, you heard the main phone ring from the floor. Jacob picked it up, "this is Jacob. Yes, sir. Okay...yeah...no problem." He hung up the phone taking a deep breath. He walked behind you and tapped on your shoulder. You turned your head away from the computer, "Mr. Miller wants to see you in his office."
You felt a big tull on your stomach. You were nervous. He never called you in his office before and with everything that is going on, you could only imagine worse.
Is he going to fire you?
You can't loose this job, the pay is good. You can't pack and move again to find something better.
You headed down to his office in a bit of a hurry, you didn't want to miss their lunch round check ups. You knocked on the brown wooden door with his name ingraved on a gold platter.
"Come in." You entered into his office and saw him sitting as his usual chair, writing whatever he is writing on a piece of paper. He stood up, fixing his suit. Mr. Miller, about the age of 50. Still has a grown set of hair only it's shown to have some grey strand hairs peaking through. 6 feet 3 inches maybe. Looks a bit fit, lackes muscles though. His light beard with a few grey strands of hair that follows the shape of his long jawline.
You saw photos that are in his office. Paintings of mountains and oceans. You saw his degree in psychology and business on a sharp, dark, brown, frame hanged up on the cream wall.
"Is there something wrong, sir?" You questioned standing behind the two chairs aligned perfectly in front of his desk. You hoped that he doesn't fire you. You can't hit rock bottom. Not now after everything.
"No, I just wanted to check up on you. I also wanted to apologize for the way I reacted towards you during the Gabriel incident. It was really unprofessional of me to do so. You were just doing your job, I'm sorry." He creeped in closer to you. You felt uncomfortable, a bad vibe coming off from him. He placed his hand on your shoulder, gripping it lightly. "If you need anything, my office is always open for you."
You swallowed the little bit of saliva, taking a step away from him, but it only brought him closer to you.
You panicked. You looked around to see if anyone, anyone at all can see, but nothing. The door is shut, the window blinds are closed. "It's okay sir, I should get going."
You turned around to walk away, but you felt his hands on your arm, pulling away in. "You look adorable playing hard to get"
Your eyes widen. You felt absolute frozen. "Sir. Let go of me!" He dragged you in front of his desk. The movement was so sudden, you couldn't say anything. "Please sir."
He gripped your shoulders tight that you couldn't move. You felt his body pressed against you. You felt his hips pushing in deeper. You couldn't help, but to let tears fall from your eyes. You felt so frozen that you hated yourself. This couldn't be happening to you.
You honestly wished he called you in to fire you. His body completely compressed to yours making you bend over on his desk. His hands roamed your body. His cold hands went inside your scrub shirt. You shook at his touch with fear. "No!Please! Stop!"
"You feel so good " he cupped your breast, pulling under your bra to get a better touch. Eventually his one hand left one of your breast and it landed on your ass. You heard the sound of his belt unbuckling and his zipper being pulled down. He gripped onto your scrub pants and pulled them down, including your underwear, showing your naked vagina. "Fuck. I should've fucked you along time ago."
"Please! Please! Stop! Let go of me!" You cried out, feeling his finger pressed on your area.
A beeping sound came from his phone, "Sir, you have a call coming in. It's from the CEO."
"You gotta be fucking kidding me." He finally let go. He yanked your body closer to him. He cupped your face with his hand. You felt his disgusting breath near your mouth. "If you tell anyone about this. I'll ruin your fucking life. You got that."
You nodded as he aggressively let go, making you fall a bit on his desk. You felt so humiliated while pulling up your scrub pants and fixing your bra. You were about to walk out when he said, "Oh and make sure no one sees you like that. Get yourself fixed."
You didn't bother turning to him. You walked about quickly and ignoring the staff by not making eye contact. You pressed the button for the elevator, which felt like an eternity to arrive. Never felt like hours waiting for the elevator. Thankfully, no one was there, it was just you. You pressed on the fifth floor button.
You wanted to vomit. You scrunched your face as the tears fell down your cheeks. You covered your mouth trying hard to cover your sobs. Even though you are alone in the elevator, you felt embarrassed. You took deep breaths as it was reaching near the floor. You wiped away as much tears as you can. Even so you know your eyes and nose are red and puffy.
You avoided eye contact with everyone. You prayed that no one will come up to you ask why Mr. Miller called you down to his office. You grabbed the medical cart with the things you need and quickly went to each patients room, the last one being Königs.
You jiggle the kids, the guards left for you, to open his door. You swang the door a bit open and back inside his room. You grabbed the tray with his medication and placed it down on top of the cart. König watched you. He knew something was wrong.
You raised your head up, feeling the tears forming again. You hated yourself for not stopping the tears from coming out. Not now. Not when you are doing your job.
But you couldn't help it. You covered your face as tears were running down your face. You didn't want to cry in front of a patient, nevertheless, König.
He quickly got up and took your arm to pull you closer to him. He sat back down on his bed with his legs spread a bit to let you in closer to him. He couldn't see your face, which was still buried in your hands. If you could see his eyes, the look he's giving you. The same look he gave to the people he wanted to kill, to his enemies in the battle field. "What happened, schatz?" his thick accent was hard and impactful. You uncovered your face to see him, for him to see you. He saw the tears, the redness in your eyes.
The sympathetic look he gave you made those tears flowing again. Being comfort is not something you're use to. Your always dealing with everything by yourself.
He palmed your cheek, wiping your tears away. You shook your head lightly. You can't tell him. He's your patient. You can't tell your patient is a psychiatric hospital that you were almost raped by your boss. "Bitte tell me."
"H-he....touched me." You stared away, but his other palm touched your cheek, making you to look at him.
You saw the stare he gave you. Filled with sympathy and anger. "He. Touched. You."
You nodded. "He trapped me in his office. He was going to rape me. If he didn't get that phone call, he would've-." Your words turned into sobs.
He got up and pulled you into a tight hug. Your head was buried into his chest, letting out your quiet sobs.
He held you tight and close. His hand rubbing your back while the other was petting your head. "Shhh..it's okay, schatz. It's okay."
He turned his head towards the slight, opened, door. His way to freedom. Your freedom.
Away from this. From every assholes that's here. Away from everyone else.
"Mein liebling. Mach dir keine Sorgen. Ich werde ihn töten. Ich werde jeden töten, der dir wehtut. (My darling. don't worry. ill kill him. I'll kill anyone that hurts you.) " he gripped you tight. He doesn't want to let you go. He wants you to be attached to him. For you to share everything of his. "Mine," he whispered. "All mine."
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areislol · 4 months
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The stalker
►— pairings. genshin men x gn! creator! reader
►— warnings. mentions of stalking/a stalker (if it makes you uncomfortable please don't read), implies that reader enjoys coffee (sorry if you're not a coffee enjoyer), slight sprinkle of angst, crack/fluff, proofread
►— synopsis. albedo created a machine where it would bring back their creator, who was stuck in another world, back to where they belong. but instead of bringing you here to them, it brought them to where you were.
►— a/n. for some reason this feels more like a filler than an actual eventful chapter. sigh i hope you guys enjoy this! I'm also writing a sahau headcanon :)
►— wordcount. 6.4k
✧ part one | ✧ part two | ✧ part three | ✧ part four | ✧ part five | ✧ part six | more tba.. NAVIGATION
recommended to listen to: snooze- sza
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Having a stalker would be the last thing you could ever imagine having and experiencing.
You weren't exactly that good looking (in your opinion anyway), you were just average. You didn't have any powers or anything, so why would someone pick you out of billions of people to stalk?
The idea itself was baffling, it was even more chilling with the fact that you were quite literally talking and interacting with your stalker. It was utterly horrifying with the fact that he was so close to you, so close that he could snatch you if he wanted to—take you away.
As you lay still on your bed your mind was flooding with the images of the man, his black hoodie hiding his upper face, his twisted smile. You heaved a sigh before turning around, your face meeting with Ayato's.
He was gorgeous. He looked so heavenly and handsome that's for sure. The inner corner of your lips tug upwards as you examine his face, it seems as if his face immediately calmed you down. Your eyes soften as you continue to watch him, his chest heaving up and down gently.
But as the constant fear and unease had taken its toll on your mind, the thoughts of your stalker seemed to consume you despite how hard you tried to push them away.
The room was wrapped in an eerie blue hue, mirroring the turmoil within you. The morning light has yet pierced through the darkness, but the blue outside seemed to mock your unsettled state of mind. As you sat up in your bed, you heaved a great sigh before running your fingers through your tangled hair, groaning in frustration.
What was today going to be like? Could you really go back to work after being informed about the fact that you literally have a STALKER? Who in the right mind would go back to work after that?!
.... Except for you, we don't count you in. You desperately needed the money for college and couldn't just skip a day off of work because you felt unsafe, technically you can but what about the money? You needed it.
Your face was buried in the palms of your hands as you took a deep breath. Suddenly, you were pulled out of your thoughts by a soft groan followed by the sounds of the blanket rustling and a groan.
A soft, raspy yet sultry voice allures you, making your stomach flip.
"Already awake, darling? Isn't it a bit too—" Ayato yawned as his voice stretched, strands of hair softly drooped and covering half of his face even more. As you pulled away from your palms and stared at Ayato, seeing him looking drowsy and tired (yet so handsome) made you smile.
"A bit too early..." he continued, blinking groggily towards you. The corner of his lips tugged outwards as the realization dawned on him, he was sleeping beside you, a beauty, his creator. A red hue soon makes its way to his cheeks, you watch him curiously, his reaction is adorable (although you don't know why he is suddenly so red).
You shake your head, stretching your arms as a soft groan slips out of your mouth. "Not really, I... have to go to work." You replied, trying your best not to sound upset. But despite that Ayato could see right through you.
He knew there was something off but did not speak up with his thoughts, maybe he was wrong? After a few minutes, you both decide to get out of bed, careful not to wake up the rest.
The sounds of the tap running and stopping indicated that a few were awake, not only that but you could hear the sounds of sizzling, Thoma or Aether were already cooking breakfast. You were always so thankful for them, they made you breakfast, kept you company and were there when you needed them.
As you hopped off your bed you held onto Ayato's arm for support as you had slept in an awkward and weird position, applying pressure to your legs which eventually led to them being sore. Ayato enjoyed every second of your touch.
"Are you sure you don't want me to carry you? I wouldn't mind, really." Ayato offered, trying to convince you to let him carry you, obviously, you politely denied him. "There's no need, thank you though!"
After spending a couple of minutes brushing your teeth and washing your face with Ayato, you both went your own way with him going to the kitchen while you went back into your bedroom to wake up the rest of the men.
You were unsure why some were still sleeping in as they usually were awake before you, but it seemed like they were tired. "Good morning, wake up everybody!" You yelled, careful not to startle them too much. Collective groans could be heard followed by the rustles of bed sheets.
Aether turns on his back and lets out a sigh. "I'm awake.." He groans, rubbing his eyes and sitting up on the mattress. He groggily blinks at you before giving you a small smile. He was so adorable. And his messy bed hair didn't help either.
Itto grumbled and hid under the sheets. "Five more minutes... I need to finish my dream.." He mumbled before snoring off. You sighed and shook your head before walking towards Itto and crouching to his figure. Could a dream really be that interesting?
After poking his head a few times to get him to wake up, Itto rolled on his back and let out a huff. "Why don't you just sleep in with me? Aren't you tired?" He yawned, rubbing his eyes.
You shake your head. "No, not really. Now get up" Itto reluctantly got up when you heard Wanderer scoff. "So lazy." Wanderer gives Itto one last glance before walking out of your room, probably heading to the bathroom.
Itto groans, his morning was already somewhat ruined. "Don't think too much about it." And with that, you left the room with Itto clinging onto your arm with no plan of letting go of you either.
It was funny as this buff and hunkier man was clinging onto YOUR much smaller arm.
You both make your way towards the living room and into the kitchen, the smell of warm bread fills your nose. Toast? You thought as you seated yourself down in front of the table.
Itto plants himself right beside you, reluctantly letting go of your arm. "Good morning Y/n, did you sleep well?" Tighnari asks, seating himself beside you as well. Tighnari set down a book alongside a cup of warm water.
You nod your head when you remember something.
"Oh, I slept well thank you. What about you though? I remember falling asleep beside you... oh, and I was touching something soft as well."
You notice how Tighnari seems flustered by your words as his ear twitched. He clears his throat softly before replying. "That's good to hear and I slept pretty well."
He left it at that, he replied to everything but your last sentence. You slowly nod your head—signifying for him to go on. Tighnari's cheeks reddened before speaking.
"You fell asleep while touching my ears. I assume they helped you fall asleep?" He teased, a small smirk appearing on his lips. You had a hunch that he already knew the answer.
You didn't want to lie of course, yes, you did sleep better while touching his ears but it was still a bit.. awkward to admit. But to your luck Thoma came over, holding a cup of warm, delicious-smelling coffee as well as a plate of cheese toast.
Something small and simple but delicious. You let out a soft and relieved sigh, Thoma was right on time—reliving you from the awkwardness of answering the very embarrassing question.
(It really wasn't that awkward but to you it was.)
He places the plate and cups down on the table before muttering a soft and gentle "Good morning". "Where did you learn to make this? It tastes amazing!" You beamed, taking a sip of the warm coffee. Thoma offers a tender smile as he seats himself down and replies.
"I watched a video about it on the TV, an.. ad I think it was? It was quite informative, really! Although the ingredients were a bit worrying. Should you really be drinking that so early in the morning?"
You could tell from his tone that he was worried and you could've sworn you felt a jab at your heart. You wave your hand, dismissing his comment. "Nah, it'll be okay."
"You'll be okay?" "Yeah, I will don't worry."
Thoma smiles uncertainly but nonetheless watches you eat your food, Tighnari goes back to reading his book about flowers and nature as Itto munches on his sandwich.
The sounds of a newslady could be heard from the living room, you occasionally glanced over to the boy and the TV, enjoying the beautiful sight of the men as they watched the news carefully and attentively.
After a couple of minutes, you finished your breakfast and got up from your seat, Tighnari and Itto had already gotten up first and were sitting on the couch along with the others—commenting alongside the news reporter.
