#but it doesn't make it any easier for her to keep her head down even if it is ultimately to try to help others
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Lorelei — Simon ''Ghost'' Riley x Reader | Part I
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Synopsis: Aware of the way his lifestyle doesn't align with your dream life and unwilling to quit his life as a soldier, Simon breaks things off with you. It isn't until a year later that he sees you again, a tiny carbon copy of him held in your arms.
''So you're just goin' to sit there and tell me that isn't my daughter.'' Simon says bluntly, tone even yet carrying a snark hidden that you came to listen so many times after working with him— never once directed at you until now.
''It's really none of your business, Ghost.'' You don't even spare a glance at him, simply looking at your little girl, fingers gently running through her short hair. She looks exactly like Simon, though that will never take away your love for her.
''You're not denyin' it.'' He hesitantly sits down next to you, secretly afraid you'll bite his head off. The glare you shoot his way is enough confirmation that you would if you could. You sigh softly, the air leaving your lungs before being sucked back in, not wanting to argue in front of your little girl despite her not understanding words yet.
''Well, what's it to you? Why do you need to know?'' I can't handle you leaving me again.
''Don't be like that.'' His tone is soft, almost pleading. It has been over a year since he broke up with you, yet that doesn't make the loss any easier, not now that he knows he has a daughter, no matter how much you tried to hide it from him.
''Why didn't you tell me?'' He asks gently, feeling like he's walking on eggshells. It's the first time ever he feels that way with you, and he doesn't blame you in the slightest. It takes a few seconds of you thinking before you answer.
''I was terrified of you choosing to walk away from her... to be a deadbeat. I didn't want to have that image of you, because that would have hurt more than the break up.'' Your voice is more calm, though for all the wrong reasons. The familiar tingling all over your nose is back, eyes stinging as you try to hold back tears, too prideful to cry in front of him again.
''That's what you think o' me?'' He replies in nothing but pure disbelief and slight disgust. He would never walk away from his child, no matter how much that would destroy all the walls he has been building for years, stones upon stones carefully piled on top of each other, so strong nothing could ever break through— until you came along.
''I was fucking scared, okay?'' You look away and wipe your eyes with one hand, the other one carefully supporting the neck of the baby on your lap. Simon sighs, his bare hand hesitantly reaching down to trace the features of the tiny girl, being careful with her as if she would break if he applied any pressure. He notices your eyes glued to his hand, eyebrows furrowed. He's about to move his hand away until you adjust the little girl so he can touch her face without the awkward angle.
''Give me one more chance. Please— please, let me be a father to her.'' Simon never begged for anything, not even when he was tortured for months to no end, drugged, beaten like a dog, yet here he is; begging his ex for a chance to keep the girl in his life. You don't reply.
''I'll do everything I can. What I should've done. I want to be here, please.'' He was so damn ready to get on his knees and beg if that's what it took for you to let him be involved in her life. He's not asking you to be together— he knows he doesn't deserve that chance.
''She's looking at you like she knows you.'' Your response is ominous to say the least. You want to deny him, to tell him he doesn't even deserve to be able to touch the little girl you birthed alone, that he doesn't deserve the chance at a family after he destroyed 4 years of a relationship because of the very same thing, but... your little girl is looking up at him with pure admiration and curiosity in her big brown eyes, her tiny hand struggling to hold one of his fingers. Growing up with a single parent yourself, you know she deserves better, and you're willing to put your pride and pain aside to make sure she gets the world.
''Okay.'' You reply after taking a deep breath, holding it into your lungs for what feels like forever, choosing to ignore the strong arms wrapping around you, bringing all three of you close. It feels... right.
[NEXT]
#cod mw2#cod mwii#simon ghost riley#ghost mw2#simon riley#ghost cod#ghost call of duty#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost x you#call of duty#simon ghost riley imagine#ghost x f!reader#ghost x you#ghost x y/n#dad!simon riley#dad!ghost#ghost mw3#mw2 x reader#mw2 x you
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You don't fool me
A/n: two thing- first this took me forever to write, I kept having to go back and scrap ideas 🥹 second, I did not know just how down bad I was for this man until I had to sit down and write this so.
Also friendly reminder- if your age isn't easily accessible on your profile I will not be tagging you! That said if you'd like a tag in future works let me know and I'll add you to the list!
bestie beta reader: @yukios-medic you are really the best ma'am I appreciate you so much 🥹💙💙💙
Pairing: Sukuna x fem!reader, Yuji pining
cw/tw: minors/ageless blogs DNI, all characters aged up, dub-con that becomes enthusiastic consent, unprotected sex, cream pie, fingering, oral sex (female receiving), oral sex (male receiving), rough sex, dirty talk, threats of killing
Word count: 5k (ish)
This wasn't the first time they'd been paired up and sent off to find and kill a curse, but it was the first time Yuji was weary of the whole thing. They were both strong, that wasn't an issue – he'd been on back-to-back missions for weeks and it was starting to take its toll, that was the issue.
Of course, it didn't help that whenever he was around her, Sukuna would become an even bigger pain in the ass (than he already was).
They'd been sent to a long-abandoned warehouse, falling apart as it was, and radiating with cursed energy. Yep, whatever it was they were after was definitely in here.
"Split up to cover more ground?" She suggested as she looked up at him, but he shook his head.
"We can probably exorcize it quicker if we come across it at the same time, we should just stick together for now." It was a simple enough explanation, not a hint of 'I'm pushing my limits just being here with you' or 'it's easier to know you're safe if you're by my side' detectable.
To her, at least. Yuji chooses to ignore the scoff that resonates in his head as they cautiously enter the building. They walk side-by-side down the hallway, ears and eyes analyzing every detail of their surroundings.
"Must be one pain in the ass curse to send the both of us. I can feel the cursed energy everywhere, I just can't tell exactly where the source is." She filled the silence, wringing her hands together nervously.
"Yeah, I know what you mean. It’s out there, but it's all about the same output. We'll just have to watch our backs." Yuji said with a nod.
"Hey, what do you think Nobara did when she found out Gojo canceled movie night to send us after this one? I can see her practically popping a vein." She laughed softly, moving around a stack of boxes to find any sign of their curse.
"Fushiguro is probably wishing it was you that got left behind right about now." Yuji guessed with a small chuckle, suppressing the thought that he might have wished for it, too. A faint gurgle sounded at the opposite end of the hall, cursed energy seeping into every corner of their bodies as it grew closer.
Yuji covered her mouth with his hand, keeping her scream muffled as he tugged her against his chest and pulled them into the shadows.
"Shh, I think I hear something." He murmurs, squinting in the darkness. He doesn't feel the mouth form on his hand, not until her lips are moving against his palm as she makes a noise.
She's gagging; trying to pry Yuji's hand off her face. And he's going to – until Sukuna's voice rings in his head.
'Pull away and I'll bite her tongue off. Try to keep her quiet while she's drowning in her own blood'
Yuji froze as Sukuna cackled, and she still struggled in his grip, now like iron to keep the curse from making good on his threat.
His name was muffled when she frantically tried to call it, but it only left her mouth open that much more for Sukuna to swipe his tongue along the inside.
If they could conceal their own cursed energy for just a second, then it would keep going on its path to the left of them, and probably wouldn't circle back around for a while. Yuji set his jaw, glaring up the hall as he spoke.
"Conceal your energy, then we'll deal with him. One curse at a time." The only confirmation she gave that she heard him was slightly loosening her grip on his arm.
The curse slunk away and Yuji held his breath, waiting to hear any sign of it coming back. When he was sure it wasn’t, he let out a sigh and threw his head back against the wall. Taking a moment to realize the situation they were still in he looked down at her.
He couldn’t see the blush in her cheeks, but he could feel the heat on his fingers. She shifted her body against his, letting out a whimper at the awkward kiss she was still locked in.
Yuji swallowed hard and took a deep breath. This was so not the time to be letting the sounds she was making go straight to his cock.
'You want her so badly, take her.' Sukuna taunted.
"No." Yuji snapped his response, trying to think of a way out of this (and the boner he was starting to sport against her back).
'Fuck her, brat. Or I'll kill her the next time I get the chance, and I'll draw it out while I make you watch.'
Sukuna knew well what he was doing, keeping this conversation in Yuji's head. She had no clue what he was trying to shield her from. Of course he wanted her, but not like this. Not when Sukuna was all but forcing his hand on the matter, not even giving her a choice.
“I said no! Knock it off!” Sukuna just chuckled, and she turned her head to look up at him with worry in her eyes.
'Or perhaps you’d like me to put us both out of commission. Tell me, just how long do you think she’d last against this curse on her own?'
Yuji’s heart dropped to his stomach. There’s no way Sukuna hated her enough to let her die like this, not with the way he found her so entertaining to him. Not with the way he currently had his tongue down the back of her throat- right?
'No, but if it would cause you everlasting turmoil, I’d jump at the chance.'
Could she ever forgive him for doing this? Would Sukuna even drop this after all was said and done?
Yuji was exhausted, and Sukuna knew it too. It was only a matter of time before he could slip out and swap places.
'I could always assist instead. After all, one wrong move and she’s on her own anyways. Go ahead brat, ask me for my help.' He grinned.
“No, last time I let you out you were a dick.” Yuji snapped, but he was running out of options here. How long until that curse realized where they were and turned back around? He could always make a deal with Sukuna, if he would agree to it was another question though.
At the sound of Yuji’s words her body tensed, blood running cold. There was no way Yuji was actually thinking about letting the king of curses out into the wild, especially when he already had her in this position.
'Tic-toc punk ass, this offer isn’t going to last forever.'
“Promise you won’t hurt her first.” Her eyes went wide and she began to struggle in his grasp again, body going hot. Screaming through his palm and Sukuna’s tongue as well as she could manage in protest.
There is no way he’s about to offer his body over to Sukuna right now, and all she could think about were all the previous times he’d spoken to her – though, at her might be a better word. Everything he’d said up to this point, his promises to absolutely wreck her- all came flooding back. Could they really not handle this job any other way than to bring Sukuna into the mix?
'You humans are so predictable, really fucking takes the fun out of everything. I’ll get rid of the curse. Just say you aren’t strong enough, you need a real man to do your dirty work for you.'
“That’s not-”
'Going once…'
“I don’t-”
'Going TWICE...'
“Fine! I need your help, please.” She was hysterical at this point, thrashing in his grip as much as she could, grinding her ass into him harder every time she moved.
'That doesn’t sound like what we agreed to, try again.'
Yuji groaned, thankful he could use that as an excuse to let out some of his frustrations.
“Sukuna please, I’m not strong enough and need a real man to do my dirty work for me.” Yuji bit out, and she stilled at his words, stomach knotting. Any minute now, Sukuna would be breathing down her neck. Months of sexual tension, mostly from his side - would it finally come to a head now? Or would he leave it and just get the job done, let Yuji take back over when it was safe–
A low chuckle rumbled from behind her, and the sound ran straight through her body to her core. She swallowed, realizing the tongue down her throat had finally disappeared.
Sukuna ran a hand up her chest before resting it on her throat.
“Well, well, this is certainly a turn of events, isn’t it?” She whimpered, frozen in place. What the hell was she supposed to do now?
“Sukuna…” She breathed his name warily.
“Surprised to see me? I did tell you I’d have you some day. So, how was I? It’s been a few hundred years. You’ll have to excuse the fact I’m a little rusty.” Sukuna filled the silence, not waiting for an answer.
“You weren’t too bad yourself; I think I even felt you participating at the end. Care for more?” He whispered in her ear, tongue flicking out to lick her lobe. She bit back her moan, clamping her knees together as she gently rocked back into him. He laughed, moving his hands down her body to grip her hips and pull her in closer against him.
“Oh, don’t be shy now, it’s just us. The brat won’t even know, it can be our little secret.”
“I-” She stammered, face hot. So what if she’d gone back to her room at the end of a long day full of Sukuna teasing her, and closed her eyes while chanting his name under the sheets? So what if being the object of the king of curses’ endless teasing was what she used to push her over the edge some nights? That was all by her choice - she was in charge.
Currently having Sukuna’s painfully rock-hard cock prodding her ass while he held her tight against him? She was so clearly not in charge, and to make matters worse? The realization sent her core gushing.
“I can smell you,” he continued, taking in a long breath. And this time she couldn’t bite back her moan.
“Sukuna!” She gasped, feeling the blush run up her ears.
“I think you should really stop being such a cock-tease, woman. No wonder Yuji can’t help but fuck his fist most nights. I bet he can smell you too, he just spares your feelings by not saying anything.” The fog he’d brought with him was starting to clear, and she tried to pry his fingers off of her.
“Stop! You’re lying!” But Sukuna just threw his head back in a cackle.
“I actually don’t care if you believe me, do you want to know why?” He stepped out from behind her so quickly, shoving her back against the wall, it made her head spin. Looking up at his tattooed face and red eyes only solidified how real this situation was for her - and her mouth went dry. He grinned down at her, gripping her chin to hold her in place.
“I’m going to fuck you through this wall. You won’t be able to look at that stupid brat without thinking of me inside you ever again. And he’ll never know because he’s out cold.” Using his free hand, he ripped off her skirt. She cried out, trying to grip his wrist and stop her panties from meeting the same fate.
“Aww, still shy, are we?” He teased as he examined the red lace, running his fingers down to the ever-growing wet spot on them.
“N-No!” Sukuna just chuckled, watching her face morph from flustered to pleasure at his touch.
“And look, you even wore red just for me. How cute of you.” She moaned, closing her eyes. The physical and mental teasing was too much. If he wasn’t going to kill her, she was going to die of embarrassment. He sucked his teeth, hooking his thumb into her mouth and tugging her face.
“Look at me while I touch you, I won’t tell you twice.” He snapped, and her heart thrummed in her chest. It felt so good to finally have him touch her after all this time, she’d forgotten just how dangerous he was in the moment. She nodded sheepishly.
“Good, you listen well for a sorcerer. I don’t believe in praising those beneath me, but I think I’ll make an exception just this once.” He pressed his fingers against her core, watching the way she squirmed under him.
“You’re so wet already and I’ve barely touched you, was my tongue down your throat just what you needed?” Her head was spinning, his hold on her jaw rough, but all she could picture was wrapping her lips around him.
She slid her tongue around his thumb cautiously, watching his reaction for any sign that she’d miss-stepped.
He groaned, smirking down at her as he leaned closer.
“And here you’d have everyone believing you’re too innocent for such filthy things.” Finding the edge of her panties, he pushed them aside, running his fingers through her slick folds. He watched as she moaned, satisfaction settling on his face as the moan grew louder when he pushed a finger inside of her.
“God you’re so tight, there’s no way that brat could stuff his cock in you.” Her walls flexed at his words. Sukuna’s one finger was already so thick, and now her mind was swimming with the thought of having more.
“But don’t worry, you’ll take it from me.” And then she felt a second finger at her entrance, making her eyes open wider. She tried to speak as best she could around the awkward hold he still had her in, but it didn’t matter.
“Suku-na!” She cried out as he forced another finger into her.
“I’d be thanking me if I were you. I’m feeling generous enough to stretch you out before I ram my cock into your stomach.” He offered, grinning as he watched her try and hold herself together.
He didn’t wait for her to adjust to the feeling, why would he? Fucking her open on him was all he could think about while he sat bored on his throne - not that he was admitting it aloud.
So many days, weeks, months, of him wrapped up in her. He knew exactly what she was doing to him, even if she didn’t.
“Was it worth it to parade around like a whore in heat around us?” He asked as he began to slide his fingers in and out of her.
“You know I offered him the chance to have you first. Humans and their virtues though, so fickle. Of course, the brat couldn’t do this.” He pressed his palm against her cunt, and her back arched off the wall as his tongue shot out to flatten on her clit.
Letting go of her chin he wrapped his hand around her neck, giving it a testing squeeze before trailing down to her chest. Groping over her top, and then easily ripping the buttons away.