You were used to this now. You made your way to the sink and carefully placed your dish in the sink before turning on the tap, soaking the dishes with water so that it would be easier to wash later on.
Normally you would wash your own dishes but felt unmotivated to do anything today, but alas you still had to go to work. Just the mere thought of returning to work and maybe even facing your regular customer you now know as your stalker.
Shuddering at the thought you slowly make your way to your coffee table and grab your bag as well as your house keys (not that you use it much nowadays), you really wanted to spend time with the men but of course, you had to go to work.
Albedo gives you a look as he watches you get your things, ready to leave to go to work. He, along with the others, knew something was up. You were slightly more timid, more than usual.
And also that message you had received? Oh yeah, they did not forget that message "Mark Holey" guy sent you last night. "Leaving already?" Albedo questions. You reply back, not looking at Albedo as you speak—too busy focusing on
"Yeah I have to help prepare some cakes today so I need to go there earlier. Stay safe okay? I'll be back at four (4) PM probably."
He only gives you a silent nod when you turn around and look at him. Noticing the look on his face you knew something was wrong. But you didn't want to pry, the same went for you.
Since last night after getting the message Albedo, Dainsleif and a couple more were suspicious and concerned. You had never mentioned a guy named "Mark" before, maybe he was your friend, but either way, they had never seen him pop up on your screen.
It wasn't like they could just tell you about it though, what if you thought they were weird for looking at your phone? Would you be mad at them for being so concerned over something so little? Their thoughts could never catch a break.
Gorou fought his urge to jump on you and tightly embrace you in his arms. But with a few quick and knowing looks thrown towards him, he knew better. As you slipped on your shoes in a hurry, Neuvillette got up from the couch and towards you, standing behind you awkwardly yet with such authority.
You finally put your foot on the ground after struggling to put on your shoes and as you turn around to bid the men farewell you almost get a heart attack.
"N-Neuvillette! You scared me.. again." You had jumped a little bit from the scare but you calmed down nonetheless. Neuvillette apologizes, looking at you like a kicked puppy. He looked as if he had done the worst crime in all history (to him it was).
"I apologize... I just wanted to say goodbye and to stay safe." He sounded so sad it made you feel so guilty, you offered him a tender smile before responding. "No need to apologize it's fine! And that's very sweet of you, thank you! I'll be on my way then?"
Neuvillette only silently nods as you twist the doorknob—opening it just enough where you slip through but all of a sudden you feel a warm hand gently resting on your shoulder.
Turning around you were met with Neuvillette once again. "Something wrong?" You asked, brows furrowing as you waited for his reply. Neuvillette's mouth opens slightly, words just about to slip right through but he quickly closes it, his eyes darting away for a brief moment before his gaze sets right back at you.
"Is.. Is there really no way for you to bring us there with you? Can we really not come with you?" His eyes bore into yours, waiting to get an answer out of you. You sigh as your gaze wanders off behind Neuvillette and onto your living room where the rest of the men sit on the ground and couch.
Some were reading books – Al-Haitham, Albedo, Tighnari and Ayato –watching the TV or tampering with your broken gadgets – Albedo, Kaveh, Heizou and Lyney – (such as your poor broken iPad that your younger sister broke in a fit of anger.)
While most were watching you and when your eyes met theirs one at a time a smirk grew on their face. They were all quite a handful, it would look suspicious if you, all of a sudden, bought all 24 men into your pastry shop.
Who wouldn't freak out at the sight of 24 men trailing behind one singular person?!
"Maybe soon, but not right now for sure." Your eyes met up with his once again his deep blue eyes still staring at yours. God that man could maintain eye contact.
And as you two just stood there, not saying a word to each other, the more you noticed how close Neuvillette was getting and before you knew it Neuvillette was leaning down towards you, his face just inches apart from yours.
It was as if he was just about to kiss you, and the thought of him going to kiss you was.. unfathomable. Fathom the Unfathomable am I right?
An awkward silence ensues before Neuvillette sighs, closing his eyes shut before pulling and backing away. You thanked the Lord mentally before letting out a shaky breath. What was that all about?
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As the men all waved and sent you goodbye, you waved goodbye yourself before closing the door shut, you were gone now.
"Something is definitely wrong," Albedo speaks up, putting his book down carefully on a table. "Yeah! Whoever is making Our Grace like this will pay!" Itto yelled. Dainsleif cradles his head in his palms as he shakes his head in disappointment.
"The goon's getting too passionate now," Dainsleif mumbled to himself, unbeknownst to him a couple others heard him and they wholeheartedly agreed.
Wanderer shushed Itto but despite that, he agreed with him as well. Whoever was making you feel this way would surely pay. "I thought we wouldn't call Y/n 'Your Grace' anymore?" Al-Haitham spoke, not looking up from his book.
"Oops?" Itto sheepishly smiled at Al-Haitham (who wasn't even looking at him). "Either way, I'm sure if something was troubling them, they would tell us." Al-Haitham continued.
Everybody knew they weren't so close to you, but they felt like they were slowly building their trust in you. Plus, they would never lie to you or do anything to upset you. As a matter of fact they would rather die than upset you in any way.
Even so, they only hoped you could and would confide in them.
Hours passed since you left, they all busied themselves with their own thing. Tighnari and Albedo were exchanging sketching tips and doing sketching challenges, Thoma was resting in your bed as he was tired from doing a "Just Dance" exercise with Itto, Kaeya and Childe.
(You introduced them to Just Dance for funsies, they were intrigued by the songs/lyrics and the dance moves. Some did NOT like to dance and therefore did not do it but when you gave them those darn puppy dog eyes.. they couldn't resist.)
The Fatui were again admiring the view from your window, watching the people doing their own thing. The people's lives here weren't so different from their world but still, it was their creator's world and they were intrigued.
Ayato, Aether and Wriothesley were sitting side by side on chairs as they skimmed through your laptop. You had given them your permission to go on your laptop to do whatever. And they happily accepted with the one condition that they wouldn't go on a site called "Tumblr".
Aether was still learning how to use your laptop and type, they scrolled through Google, typing random words—Dogs, Cats, Pencil, Man, Woman, you name it. While they were looking at cute puppies, Wriothelsye pointed out how there was a tab named "Genshin Impact archon memes".
"Genshin? Isn't that the uh, game-world thing we're from?" He mused, "Click on it." and Aether did so, upon clicking the tab they were brought upon many images of the Archons.
Zhongli, Furina, Raiden Shogun, Venti and Nahida. There were so many images, it was a funny sight. Why was Zhongli pole dancing....? Safe to say they were slightly traumatized. Zhongli himself was embarrassed yet concerned when Aether called him over to see him "bussing it down", as the title said.
In the end, Zhongli forbids them from looking at any other memes. They would just find another way to entertain themselves before you came back home.
"Ugh when will Y/n come back I miss them..." Lyney whined, tapping his finger on the couch in boredom as he lay there, his eyes focused on the door—hoping that he would see the door unlock and that you would be there. But of course, that wouldn't happen.
"Eh I don't know but they said around four to five, am I right, Neuvillette?" Heizou turns to face Neuvillette who is sipping a cup of cold water. "Mhm, you're right."
It was silent from then on as everybody did their own thing when Aether was suddenly reminded of something out of the blue. "Hey guys.. remember that text message thing Y/n got last night?"
A few looked his way in confusion while some hummed in agreement. "What message?" "The one Y/n got last night..? The name was uh.. Marcus Hole?"
"It was 'Mark Holey', Aether." Dainsleif sighed. "Close enough," Aether mumbled back, slightly embarrassed. "But either way, what do you mean? What message did Y/n receive? I wasn't awake." Cyno chimed in, confused.
They spent the next hour or so discussing the mysterious message, making up excuses and ideas of what it meant.
"I don't know that message gave me the creeps." Cyno shudders, "I mean like who sends out a message like that? Weirdo." He continued, and the others agreed. Who on earth just sends out a message like that?
"Maybe Y/n has a secret admirer..?!" Itto suddenly gasps dramatically and loudly, almost giving Kaveh a heart attack.
"Oh please, if anyone was their secret admirer it would be us—" Lyney cuts himself off as he realizes what he said, not only that but all of the stares he was getting (they knew what he said was true).
Lyney cleared his throat. ".. Uh I mean like.. you know?" he tried his best to cover up his words but to no avail. No one commented on what he said, they all did not want to admit to having a crush on you.
If they did outright admit it, wouldn't the others find them a creep? Would you find them to be creepy..?
And that is why they opt to be quiet and only hope to win your heart through actions.
Needless to say, they spent the next hour or so discussing the strange message and what it could've meant.. but on the other hand you... were struggling in the store.
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Days would pass when you went to work and returned home, utterly stressed and frustrated. One thing the men all noticed was how happy and content you were before leaving for work, and how less talkative and timid you were coming back home.
It looked as though something had a toll on your health and it pained them to see you like that, they all agreed that they should not pry in case it was sensitive for you but even so, they couldn't help but worry and make sure you were alright there and then.
You lay on your bed, just lying there with a heavy heart and mind. Neuvillette sat on the edge of the bed and watched you silently, although your eyes were covered by your arm you could sense his stare.
"Everything okay, Nevy?" You had all grown accustomed to giving each other nicknames now, by far the stupidest (and cutest, you deny it though) is "Snookums" Can you guess who? Childe.
"I should be the one asking you that," Neuvillette chuckles as he turns to face you, slowly and gently moving your arm away from your face. You cast him a curious look, wondering what he knew and what he didn't.
You knew you were bad at covering up your feelings and lying but was it really that bad? "What do you mean? I'm fine if anything" You huffed, sitting up on your bed.
Neuvillette hummed, observing your face and body language, you were definitely not fine. "Don't give me that look Nevy, I swear I'm fine."
You swear? Should you really be swearing something like that..? You were not fine at all and you knew it.
"Okay fine, something did happen—well, IS happening but it's a very small matter so there's no need for you to worry."
Seconds passed with Neuvillette continuing to stare at you, but the more time passed the more he noticed how uncomfortable you got, obviously you did not want to speak about what was going on.
Neuvillette finally let out a sigh, breaking the silence. "I won't pry, Y/N. But if you ever need anything or advice I'm here, we're here." He hinted that you could talk to anyone you like (ahem the 24 men) not just him.
You were thankful for his kindness but this was your business, you didn't want to drag them into your business. "Could you leave me alone just for a bit? I'm sorry..." Neuvillette dismissed your apology and instead apologized for his behaviour.
"No, it's okay. If anything I apologize for making you uncomfortable. If you need me I'll be in the living room alright? Got to make sure those boys aren't causing a ruckus now."
His words made you smile as you nodded your head, thanking him for leaving you alone. When the door closes shut you flop down back onto your bed, finally letting your tears run freely down your cheeks.
All of your bottled-up feelings came pouring out, and you couldn't help but restrain your sobs. The taste of salt lingered on your lips, you clutched your chest, fingers digging into the fabric. Everything was all too much and you didn't know what to do, what could you do?
As each day passed you were vigilant when heading out, always looking past your shoulders just incase something were to happen. You wouldn't feel a looming presence or anything but the image of a man in a black hoodie with his face covered coming from behind and attacking you was more than enough to keep you on guard.
Your imagination was wild indeed, you thought of many things that could happen to you, maybe he would come up from behind and place a handkerchief over your mouth that was doused in some sleeping drug?!
Maybe he would follow you home and break in through your window..? That couldn't be possible anyway, you had 28 men in your house, and there was no way he would break in unnoticed.
Currently, you were seated down on a chair, swirling a silver spoon in your cup, the darkly coloured brown blending in nicely with the lighter colours, it was a pretty sight, and along with the warm aroma... It was as if the smell itself could take everything off your mind.
Sighing you looked out the window, enjoying the bright and sunny view, totally contrasting the vibe and light in the room you were in. "Mind if I sit here?"
A soft familiar voice drags you out of your thoughts as you look up, it is the woman from before. You hadn't seen her since the day she informed you about your stalker. "Huh? Oh, yeah of course!" You watch as she sets her bag down beside her chair as she sits herself down.
"What were you looking at? And why aren't you working?" She asked, cocking her head in confusion, a sigh escapes your lips before answering. "Enjoying the view I suppose, and I'm just taking a break.. oh! I haven't seen you for a bit.. how are you?"
Thanks to you, you both managed to have a pretty nice conversation, talking about your hobbies and interests and so on, you both exchanged names as well, learning that her name was Elisa.
Just as your laughter died down Elisa cleared her throat before looking around cautiously, her actions caught your attention as you too, scanned the room. "Uh what are you—" "Just checking for someone, hey, you... have you tried to get help yet? I mean the whole stalker ordeal."
Her voice was barely above a whisper but you somehow managed to hear her clearly, your eyes widened at her words. "Well... I.." You groaned, clearly frustrated.
"I tried to get the police on it but they said I didn't have any evidence and therefore couldn't file a report or something, I'm not used to dealing with these kinds of things so maybe I'm doing something wrong.."
Elisa attentively listened to your words, humming as you spoke. "I see.. what about we exchange contact, I'll help you!" Elisa grinned, your eyes widened from shock, was she really willing to help you out?
"Wait—really? Are you sure?" Still a bit shocked you narrow your eyes at her, you didn't want her caught up in your mess. "Mhm, positive. Besides, my father's the Chief!" Elisa really was an angel.
You grab out your phone before switching the phone with Elisa to exchange contact. As you typed in your number Elisa spoke up, "You haven't unlocked your phone yet." Looking up you see your phone in your face with just the lock screen on. "Oh, sorry!"
Grabbing your phone you unlocked your phone before passing it back to Elisa, you were done with your number so you set her phone down on the table, waiting for her to be done. As Elisa punched her number she couldn't help but remember your lock screen.
Speaking of phones, you really ought to buy a phone or something sooner or later to contact them in case something happens.. and vice versa.
Finally, Elisa was done as she gave your phone back before taking hers. "Your lock screen," She began, you pouted in confusion. "My.. lock screen?" Elisa nods, "who are they? They're quite handsome.." You perk up as she mentions them.
You begin to explain how they were your "friends" and when you took that picture.
"I remember the day I took this, I think this was.. a couple of days ago? I wanted to try out that "finger heart" trend on TikTok with all of them! Of course, normally it's just with two but since I wanted to include them all I just concluded for me to do the heart with him,"
You point at Al-haitham, a soft fond smile spreads across your lips remembering how he begrudgingly agreed to make a finger heart with you.
"And the rest would just make a heart with their hands!" You chirped, putting your phone back in your pocket. Elisa nods her head, a faint yet noticeable blush tinting her cheeks. "I see..."
Elisa sits there across from you, contemplating something all the while you begin to hum a soft tone and sip your drink. You both stayed silent (not that you minded), doing your own thing. Elisa occasionally glanced up at you, watching your every move and your face.
If, in the end, she helps you get that stalker in jail and lock him up.. would you help her hook her up with one of them? Just the thought itself makes her feel all giddy.
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After an hour you decide to pack up your things and clock off, you were more than happy with the fact that your new friend, Elisa, would help you catch your stalker but you couldn't get your hopes up too high just yet.
You waved goodbye to Elisa and the owner before opening the door, the wind chimes tinkling with the wind. "Hey—Wait up!" Turning around you could see Elisa running towards you, her tote bag hanging on her shoulder as she rushed towards you.
"How about I walk you home? You must not feel safe nowadays.." She stated, scanning your face in the hopes of finding her answer quickly. "I guess so, thank you once again." A faint smile appears on your lips before turning around and holding the door open for her.
The walk back home was peaceful, you felt quite safe around Elisa. Besides, no person who would want to attack someone would do it out in broad daylight.. especially not when they had another person with them.
You made little talk during the walk back, opting to stay a bit quieter as you noticed how Elisa seemed to really be thinking hard. Maybe she was planning to catch the man? Either way, you shouldn't disturb her.
Finally, you reach your home, walking up to the front door you fumble for the keys in your bag. After finding it you slid it into the keyhole before turning it followed by the sound of a "click!".
You were finally home.
Turning around you waved goodbye to Elisa with a smile. "See you soon!" Elisa waved back and eye your home, so this is where you lived. It was a modest and simple.
Stepping into your home you closed the door behind you and locked it before placing your bag down and hurriedly kicking off your shoes, "I'm home!" You yelled out, taking off your jacket and placing it over a chair.
The sounds of people scurrying could be heard, and that's when you spotted Aether speed walking towards you, the others surrounding him running after him (more like you) was a funny sight and before you knew it Aether was embracing you lovingly in his arms.
"I missed you so much Y/N!" Aether blurts out, his cheek pressed against yours. "We, We missed you too Y/N" Diluc clears his throat, clearly not liking how Aether was hogging you all up.
As a bicker between the boys ensues with the attempt of Scaramouche trying to pry Aether and Heizou off of you, a small snicker escapes your lips. The scene itself was hilarious but this was what you really needed after a long day.
Scara, Heizou and Aether stopped fighting and turned to face you along with the rest of the men, some of the others were in your bedroom (they knew you were here but stayed in your room knowing you'd come in and greet them sooner or later).
"I missed you guys too." A small smile breaks outs as you pat Aether's head. With no delay, they began to fight once again, why? Apparently, you had given Childe the look that Itto saw.
Despite all the ruckus they caused (not that you're complaining but sometimes it gets out of hand, but you have the help of the others!), you still loved them regardless and enjoyed their presence.
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The weekend soon came over (thank the Lord) and you could finally relax. Currently you were sitting on the floor with your back pressed up against the couch, Kaeya laid on your lap, his head resting on your thighs and boy was he in heaven.
It was as if your thighs and his head were meant to be... the perfect combo. Baizhu sat next to you, sipping on a juice box (he had grown quite fond of them) while watching the TV.
Wriothesley was sitting by your other side, chatting with Cyno, Venti and Kazuha. Yes, it was an odd sight to see them all interacting when they were all different from one another but it was cute at the same time, they were all talking about their experiences back in Teyvat.
(Cough cough Y/N please come back to Teyvat cough cough)
All the while Thoma along with Ayato were making lunch in the kitchen, it was always either Thoma, Aether or Ayato cooking but it wasn't like you were complaining.
Not only that but you were dead set on learning to bake with them, so now you had something to be looking forward to next week where you would begin your baking lessons.
As you sit there watching the TV with the men and stuffing your mouth with chips you suddenly feel a buzz next to your leg. Looking down you notice your phone screen lighting up from a text sent to you by... Elisa?
You picked up your phone and began to type back.
El: Y/N! you on? i got some really good news!
Y/N: i'm on! and really? you gotta tell me asap
You see the small chat bubble of Elisa typing, you felt butterflies in the pit of your stomach as you watch her type until she sends her message.
El: we caught the guy :) long story short when i went back home i talked to my father about it and just by a chance he said that there were multiple other reports of people reporting a strange man following them and other coincidences and all...
El: my father began to search for the man on his own and guess what! he saw the same exact described man just walking around the park looking super suspicious.. i mean how stupid can a man be!! 😭
A grin spreads on your cheeks as you let out a sigh of relief, thank God... you were expecting this case to be dragged on for a bit as you've seen from the movies but ultimately it wasn't and for the better too!
After sending a message back to her, you couldn't stop yourself from profusely thanking her and her help to which she said it was no problem.
It felt as if a large boulder was lifted from your shoulders as your shoulders dropped. "Oh finally.." You muttered to yourself, closing your phone shut and placing it back down.
"Everything alright?" Kaeya questioned as he stared at your phone and back at you. "You seem quite happy." Looking down at Kaeya you smiled and nodded your head.
"Mhm, I'm really happy right now, it's nothing much don't worry." Kaeya doesn't respond but rather turns around before wrapping his arms around your waist, snuggling his face in your stomach.
You were used to his affection, this was nothing compared to the other things he does. Sigh.
This whole ordeal didn't feel real, you were thankful it was over, yes, but it felt so.. quick. You were feeling uneasy and on edge for weeks but then in a day it just ends?
It didn't feel real, but it was, and you were more than happy. As you were thinking about everything you were dragged out of your thoughts by Cyno's voice.
"Hey Y/N! Want to hear some new jokes I made up just right now?" Cyno's eyes glisten with anticipation as he watches you. "Hmmm, sure why not?" The smile on your face didn't waver as you noticed how giddy Cyno looked, adorable.
Before you knew it you were laughing and tearing up how stupid yet funny Cyno's jokes were, the jokes themselves weren't so.. funny but the way he delivered them sure did something to you.
Cyno stared at you in awe as you clutched your stomach from laughter, wiping away your tears. "W—wait say t-that again! Say it again!" You cried, unable to hold back your laughter.
"Say no more!"
And in the end, you were literally sprawled out on the floor, trying your best to catch a breath. After a couple of minutes you spot Diluc right above you, Diluc crouched down and eyed you.
"Time to get up now, it's not the best to stay down on the dirty floor." You groaned at his words and closed your eyes, you felt fine and it was quite relaxing anyway.
Despite your protests to stay down and relax Diluc repositioned himself and scooped you up like it was nothing in bridal style. Not that you were complaining though.
"How come redhead can carry Y/N but we don't?" Heizou whispered to Aether. "I don't know.. because you don't... try?" "True that.. wait redhead?"
Next thing you know you were resting on Diluc's thighs (a coincidence for Kaeya to be on your thighs and now you're on Diluc's..) and staring at the men (Cyno, Itto, Wriothesley.. managed to pull him in somehow, and Thoma) below you play UNO.
"Hmmm.." You softly hummed to yourself, trying to brainstorm some ideas on what to do tomorrow as it was still the weekend, maybe shopping? No, too boring. Maybe a park...?
A park seemed like a good idea, there was a lot of space and the one you were thinking of going to wasn't too crowded and barely any people went there unless to walk their dogs.
While in your thought you felt Diluc tap your shoulder. "Thinking of something?" He asked, eyes meeting yours. You sigh and turn so that your back is on his thighs. "Yeah, what do you think of going out somewhere tomorrow? Just a park, you know."
"A park, you say?" Diluc repeated as he gave it some thought, it didn't sound too bad, besides, they've been in your house for wayyyy too long.
So why not?
"Of course, I'm sure the rest would be relieved to finally go outside and play around." Diluc held a smile as his eyes waved to the men beside him and around the living room. "I hope it goes well" You mumbled.
"I'm sure it will."
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note: ?!?!!? YAY i finally finished it after a month I AM SO SORRY FOR HOLDING IT OFF FOR SO SO LONG
taglist: @tomansimp @one-offmind @miitchiji @dainsleif-when-playable @momoewn  @stygianoir @irethepotato @v4an @imetsk @fiannee @sunnyf4lls @goldenglow149 @rhwm @urlocalheizousimp @hexvx @saltylovetale-blog @backintomykpopphaseagain @toramune @oreo-ren @serenity-loves-red @flooofity @minteasketches  @amiaaaaaq @lovelive-animequeen1029 @roseapov  @yurassia @chellazhef  @fulldoves @kateybuggi @wanderingconstellations @mini-shower @160ccm @rosariashield @sickize @sarah22447 @dreamlessnight @gimmealamp @bebeluvs @caramelstarlight @sukiidreams @oceanisty @achy-boo @alhaitie @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @that-mom-friend  @v-ish  @merormerry @gojoulen03 @scarletttcroww @hadischara @kithewanderingme @keiqq @livelaughlovekuni @chirikoheina @wr1t3rfum1k0 @issacdaholi @yu-ulda @alysinbshsu @vanilla-sweets @your-local-reblogging-kazoo @be-gay-do-crime-ahaha @seipaws @clavichordcleffa @uhhiwassup @youdontneedtoknowlol @the-lazy-perfectionist @isaacdaknight @lucienbarkbark @bizzybkd
(if the usernames aren’t highlighted that’s because I can’t tag you so I’ll dm you when I post a new chapter! if i forgot to tag you im so sorry!)
liking + following + reblogs are greatly appreciated!!!
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lincolndjarin · 3 months
Text
Every Now and Then - ch. one
[ I Dream of Something Wild ]
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pairing : joel miller x f!reader, platonicsoulmate!tommy & f!reader
word count : 6.4k
summary : Joel Miller destroyed you. He loved you, then he left, leaving you in the New York City, QZ. But he's a good southern gentleman, so of course he didn't leave you without a reminder of the time you spent together. Four years later you're living in Jackson, in a lovely little ranch house. (With your reminder.) The last person you want to see is Joel Miller, unfortunately you've never been particularly lucky.
tags/warnings : 18+ mdni, angst, canon typical violence, injury, language, manipulation, joel takes advantage of readers situation, eventual smut, no use of y/n, no physical description of reader, she is picked up by joel at one point but i'm a firm believer that he's strong enough to lift any one who may find themselves in the pov of our reader, joel is possessive and controlling, dark!joel miller in a sense?? like he's not really dark now but he's going to be, multiple time lines, not canon compliant, mentions of prostitution, i sorta made up my own timeline, i probs missed tags sorry!!
a/n : i really need to fix my writing schedule so i'm hoping that having a new fic to put my energy into is going to help!! also sorry if this chapter doesn't have much going on i need to set up a lot of stuff but i promise more action in future chapters
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ao3 .𖥔 ݁ ˖ series masterlist .𖥔 ݁ ˖ main masterlist .𖥔 ݁ ˖ kofi
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He crept up on you like the shadows as the sun sets in the west. An all encompassing darkness that blotted out the sun until all that was left was night. He sunk his claws into you so deep that your eyes adjusted to the dark, and you didn’t even realize how much time had passed until you shrunk away from the inevitable sunrise that made him cower away from the dawn as if he never really was big and scary. 
And in the light of day you saw him for what he really was.
He was just a man, who was once a boy, who was scared of the dark. 
So he made himself big, and terrifying, and he grew so accustomed to the thing he once feared that the very idea of anything else made him recoil.
You feel something akin to pity when you think of him now. That doesn’t mean you forgive him, but when you can stomach it you try to, for the sake of your peace. You’d probably be happier if you could just forgive him. 
But you can’t.
So you don’t. 
It’s hard when his own blood doesn’t think he’s a good man. Tommy was afraid of him. Terrified at the very thought of his big brother. You can recall several nights where you had woken up to him screaming in the sleeping bag beside you, absolutely petrified of a memory that had inevitably snuck in through the darkness. You never feared him quite like that, but seeing the effect he has on Tommy makes your stomach churn, a painful reminder of your own suffering.    
Most of the time it’s easier to just not think of him at all, despite the reminders he’s branded into you forever. You ignore him when he tries to soak back into your very being, but at the end of the day he’s unavoidable. You see him in the dark brown eyes of others, hear him in Tommy’s southern drawl, taste him when you have the occasional sip of whiskey. He tries and tries relentlessly to worm his way back into you, but you never let him. You put up walls and you focus on other things, anything, that isn’t Joel Miller. And even though you can’t forget him entirely you manage to ignore the memory of the man you once loved for several years.  
Until one day it’s impossible to keep the thought of him away. 
Until he himself makes it impossible.
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Then - NEW YORK CITY, QUARANTINE ZONE : 2019
“Stay off of it or you’re going to lose it.”
That’s what the QZ doctor had told you. A couple weeks of bed rest was the most he could offer when you came to him with your broken ankle. 
A couple weeks without working is a death sentence. 
If you don’t work you won’t be able to afford food. And you don’t have anybody to fall back on, no family, no friends, not even an acquaintance to borrow funds from. 
Lose your leg or starve. 
As appealing as it sounds, starvation isn’t an option, too painful. 
So you have to work. The only issue with that is you’ve been blacklisted, the stupid doctor had you put on a no-shift list. You beg them to let you work, you’ll do anything, but they never budge. 
You only have enough ration cards stocked up to make it to the end of the week so you have to consider your other options. You could sell yourself. It certainly isn’t uncommon and the money’s good but it’s too dangerous, especially if you can’t run on your leg. You’ve seen too many people get hurt in that profession to risk it. You don’t have a trade. You’re terrible at sewing, you can’t cook, there isn’t a need for much of anything else and you own nothing valuable. 