“Not my clothes!” She protested, but if he heard, he ignored her. Choosing instead to knead her breast as it spilled over her matching bra. Sukuna chuckled, looking back at her.
“The matching set, I’m starting to think you really did wear this just for me. Is that what you do? Under all those clothes you put on, you wear red hoping I’ll catch a glimpse. Hoping I’ll come out to rip it off of you.” He spoke as he rolled her bud roughly between his fingertips.
“God!” She cried out. He was everywhere. Pumping his fingers further inside her walls, tongue abusing her clit-
“I’ll be your god.” He hissed, before leaning down to suck her nipple into his mouth.
She was fast approaching the edge, gasping for air as he shot her towards her peak.
He curled his fingers inside of her, reaching a new angle that sent white hot pleasure shooting through her body.
“Sukuna!” She choked out, reaching up to ball her hands into his top. She was wary of touching him at first, opting to press against the wall instead. But it was all too much. She needed something more to try and ground herself through the first orgasm he was going to rip from her body.
“You gonna cum, little sorcerer?” He hummed around a mouthful of her breast, looking up at her expectantly. She already looked so cute and fucked out for him; grinding into his hand to push him further inside, face flushed as she whimpered his name over, brows pinched up while she looked down to him with a breathless nod.
“Please Sukuna...” If he wasn’t so pent up himself, he might have stopped what he was doing, but edging her would only edge him, and he had no interest in prolonging his own pleasure any more than being stuck in the passenger seat of his vessel already had.
For this encounter, anyways. So, he gave her what she wanted, driving his fingers faster into her cunt, biting down on the nipple currently still in his mouth, while his other hand roughly pinched at the other.
He could feel how close she was. It was getting harder to slide his fingers back into her, and he couldn’t wait to sink into her.
When he didn’t slow down or stop, she took it as permission, though, the tip of the iceberg was so close that even if he had told her no, she wasn’t sure she could have stopped, anyway.
It crashed over her in waves, throwing her against the wall as she cried out his name. Everything was gone - her sight, her hearing, all she could do was ride against his hand, and hope that their grasp on each other was enough to keep her standing through the intensity of it all.
Even when her high started to ebb away, he was still lazily pumping his fingers inside of her. Slowly the world came back to her, heartbeat pounding in her ears, and she whined.
“Aww, is someone sensitive?” He pulled away from her chest with a grin, red eyes glinting as he stared down at her dazed expression. She weakly pushed against his chest, trying to get him to stop while she regained some semblance of normal breathing.
“Sukuna…”
“Well, aren’t you going to thank me?” She swallowed hard, still trying to find her way out of the haze.
“I- thank you...” He pulled his fingers out of her, chuckling at the whimper that left her lips. Raising his hand to his mouth, he kept his eyes on her as he sucked his fingers clean.
“Mmm, I don’t think so.”
“What?” Confusion crossed her face, and he pressed the same two fingers against her parted lips, looking on in admiration as she opened them without question. Sukuna pressed his fingers against her tongue, pulling her mouth open as he did.
“Those red panties you’re wearing will be sufficient.”
“What?” The word left her mouth again, and he raised an eyebrow, dragging his fingers down her tongue and out of her mouth. She stared at him for only a second more before leaning down to slide them off her hips. She looked down to keep from fumbling, but he hooked his finger under her chin, tilting her face back up to him.
“I didn’t say you could look away.” She bit her lip, shimmying awkwardly to slide them down her knees. Stepping one foot out of them at a time, she began to lift them up. He grabbed them from her, large fingers brushing her own as he did.
She moved to stand up again, but he stopped her, shaking his head.
“On second thought, I don’t think one pair of panties is worth a mind-numbing orgasm, do you?” But it wasn’t really a question, not when he was already guiding her to her knees in front of him. The floor below her was cold - a shock that her core, still radiating heat, could feel.
“Be a good girl and open wide,” he said, reaching into his pants to take hold of his neglected cock. Pulling it out, he ran his thumb over the tip, smearing his precum up and down his length.
Sukuna groaned, gritting his teeth. The brat could imagine all he wanted; it would never compare to having her right here in front of him. Small hands braced on his thighs, eyes blown wide as she took in just how fucked she was about to be.
“See something you like?” Her breath hitched as he knocked his fat tip against her bottom lip. She slowly opened her mouth, tongue sliding out and against the underside of his cock. He groaned again, grabbing the back of her head as he forced himself into her mouth.
She dug her nails into his thighs as he did, trying in vain to pull her head back so she could breathe.
“You’re not acting very grateful. Don’t make me fuck your throat, I’ll end up hurting your feelings.” He chuckled. Tears were already welling in her eyes as she choked on what he could fit in her mouth. Slowly, she removed a hand off from his thigh, reaching down to run her fingers through her folds. When she’d gathered enough of her release, she reached back up to pump the rest of him with it.
“How resourceful of you. Makes me want to fuck my cock down your throat all the more.” She moaned around his length, gently rocking him as far as she could take him. Part of her was screaming for air, the other wanted to make him feel just as good as he’d made her feel moments ago. The fog was back, and she blinked the tears away as she looked up at him.
His jaw was tense, one hand still at the back of her head, the other balled in a fist and braced against the wall. Before this she’d only seen him when he was a mouth and one eye, stirring up chaos on Yuji’s cheek. Looking up at him now, though, red eyes trained on her and black markings all over his body - he was breathtaking.
All-powerful and terrifying as hell, considering that he could kill her in an instant, but breathtaking, nonetheless. She let her other hand slide down his leg to rest between her own, pressing her fingers into herself - only to whine in disappointment when it felt nothing like him.
“Needy little thing, aren’t you? I’ve gone hundreds of years without, and you just can’t wait for another.” She breathed hard through her nose, trying to take in as much air as she could before he hit the back of her throat again. Black dots buzzed at the corners of her vision, the sound of her choking on what she could take echoed through the hall.
Her jaw was pried open at a painful angle to accommodate him, and he wasn’t showing any signs of stopping. Her grasp on his cock grew slack, and she wasn’t fighting him every time he knocked his tip just a little further into her mouth. Her own fingers stilled in her aching walls, eyelids fighting to stay open.
Sukuna huffed, sliding his hand around to smack at her cheek.
“Don’t go passing out on me now, I’m not finished with you just yet.” And he pulled out of her mouth with a loud squelch as she gasped for air. The lightheaded feeling slowly dissipated as she looked up at him, tears and spit covering her face.
“You did okay. For now. We’ll revisit that later, get up.” She didn’t have to be told twice, rising on wobbly legs as quickly as she could. The thought occurred to her, that she was practically naked in front of him, while he was still fully clothed. She swallowed hard, trying to wipe away some of the shame along with the tears.
But he didn’t give her much time to wallow in her self-pity, quickly turning her around and pinning her to the cool wall. She shivered at the feeling of his solid body pressed into her back, erection still wet with her spit as it bounced on her bare ass.
“Maybe next time, I’ll let you look at me while I fuck you.” He breathed down her neck, grabbing his length and rubbing it through her folds. She dug her nails into the wall; he barely fit her mouth, there was no way she was ready–
“Relax, I’m not interested in breaking you the first time around. It would ruin the fun in watching you look at me in anticipation every time you’re around.” And he wasn’t wrong. Hell, he was still here, and the anticipation was coursing through her. Taking a slow breath she waited, thankful that the cool wall was enough to ease the heat on her face.
Sukuna gripped her hip and hooked his tip at her entrance before pushing in. She gritted her teeth, moaning at the already over-full feeling. For the situation being what it was, he was fairly gentle as he steadily eased himself through her tight walls with a prolonged hiss. She could only stay pressed against the wall, jaw dropped in a silent moan as he filled her out inch by agonizing inch. Her eyes rolled, body unsure if she should cry out in pleasure or pain.
“God look at you, practically foaming at the mouth. What would your sorcerers say if they caught you like this, hmm?” He groaned, bucking his hips up into hers. Her voice finally caught up to her, and she cried out, nails scraping down the wall as she clawed for anything to keep her grounded.
He didn’t quite fit all the way, but it only turned Sukuna on even more. Of course, he couldn’t fit - but he would. He would break her open on his cock as many times as he needed, until she fit him like a second skin. Until he was the only thing she could think about whenever she tried to seek pleasure elsewhere.
She was playing a game she had no clue about, and Sukuna was going to win. He laughed as he grabbed her hips, pulling out to slam back into her walls. They sucked him in and tried to keep him out all at the same time.
“Sukuna, fuck!” She moaned, reaching behind her to slow him down. He said he wasn’t going to break her, but the rough pace he’d set was literally fucking the air right out of her lungs. Her walls squeezed him tighter, and he moaned.
“Too much for you already, princess? I’m just getting started.” Sukuna grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head.
“Too much, fuck, ‘s too much!”
“I’m not that brat, you’ll take what I give you exactly how I give it to you. Don’t piss me off, I’m in such a giving mood, right now!” He snaked his other hand around her, tongue darting out to swirl around her clit. Sukuna grinned. In an attempt to get away, she only managed to shove herself further onto his cock.
“Sukuna please, I don’t…Please!”
“Short circuiting, and I’m not even close yet. Shall we see just how many times I can make you cry before I’m finally satisfied?” Her mind was melting, she didn’t care anymore. What was she even begging for? Him to stop? Or maybe she was begging him not to stop. She’d never been filled up like this before; even the pain was pleasurable now. All she could do was stand against this wall and take it, anyway. Her body relaxed against him slightly, and he grinned.
“Is there something you want from me, little sorcerer?” She bit her wobbly lip hard, trying to focus on his words.
“I want- I wanna cum.”
“That so?” She nodded with a whimper.
“Beg, and I’ll think about it.” She couldn’t even be bothered with the feelings of shame looming overhead. She wanted one thing, and if begging was all she needed to do to achieve it, well…
“Please I wanna cum.” She whined, hands flexing in his grasp.
“Beg more, you can do better than that.”
“Please Sukuna please I wanna cum, never wanted to cum so bad. Please make me cum on your cock please I-” She was a wailing mess, she didn’t care who heard her pleas, only that he might answer them. His tongue licked at her folds, snaking around his length to tease her from every side.
He rocked her into her second orgasm, reveling in the feeling of her tightening around him as she screamed.
God, he needed to feel it again. The way her walls fluttered around his thickness, trying to close around the strain of taking him. The feeling was maddening, and Sukuna was sure he could pull another one from her immediately, he just needed to pick up the pace as he rammed his cock harder into her.
The wet sound of his second mouth lapping at her, mixed with her moaning variations of his name and ‘fuck don’t stop’ was more than enough to catch the attention of anyone close by, and as absorbed as Sukuna was in this little game, he wouldn’t let his guard down. He was sure she didn’t even remember what they were here for anymore at this point. If the whites of her rolled eyes and the drool currently sliding down the wall where her face was pressed against it were any indication, anyway.
He could feel her whole body start to twitch and tighten, and he knew she was close again. Two orgasms in, and he knew her body so well already. He’d put that knowledge to good use later.
“Go ahead little sorcerer, scream for me.” And she came hard, walls clamping down on him, practically shoving him out while she did. It was enough to send him reeling, too. Hips slamming up into her, he sank his teeth into her shoulder as he finished with a growl. If they weren’t both so wrapped up in each other, they might have realized he growled ‘mine.’ He painted her insides in white hot ropes, stilling when the euphoria finished washing over him.
“If you think that was mind-numbing, just wait until I get ahold of you in my true form.” Sukuna whispered against the shell of her ear.
He pulled out with a groan, watching her whole body quiver as he did.
“Clean yourself up.” She finally looked back at him, brows knit. He ripped the sleeve off his jacket, handing it over to her. When she tried to pull it, his grip tightened, and he looked at her expectantly.
“Thank you…” She said quietly as she cleared her throat.
“Such a good girl for me already, I don’t even have to train you. I’ll be back, be ready to leave when I am.”
“Wait where-”
“There’s still a job to do here, isn’t there? I’ve got a curse to kill.” He smirked as he walked backwards up the hall.
Yuji wouldn’t be awake for a while, plenty of time for Sukuna to hide his prize. One of the many he planned on taking from her, he thought as he twirled the red panties on his finger.
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Tags: @saiki-enthusiast @alice-smutthoughts @idktbhloley @rezitio @matchat3a @mo0nforme @bleach-your-panties @fateisnotafactor @lov3ly-bunny @antishadow2021 @xo-evangeline @aramea205 @ackachii @tiredravenette @carpioassists @yoongislatinagff @unoriginalidea @i-likebread @squishybabei @emyyy007 @bitchykittenconnoisseur @kokushibosgirl @wishandluck @kimchi-zaks @kyriekurokami @not-brionnne @andic137 @tang3r1n @mammon-s
#jjk#sukuna jjk#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna#sukuna ryomen#cannot believe I finished it finally FINALLY#sukuna smut#sukuna ryoumen smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk smut#lil bit of yuji x reader
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I keep rewatching that epilogue scene and, the way Hunter and Omega talk about her joining the Rebellion... You can tell this is not the first time they're having this conversation. And I just can't help but wonder what the previous one(s) must have looked like.
Because something tells me it wasn't peaceful.
I just can't imagine Hunter having any other reaction than an immediate, definitive "absolutely not" the first time he hears about Omega wanting to join the Rebellion. Just like I can't imagine Omega being okay with that reaction.
Were they arguing about it? Were they butting heads and not backing down from their respective points? Because they would. Absolutely, they would.
Did their brothers have conversations with both of them separately? Did Wrecker tell Omega to give Hunter a break because he's old and worried? Did Crosshair convince Hunter that he can't keep a grown woman grounded just because he's scared about her? Did Echo tell him that if this is Omega's calling, he has to let her do her thing?
She tried to sneak off. As if she didn't want to go through this again. As if she thought leaving without a goodbye would be easier on everyone and this way no one can stop her. After all, she made up her mind. She's going. But when she turns the light on and spots Hunter sitting there, she's not even surprised. She nods to herself like of course. Of course he's here.
This literally sounds like they've been over this before. But this time the conversation is surely more peaceful. They both have the other's perspective in their minds now.
This is my choice and I know it scares you but I need you to understand.
I know I won't change your mind but I don't want you to go, I want you to be safe.
This must have been said before as well. Maybe in anger. Maybe in pleading. Or desperation. I wouldn't be surprised if Omega got very frustrated with Hunter for treating her like she's still a kid. Nor would I be shocked if Hunter had trouble articulating his point of view in all his worry and panic. But here, it's a confession. It's very vulnerable. It's the truth Hunter doesn't want to hear and gives a reason why.
Omega is a grown woman now. Skilled, capable, brave. Hunter doesn't doubt that. But to him, she's always going to be his little girl no matter how old she is and I am still speechless at the fact that we actually see him not only struggling with it but also admitting to it.
Back on Pabu, after they escaped Tantiss, Hunter told her: "We've all fought enough battles for one lifetime." And now, years later, Omega echoes this back to him. "You've all fought enough." Almost like she's reading Hunter's mind and knows that if he can't stop her, he's going to want to join her.
The way he wants to reach after her here when she gets up. Like he wants to say wait, no, don't go yet!
But this is her fight, just like she says. She's never been able to sit still, we know that, we've seen that. Just like Echo back in season 2, she can't stand the thought of staying down and doing nothing when there are people out there fighting for freedom. People she can help. She's a skilled pilot now (I can bet she'll become most famous in the Rebellion for her flawless Tech-Turn), she has absorbed everything her brothers have taught her over the years like a sponge and now she wants to use that. After years of living away from the fight, she's finally ready to get back out there and make a difference in the galaxy. Fight for peace because that is her calling.
She's ready, but Hunter is not.
You can tell it's literally tearing him apart to watch her go. That's his baby, the whole reason he's living the life he has now. He gave his blood, sweat and tears so she could grow up safe and happy and away from the Empire's clutches. And now she's going back right into them, willingly.