So there’s only one other option for you. 
You steal. 
You dress inconspicuously, in your only pair of jeans and a plain shirt, both of which are getting rather tattered at this point but you have nothing else. With your jacket on you pull up your hood and you do the exact thing you aren’t supposed to do, and you walk. 
The conditions in the QZ are poor enough that your limp doesn’t stand out. You walk up and down the streets all day, slow and steady, with your head down and you don’t take risks. You don’t take anything big or obvious, just little things. A single ration card peeking out of a pocket, a pocket knife off a vendor's table, stale bread, set away from the good stuff where no one is looking. And you return home each night with your pockets full and your leg aching. 
By the end of your second week you’re still barely scraping by but you’re managing. What little ration cards you manage to snatch you use to buy food, but it’s still nothing compared to what you’re used to making. Your ankle feels worse by the day. 
You need more. 
You need to find a source of income that will let you rest or you’re going to lose your leg, which will leave you in an even worse position. It isn’t until you hear your neighbor slam his door that you come up with an idea. 
Your neighbor probably has more cards than he knows what to do with, and he’s always coming and going so he probably wouldn’t even notice if you skimmed a little off the top. Nothing substantial, just enough to keep you going and give your leg time to heal. 
The only problem is your neighbors reputation. 
You doubt you’d have much of a chance of surviving him if you got caught. Joel Miller was a bit of an urban legend around the QZ. Of course you only knew him as your stoic neighbor, just a guy who didn’t make a lot of noise and came home at strange hours, and sometimes disappeared for days at a time. 
But everyone else acted as if he was some kind of Boogey Man. You didn’t see him much in the streets but when you did children ran and people whispered, and while you had no knowledge of how he earned that reputation you knew it probably wasn’t pretty. 
So you’d have to be careful. 
He’s gone now, you’d heard him stopping down the hall so you decide it couldn’t hurt to take a peek, just scout out the area. 
You climb out onto the fire escape, your leg aching as you do, and you use the dull little knife you’d stolen a few days ago to shimmy open his window lock. It slides open pretty easily, he’s probably rather confident that nobody would ever mess with him so he doesn’t seem to have the usual precautions taken to protect his belongings. 
Lucky you. 
Stepping into the room you wince as you land on your bad leg, stumbling onto the floor, knocking a board loose in the process. 
“Shit.” You groan, sitting up quickly, trying to put everything back in its proper place when you catch a glimmer of something under the floor. 
A revolver. 
You shouldn’t be here. Joel Miller is a dangerous man, you knew that but you did this anyway, you can’t help but feel incredibly stupid as you stare at the weapon. You feel so stupid that you don’t even hear the click of a lock. You don’t even bother with the ration cards you can see peeking out from under the gun, you just want to leave and forget that you ever thought this was a good idea. It’s a struggle, getting back to your feet, your leg is throbbing, begging for a rest you can’t afford to take right now. With a groan you push the window open, eager for this silly idea to be over you try to figure out the best way to go about this. You’re starting to lose feeling in your leg, should you go bad leg first or try to balance on it while shimmying the rest of your body out the window? 
You never get to decide what the best course of action is because your head is slammed against the wall, your knees crumple underneath you as you hit the floor, the room spinning as your leg bends at an angle that makes you shriek. You slap your hand over your mouth but it’s far too late for that. He’s been here the whole time. It’s dark but you can still make out the foreboding shape of his figure. The broad shouldered beast that’s glaring down at you, his boot nudging your chin roughly as you bite back a shriek of fear. 
“I could report you to FEDRA for this.” The gruff voice whispers into the darkness. 
You’re desperate to avoid lockup, you know you’ll die in there, or worse. Although you’re not entirely sure what’s going to happen to you either way. 
“I- I’ll tell them about your contraband.” You point frantically at the loose floor board. “They’ll lock you up too.” His glare is unwavering as he stares down at you. You’re a little worried that he might just kill you himself, there would be no consequences, no one would be looking for you. 
No one would look for you. 
The thought makes you shudder and even though you try to stop yourself you feel your eyes beginning to water. You hear footsteps, watching his outline move across the room before you’re shrinking away from the light of a dim lamp in the corner. 
“You gotta be real dumb to find yourself in this situation.” He mutters, turning back around to stare at you. His gaze makes you want to cover yourself up, it’s like he can see every single part of you within that icy glare. You’ve never taken the time to really, truly look at him before but you do now, after all this might be your last chance to look at anything at all. 
He isn’t a terrible last sight. 
Sure, he’s ominous enough to make you want to try and run despite the ache in your calf right now, but that doesn’t make him any less handsome. In a rugged, weathered sort of way. He’s older than you thought, gray sprinkled throughout the mess of curls framing his face. What a nice face it is. Soft where it needs to be soft, sharp where it needs to be sharp. He marches back over to you, easily taking the pocket knife from your hand and crouching down in front of you.
“Give me one good reason not to finish you off right now.” He points the blade in the direction of your leg. “Seems like it’d be a mercy at this point.” 
Maybe he’s right. 
Maybe it would be a mercy to just let him put you out of your misery. Why have you been fighting so hard? You can’t seem to recall a reason other than the fact that that’s what you’re supposed to do. Your mind tells you that you’re supposed to keep fighting but you can’t think of a single driving force. You’re in pain, constantly, you live in a world that wants you dead, and you have no one relying on you. 
You don’t have a good reason, other than the fact that surviving is all you know how to do. So you look up at him and you nod. Taking in the sight of the pretty, frightening man one last time before closing your eyes. 
It feels good. You feel good, for the first time in a long time, knowing that you won’t hurt anymore. You won’t have to be afraid of someone kicking your door in, you won’t have to worry about where your next meal is going to come from, and you won’t have to worry about turning into a monster. It’s a mercy.
So you close your eyes.
Suddenly grateful for the killer before you, your guardian angel, here to deliver you the peace you didn’t know you needed. 
You wait patiently for the sting of a blade or the embrace of his hands around your throat but all you're met with is a sigh. When you finally find the courage to open your eyes he’s sitting on the edge of the bed across from you, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. 
“Just go.” He grumbles, muttering a few other words you don’t catch. 
You’re almost disappointed, having accepted this was the end, and now you’re being shoved back into the cold and unforgiving world. You start to get to your feet but your knees buckle under you. You try again, willing your leg to just work but much to your dismay you can’t even straighten out your leg anymore. When you try to move it all you find yourself only able to bend your knee a few inches.
Shit. 
You think of the fall you took on the way in and wonder if you finally pushed yourself to the limit. If you go back to the doctor will he remove the entire thing? Maybe you should just ask Joel to finish the job before it comes to that. It would be a kindness, between a quick death here or a slow death starving in your apartment you’ll take the quick way every time. Before you even have a chance to ask he’s on his feet. Maybe his patience has run out and you won’t have to ask at all. 
“Let me.” His voice rattles around in your head, so low and commanding that you put up no resistance as he lifts you up under your arms and sets you down on the edge of the bed where he just was. He flips the knife out, going to cut your jeans off of you but you stop him.
“Wait!” He freezes in place, giving you an impatient look. “These are my only jeans, just- just pull them down.” Before you can realize how embarrassing it might be to show your neighbor your faded pink panties, you're already unbuttoning your pants, lifting your hips up so he can pull them down your legs with a roll of his eyes. It’s painful, the feeling of the denim running against your skin but it’s better than not having any pants at all. 
Fuck. 
It’s been a while since you’ve actually looked at your leg. You’re surprised he was able to get your jeans off with how swollen it is, the flesh bulging around your ankle and now up your calf. The skin is shiny and blotchy with shades of purple and red. The sight of it makes you want to hurl but you manage to swallow the urge, looking away as he pokes at the tender flesh. 
“Christ girl, what the hell did you do?” When he grabs your ankle to lift your leg you yelp in pain, making him set your leg back down instinctively. 
“I just- it’s just a broken ankle.” You mumble as he gives you an incredulous look.
“Like hell it is.” Something about the sternness of his voice demands your obedience as you nod. “Wanna tell me what really happened?” 
“Well I- I fell and-” You struggle to find an excuse to justify how bad you let this get but you come up empty. So you tell the truth. “I fell off a ladder while painting over graffiti during my shift and broke my ankle. The doctor told me to stay off of it and- well, I couldn’t afford not to work so I just… didn’t” You rush through your words, staring anywhere else but into his demanding gaze as you explain yourself. 
“So you turned to stealin’.” He says it like the fact it is and you can only bring yourself to nod. “You need antibiotics.” He says just as matter of factly. “You know how much that sort of thing costs?” 
A lot. 
More than you’d have even if you were working overtime. 
He clears his throat and you finally meet his eyes. 
His eyes were so dark that day they threatened to swallow you whole. Were they always that dark? Or was it just that day, the first day, when he realized that he had you. 
“Look, I don’t do this kinda thing for just anybody. But I can help you.” He had sounded so kind, his hint of a smile had seemed so promising. 
“I can’t afford it-”
“You can use alternative methods to pay me back.” 
You told him you’d think about it. 
And he hadn’t pushed you, he had simply helped you back into your jeans and carried you back to your apartment. He told you he’d check on you tomorrow and see if you had an answer for him.
So when the next day came and you had a fever and your leg was throbbing, demanding your attention you’d been all too eager to accept his help. 
And just like that, it was your idea. 
It wasn’t his, he was blameless, you asked him to help you. And it didn’t matter who had suggested it first, it mattered who brought it up after. 
You had been certain that when he had told you you’d be using alternative methods to pay him back that his intentions were unsavory. And at that point you didn’t really care, you’d made your peace with that. The medicine you needed wasn’t cheap and you could find worse looking men who didn’t take care of themselves the way Joel did. 
But he wanted nothing of the sort. 
Southern Manners.
All he wanted was for you to take care of his apartment when he was out with his business partner, a woman who didn’t seem to dislike you but certainly didn’t care for you. He told you to take a week to just rest, take the medicine he brought you, eat the food that he fed you, and be good. So you did as he asked. And after a week you could move a bit more, you started spending your days at Joel’s tidying up and organizing while he was gone, it was much easier to stay off your leg for most of the day and he always made sure there was food and books for you while he was gone. And when he returned he would help you hobble back to your place and help you into bed without complaint and with a promise that he’d be back in the morning. 
But you still don’t relax around him.
It doesn’t make sense. Even someone who wasn’t known for their cruelty wouldn’t just take a stranger in. You’d like to believe that there’s good in people but you know better than to have that kind of faith. There isn’t enough left of the world to share the remains. Yet Joel does. He doesn’t ask to know you better and he certainly doesn’t tell you about himself yet he shows you more kindness than anyone else in your life has before. 
He must like having someone to take care of. 
That’s how you explain it to yourself. 
You watch him with Tess and it’s clear who’s in charge there, she barely even lets him stitch her up when she returns to the apartment. Joel gets frustrated every time, huffing and pacing around the room before finding some way to tend to you in her place. Icing your leg, or bringing you a new book to read, or feeding you. 
It took a few months for your leg to heal, it had been in such bad shape a part of you worried that it might never be the same as it once was. 
After the first month of your arrangement Joel told you his knees hurt and he wouldn’t be able to carry you home, you offered to just walk yourself over, your leg didn’t hurt that bad anymore and you were more than capable of walking short distances. But he insisted you stay, told you you could sleep in the bed and he’d take the couch.
But his knees hurt, you couldn’t let him do that. 
And you told him you’d take the couch and he told you he wouldn’t feel right making you sleep on the couch with your leg the way it was. 
So you told him you’d both just sleep in the bed. It wasn’t a big deal. You trusted him, of course you did, he had an opportunity to exploit you and he didn’t, if he was going to hurt you he would have done it already. 
He had acted unsure. 
You know now that it was acting. 
So you had insisted. You told him it was okay, you told him you felt safe with him. 
It was your idea. 
Even though it hadn’t been your idea to stay that night.
You had insisted he get in the bed with you. 
A fact that he would bring up often in the months to come. 
He would still help you to your apartment some nights, but just as often he’d complain about his knees and you’d stay. You got used to his warmth, you got used to waking up in his arms and not talking about it in the morning. 
So it made sense when he told you that you should keep your pajamas at his apartment. 
It made sense when he got a toothbrush for you to keep in his bathroom cabinet. 
It made sense when he told you that he couldn’t find new clothes in your size and you could just wear his. 
It made sense when he told you that he and Tess had never been a thing, so you had no reason to feel weird about sleeping in his bed. 
And it made sense when he told you that he’d hold onto the keys to your apartment, afterall you wouldn’t want to lose them. 
Joel Miller was a glue trap. And you had waded across his sticky surface without a care in the world, never realizing that it was getting harder and harder to move until you were standing still. Until the only way you were going to escape was by biting off your own leg. 
You don’t remember when you stopped returning to your own apartment completely, but you know that it happened early on, before you’d even started chewing. 
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Now - JACKSON, WYOMING : 2023
“Ruth?” You’re gonna be late if you don’t find her soon. The turntable in the corner of the kitchen plays a 3 Doors Down song as you lift the table cloth, searching for the little girl. “We don’t have time to play, we need to get you to school.” You groan, turning to face the boy currently sitting in a highchair he’s just about grown out of. “Do you know where she is?” You cross your arms in front of your chest, glaring at him as he shrugs. 
Of course he isn’t going to tell. They look out for each other before anyone else, a fact that normally fills you with joy but not when they’re ganging up against you. Thankfully you catch his eye as he shoots a glance at the pantry. Pulling the door open you’re quickly met with the sight of Ruth, giggling on the floor. You pick her up, putting her in her own highchair before setting a plate of fruits down in front of her.
“Eat. We don’t have time to play this morning, young lady.” You poke your fork in her direction as you sit down across from them.
“Eat.” She repeats in a mocking tone, her brother erupting into a fit of giggles at the impression as you sigh. They need to be at the community center in half an hour. You make the job schedules on Friday and you need as much time as possible if you want to finish them in one day. You’re having a hard time focusing on the mess your son is making as he smashes each blueberry down onto the table before popping them into his mouth as you try to schedule your own weekend. 