But she's all grown up. And he has no choice but to let her go do her thing. So he holds her close and I don't doubt sends out a prayer that she comes back to him safe and in one piece. He closes his eyes and commits the feeling to memory because who knows when will be the next time he gets to do this?
And it might be destroying him inside but he's so damn proud. And he knows she's got this. She doesn't need her old man to watch her back anymore.
And yet still this old man, with gray in his hair and beard, this old man whose posture is hunched and who is moving slowly and having difficulty standing up because of his accelerated age, is telling his very grown up and very capable daughter that if she needs him, he's going to pick up his blaster, don the armor and join her in the fight.
Because that's what fathers do.
#the bad batch#star wars the bad batch#the bad batch spoilers#bad batch#bad batch spoilers#the bad batch season 3#tbb hunter#tbb omega#hunter and omega
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DP x DC AU
Danny's gonna adopt all the Halfas in Gotham whether he wants to or not, and it's gonna start with the little dead girl he found after crawling out of that portal in the league base.
Pt 2 here. My Au Art
...........................
There's a dead little girl sitting on the rug in front of Danny's coffee table curiously eating Cheetos.
Well, she's not all the way dead, only half, could even be a little less then that, Danny would know he's sort of the leading expert on being half dead.
Her skins blue, like comic book mystique blue, vibrant and impossible to miss. Shes got these big black eyes and a nasty split going straight through her upper lip to just under her right eye.
She's also missing her nose, it's just gone, no cartilage left over just the gaping nasal cavity like skulls have.
The little girl looks dead, she is dead, or she's at least as dead as Danny is which is almost exclusively in name only.
Her name is Curaré, Danny only knows it because it's been branded into the skin of the little girls neck, just under the curve of her bald skull.
Curaré is terribly thin, the little toddler sized T-shirt she has on hangs loose around her torso where baby fat should fill it out.
She's horrible to look at, a tiny nightmare, her corpse like coloring doing nothing to mitigate the appearance.
Curaré was neither a healthy nor normal little girl, there was no way Danny could have left that league facility without her.
Oh and she almost exclusively spoke in Spanish which made finding her dinner hard.
Not that Cheetos are really dinner, little kids need to eat more then that Danny was pretty sure, like 89% sure. Although they did have a lot of calories...
Danny tilts his head absently as he looks at her, the little demon being illuminated red and green by the glow of the TV. She's enraptured by the Scooby doo rerun Gotham's only spanish language channel is playing tonight.
As if she can feel his eyes she turns to him and tilts her head the same way.
Danny blinks at her, Curaré blinks back.
" Uh- " Danny starts, trying to remember anything from his Spanish elective from sophomore year. God, his teacher had been right he had needed to study more. " The Cheetos, you like them? They're uh...bueno? Oh! Son Buenos?"
He points his finger down at the snack sized bag in her grasp, her fingers are tiny , they must be so fragile, looking at the desperate grasp they have on the bag makes Danny's chest hurt. How could anyone be so small? Had Danny ever been that small?
Curaré blinks again, long and slow, processing Danny's words. She looks down at her Cheetos and back up at Danny then she carefully holds the bag out to him.
" Oh no that's ok they're for you kiddo" Danny insists.
Curaré shakes the bag at him, like enticing a stray cat with treats but he only shakes his head again.
She gives up after that, shrugging and turning back to her cartoons.
Inside her chest Danny can feel her ghost core vibrate placidly as Scooby and Shaggy run across the TV in a panic.
Danny's own core can't help but try to match it's frequency, a low contented humming echoes between them, safe it seems to say.
Curaré can't be older then 4, which means she was resurrected young and that she died even younger. Danny doesn't know how any of it happened, halfas aren't created easily, the amount of energy needed...
She's so small.
He hopes it was fast, whatever it was that did this to her, made her like him.
Danny also hopes that her injuries aren't permanent. Some ghosts keep the carnage of their corpses well into the after life but as a Halfa Curaré should heal, even if she got those injuries during her ressurction. For her sake it'll be much easier to find some sense of normalcy if she isn't always actively bleeding, even if the blood itself is just an ecto-echo of real blood.
Danny curls his knees up to his chest and hides his face for a moment just trying to breathe. He's too young to be taking care of a toddler, he's still six months away from turning 18 and hes got school on Monday. His eyes burn and his throat constricts as he tries to swallow.
No one else but Danny would know how to take care of Curaré, and she's got no family to try and stumble their way through it. Danny can't take her back to the league and he sure as hell isn't going to search for whoever put that brand on her neck.
Even if he dropped her off at the fire station Gotham only has one Meta focused orphanage, it's state run and all the kids in it have to wear little prison style jump suits. And the food sucks, Danny can personally vouch for that.
She doesn't have a home, she's just as out of place here in Gotham as Danny is. Danny really wishes, not for the first time, that he had an adult here. Like Jazz or hell even Mr. Fuckin Lancer.
Just anyone. Anyone who could tell Danny what to do about this. Who could help him out with the child he's suddenly acquired.
He wishes anyone else was here so it wouldn't just be him and Curaré. Two dead kids sitting on the floor of a studio apartment in the Bowery watching cartoons.
What a pair the two of them will make, oh God. Danny laughs as a few tears stain his jeans.
Curaré makes a curious little noise that has Danny forcing his head up. She's reached the inevitable end of her snack sized bag and she looks absolutely devastated. She turns to look at him, tilting the empty bag towards him as if to say ' can you believe this shit!'
Danny can't help but give her a watery smile, no more crying Fenton, and wipes his nose on the back of his hand.
" Okay, one thing at a time." Danny tells himself. " You finished your Cheetos and now it's time for dinner, right? Stop me if I'm wrong."
Curaré just looks at him.
Danny's not worried, they're gonna have all the time in the world to teach her to appreciate humour and also English.
" I'm going to take that as a yes. " Danny hops up off the floor and goes to find his phone, nobody does dinner like the local Batburger.
Little foot steps follow him into the hallway, he'll have to get used to that sound he's going to be hearing it a lot.
Food first, everything would be better after they ate.
...............
For BG I imagine he's been living in Gotham for a few months and found Curaré while popping in and out of different portals in Gotham. (Who woulda guessed that some portal in Gotham leads right to the lazarus pit)
Note: if u wanna see cool art for this AU it's all in the Danny and the little dead girl au tag on my pg!
#dpxdc#dp x dc crossover#dp x dc au#danny phantom#danny fenton#batman#batfam#gotham#batman beyond#if yall didnt know curaré is an assasin from batman beyond#not an oc baby this isnt deviantart circa 2005#i just imagine the bats meeting Danny and him eventually introducing them to his “kid” and just producing this little gremlin#and dannys all like “ isnt she adorable!”#and like yeah shes objectively terrifying looking but also the power of ecto babies is strong#and the batfam is weak#they will adopt jason into their halfa gang dont worry#dc x dp#danny and the little deadgirl au
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26 Ways of Taking You: A for Aphrodisiac
Summary: On a quest to save your little brother, you and your fated companion Dream of the Endless, run into a small problem in Aphrodite's Temple.
Notes: ~2.2k words, GUYS! I finally wrote a fic that wasn't below 500 or above 5,000 words, it just doesn't need any random side characters... or a definitive plot.
Warnings: MDNI - 18+, dubious consent, sex pollen, aphrodisiac (duh), porn without plot, unprotected sex (get tested yearly guys), P in V, no foreplay just straight fucking, Dream is a red flag but he's my red flag. I am willing to die on that hill.
⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄
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“A temple of Aphrodite?” You question as you walk through the marbled entrance. The overwhelming smell of roses fills your senses and the honks of swans disappear as you cross into the building.
Morpheus follows closely behind. The drizzle of rain seemingly bounces off his coat and hair leaving him dry like the Sahara. On the other hand, you, the poor human with no otherworldly affiliations, were soaked to the bone. Your light jacket and sundress stuck to your skin until it became itchy and you quickly take off your jacket to dry easier in the momentary shelter.
You miss the way Morpheus stares at your exposed shoulders and legs. His eyes run up and down your body, to the way the dress sticks to you like a second skin.
“Aphrodite loved Ares, unlike her vowed husband. But such is the game of gods.” Morpheus explains and peels his eyes away from you.
You lean on a large pillar that supports a large brazier, one of many others. The heat helps you warm up and the shivers slowly leave your body as it dries your clothes.
“So, Ares is… here?” You say without much confidence.
When the fates set you out on this quest to find your brother, you hadn’t even packed your lunch yet. They just threw you to the wind and then gave you Morpheus as a guide. As for him, it was so “He could get out of the house more” as his older sister has explained it to you.
So, here you were, soaked in summer rain and sharing conversation with Dream of the Endless on a quest to find your kidnapped brother - all of which happened since this morning. The everything bagel and cream cheese you had for breakfast sat uncomfortably in your stomach, the same stomach that was screaming at you to eat something as your journey had left you to skip the midday meal.
“Ares is behind this gate created by Aphrodite,” Dream sighs as if he were spelling out the obvious. “Yes, it is a possibility.”
You simply roll your eyes. For someone who is almost infinitely older than you, he certainly didn’t act like it. Feeling warmer and dry you started exploring the temple, running your fingers across the divots in the carved stone much like the climbing ivy that decorated the walls.
At the end of the temple stood a magnificent statue of Aphrodite herself, wrapped in cloth and her hair flowing in the wind. Beneath her pedestal, you could make out a rectangular outline made out of large roses.
“Hey! The door!” You exclaim in excitement. As much as you hate to admit it, Morpheus was right. He usually was right but you’d rather keep that comment to yourself, in case the ego inflates any more of his head and he drifts off. Which, would unfortunately leave you on your own to solve these puzzles.
Morpheus appears behind you, peering over your shoulder at the door.
“Seems like a hidden mechanism. It would be wise to not touc-”
You press your palm onto the center of the door and it gives away to the pressure of it.
“You fool!” Morpheus seethes out and you tense.
It seems like a trap, now that you think about it. With bated breath you wait, slowly inching yourself closer to Morpheus in hopes that the King of Dreams may be able to protect you if something were to go wrong.
Yet, nothing.
The door slides back into place, the sound of marble against marble scraping against each other in the otherwise completely quiet sanctuary. The quiet atmosphere stays peaceful for a few seconds but ends when a yelp escapes you when the roses suddenly go into full bloom, the petals giving a “floosh” right in your face, its sweet pollen dusting both of your bodies. You stare wide-eyed at it waiting for anything else to happen. When nothing did, you let out a sigh of relief and turn to Dream with a smile.
“See, nothing to worry about.” You shrug with your palms facing upwards. The two of you stare back as a golden engraving appears on the door.
“One from two, enter together.” You read out loud while trying to dust off the shimmering pollen, sneezing when some enter your nose instead.
Great, a riddle but nothing comes to your mind as you think. Morpheus glares at you still and his eyes drift down to the palm that touched the door.
“Your hand is glowing,” He states.
You look down at your open palm and panic. The skin is bright pink and as Morpheus has stated, glowing. You scream at your hand and shake it aggressively. When the glowing still doesn’t reside you scream again and face the palm towards Morpheus’ face and shake it aggressively to grab his attention.
“Enough,” He commands and grabs your wrist. The grip is stern but it doesn’t hurt and the warmth of his skin calms you down.
It is now that you realize that the skin doesn’t actually hurt. There’s no burning sensation or pins or needles, nothing. Morpheus takes a closer look at your hand and you can feel the exhale of his breath fanning your palm. It tickles and you try to pull away, but his grip doesn’t relent.
“What? Do you see something?” You ask, your other hand is clenched in on itself as a way of grounding yourself.
Morpheus doesn’t entertain you with an answer and instead brings his face closer. A sound that you didn’t know you could produce comes out from your throat as you feel the warm, slick feeling of his tongue on your palm.
“Wha..mm” Your words fall short and he licks again and a whimper leaves your lips. You look up at him, his eyes are closed as he inhales deeply.
He brings your hand to his cheek and leans into it. When you release your hand and he lets you, you see that your glowing mark has smeared to his cheek. You come in closer, nervous about marking the Endless but he stops you again. He peers at you, all silver gone from his eyes and instead blown pupils pull you deep into their voids.
His hands find themselves around your waist and you place your hands on his chest to stop him from invading any more of your space. It doesn’t and he advances still. His brooding act doesn’t help with voicing whatever he could possibly be thinking.
“Hey, what’s gotten into you,” You release a moan at the end when he presses his nose to the junction of your neck. The hot breath released from his mouth had your lower regions start to grow hot and slick.
When his tongue licks the length of your neck, your fingers grasp desperately at the lapels of his jacket, holding on tight as your knee buckle beneath you. Morpheus smelled like grass after a summer thunderstorm and he stood sturdy like an old oak tree.
You whisper his name and his grip tightens more, bruising and unforgiving.
He groans into your neck. “Aphrodisiac.”
Of course, Aphrodisiac, named after the goddess Aphrodite, the very goddess you are trying to please and solve her riddle. The thought crosses your mind momentarily but it is quickly cut short by Morpheus’ continued administration. The pink stain spreads further on Morpheus, anywhere and everywhere you touch him. Your cheek was pink as well, where he touched yours and markings of his tongue glowed pink as he continued his kisses down your neck and across your collarbone.
“Oh, gods,” You moan into his hair as he dives deeper towards your chest. Your body is turning hot and you can’t tell if it’s just the aphrodisiac or the way he is touching you. Perhaps it’s neither, perhaps it’s both. Either way, you can’t stop the sounds that escape your lips.
He presses forward and you step back until your back hits the pedestal and Morpheus’ large frame follows, trapping you between a rock and a harder place. You can feel his erection pressing against your stomach, hot and heavy and begging to be released.
With restraint, Morpheus pulls back and pants into your neck. Your own breath was ragged, your tongue felt heavy when you speak.
“Please,” You whisper, your hands travel down his chest, pink smearing along his black shirt, and cup his erection.
He looks at you now, eyes peering into your soul asking you if you really did want this. You nod, not trusting your voice for a second time.
“Say it,” He commands again, his forehead pressed against yours. “Say it,” He whispers in a plea.
You tip your head up and respond with the strength you have left. “Yes,” You murmur against his lips, barely brushing yours with his own.
He seals the deal with a kiss and hands once again go to your waist. He grabs you, hoisting you up and your legs immediately wrap themselves around his lean torso. You impatiently grind your heat into his as he dips his hands below your dress line and moves your undergarments to the side.
It was rushed, it was sloppy and it was nowhere near romantic, yet you’ve never felt so much excitement. No one was near but the peering gaze of the daunting Aphrodite statue made you feel exposed. Morpheus doesn’t bother to warm you up for him and the heat of his cock presses against your cunt. He pushes forward and it stings. Tears swell in your eyes at the intrusion, his cock splitting you open as he sets a rhythmic pace.
“Forgive me, forgive me,” He chants into your ear but the words fly in one ear and out the other. The pleasure the Dream Lord was giving you more important and present in your mind.
Your hand reaches into his hair and grabs onto his roots. A groan sings from his throat and you can’t help it when your lips connect to his Adam’s apple. You leave bruising kisses along his neck and continuously feel the vibrations of his moans, each one low and gritty.
Morpheus felt like he was about to lose his mind if he didn’t quickly finish the two of you off. His body felt like it was on fire and his head pounded in his skull with ideologies of fucking you until you were nothing but a pile of pleasure. When your nails grip his shoulders, he welcomes the pain and bites down on your collarbone to suppress his wanton moans.
You were too sweet for him, a type of innocence that he didn’t want to taint. Tears well up in his eyes as he realizes that he did it without him even knowing. The aphrodisiac completely consumes the two of you. He loved it, the feeling of your legs wrapped around his waist, your grip on his hair, your moans filling the space and echoing around the temple, but were not his to take.
“More, more, more,” You moan, head thrown back towards the ceiling and he couldn’t deny you the pleasure.
His thrusts become ferocious, slamming into you harder and harder until you were just a babbling mess in front of him. Your words range from his name to curses to simple pleas. The contractions of your cunt spasming around him make him falter for a moment but he presses on. When your orgasm reaches you, your scream is muffled by his open mouth kiss. His thrusts turn sloppy and uneven before he finishes as well and you feel the way his cock pulses within you. His semen drips out of your spent hole and mixes with your release on the polished marble floor.
Your body deflates as the orgasm finishes and you’re left panting and leaning on Morpheus as your thighs tremble around his waist. The door behind you opens with an ungodly scrapping sound and you look behind you. Lust was still evident in your eyes but you were pulled back to the real world again.
The aphrodisiac wore off and a blush rose high into your cheeks. You push against Morpheus’ chest not wanting to be in his space, asking him to put you down, but quickly realize that it was a bad idea when your knees buckle and you start to fall.
Morpheus grabs onto you to steady you and you murmur a thanks, too embarrassed to look at him in the eyes. The aphrodisiac has made you look at Morpheus in a different light, but there were more important matters at hand. You take one steady breath and readjust your underwear and dress, Morpheus releases his grip on your arms as you go to turn towards the open door.
Beyond the door is nothing but darkness with a slight wind blowing out towards you and the smell of metal and leather comes into your nose. Before you can go, Morpheus’ fingers wrap around your arm again.
“Should we… talk about it?” He asks in that low voice of his.
You look back at him, somehow finding the confidence to look at him in the eyes. You find that they are full of adoration and passion that it turns your eyes downwards again. You’ve heard the rumors of what it means to be the lover to Dream of the Endless. It is rainbows and butterflies, the world at the edge of your fingertips, but one wrong move, and you are cast away like you were less than nothing. You think of Nada, Queen of the First People, who is still condemned to Hell for declining his promise to make her queen of the Dreaming.
It’s too much, you have your brother to save, and there is no room to talk about love.
“Later,” You say instead. You still need his help and if the promise of ‘later’ keeps him around long enough until the end of your quest, then so be it.
“Very well. Later,” He repeats then follows you into the realm of Ares.
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This is going to be a 26 part series, all porn, no plot hehe ( ๑‾̀◡‾́)
Until the next fic,
♡ Yours, Layla
#the sandman#dream of the endless#morpheus#morpheus x reader#dream x reader#the sandman fanfic#the sandman x reader#dream of the endless x reader#sandman x reader#morpheus smut#lord morpheus#morpheus x reader smut#the sandman x reader smut#dream x reader smut#sandman smut#sex pollen#aphrodisiac#no plot whatsoever
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stop to smell the flowers ❀ - oscar piastri
Oscar is so incredulously smitten for his girlfriend to the point he doesn't even know how to express it with words- so he does it through actions and gifts. ~ (self indulgent and SO short)
“Baby?” A soft echo of his voice vibrated through the eerily quiet apartment, not a single noise besides his shoes scuffling against the carpet. Oscar set down his bag on the kitchen counter, toeing his shoes off and kicking them to the side.
He waited again for a response from his girlfriend- but to no avail. He raised his voice slightly higher this time, moving closer towards the shut door of their bedroom. Keeping his noise down, Oscar pressed down on the handle of the door, attempting to keep the screeching creak to a minimum so as to disturb her, or wake her if she was currently sleeping.
To his unsurprise, his girlfriend was curled up in bed, her head resting at the very bottom of her pillow. Her bottom lip was puffed out over the top one, lashes sweeping over the tops of her cheeks. The quiet whistle of breathing filled the room, cutting through the silence from a lack of a fan going in the background.
She had her arms wrapped around a teddy bear, pressed into her chest. It was a small fluffy koala, adorned in a custom made McLaren jersey, a black 81 printed on the back. She’d named it Oscar, the teddy she held close to her each night when he was away.
The real Oscar was returning home to Australia and home to his girlfriend after the Miami grand prix, almost a whole month passing since he’d seen her last on the night after the Japanese grand prix, when he’d brought her to the airport to go back to Melbourne, then flying off to China himself.
Due to her being in her last year of university, her availability to go to every race- or even just most- was limited. She came when she could, but it was more often than not that she was at home, cheering him on from the comfort of her own bed or the couch. They'd gotten semi used to the unfortunately forced long distance relationship they now had, but it didn't make it any bit easier each time they had to part. At times, it felt as if each time he had to leave was just more difficult then the last.
She wasn’t expecting him to come back so soon, and nor did he. He fully thought his flight would be the following day and he got comfortable with the idea of a cosy night at the hotel- maybe a call to her and a movie. It wasn’t until Mark had offered the option for him to fly home just a mere four hours after the race ended- he didn’t waste a minute packing his suitcase back up and boarding the flight.
Oscar peeled back the covers on his side of the bed, making sure as to not disturb her in the process. He slid his shirt off over his head, opening up the closet door to find his favourite shirt. Even after a few minutes of searching both the hangers and the drawers without a sight of it, he looked over at his shoulder, smirking when he saw that it was the shirt his girlfriend had chosen for bed today.
Oscar settled for just a plain white top, his ‘OP’ logo imprinted over the left breast. He unbuttoned his blue jeans, allowing them to pool around his ankles until he stepped out, tossing them into the laundry basket. Now dressed in only his boxers and a far more comfortable shirt then the previous ever so itchy team polo shirt, he climbed into bed.
He wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder as he breathed in the sweet, floral shampoo that filled his senses. It was his favourite smell- it smelt of home. He nuzzled further into her neck, pressing a few chaste, open mouth kisses to her soft skin.
Holding back from any serious marking, Oscar mouthed at her shoulder, dragging his tongue gently over the fabric on her shoulder, letting his teeth rub against it. “I missed you, beautiful,” He whispered, kissing up along her neck.
She whined, unconsciously twisting around in the bed to be facing toward him. He took the opportunity to press a few consecutive kisses to her lips, enough to settle the desperation for contact that bubbled hot in his stomach.
Her eyes fluttered, looking as if they would open. “Hi princess,” He tucked some of her hair back behind her ear, nuzzling back into said spot to re-immerse himself in the flowery scent.
“Osccc,” Her voice was thick and groggy with sleep, her eyes open by mere slits in order to block out as much light as possible. “You’re back!” She mumbled with as much enthusiasm as possible while still being mostly asleep.
“Mhmm,” A grin splayed across his mouth, burying his face further into the crook of her neck. “You smell so good,” He kissed the junction of her shoulder, leaving his lips there for a few more seconds.
“Why didn’t you tell me you’d be back so soon? I would’ve stayed up,” She cupped his face in her hands, her fingers temperate against his chilly and rosy cheeks. Oscar gave a weak shrug, ignoring the question in lieu for kissing her more to warm himself up.
“It’s okay- I like this,” Oscar mumbled against her bottom lip, kissing her again and again until his jaw physically ached. “I got you a present,”
She tilted her head back, her left hand still positioned on his jaw- her thumb rubbing over his cheek. “Oh really?” She whispered, giggling as he met her question with a dopey grin.
“In the kitchen,” He rolled away from her, stumbling awkwardly back out of the bed. “C’mon, I promise it’s worth getting out of bed for,” He reassured her when he saw the displeased and unconvinced look on her face.
Begrudgingly, she followed suit- stumbling out of the bedroom door while wiping sleep from her eyes. She clung to Oscar, wrapping both of her arms around one of his, as the bottom of her sweatpants dragged along the wooden floorboard.
“It’s like a welcome home present, but for you- not me,” He handed her a bouquet of an assortment of orange flowers- begonias, marigolds, tulips, poppies. Anything that matched the same papaya colour that she wore across her torso.
Her heart pounded at the gesture, looking up at Oscar with the most fond expression. “Thank you, Oz,” She wrapped one of her arms around his waist, hugging him tightly as her other hand worked on holding the bundle of flowers. “Thank you so much, I love them,” She couldn’t help the smile that stretched from one ear to the other on her face, her body alight with elation.
“Of course, baby,” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, rubbing her back with the hand that held her just as tight as she was holding him. “I think you deserved it with how you’ve been working,”
She scoffed slightly, looking up at him with an incredulous expression. “Me working hard? What about you, Mr ‘Four Podiums in Your Second Year in Formula one?’,”
Oscar gave another mindless shrug, laughing at her comment, “What, like it’s hard?” He teased.
#oscar piastri x original character#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri x reader#fluff#f1 x reader#f1 2024#formula one#formula1#mclaren#mclaren f1
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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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Congrats! How huge! Can I shop?! 🛍️
There's an antique lock and key set and a pair of velvet gloves that look like they have my name written all over them (or a smutty friends to lovers with Steve Harrington where maybe we're partners in a game - drinking game at a rager, yard game at a bbq, board game on a game night, chicken at the pool party...I'm not picky - and celebrating our winning streak gets...a little out of hand 😉😉)
thank you, angel ♥ i got more than a little carried away with this one lol 6.4k words | cw: fingering, oral sex, unprotected sex 18+ only! mdni! literally the smuttiest smut that ever smutted
amy's flea market ♥
"Ready?" Steve asks.
No. Fuck, no.
“Yeah,” you respond. Steve smiles that almost evil smile of his and dives down so you can climb onto his shoulders. Again. You can't believe you're doing this again.
It's the third round of chicken fighting that you and Steve are participating in, and as you climb onto Steve's shoulders, you try not to think that you're climbing onto Steve's shoulders.
Steve. Your friend Steve. The guy you have the world's biggest crush on...no, fuck that. It's more. You know it's more, but you're afraid to admit the stronger word.
Because Steve is Steve. He's off limits.
Which doesn't make it any easier for you to try not to think about the way his big, warm hands are now on your thighs, holding on tight so you don't fall off his shoulders, where you're sitting in nothing but a bikini, his head between your legs...
"1, 2,3...go!" Robin yells, sitting on the edge of the pool with her feet in the water. You raise your arms as the team in front of you advances, the girl's arms stretched in hopes of pushing you off Steve.
But you and Steve are, apparently, invincible today.
It happens faster this time; next thing you know, the girl's grip slips, and you are the one who ends up pushing her into the water, her partner also losing his balance in the process. They laugh and the crowd — including Robin — goes wild. The adrenaline surges through your veins as you realize you've won. Again. Steve keeps you up there for one more moment, just so you can throw your arms in the air, giggling, enjoying your third victory in a row. Then, he carefully lowers you down into the water.
When he emerges again, wet hair sticking to his forehead, he's grinning at you as he grabs your wrist, making you raise your arm one more for the crowd.
You giggle.
Steve sighs. It's that laugh of yours, the one that makes his heart skip a beat every time.
"I think that's enough for today," you say, lowering your arm and grinning up at him, a bit dizzy from the adrenaline of the victory and the heat of the sun on your skin.
Steve suddenly feels dizzy too, for a completely different reason.
He unsuspectingly watches as a fat drop of water travels down your lower lip, to your chin, your neck... and then you turn around, moving in the direction of the pool ladder. Against his better judgment, he follows.
Once out of the pool, you look around.
"D'you want me to grab a clean towel for you?" Steve offers, ever the gentleman.
"Towel, yeah, that would be great..." you murmur, feeling ten times more self-conscious now that the two of you are out of the water. You don't even know most of the people here… "Can I come with you?"
Steve coughs.
The pool party had started earlier that day. The only clean towels remaining in that house now are in his bathroom.
In his room.
And you're all wet.
For God's sake. That's the last place where he should be alone with you right now.
But, like an idiot, Steve nods, "Sure, let's go."
He leads you through the living room, past a group of people who are sitting on the floor, drinking and laughing, to the stairs, taking them two at a time. You're a little out of breath, but manage to keep up with his long strides until he reaches the top. The hallway up here is a lot dimmer, but you can still see the soft, warm sunlight coming from beneath his bedroom door. It's strange how you've never been in his room before. Countless times in his house, sure, but never his room.
Steve clears his throat and then opens the door, stepping aside to let you enter first.
It's... not what you expected. It's not messy like the stereotypical rich boy's room, but it's not pristine either. It's neat, orderly, but... lived in. There's a king-sized bed in the center of the room, covered with a duvet that looks like it's been slept in. A small nightstand on each side of the bed, with a lamp and a few framed photos on top — you're even in some of them with him and the kids. The walls are painted a soft, warm blue, and there's a big window next to the bed, letting in the bright sunlight.
The air smells like... like him. Like soap and hairspray.
Steve clears his throat, drawing your attention back to him. He's still shirtless, so it's not like that's hard to do. "Here, take this," he says, tossing a towel in your direction. You catch it reflexively, feeling the softness of the fabric against your bare skin.
"Thanks," you murmur, rubbing your hair with it.
The sound of laughter from downstairs seeps in through the partly open window. Steve is standing on the other side of the room, a towel loosely draped around his neck, and maybe it's that mysterious drink Robin offered you earlier making you imagine things, but there's a strange tension in the air and you're under the distinct impression that Steve is consciously avoiding you as you dry off.
You wonder what he's thinking.
Steve clears his throat again, seeming to steel himself for something. "Um... I'm gonna go grab a drink. You... you want one?" he asks, not quite meeting your eye.
"Sure. And...can you get my dress? I left it downstairs earlier."
Steve nods, turning away from you so fast you almost wonder if he's mad. He disappears into the hallway, and you hear the click of the door being closed behind him, followed by the distant sound of footsteps as he makes his way downstairs.
Left alone in his room, you wander over to the bed and sit down on the edge, now wrapped in your towel. The duvet is soft against your bare skin, and the pillows smell like him. You can't help but wonder what it would be like to curl up here with him, to feel his warmth surround you as you drift off to sleep.
Probably not the kind of thought you should have in your friend's room.
The door opens again, and Steve steps back in, two glasses of something clear and fizzy in his hand. "Here you go," he says, handing you one of them. You take the drink gratefully, sniffing at it before taking a sip. It's some kind of spritzer, sweet and tangy. "And here's your dress."
It's draped over the curve of his arm. Steve sets his own drink on the nightstand before sitting down on the bed beside you, extending his arm so you could take the dress.
You do take it, but make no move to put it on. "I didn't know you were that good at chicken fighting," you say, trying to make it sound light-hearted.
Steve smiles. "Pretty sure it was all you."
"Of course not," you playfully nudge him. "We're a team."
He looks at you for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, he reaches for his drink and takes a generous sip. "Yeah, a team," he repeats softly.
"What?"
"Nothing."
He studies you for a moment, taking another sip of his drink. The silence stretches between you. You wish you knew what was going through his mind, if he was feeling the same things you were.
"It is something," you quietly insist.
Steve looks at you, his eyes flickering uncertainly. "I don't know what you mean," he says finally, but there's a catch in his voice that betrays him, a hint of vulnerability that you've never heard before.
You stand up. He looks at you like you had just slapped him.
"I'm still wet," you explain. Then, way too quickly for your embarrassment to go unnoticed, you add, "from the pool, I mean! Not...I don't want to make a mess of your bed or anything, you know...I mean, by sitting there while I'm wearing a wet bikini and-"
Steve cuts you off with a laugh. "Hey, hey," he says, reaching out to take your hand. "It's okay. You're fine. You can sit here." He squeezes your hand gently, and there's a warmth in his touch that sends a shiver through you. "And if you did make a mess, I'd clean it up. No worries."
You sit down again. Better than awkwardly standing there.
"Very gentlemanly of you," you murmur, a small smile tugging at your lips.
Steve shrugs, returning your smile. "I'm not that bad, am I?" he asks, his voice teasing.
"The worst. But you're a good partner in chicken fighting, though."
Steve swallows hard.
"Just that?"
There is a moment of silence, as you and Steve stare at each other. You know exactly what he means, what's behind that question, behind the look he's giving you right now, studying your face like it's the first time he's seeing it. At least...you think you know.
He puts his glass aside again. You open your mouth to say something, but he's faster.
"I need to go."