You need to finish all of your work today while the kids are gone so you don’t have to juggle watching them and working later, it shouldn’t be too much of an issue, scheduling should only take a few hours if you really zero in on it. You have dinner with Tommy and Maria tomorrow and you promised to bring dessert so you’ll have to take the kids to the market tonight, which also means you’re going to have to find supplies to barter with before you go. 
You have nothing planned on Sunday.
You’ll have to change that. 
You hate having nothing to do.
You’re snapped out of your thoughts as a blueberry hits you in the forehead. Both twins laugh now as you frown at them. 
“Behave or I’ll tell your aunt that you’ve been bad.” Both children look at each other nervously before returning to their breakfast. You were never stern enough with them. You loved them too much, you couldn’t ever bring yourself to yell at them, and it wasn’t like they were troublemakers by any means, they were just kids with a lot of energy in the mornings. And when they did misbehave a small threat of telling Maria was enough to make them stop whatever it was they were doing. 
You finish up your own plate and start getting ready to leave as the kids start giggling again to themselves. When their plates are empty you use a wet washcloth to clean their hands and faces before lifting each of them out of their respective seats, letting them run off a bit more energy before you head out. You set all three bags down in front of the door. Yours being the beige over the shoulder bag accompanied by two little backpacks. Ruth’s green canvas bag is covered in mud and other remnants of the yard that she’s brought in with her but Arthur’s purple backpack is kept neat and tidy. You slip into your coat before turning just in time to watch your son dive into the couch, quickly followed by his sister. 
“Come on little ducks. Time for school.” You take their jackets off the hook, holding them out to them as they rush over to you, tugging their own coats on before grabbing their bags, once you pull the door open they both rush out into the cool autumn morning, talking to each other in hushed tones. Always secrets with those two. It would probably make you a little worried if these were normal circumstances, the way they don’t let anyone in except each other, with you being the only exception. But the world is a terrifying place, it brings you peace to know that they have each other. 
A part of you is certain you wouldn’t have been able to handle just one. 
One little person relying on you, all while you’re doing your best to hold it all together? It sounds like a nightmare. It’s better that they have each other. Once you’re standing outside the community center, busy with parents dropping off their children, you kneel down. 
“Be good, if you behave today you can go to the market tonight.” The promise of the market has both of them grinning, showing off the teeth they’ve both recently had grow in. “I love you, I’ll see you in a bit.” You hold open your arms, each of them taking their respective sides as they wrap themselves around you. You take your daughter's face in your hands before pressing a kiss to her forehead, repeating the motion with your son. After a few “love you mama’s” they both run into the building, once you’re sure they’re safe inside you head off in the direction of town hall. 
You have what you would call the best job in town, despite the fact that no one else seems to want to do it. 
Maria understood when you arrived that you needed something that let you work from home if needed, you needed something that kept your mind busy but also gave you time with the kids. So you took care of the parts of Jackson most didn’t think about. 
You document all of the citizens, you make the shift schedules, and you make sure everyone has the necessities. You take care of housing, when big hauls from scavenging come in you divide them up among the people who need them. You make the meal schedules for the dining hall, and you make the crop schedules. 
You keep Jackson moving. 
When you arrived all of this was Maria’s job along with her other duties, when you told her you wanted something engaging and demanding she was more than willing to pass off those duties to you. So now you’ve got to make the schedule. Town hall is nothing more than a house with several desks for people doing work similar to yours but thankfully you’ve been lucky enough to reserve your own office in one of the bedrooms. 
Most Friday's Maria visits you for lunch but you know she’s on patrol currently, another perk of this job is knowing where everyone is, all the time.
No surprises. 
You hate surprises. (With a few exceptions.)
One of the exceptions is waiting for you in your office, Tommy sits with his legs up on your desk, reading over this past week's schedule. 
“You put me on crop harvest way more than anyone else.” He grumbles, tossing your notebook down.
“It’s the end of the season, everyones on crop harvest.” You lean down, kissing his cheek before taking your place across from him, immediately getting to work as he groans. 
“Maria gets to go on patrol.” 
“Council gets first dibs on patrols during harvest season.” The tip of your favorite pen is dry so you quickly bring it to your mouth, wetting it with your tongue before you start writing out jobs for this upcoming week. The second he sees how many farming related jobs you’re listing he leans back in his chair, groaning and running his fingers through his dark curls. 
Today’s his day off. You always gave anyone doing more manual labor three days off instead of two. 
“I can get you on one patrol shift but they’re going to need your help with the corn.” You write his name in with the Monday and Tuesday patrol squad, filling in the rest of his week with harvest as he grins. 
“Thank you, darlin’.” He drawls. You hate that nickname, you hate that he isn’t the first to give it to you but you never complain, you’d let Tommy get away with murder at this point. It’s the least you can do considering everything he’s given you. 
“Yeah yeah, whatever. You’re only getting a two-day weekend next week.” You mumble, searching through the list of citizens, trying to pick out the people you know won’t mind the hard work. 
“Fine by me.” You have a complicated relationship with that smile of his. You can love it all you want but that doesn’t change the fact that it makes you uneasy, it doesn’t help that you’re starting to see that same smile in your son. 
“I was thinking about berry cobbler for tomorrow night.” Molly twisted her ankle last week, make sure she isn’t standing. You put her down for shucking corn, she can sit in the dining hall and work. 
“We have a bunch of extra sweet potatoes if you want to make sweet potato pie.” He takes your crop ledger, flipping through it, clearly not reading a thing. 
“Ruth hates sweet potatoes.” Marcus insists he’s capable of doing manual labor, his pride won’t let him act his age. You put him down for pushing the wheelbarrows, he won’t have to bend down to pick anything up but hopefully he’ll still feel like he’s doing enough. You’ve told him countless times that at his age he shouldn’t be working so hard but he always insists. 
“Shit, forgot about that. Maria might have some apples.” 
“I’ll stop by tonight before I take the kids to the market.” 
You’re thankful for Tommy.
He keeps your mind busy with conversation while you work, and he’s one of the only people you actually trust. By the time you’re almost done you know you need to go get the kids, with a conflicted glance at the clock you start to gather your things but Tommy beats you to it.
“I’ll go get them, Maria should be home from patrol soon, she’ll want to see them.” He’s already putting his coat on so you stay seated. 
“Are you sure?” You already know there’s no reason to argue, he’s stubborn, just like his brother. 
“It’s the least I can do to make up for bothering you all day.” He steps around the desk to give you a peck on the cheek before going to leave. “Just come by the house when you’re done, no rush.” And just like that he’s gone. 
You make quick work of your remaining duties. Finishing everything within a half an hour before heading out in the direction of the Miller’s farm house on the edge of town. It’s only a few houses away from your ranch house, a fact that you couldn’t be more grateful for, if it weren’t for Tommy and Maria you aren’t sure you’d have been able to handle those first few months of parenthood. Most people in town assumed Tommy must be the father purely based on how much effort he put into taking care of not only them, but you as well. As you make your way up their porch steps and into the living room you’re also reminded of the similarities. You can’t blame people for making assumptions, even Maria thought he was the father. The twins have his eyes, (which by association means that they also have his eyes, but you try not to dwell on that.) Ruth has your nose but Arthur has that Miller curve already starting to show on his little nose. Both little ones are sitting in the big recliner with their uncle as he tries to get them to settle down while he reads to them but the second they see you, both are scrambling out of the chair to hug your legs. 
And everything goes exactly how it’s supposed to. 
(Of course it does, you plan every day down to the minute.) 
You give Tommy the list of things you need along with a few things he can trade them for and he takes the kids down the street to the market as you sit at the kitchen counter, talking to Maria about her patrol. You had all planned to go to the market together but she’d insisted she was tired and you didn’t want her to be here alone so you stayed, helping her cook dinner. And you talked about all the things you knew you would, something cute the kids did, how her patrol went, what things you could put on the dining hall menu in the coming weeks. 
It’s all exactly how it should be. 
Until she frowns. 
“Are you busy Sunday?” You had sensed something was wrong with her but you assumed maybe she was just a little rattled coming off of a three day patrol. 
“No, did you need something?” You continue to chop up the sweet potatoes she now planned to use tonight instead of tomorrow. 
“We found a couple of strays, I thought maybe we could get them settled in.” 
Odd. 
Normally finding survivors would be the first thing she mentioned after returning, even stranger is the fact that she’d often waste no time getting them supplies and a home to make their own. But you're not one to question Maria’s judgment.
“Sure, we can do that Sunday morning.” You want to ask questions about it but she’s already changed the subject to doing a clothing drive at the community center so you don’t press. Despite the way the look on her face is bothering you.
It wasn’t fear, or discomfort, or something you could explain away with the excuse of the strays being off putting or violent. 
It’s a look of pity. 
As if she feels bad for even asking. 
It unsettles you enough to leave it be. Making idle chit chat with her until Tommy returns with the twins and you take them home. It unsettles you as you make your own dinner, as you give the twins a bath, and as you help them into their pajamas and read them a story. It never leaves your mind. 
“Goodnight Ruthie.” You lean down to kiss her forehead, watching her eyes flutter shut as she continues to fight sleep. Always the stubborn one. 
“Night Mama.” You take the stuffed bear from the foot of her bed, tucking it in beside her before quietly standing, walking across the room to your son's bed. 
“Goodnight Arthur.” You lean down, kissing both of his rosy cheeks, he doesn’t fight sleep the way his sister does. So similar but so different. 
“Goodnight Mama.” His little voice has the same southern drawl you know he’s been picking up from Tommy. 
“I love you, little ducks.” You smile at him, turning to see that Ruth is already asleep, you tuck in the blankets around Arthur before leaving, keeping the door cracked open a bit so the light from the kitchen can act as a night light. 
God, you're tired. 
You’re quick to shower and slip into your own pajamas, crawling into bed with a yawn. You take the book from your nightstand, flipping through until you find where you left off yesterday. 
You never really know what’s going on in the books you read, they serve a singular purpose and it isn’t entertainment. 
You read until you fall asleep, they’re just a distraction to keep your mind busy with thoughts so he can’t sneak in right before you fall asleep and embed himself in your dreams. 
It works.
Your dreams never feature him. 
They aren’t good dreams by any means, they’re wild. Often of your journey to Jackson, the fear you felt then. But you’ll take that over Joel any day. Tonight isn’t any different, your sleep is restless as you fight the memories of fighting for survival in those woods, but instead of your usual nightmares of infected hunting you through the trees you’re faced with a sight that somehow makes you even more uneasy than the living dead.
The look on Maria’s face when she told you about the two strays. 
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support me on kofi!!
a/n : this fic has been bouncing around in my brain for months now and it feels so fucking good to finally start it omfg. sorry if this felt a little slow, i really needed to set a tone and a base for the story, sorry!!
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luveline · 9 months
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I love your writing sm!!! would you be willing to do something with Spencer where he calms reader down from a nightmare ? thank u so much!!! have a good day ❤️
thank you sm! ♡ gn!reader
cw drug use mentioned
In the dream, Spencer lives. 
Surprisingly. So many of your dreams are made of his demise. In one dream he gets killed in a cemetery, crying and alone and strapped to a chair. In another, a needle stays stuck to the crook of his arms as he slips into a too-heavy sleep. Sometimes he dies bleeding out from his leg, other times he makes it to the hospital long enough to feel the building crumble beneath him. 
You wouldn't want Spencer to stop telling you things, but every ragged chapter of his life acts as nightmare fuel. Every sentence, every line. Here he's lonely. Here he's afraid. 
Here, despite everything, he's alive, because this is the dream where you die first. 
You die like the snap of a firecracker hitting the ground and find yourself inverted, flinching up where gunpowder spilled down, your hand knocking into the soft of Spencer's stomach as you gasp for air. You're dead. You're dead, and Spencer's alone, and no one is going to look after him now. 
"Y/N?" His voice. The plastic and wood scrape as he grabs his glasses and shoves them on. "What? What's hurting?" 
You put your hand over your heart and will it to stop pounding so hard. It aches like a new bruise. 
"Baby," Spencer says softly, curling his arm behind the small of your back. He pulls your bodies together, tucking the sheets up your legs again with the other. 
"Bad dream," you say, wishing you'd woken crying. At least then you'd know what the emotion is under all your abject panic. 
"Just breathe… just breathe." He takes a slow, deliberate breath for you to follow. When he speaks, it's calm as the summer sea. "Another one. I'm sorry, you've had a lot of these lately, huh?" Spencer brings the hand furthest from you to your cheek, encouraging your cheek against his chin. "You want to tell me about it?" 
"I died." 
It must surprise him. For once, he doesn't have anything to say immediately. He turns his face in to kiss you, not fussy about where his lips fall. A slow, steadying kiss. 
"Those ones are some of the hardest," he says sympathetically. 
"I didn't… it didn't even matter. I hit my head and I woke up. But I…" How to explain it? "Spence, there was this split second where I thought I left you alone." 
"Don't worry about me," he says.
"But I do worry about you. I know you can look after yourself better, but– but people have let you down. I've let you down." 
Spencer's smile is audible, a lilt to the dulcet murmur he presses into your hair, "You're the last person I'd say let me down... You know, nightmares aren't scientifically quantifiable, there's no statistical data on what it means to have a bad dream, but. There are hundreds of thousands of books about it, and more than you'd think tend to agree that after you've had one, the fear remains. Like a bad cell. You can't remember it and it sticks around despite it." 
You wait for the silver lining. 
"So?" you ask. 
He chuckles quietly. "So, I know it sucks, but it's a good thing that you remembered it. Want me to tell you what the books say?" 
"About what it means?" you ask. 
"They say it's transitional. You're saying goodbye to something. Starting a new chapter." 
Spencer turns your face, his thumb stroking your cheek. Dead morning light floods the room like a splash of milk into tea, illuminating the small apples of his cheeks, the thick triangles of his lashes behind his glasses' lenses. He looks woefully handsome considering the hour, and, to your relief, he's completely unafraid. 
"Just don't say goodbye to me, okay?" he whispers.
You nod, fatigue pressing on your shoulders. 
Spencer gives you a quick, dotting kiss. "Thank you. Let's go back to sleep, yeah? Lay down." 
You curl up under his arm. His hand takes loop on your shoulder, drawing lazy, meandering circles until you're falling into a much quieter crop of sleep. 
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muffinpink02 · 25 days
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Perhaps some lucy inspo:
Lucy x (reader or ona) are on a spa trip, they haven’t done anything sexual in a couple of days for x reason, so now they can’t keep their hands off each other
extra inspo for if you write jealousy fics:
But there is someone (a worker or fellow visitor) who also cannot keep their hands off lucy (or ona) and eventually the mixture of jealousy, good looking gf, no sexual activities became to much and I think we can all imagine what happened either at the hotel (or at home)😌
just some inspo, you don’t have to use this storyline and can also rewrite it however, perhaps private jacuzzi on vacay instead of spa day etc etc
also cannot wait for the next chapters of the fics you’re currently writing. Massive fan of your work!!
The Big O
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Thank you to the beautiful anon for this idea. Here you go. Its very quick and rushed, sorry.
Warning - Smut - angry sex
“I can’t wait for this. We needed a break.” Ona smiled over at Lucy as she opened the balcony doors of the hotel room. The taller girl lugged their shared suitcase into the room. Smiling at her girlfriend's excitement.
It had been a while since the couple had a break together, the last real holiday they had was after the World Cup. Yeah, they had breaks in between but they hadn’t been on a summer holiday. They had both been so busy with their own schedules, not to mention the champions league. They became passing ships in the night, hardly really spending time together. That also meant that they hadn’t been able to be intimate with each other in a while. 3 weeks to be exact. 
So, yeah, they needed this. They made a promise to shut off their phones, no emails, no calls, nothing that could distract them. 
“Yeah. I just can’t wait to see you in that bikini you brought.” The older brunette smiled playfully at Ona. 
“Oh, what one?” Ona smiled innocently.
The older brunette stepped into Onas space, smiling down at the doe-eyed girl. “The one that shows off your arse perfectly.”
Ona bit her lip. Something she knew that drove Lucy crazy. The pair had been flirting the whole way here, both wanting each other desperately. Lucy was finding it hard to keep her hands to herself on the flight, her fingers had found themselves between Ona’s legs, teasingly stroking Ona’s bare thighs the whole plain journey. The younger girl didn’t mind at first but when Lucy's fingers got higher and higher to her core she couldn't stop the heat burning between her legs. She was close to dragging Lucy into the plains toilet just to get some kind of release. 
“I love it when you look at me like that.” Lucy purred. She put her finger under Ona’s chin, making the girl look up at her. 
“Like what?” Ona whispered. She knew what she was doing. 
A lot of people would mistake Ona’s innocent look for being the softer one in the bedroom, the more submissive one. And yeah, she definitely was but she could also be very dominating when she wanted to be. She could play Lucy so easily, and Lucy loved it. She would fall for those beautiful brown Disney like eyes everytime, doing anything Ona would ask of her. 
“You know exactly what I'm talking about.” Lucy cupped the shorter girl's face and slowly brought her lips to her own. It was slow at first, both feeling the other girl's mouth, tasting the other's lips. Ona’s watermelon gloss tingled the tip of Lucy's tongue, making her mouth water. Lucy grabbed the back of Ona's neck, pushing her tongue into her mouth. Ona whimpered on feeling her girlfriend's smooth tongue push past her lips and into her mouth.
“Ergh, I love when you make those noises.” 
The Spaniard giggled, but it was cut off when Lucy pushed her on her back, hitting the soft mattress below her. She quickly climbed on top of the smaller girl, reattaching her lips to Ona’s own. It was quick messy kisses, the sounds of their wet lips smacking hard against the other. It was when Lucy started to roll her hips into Ona’s core that the Spaniard started to moan.
“Lu-,” 
Ona was cut off from Lucy sucking on her neck.
Ona could feel her underwear becoming wetter, she wanted Lucy so badly. Her next words were going to be difficult.
“Lucy, we have to st- aaa.”
Lucy quickly slipped her hand into Ona’s shorts, touching her clothed sex.
“So wet already.” Lucy hummed cockily.
Ona gritted her teeth. It had been too long since she felt Lucy between her legs. So long since she felt those talented fingers inside her. She wanted nothing more then for Lucy to fuck her right here, right now, but she had to stop her.
“Lucy, w-we have to s-stop.”
Lucy stopped, looking down at her girlfriend, who was now panting hard. Her lips swollen from Lucy's relentless sucking.
“Stop? Why?” Her confused horny face made Ona’s pussy clench.
“I booked us a spa treatment. We have to be there in 10 minutes.” 
“Are you saying I can’t have you screaming my name in 2 minutes? Because I take that as a challenge.” Lucy smirked down at Ona, capturing her lips once more.
Ona let herself get lost in Lucy's kisses once more. It was when Lucy started to push Ona’s t-shirt up, her short nails scratching against her tight skin, bringing Ona back into the presence.
“We can’t. Come. I’ll make it up to you later.” Ona gave a quick kiss to Lucy's lips before pushing her off. 
Lucy let out a sigh and smiled. “You will definitely make it up to me.” She slapped Ona’s arse playfully, making the younger girl yelp.
Never one to be outdone, Ona stepped in front of Lucy, giving her best doe eye impression. “I’ll let you do whatever you want to me.” 
The northerner's jaw clenched, her eyes closed as she let out a frustrated sigh.
“You better get us to the spa before I throw you on that bed.” 
Ona giggled, she loved to rile up Lucy, she had found in the past that it would always make the sex just a little more fiery, more passionate, a lot more dirty.
The girls quickly got ready for the appointment. They changed into their bikinis and headed to the spa. They checked in and waited in the seating area for their masseuse. Lucy leaned into Ona. “I definitely would have had you screaming my name in that time.” 
Ona chuckled. ��Stop. Try and calm down, you’re going to have someone touching you, I don’t want you all worked up for them.” 
Lucy ignored that, and continued.
“I just hope you know that I brought the big one, the one that you beg me to go slow with.”
Ona felt the chills go up her back from Lucy's words. She felt her cunt tighten, thinking about that exact strap Lucy was referring to. 
“Fuck, Lucy.” Ona whispeared.
Before Ona could respond, with a full sentence, not that she really could have, her mind had turned to mush, two women came into the waiting room.
“Hi, I’m Sarah, I’m here for Lucy.” A blonde woman smiled at the pair. 
“That's me.” Lucy smiled.
“And you must be Ona. I’m Sam.” The tall brunette masseuse smiled at the younger girl. 
Lucy didn’t miss the way the masseuse eyed up Ona. 
“That's me.” Ona smiled.
“Perfect.” Sam's grin was devilish. Lucy didn’t like it one bit.
The women sat next to each of the girls, talking about the session and what it would involve. Even though Lucy was trying to listen, her eyes kept wandering over to Ona and the tall brunette. They were speaking Catalan. The women had heard Ona’s accent and of course she happened to also be Catalonian too. So even though Lucy knew a lot of Spanish, she wasn't able to pick up the conversation. Especially at the rate they were speaking. Whatever they were talking about must have been funny because Ona was constantly laughing at the pretty brunette. And for some particular reason Sam had to constantly keep touching Ona’s bare thigh. 
“So does that sound good, Lucy?” Sarah asked.
Lucy was pulled out of her stare off, with the back of Sam's head. “Hmm? Oh yeah, that's great.” She nodded. 
“Great. I’m just going to grab some bits and we’ll head over.” 
Lucy nodded and smiled, she wasn't even sure what treatment she had agreed on.
“Grcias Sam.” Ona smiled. Sam walked out of the room, possibly doing the same thing Sarah was doing. Ona looked over at Lucy, who looked a bit flustered. 
“Hey, what are you getting?” Ona asked.
“Oh erm, the Swedish rock salt, tissue massage.” Lucy was sure that's what Sarah said. “You?”
“Sam suggested I get a full body deep tissue massage. She said it's the best type for what we do.”
“Hmm, so she knows who you are?” 
“Yeah, she's actually not far from my town.”
“Hmm, small world.” Lucy smiled, but it was her weird smile. Ona knew that smile.
The women came back, holding white robes. They followed each woman to their own rooms. The pair smiled as they separated. Lucy noticing once more how Sam’s eyes roamed over Ona. Even though this was meant to be a relaxing moment, Lucy was far from relaxed. She couldn't stop thinking about Ona in the other room, being touched by the other woman. 
“Okay, so you’re very tight on your shoulders, I’m going to work on that for a bit. Just try to relax, you feel very tense.” Sarah said.
Lucy hummed. Even though Sarah had no clue about why Lucy was currently very tense right now, she knew she was right, she needed to relax. She tried. Though she couldn't stop the thoughts of Sam’s hands going an inch too high up Ona’s towel, or an inch too low down her back. Or if she made Ona moan from her touches, what if she made those cute sexy noises that only Lucy pulled from her. Lucy may have regretted teasing Ona before the session.
The 45 minutes had passed. Lucy got dressed and thanked Sarah, though the girl was only more tense. Lucy waited in the waiting room for Ona, even though they both had a 45 minute treatment, Lucy waited another 15 minutes before she saw Ona. The girl had a giant dopey smile on her face. Her cheeks had a pink flush to it. Her hair had been in her neat classic bun before she went in the room with Sam, but now it was down and messy. The girl literally looked like she had just been fucked. And Lucy would know, she had made her look like that plenty of times.
“How was it?” Ona asked, her voice sounded rough.
“Good, you?” 
“Soooo good, I don’t think I’ve ever had it like that before. She knew what she was doing.” Ona smiled.
“Hmm, good, good. Why so long?” 
“Ohh, it was her last session, she gave me head,- a head massage.” Ona started to bun her hair back up.
Lucy raised her brows at Ona’s words. “Ohhh, nice of her.” 
Ona nodded, not noticing Lucy's clear annoyance, or if she did she was ignoring it. 
“Yeah. I’m hungry. Shall we grab something to eat? 
“Sure.” 
The girls grabbed lunch in the hotel. Lucy had calmed down after Ona snaked her hand in hers, mindlessly stroking her knuckles, something that Lucy loved. She knew she was just being jealous, not having sex for so long probably made it worse. Her body was ready to combust and the quick make out session they had in the hotel room before really didn't help.
They sat at the hotel's beach, soaking in the sun, finally relaxing. She looked over at Ona laying on her front, her beautiful arse cheeks swallowing the bikini. Lucy had to lick her lips, making sure she wasn't actually dribbling.
“Do you want a drink? I’ll go to the bar.”
Ona smiled, pushing her glasses down. “Can I get a strawberry daiquiri, please?” 
Lucy kissed Ona deeply, holding the back of her head. “Of course you can.” 
Lucy made her way to the bar, she ordered the drinks then noticed the TV. The bar was playing the football, it was Chelsea vs Man City, a game she was hoping to watch. She took a seat at the bar, waiting for the cocktail to be made, but also wanting to get comfy as she watched on. 
Lucy had a few favourite things in this world, and watching football was one of them. Fucking Ona until she couldnt feel her legs no more was another. Playing football was another. Ona probably couldn't tell you in what order that went from top to bottom. 
It had been 10 minutes Ona looked towards the bar, wondering where her girlfriend was, she wasn't worried, they were still at the hotel. She knew when Lucy was in a good mood the girl could make friends with anyone, so she imagined she was maybe talking to a fan or something. Another 10 minutes and still nothing, that’s when Ona heard that very familiar roar of a bar that she realised why Lucy had not returned. Of course. 
“How's your head?” Ona looked up to see Sam the masseuse. With the way Sam was smiling at Ona, she couldn’t help but think Sam was trying to have a double meaning with that question. 
“A lot better thank you. I definitely feel more relaxed.” Ona smiled.
“Good, I’m glad to hear it, I've been told by many girls that my hands have relieved a lot of tension. My fingers know just where to hit those spots.” Sam’s smile was dangerous. 
She was coming on strong. Ona would normally politely turn down a girl who was flirting with her. But, Ona was annoyed with Lucy right now. They were meant to be on holiday, relaxing together, no phones, no screens, no interruptions. Ona also wouldn't have minded if she had watched it for 5 minutes and came back. But she had been gone for 30 minutes, Lucy had clearly got lost in the game.  
That's when Ona decided to make things interesting. She carried on speaking to Sam. She knew half time would have to be any minute now. And just like clock work, she did, just in perfect timing, she could see Lucy getting up from the bar. Putting her plan in motion. 
“Sam. Could you get my back, please. I can feel it getting red.” 
Sam couldn't have moved quick enough. She took the bottle of sun cream from Ona’s hand and began to rub her back. Ona even undid her bikini straps at her neck, making a show of it. And that show had finally caught the attention of green eyes. Lucy's green eyes. 
Ona closed her eyes and stretched her neck as Sam pressed her fingers deeply into her muscles. She could hear Lucy was close. So she moaned. She didn’t even have to put it on too much, as Sam did genuinely have magic fingers. Ona let out another groan, but this time it turned into a small whimper. 
Lucy wasn't a violent person, but she wanted nothing more than to rugby tackle Sam to the floor. She watched as her fingers slowly rubbed against Ona’s skin, she even made Ona arch as she hit spots that not even Lucy could hit, because she didn’t know what muscle even did that. As she got closer she even heard Ona moan, then she heard her whimper. That was the whimper that only Lucy made her do. Now here she was watching her girlfriend moan for another woman right in front of her.
“I didn’t realise the hotel offered massages outside the spa.” Lucy almost growled. 
“Oh, hey babe, Sam was passing by so I asked her to top up my cream.” Ona smiled.
Lucy knew that smile, she knew what Ona was doing. She continued.
“You were gone for a while. Did you get my drink?” Ona asked.
“Oh, yeah sorry. They’re playing the game, I just wanted to catch the last bit of it.” Lucy looked guilty. 