"Wait-"
He doesn't wait. Steve is on his feet in a second, almost at the door in two.
But you, somehow supernaturally faster…you grab his wrist. You grab his wrist with both hands and oh God, Steve's not quite sure what to do with you now. He doesn't respond, doesn't move. You tug at his arm, wanting him to turn around, look at you. He doesn't.
"Steve."
His name feels like a whisper on your lips. It's not loud, but it's urgent.
Steve is having a hard time remembering why he's supposed to keep his distance from you. He turns around to look at you, your hand slipping down to his, still not letting him go…and he realizes it was a bad idea.
The desperation in your eyes mirrors his own, and before he knows what he's doing, Steve is leaning in, hands grabbing your face, mouth finding yours, lips parting.
He's not gentle, not soft.
You moan into the kiss and Steve kicks the door closed without looking, his hands finding your waist as you cling to his neck, the towel falling at your feet. Your lips part and he slips inside, tasting you, feeling the warmth of your breath on his skin as you gasp, stumbling back as he pushes forward.
The bed is soft but cold beneath you as you land, Steve on top of you, pinning you down."God," he groans into your neck. "Sorry."
You giggle. "God, sorry?"
He groans in reply, lips moving against your neck as he continues to kiss his way down your collarbone. "I mean it," he whispers, his voice hoarse with desire. "I shouldn't be doing this."
"M' not...complaining."
Steve laughs roughly into your skin, pressing his lips to the dip between your breasts and finally looking up into your eyes. He pauses for a moment, searching for something there. You can see the uncertainty in his expression, the fear of losing control, of what will happen if he really lets go.
"Do you want me to stop?"
"No," you say automatically.
He chuckles at your answer, a soft, low sound that vibrates through your chest. "You're sure?" he whispers, leaning in to kiss you again, this time softer, slower. "Because I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to take advantage of you."
"How could you possibly take advantage of me?" you ask, sounding almost annoyed.
Steve smiles. "I don't know. I just..." He trails off, pressing a quick kiss to your chin. "I just want this to be right."
You can feel his hesitation, his worry, but you don't want to push him away. You reach up, gently cupping his cheek, and look into his eyes. "I want to."
"You want to?"
"Yes."
There's a moment where the weight of what you've just said seems to press down on Steve, making him pause. He looks into your eyes, searching for any sign of doubt or fear, but finds only the truth. He exhales shakily, looking like it takes every ounce of his self-control to do so. "Tell me you're not drunk."
You reach up, tracing his jawline with your fingers. "I'm not drunk."
"Fuck..." he mutters, trying to concentrate as you trail your fingers down his neck, over his collarbone. "Really? Don't lie to me."
You smile, shaking your head in disbelief. "I'm not drunk," you repeat. "I had like…two drinks. Are you drunk?"
Steve laughs, a choked-up sound. "I've had more than that," he admits. "But I'm…I'm okay." He looks at you for a long moment, like he's trying to commit your face to memory, just in case. Then he leans in, kissing you softly, his lips moving against yours with a tenderness that belies his earlier urgency. "But even if I were drunk, you're welcome to take advantage of me anytime."
You smile against his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I'll keep that in mind," you whisper, feeling a rush of affection for him. Steve groans into the kiss, pressing your back against the mattress as his hips move between your legs. His skin feels hot against yours, his muscles tense, and with nothing but the thin fabric of your bikini bottom and his swim trunks between you, there's little left for the imagination.
"Steve," you breathe out as he kisses his way down your neck, nipping at your skin with his teeth. His name feels heavy in your mouth, like you've been holding it there for years and it's finally been given the chance to be spoken. "Steve…"
"You keep saying my name like that and I'm going to lose it."
You feel the wet heat of his mouth as he kisses his way back down your neck, over your collarbone. His fingers are patient, too patient as they trail up your sides, over your ribs, stopping just shy of your breasts like he's afraid he'll go too far, too fast, too soon.
"Can I-"
"Yes."
His laughter is soft as he pulls back to look at you, eyes half-lidded and mouth slightly parted. He brushes a strand of wet hair away from your face, tracing the line of your jaw with his thumb. "You don't even know what I was going to say."
"What were you going to say?"
He smiles, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. "Something about wanting you. About how I can't believe I'm finally here with you." His fingers drift lower, tracing the curve of your neck before one hooks playfully under the delicate string of your bikini top. "I was going to ask if I could touch you."
You nod, feeling the anticipation building inside you. "Yes," you breathe, arching into his touch. "Please."
His smile is slow, almost wicked. He lets go of the string and instead cups your breast, thumb tracing the hardening peak of your nipple through the thin fabric of your top. Your back arches further, and a soft moan escapes your lips as his fingers find purchase and squeeze. He pulls back slightly, watching as you close your eyes, your chest rising and falling rapidly. "Is this okay?" he whispers, tracing a circle around your nipple with his finger.
"Yes," you manage to choke out.
Steve hums in understanding, his touch growing more confident as he cups your breast in his hand, squeezing gently before circling your nipple with his thumb. The sensation is almost too much, making your hips twitch against his as you arch further into the touch.
He wonders for a moment if he should take it further, if he should untie the knot and push the bikini top down, revealing your breasts to his touch...would you be okay with that? Or should he keep going, teasing you until you beg? His eyes flicker down to your lips, watching as they part slightly with each shallow breath, how your tongue darts out to wet them.
You're so beautiful, he thinks, almost dizzy from the sight of you.
He can feel the warmth between his legs, the insistent pressure as his cock strains against the fabric of his trunks. You'll be the death of him, he's certain. He's already so fucking hard and you're not even naked yet.
He leans in, lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "Can I?"
He kisses your neck, your collarbone, your shoulder. And then his fingers slide lower, tracing the line of your stomach, pausing at your navel…
"Can I touch you here?"
The feel of his fingers tracing the line of your stomach, so close to where you ache for him to touch, is almost too much to bear. You chuckle as you arch your back, offering him more of your skin, more of yourself, then grabbing his wrist when he doesn't seem convinced, guiding his hand lower.
"Please," grinning, you run your fingers through his hair with your free hand, feeling the dampness there as it clings to the strands, "stop asking."
He smiles against your skin, his fingers finding the soft, warm skin of your inner thigh, tracing up and down, so close to where you're aching for him. "You're sure?" he whispers, his voice low and teasing. "You're sure you want this?"
"Steve Harrington, you-"
But you can't even finish the sentence before he's kissing you, his mouth warm and wet and demanding as his fingers finally slip between your legs, sliding beneath the thin scrap of fabric and you gasp into his mouth, arching into his touch, forgetting whatever insult you were going to say.
You feel the rough pad of his index finger against your clit, and then he's pressing, circling, teasing.
"Fuck."
"You're so wet," he breathes, watching your face. "So fucking wet for me, honey, God," His fingers move faster, his touch more demanding as he presses deeper, finding your entrance and circling, circling, wanting to push inside.
You grip the back of his head, your other hand clutching at the duvet beneath you, your hips arching off the bed as his fingers move in a blissful, insistent rhythm. It's been so long since anyone has touched you like this, since you've felt this kind of need and desire, but this…this is even better than you could have imagined. This is Steve, your Steve.
"I want you inside me," you pant before you can think twice about it, your words breathless and urgent. "Please."
Steve hums, his fingers still working their magic as he leans forward, kissing your neck, your shoulder, your collarbone. "I want that too," he whispers, and then he's pushing the bikini bottoms aside, throwing them across the room, revealing your wet, aching folds to his gaze, moving to trail wet, open-mouthed kisses down your stomach, over your hip, and finally to the juncture of your thighs.
Shit. He parts your legs with his shoulders, bending his knees to kneel between them. "Let me make you come first."
With...his mouth?
You prop yourself up on your elbows to look at his face, more than a little self-conscious now. "Wait, but you...you're gonna...?"
He wraps his arms around your hips, holding you still as he leans in, his breath warm against your exposed skin. Curiously, he asks, "You don't want me to?"
You shake your head; no, of course you do. But the idea of him going down on you...it's so intimate. So much more than just having sex. "I just..."
He looks up at you, and there's something in his eyes that makes you forget whatever you were about to say. Something that makes you feel safe and wanted and desired. "You just...?" he whispers, his lips brushing against the soft skin of your inner thigh.
It's hard to concentrate when he does that. You squirm a little, but his hold on you is surprisingly firm.
"I just..." You close your eyes, taking a deep breath. "I just haven't had anyone do that for me in a really long time." It's true; the last time you can remember was with a boyfriend years ago, and even then it was more of a "be polite" thing than anything else. But with Steve...it feels different. "Do you *really* want to? Because you don't have to if-"
You feel him smile against your skin as he continues to gently kiss his way up your thigh. "I want to," he whispers, and the way he says it, the sincerity in his voice, makes you believe him. "I really want to. But, um…only if you want it too."
You open your eyes, watching as he looks up at you, waiting for your answer. He looks so hopeful, so eager. If he wants this, if he wants to make you feel this good...how can you say no?
With a shaky breath, you nod, your fingers threading through his hair. "Okay," you whisper. "Okay."
Steve hums in satisfaction. You feel a shiver run down your spine as he slowly pulls your legs wider apart, resting his elbows on the bed as he leans in closer, his hot breath fanning across your folds. His hands grip your hips, holding you steady as he gazes up at you, watching your reaction, almost daring you to tell him to stop.
You watch, mesmerized, as he tilts his head, licking his lips before he leans in, pressing a gentle, open-mouthed kiss to the very center of you.
Boy... does he know what he's doing.
Your eyes flutter shut as he begins to lick and suck, his tongue dancing over your most sensitive skin, his fingers curling into the flesh of your hips, urging you to arch into his touch. You gasp, feeling your whole body tense, your hands tangled in his hair, your nails almost digging into his scalp. He moans, his breath hot against you, and you realize he's watching your reactions, taking cues from your body.
"Good?" he asks, as if you're not already on the verge of coming.
But you can't answer, can't form a coherent thought, let alone a word. So you nod. Frantically so, head thumping against the mattress. He smiles against your skin like he's won some sort of prize, and then you feel the slip of his fingers, two of them easily sliding inside you, tight but wet enough to be ready. You cry out, his name a desperate plea falling off your lips as he thrusts his fingers deeper, curling them up to find just the right spot.
"Oh, God..." you moan, your hips bucking up against his hand. "Steve..." Your fingernails dig into the duvet, your back arching as he expertly works his fingers inside you.
Steve seems to sense that you're getting close, the way your hips are moving erratically against his hand, the way your breath is coming in short, ragged gasps. He looks up at you for a moment as if to gauge your reaction, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. He keeps his fingers exactly where they are while he leans up over your body to kiss you, propping himself up on one elbow.
"You taste so good," his voice is a whisper against your lips as they part beneath his. "So wet. God, I want to feel you around me."
"Yes, please."
Your enthusiasm makes Steve grin against your lips. "Please?" he muses. He's hard, of course he is hard in his swim trunks, cock straining against the fabric as it leans against your thigh. But he doesn't want to rush this. Not with you.
"Steve," you admonish, sliding your hands up his arms.
His fingers are still moving, but more slowly now, less urgent. It's almost as if he's teasing you, drawing this out. Your hips rock up against his hand, and you feel a surge of wetness between your legs as you arch your back, seeking more contact. His lips find yours again, tongue sliding against yours as he thrusts his fingers deeper, curling them to hit just the right spot. You moan into the kiss, your body trembling as the pleasure builds, your fingers tangled in his hair.
"Oh God," you say in a shaky voice. "Steve, please..."
He groans against your lips, curling his fingers deeper inside you, searching. "Please what?" he whispers as he kisses along your jaw, teasing, not mean, never mean, but drawing it out just a little bit more.
In lieu of an answer, you find yourself arching your back in a desperate manner. His fingers brush against something deep inside you, something that has you gasping and tightening around him, close too close. His fingers find the rhythm you've been craving, your orgasm building, building, building.
"That's it," he whispers against your neck, his own breath hot and uneven. "That's it, baby."
And you do. It's unlike anything you've ever felt before, a rush of pleasure so intense it makes your vision blur, your skin warm all over.
Steve, watching your expression as you come apart beneath his touch, feels the warmth of your release coat his fingers, the tightness of your body around them. God. It's a heady sensation, knowing that he can make you feel this way.
His fingers are slick with your wetness as he pulls them free and gently pushes you back onto the bed. You're lying flat on your back again, and he's grinning as he looks down at you like you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.
"You're...very good at this," your voice is a breathy whisper as you glance up at him, a flush rising in your cheeks. You chuckle, wrapping your arms around his neck, bringing him down for a gentle kiss. Steve's skin is warm beneath your fingertips, his kiss featherlight soft against your lips. "Do you want-"
"Yes," he cuts you off with a husky laugh, leaning down to nip at your neck. "If you do," His hand finds the string of your bikini top, finger following along it all the way up to the bow. With a practiced flick, he undoes it but doesn't yet pull the fabric away, watching your eyes as he lets the knot slide free, half expecting you to tell him to stop. You don't, though. You watch him, your chest rising and falling with every breath, and something in his chest aches at the sight.
"You can take it off," you reassure, feeling a blush creep up your neck. "It's just me."
You hope that comes across as playful and confident, but maybe you don't seem so convincing when you're still a little breathless, a little sensitive, so you decide to take matters into your own hands and reach up, fingers shaking only a little, to pull the cups of your bikini top down and away from your chest.
Steve watches you, his expression somewhere between adoration and awe as you reveal yourself to him like a fucking gift unwrapped.
"You're unreal," he breathes. "You're so..."
When he reaches out to touch, just the very tips of his fingers brushing against the sensitive flesh, you try to encourage him by arching into the contact.
"So fucking beautiful," he whispers, leaning down to kiss your collarbone. "I can't get enough of you."
His hands slide down your sides, over the smooth skin of your hips, and then lower still, cupping your ass. He pulls you closer, pressing your body against his, slowly grinding against you. "Do you want..." he tries, an urgent edge creeping into his voice. "Do you want me inside you?"
Steve looks like he's about to explode at the mere suggestion, his expression a mixture of raw desire and aching need. You're about to reply when he nips at your neck, his teeth grazing the skin there. You momentarily lose your words.
"You're killing me," he half groans, half laughs, his hips moving harder against yours as he pushes himself as close to you as he possibly can. You can feel him through the thin fabric of his swim trunks, hard and insistent, and you're sure it wouldn't take much more of this teasing before he loses control completely. "Just say the word," he whispers, kissing along the line of your jaw, "and I'll give you anything you want."
"Can I...can I touch you?"
You feel Steve stiffen at your request at first, his body tensing beneath your fingers. "Of course you can," he breathes, a shudder working its way through him. "You can do whatever you want, baby."
You reach down, fingers shaky in your eagerness to please. You grasp the hem of his trunk and tug gently, almost hesitant, but he's already cooperating, kicking them off and letting them fall to the floor without so much as a second thought.
"Oh," you breathe, eyes widening as you take in the sight of him, naked and perfect in front of you. Steve's cock is already hard, a bead of pre-cum glistening at the tip, and you can't help but reach out and touch it, tentatively at first, but then more confidently, wrapping your fingers around the base of him and waiting to gauge his reaction.
"Oh, fuck," he moans, closing his eyes as you stroke him. "That feels...that's so good."
Your fingers feel warm and soft around him, and with each gentle stroke, he feels himself growing harder and harder, unable to contain the pleasure building inside of him. He opens his eyes to look down at you, watching your expression as you touch him, your focus solely on the way your fingers slide up and down his length.
Before you can get too carried away, though, Steve's hands are grabbing yours, guiding them away from his cock rather urgently. "If you want me inside you," he pants, a strained smile tugging at his lips, "you're going to have to stop that." His voice is a little shaky, a little rough, and you can tell he's struggling to keep himself in check.
You grin up at him. "I...do want that."
Steve's answering smile is a little more confident now, and he leans forward, brushing the pad of his index finger across your lips, tracing the shape of your bottom lip as he does so. "I think you've had enough teasing today," he whispers, hand moving to cup your neck, his thumb rubbing gently over your pulse point. "You really want this?"
"Yes," you breathe, unable to keep the word from slipping past your lips. "Yeah, I do."
Steve's thumb continues to trace circles around your pulse point as he leans in, pressing his lips against yours. His kiss starts gentle, a mere brush of his mouth against yours, "Yeah? Can I?" sliding his hand down your stomach, between your legs, he adds, "Fuck, yeah, you're...you're wet enough."
You gasp into his kiss as he brushes his fingers against you. "Yeah," you moan, arching your hips up into his touch, with a grin, "Yeah, I am, I...you're gonna make me beg or something, huh?"
"I'd never make you beg for anything, sweetheart."
His fingers move in a slow circle, spreading your wetness around your entrance, making sure you're as ready for him as you can be.
You reach up, wrapping your arms around his neck. You pull him closer as he begins to shift between your legs, his hand coming back up to gently guide himself towards your entrance, and then he looks down at you, searching your eyes for some sign, some reassurance, before he's pushing inside, slowly, gently, taking his time to ease his way into you.
You gasp at the feeling of being stretched, filled, but at the same time it's perfect, it's...right.
He leans forward, bracing himself on his arms, and watches as you arch your back, your lips parted in a silent moan. "More?" he whispers, his voice a rough rasp. "Should I...?"
"More," you breathe, meeting his eyes.
And Steve gives it to you. He slides deeper, pushing in farther, stretching you just enough to make you feel so full of him. You're tight and he's impatient, but he makes sure he doesn't rush, doesn't force it. You feel the muscles in his back and arms tensing as he fights against the urge to go harder, how much he wants to lose control and just fuck you into the mattress.
He takes you like he's been dreaming of it for years, like he's never going to get the chance to feel you like this again. Slowly.
"Steve," his name rolls off your tongue like a sigh the moment he's all the way inside you, your muscles clenching around him in an attempt to hold him close.
He tries to remember how to breathe, pressing his lips to your shoulder. He feels you squeeze around him and muffles a sound between a moan and a growl against your skin, "Can I move?"
"Yes, I...yes."
He pulls back slightly, just enough to adjust his angle, and then pushes back inside you. The sensation is almost too much, the way your body seems to fit so perfectly around him, the way your muscles clench and release, drawing him deeper still. Fuck. You're so wet that he can feel himself sliding easily in and out of you. The sounds of your skin slapping against his is a perfect counterpoint to the gasping, keening noises you're making into his shoulder.
He knows he won't last half as much as he'd like if you keep that up.
"God, that's it," he growls, the words lost in the movement of his hips against yours. "Tell me how it feels, sweetheart." One of his hands slides down between your bodies, cupping your aching clit, rubbing in a tight circle as he thrusts into you. The sensation is overwhelming, too much and not nearly enough all at once.
Your legs twist, one hooking behind his back for leverage, and you arch into his touch, your nails digging into his shoulders as you feel the tension building, the familiar tightness coiling in your core. "So good," you moan, thrusting your hips up to meet his, wanting more of that friction, more of his skin against yours. "Can you go...faster, please?"
He's lost to the sensation of your body moving against his, the feel of you slick and hot and tight. He's close, so close, but he doesn't want this to be over yet. He pulls back slightly, only to slam back in harder, the head of his cock hitting the spot inside you that makes you arch your back and gasp.
His hand moves faster on your clit, circling and pressing, and you're so close now, so close, you can feel it building, making you shiver and writhe underneath him. Steve leans down, lips finding the skin of your neck, sucking and nipping as he thrusts harder, deeper, faster.
"Yes," you moan, arching into his touch, your nails digging into his shoulders. "Fuck, yes."
Steve lets his hand move from between your legs to the back of your knee, hooking it there, holding you open to him as his cock slides in and out of you with a harsh, wet sound. You feel so full of him, stretched and sore and aching in the best way possible.
He's so close now, the tension in his body almost painful as he fights against the urge to come before you do. Steve watches your face as you writhe beneath him, lips parted and flushed, eyes glazed over in pleasure like you can't quite focus. It's the most erotic thing he's ever seen. He doesn't want this to end. Being inside you like this, feeling the way you move against him...he doesn't think he'll ever get enough.
Your nails scrape down his back, leaving little red lines in their wake. Steve thinks he's going to lose it every time you do that.
"Fuck," he groans, the word caught in his throat as he thrusts harder into you. The sounds of your skin slapping against his makes it almost unbearable and he has to think of something else, anything else, to keep from coming. "Feels good, sweetheart?" he whispers, his hand moving between your legs again, this time finding your clit and rubbing in a steady, circular motion.
You arch into his touch, your hips moving in time with his thrusts. "So close," you moan, your voice shaking. "I...I..."
Steve feels the tension building inside you, knows that you're close. He watches your face, the way your eyes have almost rolled back in your head, the way your lips are parted and your breath coming in quick, shallow gasps.
He leans down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and teasing as pushes inside to the hilt, holding you there, feeling your body trembling beneath him. You cry out then, your back arching off the bed, and Steve feels you tighten and pulse around him, gripping him like a fist as you come.
The sensation is almost too much, but he somehow manages to ask, "Can I come inside you?"
You nod, your eyes closed tightly, and he thrusts once, twice…then one last time, feeling himself spill inside you as he moans, body tensing and then relaxing, spent.
Steve collapses on top of you without pulling out, sweaty bodies sticking together. He somehow finds the energy to kiss your shoulder, your neck, your ear, nibbling and sucking until you laugh, shifting beneath him.
"You're heavy," you tease, but you don't really mind. It feels right to have him pressed against you like this, his heart thumping against yours, his breath warm on your skin.
He chuckles, nuzzling deeper into the crook of your neck. "Sorry," he mumbles, before pulling himself up enough to look down at you. You're beautiful, even with your hair tangled and your lips swollen from his kisses. "Do you want to get cleaned up?" he asks, running a hand through his sweaty hair.
"I think I love you."
The words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them, and for a moment, you're not sure if you should take them back. But then Steve's eyes widen, his lips part in surprise, and you know it's too late. You've said it.
"Sorry, I shouldn't...I mean, I-"
Steve cups your face in his hands, his eyes wide and serious. "I love you too," he says, his voice a little unsteady. "I have for a long time."
He leans in, pressing his lips to yours gently, then more firmly, as if he's making sure this is real, that you feel it too.
But you feel it too.
God, you feel it too.
#🏷️ amy's flea market#steve harrington smut#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington#steve harrington x you#steve harrington oneshot#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington angst#steve x you#steve x reader#stranger things fanfic#stranger things imagine#steve harrington drabble
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Secret
Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Baby!Reader
Summary: Ingrid's got a secret
"Skatten min," Ingrid coos to you softly," It's okay. It's okay. Let's try and calm down."
You whine helplessly against her, knocking your head against her collarbone as you suckle randomly.
"Skatt," Ingrid laughs," You're not getting milk out of there."
You don't know any different and suckle a bit harder. It's not exactly ideal but Ingrid's happy that you're no longer crying.
You've been tearful ever since she came home from training, wanting nothing more than to be close to her. Usually, Ingrid would give in to your demands but she'd had a meeting with a media outlet back home so had to put you down.
You whined and cried to entire time and have only now quietened.
You were not the most clingy of babies but now that you had both made the move to Spain, something must have flipped in you.
It was hard going. It wasn't that Ingrid was trying to keep you a secret (it's not like you were really a secret if Frido knew who you were) but it was easier to keep football separate from her private life.
Here, at home, it was just you and her and no language barrier to navigate. It was nice and sweet but sometimes Ingrid missed the companionship of people in the apartment.
Frido came over sometimes, always to see you and try to convince you that she was the cooler Scandinavian but no one else on the team knew about you so getting people to come around without blowing the big secret was kind of difficult.
"You calm now, skatt?" Ingrid teases as she sits down on your playmat and draws some toys closer. You reach out easily for your plastic ladybug, hitting the button that makes it sing happily.
You giggle when it starts to sing, babbling along surprisingly in tune for someone so little while Ingrid sings along to the actual words. It's your favourite toy of all time even though Ingrid hates it because it's always so loud.
It's so loud in fact that Ingrid almost doesn't hear the doorbell ring. It goes twice in a little tune and she gets to her feet.
You screech when she moves away but she soothes you with a fond swipe over your hair and an offer for your dummy. You suck it into your mouth quickly, bobbing it rhythmically before smacking your ladybug again.
Ingrid rolls her eyes at you with a little smile before pulling open the door. She expects it to be a delivery man. Her mother has been quite vocal in her annoyance about Ingrid still playing football abroad when she had such a little baby to look after so she had been sending regular gift boxes to the apartment.
She's already reaching for the pen to sign for the package when she realises that it's Mapi.
She freezes.
Ingrid likes Mapi (maybe more than likes her) and her day always brightens after seeing her but there was no reason for Mapi to be waiting outside of her door.
"Has something happened?"
Mapi looks a bit embarrassed to be waiting outside and she clears her throat, holding up a tin. "I made too many cookies," She says," I was wondering if you wanted any."
The tin looks suspiciously like one you buy at a supermarket and the cookies look completely uniform as well, like they've been bought rather than made at home.
"Oh..." Ingrid's face goes a little red like Mapi's too. "Thank you." She takes the tin, brushing her hands against Mapi's with a small smile.
They stand awkwardly on the doorstep, just staring at each other before Mapi jumps out of her skin as the annoying jingle of your ladybug filters through the door.
You screech your own babble to it before there's a loud crash.
Ingrid turns immediately to investigate and Mapi slips through the door before she notices.
"Skatten min," She sighs," You're not meant to throw your toys."
Your ladybug is sitting upside down quite a way away which is fairly impressive for a five-month-old to do. You're still singing along to it though, clapping your hands to the tune and then getting distracted by the fact that you have feet.
"That's a baby. Whose baby is that?"
Ingrid doesn't realise that Mapi is even there until she speaks. She knows the jig is up now and the number of teammates who know about your existence climbs from one to two as Mapi stares down at you.
"My baby," Ingrid admits as she puts the tin of cookies on the counter. "Mapi, this is y/n."
You recognise your name, turning your head to look at her before going back to inspecting your feet.
"A baby," Mapi says again," You have a baby?"
"Yes." Ingrid knows she's being a little bit rude but Mapi's yet to say anything of substance on the matter and she'd rather go in defensive and be surprised rather than calm and end up in an argument.
"But..." Mapi stares at you. "She's so little." She squats down in front of you and waves. "Hola."
You look at her strangely before bum shuffling over to your ladybug, hitting it repeatedly even though it's upside down and you can no longer reach the button.
"Does she not like me?"
Ingrid has to admit, the pout on Mapi's face is adorable. "She likes no one more than that stupid ladybug."
You've worked out how to flip it over again and finally slam your hand on the button, sending it into a new wave of the song.
"She's adorable," Mapi says, standing," Why haven't we seen her before?"
Ingrid shrugs. She doesn't really have a good excuse so she settles on the one that she used on Frido. "It's a hassle, isn't it? There would be no one to watch her if I took her to practice."
"We can all watch her!" Mapi insist, suddenly looking very excited," Someone's always injured so they can take her! Oh, please, Ingrid! She's so cute! She can be the team mascot."
"I don't know..." But Ingrid does know. She's been wanting to take you to practice for a while now but she'd always chickened out, deciding that it was too late to come clean about her little secret.
"Please!" Mapi begs, already moving away to sit next to you. "I promise that there'll be someone to watch her. We can use her as a weight at the gym!"
You look at Mapi oddly again, confused by this strange girl with pictures on her body. You don't do anything though, just hit your ladybug when the song stops and poking at your own feet.
She starts clapping along to the tune though. Mapi doesn't sing like Ingrid does (mainly because the words are in Norwegian and she doesn't know that) but she still tries to engage with you.
You let her and then clamber a bit closer. You're still occupied by your ladybug but you do sit yourself in Mapi's lap and she takes that as a win.
"I guess..." Ingrid says as she watches the way you take Mapi's hand, forcing her touch the button now. "Maybe next week. And only for a few hours."
"Yes!" Mapi pumps her fist into the air before looking down at you. "Did you hear? You're coming to training soon!"
You ignore her, focussed entirely on your ladybug.
#woso x reader#mapi leon x reader#mapi leon#ingrid engen x reader#ingrid engen#woso community#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso
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Would you write one where simon's wife is about to give birth and they're gonna give her an epidural but she's so scared and starts clinging to him?😢
Epidural
Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x fem!reader
Summary: You're about to get an epidural, and fear seems to overtake you.
a/n: I'm so sorry this took so long. I just had no idea how to write this since I have never had an epidural or given birth myself. In the end, I decided to keep the process as non-detailed as possible because I didn't want to get anything wrong. But please correct me if I got something wrong. This is not my best work either, I'm really sorry.
In a dimly lit hospital room, the air was thick with tension as Simon stood by your side, his fingers intertwined with yours as you squeezed his hand every now and then out of fear.
From the moment the word 'epidural' left the mouth of one of the nurses, you were terrified. You were about to give birth to your first child, and just the thought of the needle made you feel nauseous.
"Simon, I don't know if I can do this," you whispered, almost breaking down in the middle of your sentence. Your heart was beating so fast that you were afraid it would stop at any moment, and the pain you were feeling didn't make it any easier.
Simon squeezed your hand and began to run his thumb over the back of your hand. "It's going to be okay, I promise," he kissed the top of your head as he continued, "I won't leave your side no matter what, break my hand if you have to. I wouldn't mind."
His serious tone made you chuckle at his words for a second, but even that was short-lived as you winced in pain.
"Si-" but before you could continue, one of the nurses approached you with a sympathetic smile on her face. "Mrs. Riley, it's time for the epidural," she said gently, and even though she sounded kind, you couldn't help the fear that grew as your grip on your husband's hand tightened.
Simon was sure you were going to break his bones today, but he would let you, as long as he could finally see you smile when this was over.
He leaned down to whisper in your ear, "You're going to be just fine, sweetheart. The doctors know what they're doing, I promise."
Hearing his words made you close your eyes for a second as you nodded, wanting it to be over as soon as possible before you scared yourself any more.
Simon slowly led you to the edge of the bed. The anesthesiologist spoke reassuringly, explaining each step of the epidural administration. And despite the explanations, you couldn't really concentrate, not even sure if it was because of the contractions you were feeling or because of your fear.
Your husband pulled up a chair next to the bed, his calming presence offering a sense of security. Your eyes locked with Simon's, silently pleading for reassurance as he brushed a strand of hair from your forehead, his voice calm and soft. "I'm right here, love. You're stronger than you think, and our little one will be here soon."
As the needle approached, your grip on Simon's hand tightened again, causing even Simon to whimper in pain. He was sure that at least one of his bones was broken now.
The nurse and anesthesiologist worked efficiently, their experienced hands moving with precision, while Simon continued to murmur words of encouragement, his focus solely on comforting you.
And as the epidural took effect, a wave of relief washed over your face. The tension in your body began to ease, and you nestled into Simon's embrace. The room seemed a lot less tense now as Simon gave you a kiss on the cheek.
In the hours that followed, your husband stood steadfastly by your side, never once leaving your side.
"I'm so sorry," you mumbled apologetically as you held your newborn in your arms.
"Don't apologize, dear. It doesn't even hurt," Simon said while he examined the poor state of his broken hand.
"Liar," you whispered.
He looked at you with narrowed eyes, his expression was enough to tell you that he denied what you had just said.
"I heard you whimper!"
"No, you didn't!"