“Hmm. I see.” Ona nodded. 
“Here's your drink.” Lucy passed over Ona a warm, cocktail, even as she passed it she realised how stupid this looked. 
Sam decided to involve herself in the conversation. “Aye, that drink is no good. I can make a better cocktail than this. Give me 5 minutes, I’ll be right back.” 
Ona smiled widely up at Sam. “Oh thank you. You don’t have to do that.” 
Sam laughed, responding in their mother tongue, making Ona giggle.
Lucy had to hold her fists by her side. Her anger for Sam growing all the more. She sat down in her deck chair. Looking at the younger girl. “Sorry Ona. I was gone for too long. 
“You were.” She only confirmed. 
“I’m sorry. I know we said no screens, I just got carried away.” She grabbed Ona’s hand kissing the back of it, making Ona smile at her. 
“It's okay. You can make it up to me.” She smirked, not looking at Lucy.
Lucy was relieved to see Ona wasn't actually angry. She moved in close to her girlfriend, kissing her neck, she could taste the salt from her sweat, she sucked on her skin, relishing in the way Ona gasped. 
“I’d do anything to make you smile.”
Just like Sam promised she was back in 5 minutes, much to Lucy's dismay.. 
“Here you go, this my own personal cocktail. I call it ‘The big O.”  She winked.
Even though Sam was rude enough to flirt openly with Ona, she had also made a cocktail for Lucy. Ona sat up taking the glass from Sam.
“Ohh it looks amazing. Thank you Sam.” Ona smiled. She wrapped her lips around the pink straw and hummed. “Wow, that's really good. Try it Luce.” 
Lucy rolled her eyes behind her sunglasses. She imagined Ona was just being polite, she took her own sip. Wow, yeah, no, that was good. It was maybe the best cocktail she had ever had. But Sam didn't need to know that.
“Bit sweet for me. Thank you though.” 
Sam smiled. “That's okay, everyone has a type, no? Anyways, enjoy the sun. Intenta no cremar, nena bonica.” She winked at Ona as she walked off.
Lucy was seething, she might not be an expert at the language but she knew enough to know she had just called Ona. 
“I don’t like her.” Lucy grunted.
Ona chuckled, she loved Lucy like this. “Oh stop. She's just doing her job.” 
Lucy folded her arms like a sulking toddler. Ona could only smile at her girlfriends cute, jealous antics as she drank the delicious cocktails.
The evening arrived, the girls rushed up to their rooms to get ready for another reservation Ona had made, it was only for dinner but it was a balcony view that you had to book in advance. If Ona knew how worked up the pair was going to be she would have just ordered room service. Lucy of course couldn't keep her hands off of the younger girl as she came out of the shower, slapping Ona’s arse cheeks as she walked past her. 
They arrived for their dinner reservation, and Ona was grateful she had the willpower to stop Lucy’s hand creeping into her underwear just before they left the hotel room. The view was breathtaking, it overlooked the sea and the other islands. The sun was halfway to setting, making the sky a beautiful pink and orange colour. The girls had their dinner, happy to be in one another's company. They had needed this, just them, nothing in their way. Even though they both had wanted to tear each other's clothes off every waking minute, this was something they needed. Catching up with certain bits of their lives that they hadn't been able to in a while. 
The girls finished their dinner and headed to the beach. The hotel had an event each night for the guests. Tonight was salsa dancing. Lucy and Ona sat at a table waiting for the entertainment. A pretty waitress came over to take their order.
“Hey, what can I get for you?” She looked at Lucy, a shy smile on her face.
“Hi, can I please get a beer. Ona?” Lucy looked over.
“A strawberry daiquiri please.” 
The waitress smiled at Lucy. “No, problem.” She walked off to get their drinks.
“Someones a fan.” Ona rolled her eyes.
“She’s just being friendly.” Lucy chuckled.
The girl returned with their orders. “Here you go Miss Bronze.” 
Lucy didn't stop the grin on her face. “Thank you.” 
“And your martini.” She handed Ona the drink.
“Oh erm, I didn't order this.” 
“No? Oh, I’m sorry. I must have gotten a bit flustered, I’m a really big fan.” She eyed Lucy up with absolutely no shame. “What was it you ordered?” 
Ona stared at the waitress. Her normally soft eyes turned angry.
“A strawberry daiquiri.” 
“That’s right, sorry. I'll grab that for you now.”
“Thank you. Don’t stress, we all make mistakes.” Lucy smiled. 
The waitress put her hand on Lucy's naked muscle. “Thank you.”
Ona rolled her eyes, seething in her seat. Out of the two Ona was definitely the more jealous one. 
This time it wasnt the waitress that came over, it was Sam, again. Did she not take a break?
“Hola, I saw the mix up. Sorry about that, I took the liberty of making my ‘Big O’ you look like you need it.”
“Sam! Thank you! I wanted to ask if they served it but you mentioned it was your own cocktail.” She sucked on her straw.
Lucy cleared her throat. “Do you work on every section or?”
Ona nudged Lucy under the table.
Sam chuckled. “I do work a lot of the hotel, si. I’m actually working in the entertainment tonight.”
“Of course you are.” Lucy muttered under her breath, Sam nor Ona heard her.
“So, Ona did you want to take up my offer for the message session?”
“What's this?” Lucy asked.
“Sam said I needed more work done to my upper thighs and lower back. She said I had a lot of tension there.”
“Si, I offered for her to have another treatment. Her body needs some extra attention in those areas. She's very tight. I could release her from that tension.” Sam smiled at Ona.
“I’ll definitely let you know. We have a few days planned.” Ona smiled, sipping on Sam's cocktail.
“Please do, it would be my pleasure.” Sam smirked as she walked away. 
Lucy could see the newspapers already. ‘Bronze turned boxer.’ or ‘Lucy Ali’ 
“She couldn't be any more obvious if she tried.” Lucy sneered.
Ona grabbed her hand, and kissed her knuckles. “It doesn't matter. It's you who I want. It's you who will be fucking me later. It's you who I love.”
Lucy couldn't hold back the shiver that kissed her skin. She leaned into Ona’s face, kissing the girl with a passion Ona hadn't felt in a while. Just as they pulled apart the lights dimmed, and the stage lit up. Music boomed in from the speakers, salsa dancers came onto the stage. 
The entertainment was amazing, the girls were enjoying themselves. The first show finished and the audience clapped for the dancers. 
It wasn't until a familiar face came on stage that Lucy felt her shoulders drop. Sam came on stage in traditional salsa wear. It was a very different sight for the uniform she wore before. She had a beautiful body, her curves sat in the black dress perfectly. The music began, her and the male partner danced the tango, it was undeniably one of the sexiest dancers two people could do. 
The dance came to an end, the crowd clapped loudly for Sam and her partner. They bowed and the male dancer walked off stage. 
“Thank you, now it is your turn. I need a partner. I'm going to pick two volunteers, and I don’t take no for an answer.” Sam’s eyes landed on the shorter brunette.
Lucy's stomach dropped.
Sam stepped down off the stage, she pointed at one man who stood up quickly, making his way on the stage. She didn't have to walk very far as she put her hand out for Ona to take.
Lucy could tell Ona wasn't sure what to do, her big brown doe eyes looked almost worried. Lucy didn't want that. Yes, she could be jealous and possessive but she wouldn't actually want Ona to feel like she couldn't do something because of her jealousy. That’s not how she wanted this relationship. 
Ona stared at her, needing some kind of confirmation, she wouldn’t do it if Lucy would genuinely be hurt. She saw the small smile and nod that Lucy gave her, giving her the green light. She took Sam’s hand, allowing her to be led to the stage. 
“Can I please have a round of applause for my volunteers. Please tell us your names.” 
“I’m Craig.” The guy smiled.
“I’m Ona.” 
Lucy did the loudest wolf whistle she could muster, causing Ona to giggle. 
“Okay, the challenge is to dance. Whoever can keep up with me wins. If you forget or falter you are out. The winner wins a bottle of champagne.” Sam said. 
Now, it doesn’t matter what the prize is. Ona and Lucy will want to win everytime, even if the prize is just to gloat. So, yeah, Lucy was going to cheer Ona on. Even if Sam was very obvious and wanted her girl. They needed to win. 
Sam went through some steps with the pair. Very basic at first, just a one, two step, dip kind of thing. Ona and Craig stayed on count. Lucy couldn’t help but watch as Ona’s hips made an easy step look so sexy. Sam gave them more steps, getting more technical and faster, the audience cheered as they kept up with her. 
“Well done, now we put it to the test. You will dance the steps. I will jump in with you, whoever can keep with me the longest, wins.” 
It would be impossible for either of them to keep up with her, she was a professional dancer, but that was probably the point. Sam pointed to the guy to go first. The music started and he began to dance, he kept up with the basic steps. The crowd cheered him on, he wasn't too bad. Sam then stepped closer taking his hands to dance with him. As soon as she made it faster he messed up. 
The audience clapped for his efforts. Sam strode up to Ona. The music started to play again and Ona did the steps. Lucy knew Ona could dance, she always looked so easy and free when she did, her body could move like a snake. So, she looked very natural with these steps. Sam then took Onas hands and began to dance with her, Lucy noticed Sam's hand placements straight away, one on her hip verging on her arse, the other clasped with her hand.
She made the steps quicker but Ona kept up easily, Sam pushed herself closer to the shorter girl, looking down at her. The girl was taller than Lucy, so Ona looked even tinier next to her. 
Sam smirked down at Ona, realising she could actually dance. She began to twirl Ona’s smaller body, bringing her back into her chest, faces inches from her own. If Lucy didn't hate Sam she would have thought it was actually quite sexy. Ona and Sam were wearing very samilair dresses, making the dance even more in sync. Sam spun Ona again and dipped her backwards. Ona must have hid this talent from Lucy because she was keeping up with Sam no problem, she looked like a professional dancer. Her face was as focused as it was on a football pitch. 
Sam brought her to her body again, Ona’s thigh slipped between Sams as they danced closely, Sam's hands slipped into Ona’s hair and made a circular motion. Ona’s eyes closed as she was moved around easily. Okay, yeah, Lucy was horny, and jealous?
Sam twirled the petite girl once more and brought Ona’s back to her chest. She brought her face close to Ona’s neck, her lips barely just touching Ona’s skin, then twirled her again. She began to slowly dip Ona backwards, her hand gliding up the girl's thigh, revealing her muscular leg. She pushed her thigh high, against her own body, it looked so sexual, it almost felt like you were interrupting something. Her face came close to Ona’s lips then, down her neck, then down her chest. 
Lucy was feeling many different feelings right now, and horny was the biggest one, but she was also so proud of Ona. She didn’t know the girl could dance like that. The music ended and Sam slowly brought Ona back up to her feet, both smiling and out of breath. 
The hotel guest jumped to their feet and cheered, including Lucy. Ona looked straight at her girlfriend, happy to see her smiling. 
Sam lifted Ona’s hand and bowled, she then took a step back to let Ona have the moment. Lucy looked at her girlfriend, she was slightly out of breath, her face was flushed, her once neat hair tousled. Lucy needed her. 
Sam whispered something in Ona’s ear but that girl was paying her no attention, she could feel the way Lucy was looking at her. In this very moment it was just her and Lucy, her green eyes were undressing her body. 
Sam brought over the cold champagne. “Ona, everybody!” The crowd clapped once more. Ona thanked Sam while taking her prize. She made quick steps towards Lucy. 
“Room. Now” 
That's all Ona needed to say and Lucy was up.
Ona gasped as her back hit the wall of their hotel room. Lucy’s mouth was all over her neck. Her tongue sucked, and licked at her bare skin. She was leaving marks. Ona could tell. She couldn't stop her even if she wanted to. Lucy was lost in a haze, biting and sucking her skin in between her lips. She wanted to mark the girl. Make a point that she was hers. No one else's. 
“Fuck, Luce.” Ona struggled to see straight. 
“You liked it didn't you? All day. Making me jealous? Hmm?” Lucy asked. 
Ona smirked. “Sí, I did.” 
Lucy hummed. “I guess I’ll have to remind you who you belong to.” She gave Ona a particularly sharp bite to the neck. Making the girl cry out. 
She grabbed the shorter brunette by the waist, her lips attached to hers. She kissed Ona deeply, almost roughly. She cradled the back of her head as she moved them to the foot of the bed. Ona moaned at the sheer strength of Lucy's tongue, pushing its way into her mouth, taking full control of the kiss. She pulled back.
“Strip. Get on the bed.” Lucy commanded. 
Ona nodded, striping herself of her clothes. 
The older brunette made her way to their suitcase, looking for her strap. Lucy removed her clothes, leaving her completely naked. She pulled the harness up her strong thighs, adjusting the thick strap between her legs. She heard a small gasp behind her. She turned around to see Ona on her back, her head on the pillows with her hand between her legs. Lucy smirked, she loved watching Ona pleasure herself, she would watch her all day if she could, but she would always end up replacing Ona’s hand with her own, or her mouth. 
She slowly walked over to the bed, Ona’s fingers were glistening with her juices, her eyes closed tightly as she circled her sensitive clit. Lucy watched as her girlfriend started to lose herself in her own pleasure, her small whimpers and whines making Lucy lose her calm resolve. She wanted to be inside her. She kneeled on the bed and slowly crawled to the petite women, trying not to make too much movement. She was like a moth to the flame, mesmerised by Ona, she couldn't take her eyes away from her glistening lips, her own mouth watering at the sight in front of her. 
The taller brunette brought her lips to Ona’s thigh, kissing the sensitive flesh. Ona smiled, feeling her girlfriends lips on her, she opened her eyes watching Lucy crawl closer to her.
“Kiss me.” Ona whispered. 
Lucy moved higher up Ona’s thighs, closer to her sex, Lucy could smell how wet Ona was, the buds on her tongue watering at the thought of tasting her. She couldn't wait any longer, she would normally tease Ona a lot more, kiss her all over her petite body, make her beg for her, but she had waited too long. She dipped her head to Ona’s core, causing Ona to move her hand away. She took one long lick up her folds onto the sensitive bud. 