#cod x reader#ghost x reader#ghost x you#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x y/n#simon riley x you#ghost x y/n#simon x reader#simon ghost riley imagine#simon ghost x you#simon ghost riley oneshot#ghost imagine#ghost dad#cod x you#cod imagine#call of duty x reader#call of duty x you
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omg hi, i love your writing and saw requests were open for cod. i was wondering if you could write something where reader and simon are in an established relationship (can either be public to the team or a secret) and they are on a mission. reader has a scare during a mission and ghost has an “i almost lost you” moment with her.
Anyone But Her
Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader
Genre: Hurt/Comfort
Their line of work has never guaranteed the assurance of coming home, but that doesn't make the fear of loss any easier to deal with, especially not when it happens right in front of his eyes.
Masterlist
If asked where one feels the most comfortable, people who respond with something like 'home' or 'the beach', something achievable and wholly normal.
Her? There was nothing more comforting than the feel of hot metal in her tight grip during a mission, the easy reloading of her sniper almost by muscle memory as she gazes down the scope. The commands, the back and forth with tasks and delegations, and the constant movement and adjustment needed to bring home a victory is what keeps her on her feet.
"In position on first building." Ghost's rough voice travels through the comms, bringing her attention away from the scope she's looking down. Laying down on the top of a hill, spotting the other members as they infiltrate a Russian warehouse, was an easy job. In and out before they realised that the team was even there.
It's an ugly thing, what the 141 deals with, but it's so far set from what normal is that she's long since accepted that there's no going back.
Part of her is glad she hadn't tried. If there was never a chance she'd have been selected for this squad, she never would have met the enigma that is Simon Riley.
Standoffish, brash, deadly.
Understanding, confident, loving.
They'd butted heads on her first day harsher than any of the others ever had, and after an order from Price to resolve their tension lest it interfere mid battle, the both of them had come to realise that they had much more in common than they thought.
The rest had been history. They already moved in sync on the field, and after a try they'd discovered they worked just as well together as something more than teammates. It was hard to keep things professional with glances so heated and words that no friend would ever offer each other.
Some of the things he's said to her in the heat of the moment and the privacy of their quarters makes blood rush to her cheeks just thinking about it.
She was just a precaution, really. A failsafe, because the odds may be in their favour but they were never always truly compliant.
"Breaching second on your command." Gaz's voice relays through.
"Sergeant, how are things from above?"
"All clear, L.T." She says, doing another final sweep of the grounds. "No visible hostiles near your vicinity." The good news is delivered with an undertone of caution.
If their intel was correct, this warehouse should be housing stolen US documents, information that could deal real damage to their operations if transported farther than it already had been.
So where were all the soldiers?
The only ones she sees are a few mulling around the grounds, three by the radio tower nearby and another few near the vehicles at the back of the compounds. Surely such valuable intel would be more heavily guarded?
Her gut speaks to attest that something is wrong, but before she can bring it to light, Ghost and Soap, and Gaz and Price breach the doors of their respective warehouses.
"Copy." Ghost rasps. "Breaching now." She pauses for a moment to fiddle with her comms unit, the voices filtering through to her earpiece crackling in a way they shouldn't be if the device was fully functional.
Looking down her scope, everything seems normal. The grass swaying in the wind, the silence that follows and-
Silence?
She stiffens at the sudden lack of noise. It was too still, the clam before the storm. Hand flying to her comms, she speaks into the device;
"Ground team, how copy?"
Static. Then silence.
Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she repeats herself louder, more firmly, frowning where there's nothing but muted static and crackling. She does another sweep of the facility with her sniper. All seems quiet until her gaze focuses on the radio tower.
Adjusting her scope's distance, her mouth goes dry when she realises exactly what the three at the base of the structure are holding. A device she herself has used many times during missions like these.
A jammer.
Sudden movement makes her eyes snap back to the vehicle form before. Her stomach drops as the doors to the truck swing open and soldiers armed to their necks pour out, spreading all over the facility.
An ambush. They knew they were coming. Jammed their comms to isolate them and hide their forces until the others entered the warehouses probably. Surrounded. They'd be surrounded in mere minutes if they didn't do something.
Her comms are useless, so she can't warn them, and can only watch in muted horror as they start to scatter around the building.
Fuck.
She can't take out the three men at the tower from here. That wouldn't stop the device and only act to reveal her position. Hands-on was the only way.
Slamming her sniper onto the strap on her back, she extracts her pistol, breaking into a harsh sprint down the hill. There was no time, she had to warn them herself. To hell with staying out of sight.
The 141...they were like family to her. Soap and Gaz's constant cheeky remarks and antics, Price's steadfast and reliable leadership, Ghost...Simon's patience and understanding, his muted passion and actions that when decoded conveyed more love than anybody had every offered her.
The day her team took a loss would not be today. Not like this. Not when she could help it.
Finding herself in the middle of the compound by ducking and staying out of view, she kneels behind a crate, unhooking one of her frag grenades, pulling the pin out with her teeth.
This would give away her position, a dangerous gamble while hostiles surrounded her from all sides, but what better way to alert battle-ready soldiers than with the bang of a grenade. A sounds they knew all to well.
She'd just have to hold her position until they could regroup. She's done tougher things before, and this was so or die right now. With the thought in mind, she steels herself and tosses out the grenade at the most densely packed area of soldiers, clenching her jaw and taking cover at the resounding bang that cracks through the air.
The gunfire follows soon after.
Her comms crackle, evidence that someone's trying to reach her, but with the jammer not sounds can be deciphered.
Soldiers yell, and fire at her location, the heavy thudding of footsteps on either side of her clueing her into their intentions to flank her sides and gun her down. Returning fire, she ducks between the crates to make her way to the radio tower, just a couple of metres away. Bullets clink and bang and ricchoet of fthe metal around her, but miraculously, she's mostly unscathed as dives behind a vehicle and takes down the three men aiming their rifles at her.
The jammer lays at the feet, blinking green.
Right in the middle of the open field. She had to get there, had to get it off so they could all communicate with each other and move smoothly. There was a higher risk of casualties if one moved without the knowledge of the others.
Unpredictability was the worst of enemies in the field.
Steeling herself for going out in the open under the inevitable spray of bullets, she unclips a smoke grenade and tosses it, holding her breath as acrid smoke obstructs everyone's vision. Stumbling into the mess, she keeps low to the ground to avoid the blind fire into the smoke and feels around for the device.
Her hands curl around the metal and she sprints back to cover.
She doesn't make it.
Their blind fire proves effective, as a bullet rips through her shoulder, another one through her calf wrenching out a choked scream from her. The smoke was slowly dissipating, and pretty soon visibility would be back and then any bullet wounds she'd sustain would not be as unfatal.
Panic claws up her throat, but years of practise allow her to swallow it down. She pulls herself up, but groans and collapses, her leg unable to support her weight and her shoulder unable to drag her across the ground.
Shit, shit.
Her breaths come ragged and uneven, her knuckles turning white with the harsh grip on the device. Changing courses, she brings the jammer close to her, focusing on it instead, turning knobs and pressing buttons.
If she bit the bullet here, she'd damn well do so making sure the others stayed alive.
The second the jammer switches off, voices filter through her comms, a flurry of mixed yells, gunfire and pounding footsteps.
"Sergeant?!" A familiar voice barks down the line, hoarse...worried? "Are you down?"
Lightheaded, feeling blood soak through her clothes, she can't bring herself to respond. The smoke starts to clear and the best she can do is shift herself behind a tree a few feet away, leaning against the thick trunk for cover while unable to grasp her weapon through the slippery bloody coating her hands.
Was it normal to have that much blood? Feeling a little delirious, she drops her weapons besides her and presses down hard on the wound on her leg, biting back a groan. Gunfire pings around her, gunpowder and smoke acrid in the air.
It's only when Ghost snaps her name through the comms does she come back to herself a little.
"I'm..." She squeezes her eyes shut trying to get her tongue to form words. "I'm down. Bleeding out near the radio tower. Fuckers jammed out comms. Ambush. Had to...had to warn you. Had to fix it." She coughs, spitting into the ground beside her as blood trickles down her chin.
Definitely not normal.
Swallowing is hard, her thoughts swim as the grass beneath her is stained crimson. Her body feels too heavy, head to light and she wonders if this is really the end.
Someone speaks through her comms, words to muddled in her head to make out. Gaz? Or was that Price? Maybe Soap? Or Simon?
God, what she wouldn't give to hear Simon again, just once. Her eyes flutter shut with a groan. Just once more. She just wants to hear that gruff voice one more time through the comms, saying her name. He's never told her he's loved her verbally, even when she expressed it herself, but words haven't ever been his strong points.
His actions spoke far far louder.
The ways he's memorised all her little routines, her favourite foods, her favourite activities, the particular way she likes to store and clean her weapons. the silent moments at night where he pulled her close and the shared a book together, the nights spent together in bed where he showed her that he was not lacking in love when it came to her.
Simon Riley had left a mark on her life that she wore with pride, and if this...this meant that he lived on another day. She grits her teeth, shallows pant soft breath as blood pools between her fingers.
Then it was damn well worth it.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
An unstoppable force by nature, Ghost is the scariest anybody's ever seen him right now.
That last comms transmission from her had made his heart practically stop in his chest, even if he was as apathetic as ever from the outside. He had called out to her again, demanded she stay awake and give a precise location but no matter how much he shouted and order through the comms he was met with a deafening silence.
Silence that suggested the worst.
Fuck, no. No way. This wasn't happening, this simply wasn't something Simon would allow to happen.
Not her. Not any of them, really, but especially not her. Not her soft smiles and meaningful glances, not when she made him feel as if he might not break everything he comes into contact with.
Not when she was the only one who's ever coaxed out Simon Riley from Ghost.
His actions grow harsher, more brutal. The moment he hears she's near the radio towers bleeding out, he's a man on a mission, and none of the others make a peep of protest as he clears the way through to her, a spartan leaving a trail of blood behind as he moves.
He does not rage. Rage implies something uncontrolled and fierce. No, this is not rage. This is something much colder, much more calculating. Every throat that he slashed with his knife, every bullet that lands home in a skull is done with precision and deadly force. He means every bit of hurt he causes, hurt that stems from his own panic at her sudden silence.
This was not rage. This was icy cold desperation disguised as cool anger.
He's the one who finds her after everybody spreads out to clear the facility.
Back to a tree, eyes closed, hands limp at her side.
She might have been sleeping if not for all the fucking blood.
Dropping down beside her, he shakes her shoulder firmly, calling out her name.
"Wake up, Sergeant." He orders, eyes raking over her figure to find the source of her injuries. His jaw ticks as he notes the two fresh wounds. She doesn't move when he extracts a rolls of gauze from his belt, doesn't flinch when he tightly wraps her injuries.
Does not wake up to notice how his hands are shaking as he ties the final knots.
"Wake up." He says, voice much lower, something deeply needing. Shifting closer, he pulls her into his arms, away from the rough bark of the tree. Her head falls to his shoulder limply, making his breath hitch, true, cold fear gripping his heart. "Wake up, sweetheart, c'mon." He urges. She's still alive as per the shallow rise and fall of her chest, but she won't fucking wake up and it's killing him, making panic claw at his throat because not her, not her, not her.
Reaching around, he pinches her sternum hard, relief slamming into him when she finally groans and whimpers, a weak hand reaching up to push his away. "That's it, love. There you go." He mutters praise, hooking an arm under her legs and hoisting her up, carrying her. "Keep those eyes open for me, yeah? Don't you dare fucking close them, you hear me?" His accent is thicker than normal
"..Simon?" She groans, barely a whisper, making his heart wretch painfully.
"It's me." He confirms, clutching her tighter as he makes his way back to the exfil he'd ordered Gaz to request. The heli stand waiting near the first warehouse, a mass of dead bodies paving the path for them to step over. "I've got you, love. Stay with me, just a little longer.
He doesn't know if she can hear him let alone understand what he's saying, but it seems to work, her groggy gaze taking in their surrounding, watching but not really seeing.
She shoves at his chest suddenly, weak but firm. "No...you gotta-they're here." She rattles in a breath that makes even him wince. "Ambush, Simon. Gotta-get yourself out."
"Fucking hell woman, you think I'd leave you?" He hisses, hiking her up closer so their bodies are pressed together. He feels a rush of anger peer through the crushing panic and worry he's beating down.
"No time." She breathes. "Leave-"
"Not another word." He warns, angry at the thought that she'd even think for one moment that he'd let her die on his watch, that he'd ever leave the one good thing in his life.
Her compliance scares him to the bone.
Simon practically runs the last few meters towards the evac heli, barking out instructions for a medic as they bring out a stretcher. Gently, an action so at odds with the flames burning through his veins, he lays her down on it, staying by her side as they hoist her inside.
The jolting makes her whimper, aggravating her injuries no doubt. "Careful," Simon demands, and a single glare from him is enough to make the team move her with much more cautiousness.
The team clamours in and it's not long before they're all in the air.
A silence is passed around the space, an acknowledgment and shared anger at her state, how she was riddled with bullets like a target because of her selfless nature to save and give.
They hadn't gotten the intel, but Simon has never given less of a shit about anything before, not when she's laying next to him pale and trembling, looking up at him as if he might be the one to make her pain go away.
May God strike him dead if he doesn't try his fucking hardest.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
The steady beep on a heart monitor and the sharp smell of antiseptic is what slowly brings her back to the living world. She feels...
Well she feels like shit.
That's kind a given though, judging by how she determines by the scratchy sheets under her that she's in a hospital bed. One would be more disorientated by waking up like this, but she's seen her fare share of white bedspreads and jello cups.
Finally gathering up the courage to blink her heavy eyes open, she squints at the ceiling light, slowly getting her bearings.
They were...on a mission. She tries to recall. Warehouse. Men. Jammer...
The jammer! Were the others alright? All she remembers is passing out by the tree and-what else?
Alarm ringing through her, she moves to sit up but immediately groans at her body protesting, her limbs burning at the movement. Shoulder and leg tight with stitches, she tries to force herself to sit up when a large, warm hard pushes her back down.
"Easy does it. Lay still for me." The familiar voice washes away the alarm and when she slowly, groggily turns her head, there sits the one person she wanted to see.
Simon sits beside her bed, looking ragged and poorly even beneath his mask. She can see it by the tension in his shoulders.
"Wh-" She trails off, coughing and wincing at the pain in her dry throat. There's a rustling, and then a hand at the back of her neck, guiding her lips to a cup full of cool water. "Drink." Simon says simply, helping her swallow the liquid until she pushes on his hand.
"What happened?" She finally manages, meeting his eyes. "You look...like shit. You okay?"
Amusement may have flickered into those eyes of his, but it's next to nothing with the other concoction of worry in his eyes.
For someone so stoic, he had very expressive eyes if you knew how to read them.
"Am I okay?" He stares in disbelief. "Considering I didn't get shot twice and nearly bleed out, I'd say I'm doing better than you."
"Ever the comedian." Her joke doesn't crack a smile from him and that's when she knows something is truly wrong. "Simon what-"
The scrape of his chair cuts her off as he stands abruptly, moving over to her side. He seems hesitant for a split second, arms pausing as they reach out.
He decides to push away the doubt, however, because moments later, strong arms are wrapped around her, pulling her into him. She relaxes at the familiar scent of him, of his clothes as he tucks his chin over her head.
His heart is racing under his cheek, her fist loosely gripping his shirt.
She knows he'll speak in time, that she just has to wait for him to gather the words and decide how to express them out loud. So she does exactly that. She waits while he regulates himself, gathers his thoughts.
His arms tighten around her. "Thought I lost you." He says, and if it had been anybody but her, they might have missed the slight tremor in his voice. "When I saw you bleeding out against that tree...Fuck, I thought you were gone."
"Not that easily." She hums, pressing into him further. "Never than easily."
"Better fucking not be." It coaxes a hoarse giggle from her, what he growls in her ear.
"I'm alright, Simon." She assures him gently. "Alive and kicking."
He nods against her head minutely, his lips pressing against her head through his mask, a gesture that makes her melt because if Simon was resorting to such a thing he must have really had a scare. He hated PDA and although they were the only ones in the room, normally they reserved this kind of intimacy for their own rooms when they're alone together.