“No, Luce kiss me, please.” 
Lucy lifted her head up, Ona was looking down at her, pleading for her. She could never deny Ona anything, especially like this. She crawled up to the shorter brunette, her body was so small under hers. She made sure to let the dick rub against Ona’s body as she moved, reminding her exactly what she was going to do to her. Reminding her exactly who Ona belonged to.
Ona squirmed as she felt the thick rubber press against her. She grabbed Lucy's face and brought their lips together. Ona tried to take control but Lucy didn't allow it, she roughly pushed her tongue into Ona’s making her gasp. The older brunette was losing patience, and Ona could tell. Her strong hips started to move against Ona’s body, she wanted to fuck her, she wanted to here Ona scream her name.
But so did Ona. She wasn't the only one who got riled up by jealousy tonight. Yeah, Lucy maybe had to endure it a lot more, but Ona also knew Lucy was about to wreck her. And she knew she could go for hours if she wanted to. And Ona needed to come now, not in a couple of hours, while Lucy made her beg. The petite girl wrapped her leg around Lucy's body and easily flipped them. Lucy was on her back with Ona on top, smiling down proudly at her own strength.
“You’re so easy Luce.” The shorter brunette whispered into her ear, making Lucy shiver.
“I’m going to ride your face until I’m satisfied, then you can do what you want with me. Does that sound good, baby?”
Lucy nodded quickly. This was the Ona people didn't get to see, (for obvious reasons.) The sweet doe eye Spaniard could be just as dominating as the brunette beneath her. Maybe even more.
She quickly crawled up Lucy's body, ready to take what she wanted from her. She planted her thighs next to Lucy's head and lowered her wet pussy onto Lucy's hot mouth. 
“Fuck.” Ona’s eyes closed as she dropped her head back. As soon as she felt Lucy's soft mouth on her painfully throbbing clit she couldn't wait. She moved her hips into Lucy's mouth, she snaked her fingers into the dark roots of Lucy's hair, and grinded her hips. Lucy wrapped her hands around Ona's hips, helping her guide her movements. She lapped at Ona’s cunt, her thick juices covered her tongue, the girl was wet. Lucy swallowed the mouthful of fluids, moaning as she felt the wetness glide down her throat.  
Ona had one hand in Lucy's hair the other on the head board, giving her full control in how she moved her body against Lucy's skillful tongue. She was dominating the situation, and Lucy was happy enough to be used for Ona’s pleasure. She loved when Ona took charge, the dominant energy in her would switch off so easily, and allow the normally softer lover to take what she wanted. 
Lucy wrapped her lips around Ona’s soft bundle of nerves, making the girl groan loudly, her hips becoming more rough. She knew Lucy could take it. She could feel the swell in her stomach grow. She grabbed Lucy's head with both hands and began to fuck her face, she could hear how wet she was as Lucy slurped on her velvety folds. 
“Hmm, Lucy, your mouth. Are you swallowing?” 
Lucy hummed. Ona had a kink for Lucy swallowing her essence, she loved to hear the girl's throat drinking her down. Especially when she came, she would hold Lucy's head down to make sure she cleaned and swallowed every bit of her up. Not letting her move until she was happy. 
Ona felt the tickling vibration from Lucy's mouth. She smiled down at the girl as she fucked her face. “Good girl. Make sure you swallow when I come.”
Lucy hummed again. Sending sweet vibrations into the petite girl. “Fuck, Lucy, Just like that, Dont stop.”
Ona grinded her hips deep into Lucy's mouth. Her thighs started to shake. The grip in Lucy's hair was almost painful. She let out a cry as she felt Lucy suck perfectly on her clit. She came hard against the girl's tongue. Lucy groaned as she felt Onas wetness slowly drip into her mouth. Swallowing it as loudly as she could. Ona slowed her movements, trying to catch her breath. She looked down at her beautiful girlfriend, licking and cleaning her up. She gently stroked Lucy's hair back. 
“You’re so good. So good.” 
Lucy hummed as she continued licking and swallowing, catching every drop she could. Ona didn't move, she stayed on Lucy's face, enjoying the feeling of her tongue stroking her sensitive folds. They stayed like this for a while, until Ona decided she wanted more. She began to move her hips again, gently this time. Allowing Lucy to move at the pace she wanted. 
Lucy looked up at Ona, she watched as her girlfriend's body gently rocked against her mouth. She looked breathtaking. Her long brown chestnut hair dripped down her chest and back, her eyes were closed as she was lost in the pleasure of Lucy's mouth. She began to make small whimpers as she approached her second orgasm. She came again, crying as she flung her head back in pleasure. Lucy swallowed and suckled just the way the Spaniard liked. Ona gasped as Lucy caressed her with her tongue, finally not able to take anymore, she lifted herself off the older girl and dropped on the bed beside her.
“Your mouth’s amazing.” Ona breathed out. 
Lucy chuckled, she sat up looking at Ona’s body next to her, she could see the bruises forming on her neck from her earlier assault. Her cunt was aching looking at her.
Lucy wasn't a rough lover, she definitely liked to take control and be in charge but she wasnt rough. But with all the emotions of jealousy running through her, seeing Sam's hands all over her girlfriend's body woke something up in her. She moved to the end of the bed, she leaned forward and grabbed Ona by her waist, easily moving the girl. Ona yelped.
“On your knees.”
Ona looked shocked by the sudden change in Lucy's mood. She dropped to her knees in front of Lucy. Ona saw the huge appendage between Lucy's legs, it was their biggest toy, Ona enjoyed using it now and again but a lot of the time Lucy had to go slow. So it wasn't their most used item.
Ona didn’t feel as cocky as she did before, staring down Lucy’s huge strap.
“Open.” 
Ona nodded her head, she opened her mouth and took in the tip of the dick. Lucy's hands snaked into her lose her, guiding her head down the dick. She stopped before she got half way, the girth of the toy was already stretching out her lips.
“That’s it baby.” Lucy started to move her hips forward, pushing Ona’s head back against the mattress. Ona’s hands were on the older brunette's thighs. Lucy removed her hands and pushed them above her head, onto the mattress. Making her press deeper into Ona’s mouth. The spaniard gagged as Lucy began to slowly fuck her face against the bed. 
“You look so good Ona, you're taking it so well. Don’t stop baby.” 
Ona felt the thick plastic slide its way down her throat. Ona could tell Lucy was definitely about to take out some pent up anger on her throat. And that was exactly what the Spaniard wanted, she knew she pushed Lucy today. 
Lucy’s hip started to pick up pace, she held Ona’s wrist in one hand the other gripping at her head. Ona moaned at the new speed, she could feel herself dripping, being used like this from Lucy was a rarity, Lucy looked down at Ona, her doe like eyes were prickling with tears. Her lips sliding up and down the appendage. 
“You drive me crazy Ona.” Lucy pushed deeper. 
Ona’s head was basically trapped between Lucy and the mattress, she could feel her breathing getting more difficult as the dick took up most of the space in her throat, restricting her of air. Tears were streaming down her cheeks now, she started to choke around Lucy's dick. Lucy pulled back, Ona gasped as air hit her lungs again. Her spit was attached to the tip of the strap. Lucy smiled down at her. 
“Take some more.” Lucy pushed her dick back to Ona’s swollen lips. 
Ona opened her mouth, ready for what Lucy would want to give her. 
“So, you enjoy making me jealous?” Lucy snapped.
Ona’s eyes squeezed shut as Lucy pushed herself deeper into her mouth. 
“You liked making me angry? Liked flirting with your little girlfriend?”
Ona moaned, angry Lucy was a sexy Lucy. Spit started to dribble from her mouth at Lucy's pace.
“Look at you, you love it don't you, Ona? You love being a little brat.” 
Lucy finally slid the whole strap down Ona’s throat, pushing the base perfectly against her clit. She rocked her hips into Ona’s face, thoroughly face fucking the girl. Ona began to choke on the thick plastic, tears rolled down her face.
Lucy pulled out of Ona’s mouth, not wanting to actually hurt the girl. Ona coughed and sputtered as she was able to breathe again. Lucy grabbed Ona by her arms and threw her on the bed like she was nothing, another thing Ona went wild for, Lucy's strength, the girl could carry her around like she was nothing, and when she was angry, like she was now, it would always came into play.
Lucy didn't wait around, she sunk two fingers into Ona’s core. The girl gasped at the new intrusion between her legs, Lucy couldn't help but smile at the beautiful noise that escaped Ona’s mouth. 
“So tight Ona, you need to open up for me.” Lucy purred in the girl's ear.
“Fuck, Luce.” Ona groaned, Lucy picked up the pace quickly, the obscene noise that came between Ona’s legs was pornagraphic. She was so wet from Lucy fucking her face, and Lucy knew it. Ona loved rough sex, Lucy did too, but she was always the one to make sure Ona was okay with everything they did. They had their colours, they knew the limits, and Lucy knew Ona would stop her if she ever needed to, the same went for Lucy.
Lucy removed her fingers from Ona and rubbed her wetness over the strap, covering the dick in Ona’s natural lube. The girl had a lot of it. She lined herself up, looking down at Ona’s pussy. 
“You ready baby?”
“Please Lucy, I need you.” 
Lucy pushed the head off the very girthy dick into Ona’s dripping cunt. She would normally let Ona get used to the thickness but today she didn't have the composure. She pushed her hips until she bottomed out into Ona, causing the girl to whimper with each inch that pushed past her tight walls. 
“Fuck Ona.” Lucy knew she couldn't actually feel it, but the noises Ona made alone drove her crazy. She started to grind her hips into Ona, the shorter girl whimpered in her ears as she took what Luct gave her.
“L-Lu- cy!” Ona groaned out as she felt Lucy speed up, the pain quickly turned into pleasure as her pusy swallowed her. 
“You’re mine, Ona.”  Lucy grunted.
“Si. Si. Yours.”
“Don’t ever forget that.” Lucy started to suck on Ona’s skin. Making more marks. 
Ona couldn't talk, the pace of Lucy's hips was unforgiving. Lucy was lost in her own world, fucking the girl beneath her. She grabbed Onas leg and lifted it over her shoulder, pushing herself ever deeper into the petite girl. She groaned at the tightness of the girl. Ona groaned deeply, swearing and muttering between English and Catalan. Lucy was working her body hard, all that pent up anger being used on her body, it only made Ona more wet, building up another orgasm.
Lucy could feel the base of the strap hitting her perfectly. 
“You’re taking it so well baby. You didn't even make me go slow, you’re so good. So good for me.” 
Lucy's words pushed Ona further to her climax. Her body was sweating underneath Lucys, the girl's stamina was a curse and a blessing.
“I’m going to come Lucy.” 
“No, just a little more baby. Wait for me, just a little more.” 
Ona gritted her teeth as Lucy used her body to chase her climax, her own knot in her stomach was stepping dangerously close to the edge. She knew if she came Lucy wouldn't stop, and she didn't think she could take that kind of work on her body right now. So she tried her best to hold on. 
Lucy's hips moved a fraction deeper inside the Spaniard, getting herself closer to her end goal. But it only made it harder for Ona. 
“L-L.” 
“Shhh baby.” Lucy brought her hand up to stroke Ona’s sweaty head. “You can take it. Just a little more. Give me a little more.” She grunted, closing her eyes, as her clit started to throb. She looked down at the beautiful girl below. Her big brown eyes looked up at Lucy, there was so much love in those eyes, so much trust. Pushing Lucy closer.
Ona sucked in her breath, she closed her eyes, her head was throbbing from the pressure of it all. Until she heard that unmistakable groan from the girl above. 
“Fuck, I’m coming.” 
Lucys hips pushed deeper into Ona, the girl let out a high pitched cry as she was finally allowed to come. Lucy let out a deep groan, her hips never stopping, until her body reached that perfect release, pushing the girl deeper into the mattress. 
“Fuck.” Lucy panted into Ona’s sweaty neck. She gently pulled out of the younger girl, flopping beside her.
“You okay?” Lucy looked over at Ona.
Ona smiled. “So good.” 
The girls caught their breath. Lucy slipped off the harness. Ona rolled over to her girlfriend, and began to kiss her neck, sucking and biting her sweaty skin. Lucy gathered Ona’s hair in one hand and guided her down her stomach. 
“Give me your mouth baby.” 
Ona happily did what she was told, and made her way down Lucy's body, kissing her abs on the way down. She slowly kissed her hips, then slowly made her way down to the crease of Lucys lips. But she didn't touch her where she needed her. She slowly kissed over her wet lips instead, and began to kiss her thighs. She knew Lucy didn't have the patience for her teasing. The older brunette grabbed her chin.
“Keep teasing me, and I’ll fuck you over that balcony and let your little girlfriend see how loud you can be.” 
Ona chuckled. “I love you.” She smirked.
Lucy groaned. This girl was such a fucking tease. She smiled and stroked Ona’s face lovingly. “I love you baby. Now let me come in that pretty mouth.”
Ona wrapped her lips around Lucy's swollen clit. Lucy hissed at the first touch, she wasn't going to last long at all. Ona moaned as her girlfriend's arousal soaked her tongue, she began to suckle on the bundle of nerves just the way she knew Lucy loved. The older brunette, entangled her fingers into Ona’s long hair and started to fuck her face. Ona moaned at the grip on her hair as Lucy used her body once more to get off. 
“Just like that. You look so beautiful like this.” 
Ona moaned at Lucy's words. The girl grinded her hips into her mouth as Ona’s tongue hit her clit over and over again. 
“I’m coming. Don’t stop.” She pulled Ona closer into her core, keeping the girl where she needed her. Ona felt Lucy’s juices cover her tongue, she groaned at the amount of sheer wetness that flowed into her mouth. 
“Onaaa.” Lucy looked down at the girl, her tongue lapped up at her soaking cunt. 
She let Ona stay there for a little while, until it got too much. She moved her head away, laughing at Ona’s pout when the girl didnt want to move. Ona laid next to Lucy kissing her neck and snuggling next to her girlfriend.
“Best holiday ever.” Ona whispered.
“Hmm and it's only the first day.”
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