He stays like that for a while, convincing himself that she was there, that she was alive and breathing and in his arms and untouchable as of now. All the while she runs a soothing hand up and down his strong arms, mumbling assurances of their safety.
She'd do it again in a heartbeat, would put herself in harms way to save her team, but as she sits there pressed against him, the sun spilling into the room warming it with it's rays, she can't help but think of how thankful she is to have felt this again.
To have the chance to continue experiencing the protective love of Simon Riley.
Requests Are Open!
(25/06/2023)
#fanfic#cod#simon ghost x reader#ghost call of duty#ghost cod#ghost mw2#ghost simon riley#simon ghost riley#ghost#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost posts#ghost x y/n#ghost x reader#simon riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#modern warfare price#modern warfare x reader#modern warfare fanfiction#call of duty modern warfare 2#modern warfare 2#modern warfare imagine#fanfiction#fluff#angst#x reader#x y/n#cod mw22#cod fanfic#cod headcanons
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My life is falling apart - could you write how Ghost might save reader from her emotionally abusive and toxic husband? I thank you, maybe one day I'll have someone like Simon.
Whoever you are, I'm here for you if you need to talk. Stay strong sweetheart, this too shall pass. 💖
CW: Emotional abuse, toxic relationships, hurt/comfort, protective Simon Riley.
Simon had sneaked his way into your life with the same stealth he uses on missions— a man who barely spent any time at his apartment and was always away for what he said was just ''work''. The same man who after a few conversations, started bringing you small gifts from his missions, always something different that he thought you'd like.
Simon isn't dumb— far from it, he's always aware of his surroundings and throughout the years, he knows how to read people well. That's why it breaks him to see the way your smiles now came accompanied with a nervous look in your eyes whenever your husband was home, despite you and Simon simply being friendly towards one another.
Whenever he was back at his apartment, he started listening more and more. Paying even more attention to you, ear pressed against the wall while he listened to your husband berate you for a plethora of reasons, all of them more absurd than the other, the truth heavy on his shoulders, weighting him down like Atlas holding the sky.
Oh, how he wanted nothing more than to go inside your house and ravage your husband the same way he does so casually in the battlefield— but he can't. Simon Riley is not Ghost. Simon has to lay low, to ensure both his safety and yours, so he starts planning. Planning how to approach the issue, how to get you out of the situation and understand you better. He'd never admit it, but he spent the entire night reading the experiences of other married women when it comes to abusive marriages, restless dreams full of ideas on how in the bloody hell he'll get you out of this.
He waits until the next day once your husband leaves for work, waiting out five minutes that feel eternal just to make sure he doesn't come back. Unmasked and with very faint stains of eye black that he never seems to be able to fully remove, he knocks on your door. You answer with teary eyes, sniffling softly as you try your best to give him a small smile, yet he can see the pain. The same pain he saw in his mother's eyes his entire life.
''Simon!'' You greet, moving aside so he can enter your house, closing the door behind you as you both go to the living room.
''Would you like a cuppa?'' You offer and it takes him a few seconds to decide, ultimately nodding his head. Maybe this will be easier if you're both having a nice, warm drink. You come back minutes later with a tray and some crumpets, something you started buying when he casually mentioned liking them.
''Thank you.'' He takes a sip of the perfectly made chamomile tea, done the way he loves it— with two teaspoons of honey and hot. You give him a happier smile, the warmth of his presence wrapping around you like a secure blanket, a far cry from your marriage.
''Love...'' He begins and your full attention goes to him, noticing his serious tone and pensive expression.
''There's no easy way to say this, but with this place having thin walls, I sometimes hear things I shouldn't.'' You immediately know what he's talking about, but before you can apologize on behalf of your husband, he keeps speaking.
''You deserve so much better.'' He puts his cup down, eyes looking down to his hands— the hands he keeps ungloved just for you, the hands that are protected by his skull gloves whenever he's out in missions, so he can come back to you free of sin. He sits down next to you, one of his arms wrapping around your back reassuringly.
''Why are you still with him?'' There's a hint of desperation in his tone, thin eyebrows furrowed as he looks at you. You want to look away, but his brown eyes are almost hypnotic. So expressive, so telling whenever words aren't enough.
''I... I don't know.'' You reply with honesty, tone strained as you hold back tears and try to dig into your brain for any reasons you're with the man, yet nothing comes up. ''I don't have anywhere else to go to.''
Your words hurt him as much as they hurt you, looking at the potential you have that is being wasted on some ungrateful wanker who berates you for the smallest things.
''Run away with me.'' He suggests in a spur of the moment and before he can even process his own words, a small giggle escapes your lips. He raises an eyebrow as he looks down at you, curious as to what's so funny. Your giggling stops when you notice the expression on his face.
''You're serious?'' You ask carefully, not wanting to make a fool of yourself despite knowing he'd never joke about something like that.
''I'm serious, love. We could go somewhere far away from here, safe. You can leave all of this behind, just say the word.''
''I...'' He can see your hesitancy, his warm hand rubbing circles on your back while the other one holds your hand, thumb rubbing the back of your hand reassuringly.
''What if he finds me?'' It's the first question that comes to mind, not wanting to deal with more of his abuse if you ever manage to get away.
''He won't, doll. I can promise you that. I'll get some of my mates to watch out for you when I'm busy at work, if it helps you.'' He knows it will, and he already has highly trusted friends from the 141 in mind to watch out for you whenever he goes on solo missions.
It took almost two hours of convincing before you agreed, and that's where you are now. He's helping you inform the police about your situation and why you're going away, just in case your husband tries to report you missing.
Most of your belongings were left at the house, but... it surprisingly doesn't bother you. It'll be a new beginning, the same furniture that has witnessed years of abuse is now left behind, only a few clothes inside his car while you both leave the police station. You take a deep breath, the warmth of the sun washing over your skin as you close your eyes, a sincere smile on your face for the first time in years.
''Thank you, Simon.'' My angel, my savior.
#cod mw2#cod mwii#simon ghost riley#ghost mw2#ghost fluff#hurt/comfort#simon riley x y/n#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost x you#simon riley fluff#ghost call of duty#simon riley#ghost cod#call of duty#mw2 fluff#stray answers
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Steve needs to be touched.
He's not sure how he didn't notice sooner. Didn't really realize until his skin almost itches with it. Until he notices how he will almost chase any physical affection without thinking. But by then, it already feels too late to really do anything about it.
Luckily, Eddie and Robin are both physically affectionate people. They use any opportunity to invade his personal space, any excuse to throw an arm around his shoulders or nudge his shoulder with their own. They're always in his space so much that, at some point, he starts to expect it from them.
It only makes him more painfully aware of Eddie slowly trying to pull back, to pull away. To put some distance between them.
Steve wonders if it's becoming obvious how needy he's become. He had thought he'd been a little subtle about it- he goes straight to him and Robin whenever he starts to feel that itch, that need for contact, but they all have so much trauma that no one bats an eye. But if Eddie has noticed and thinks its... weird or uncomfortable...
He doesn't say any of this to Robin when he tries to ask her what's wrong though. It's less... asking. He basically just waits for a quiet moment to wonder; "I hope I haven't done anything to upset Eddie. He's been pulling away a lot recently."
"Steve," Robin looks a little guilty. "He's fine. You haven't don't anything. Don't worry about it, ok?"
Don't worry about it? Steve frowns.
"You talk to him? It's... I mean, it's only me then, right? I haven't fucked up too bad, have I?"
Robin grabs his shoulders. "Steve. You didn't fuck anything up. He just needs some space right now. I'm the one who told him to back off a little with you. I think it's something you both need. Ok?"
"You told him to back off?"
"Yeah, and you trust me, right?"
"Of course I do."
She nods, gives him a lopsided grin and heads to the backroom to "actually do my stupid job for once!"
Steve tries not to curl in on himself. Tries not to jump to conclusions, but... why else would she tell Eddie to back off? But that means that she's noticed how weirdly clingy he is too. She must be ok with it though... right? She told Eddie to back off, she hasn't tried to do that herself. If anything, she's been a little more physically affectionate.
So he's been making Eddie uncomfortable. He has fucked it up. Robin is just trying to be nice.
The next time he sees Eddie, it's almost too much. Knowing that he's making Eddie uncomfortable won't leave his mind, making him painfully aware of what he's doing, making sure he also keeps his distance. He won't make Eddie more uncomfortable- he's a great guy, he deserves so much better than that.
But it is too much. So Steve starts to avoid him entirely. It's easier, even though it means he has to avoid group hangouts. Even though he feels lonelier than ever. It's easier than having Eddie right there.
He can tell that the others are starting to worry about him. Even Eddie, apparently, is worried. But he keeps dismissing it all. Brushes them off. Falls back on the excuses and tactics he'd use on Tommy. It's not good, he's too cruel sometimes, but it gets them to back off.
Of course, that doesn't last long.
He wasn't fully awake when he pulled open the door and, as soon as the door opens, Eddie shoves his way inside. He ignores Steves complaints, sitting on the sofas armrest, quickly settling down with his arms crossed. He raises an eyebrow at Steve, who is still hovering in the doorway.
Steve reluctantly closes the door. He doesn't sit down. "What do you want?"
"I was about to ask you the same. What the hell is wrong with you, Steve? Did something happen?"
"I'm fine. No, actually, I'm tired. Maybe you should leave so I can fix that."
Eddie narrows his eyes. "You're lying."
"So?"
"So? Fucking hell, dude, I thought you were better than this! Or was that a phase? Miss being King Steve too much, huh?"
Steve flinches at the nickname. "I'm trying to deal with some shit right now. Being around you guys is only making it harder, so I'm taking some time alone to work through it. I'll be fine, I just need some time."
"Time for what?"
Steve grits his teeth. Even if he were willing to talk about it, explaining that he's trying to forget what it felt like to have Eddies hand on his shoulder is too embarrassing to admit.
"Steve, come on," Eddie tries, stands up and walks closer. "Talk to me. Please, I just want to help."
His hand is so gently on Steves arm. He just wants to curl up in the touch, even as small as it is.
He feels shame boil under his skin when his face scrunches up, hating how visibly close he is to crying. Especially with how soft Eddies voice gets, with how he pulls Steve closer so he can hug him, wrapping him up in his arms. Steve can't help but hug him back, gripping the back of his top tight, shaking.
"It's ok, you're ok, I've got you," Eddie is saying. He tucks his face into Steves shoulder, gently rocking them. "Whatever it is, you don't need to be alone, ok? I'm right here. I'll always be right here."
"I don't want you to be uncomfortable," Steve finally sobs. He hates how his voice cracks.
"You don't make me uncomfortable. You've never made me feel uncomfortable, I promise. I don't think you could if you tried, sweetheart."
"But Robin- she told you to back off?"
"Yeah, but that- that's nothing to do with you, ok? You didn't do anything wrong. That wasn't your fault."
He waits, but Steve doesn't respond. If anything, he feels more tense.
"Ok, Steve, come on, hey." Eddie gently pushes Steve away, holds him by his shoulders so he has to look at him. "That wasn't your fault."
"So why were you pulling away?"
"I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. Robin didn't want me stressing myself out, worrying all the time."
"Why would I be uncomfortable?"
"Steve. I'm gay."
"Yeah? I do listen when you talk, man, I don't need a reminder."
"No, that-" Eddie snorts, shaking his head. "I'm gay and you're pretty. And nice. And you're always curling up on me like a fucking cat. Did you really not realize?"
"Oh." Steve blinks. He isn't sure what he's feeling, but it definitely isn't negative. "Really? Me?"
"Yeah, Stevie, you. I thought you'd noticed. I stare at your lips a lot. Even the kids noticed. Like I said, I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. It's one thing to be ok with a dude being gay, it's another for that dude to be crushing on you. I get it if you don't feel comfortable with any of that shit."
"No, it... it's not making me feel uncomfortable."
"Ok. That's good? Right? How is it making you feel?"
Steve fiddles with the hem of his top, face heating up. "Uh. Nice, I guess? I don't know. But not, like, bad."
"Nice as in... it's nice to feel wanted?" Eddie glances down to his lips- this time, Steve notices.
"No, um... I don't know. I didn't really think you'd ever want to look at me like that. It's nice." Steve shifts, hesitating. He doesn't want to say the wrong thing, but he really wants to admit it... "I, uh... I think I want you to look at me like that."
"Steve, please, you need to elaborate. I don't want to read this wrong. Why do you want me to look at you like that?"
"It's... uh..."
Eddie steps a little closer, gently reaching out to hold his hand. "Steve. Why do you want me to look at you like that?"
"Because that's how I look at you," Steve whispers. The thought is a little shocking, even to him- but it's true. "Oh."
Eddies thumb rubs a little circle on the back of his hand. It's nice, comforting. "Steve, I'm gonna kiss you now. Is that ok?"
"Yeah. Yeah, yes, that's ok, please."
#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#steve x eddie#steddie fic#ficlet#I'm pretty sure I was aiming for something else at the start but#this is what it devolved into so 🤷♂️#hurtcomfort
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OP81 | Caught ♡
Summary: after Lando found Y/n and Oscar deep into making out, he forced her to break up with him but she became depressed. So he feel guilty and try to work things out between them.
Warning: depression, y/n trying to kill herself (not detailed) smut, dom!reader, sub!oscar
A/N: here's the part two, hope you'll like it <3
part one - part two
MASTERLIST requests are open
''What the hell happened in your head?!'' Lando was mad. Really mad. It must be the first time she sees him that mad. ''Seriously Y/n! Fuck with Oscar!?'' He clenches his fists so hard they're white.
''Lando, it's not that bad?'' She manages to answer him, extremely afraid of him. She knows he will not hurt her physically, but she's afraid to never see Oscar again.
''Not that bad!? NOT THAT BAD!? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!?'' He yells at her and she bursts in tears, too afraid. Lando didn't hug her. He doesn't try to console her. He does nothing.
''I already call mom.'' He says, more calmly but yet strict. ''You take a plane at eight o'clock to return home.''
''What!?'' More tears flow down her cheeks. ''Lando! Please!'' She tries to grab his arms but he withdraws from her embrace violently.
''No. Take responsibility for your actions.'' She doesn't know what to do. She's so sad right now. No more F1? No more Oscar? And no more of her lovely relationship with Lando?
''I hate you!'' It broke Lando's heart. But he hide it. He doesn't answer, leaving the room to go talk to Oscar. When the door close behind him, she burst in tears, again. Why her? Why Lando was so angry at them? She just wanted to be happy with Oscar.
She sit down in the ground, against the bed. She keeps her legs close to her, hiding her head in. She can't stop crying. What is she going to tell to her mom? ''Oh I fucked with Oscar and Lando doesn't like it.''
No. It can't finish like that. They weren't even a couple. They never been a couple. And they might never be a couple. She finds the strength to calm down and make her bags to go back in Great Britain.
She resist to the tentation of calling or texting Oscar. And when she finally can't deal with it anymore, she finds out that he texted her, ''There is nothing between us.'' and he blocked her.
So all of this was nothing? Oscar never liked her? He just wanted to fuck her like a doll and leave her, her relation with her brother ruined?
After the sadness, here comes the angers. She close her suitcase and leave the hotel room. Lando calls her. And she didn't answer. He tries to call her multiple times but she just ignore him, already in the car to go to the airport.
She finally send him a text, ''I'm in the plane.'' She doesn't wait any longer and entered the plane, keeping back her tears.
_ _ _
Times pass and everything goes worst. Y/n is lost. She don't know what to do. Following her brother in his world tour was her job. And now, she has nothing. Well.. she still have the support from her mother. But with Lando, it's not like before. He's cold. He talks to her only when he needs to and he make everything to not see her.
And in all of this, Y/n can't keep her head up. She slowly start to stop eating, she stop to sleep, too busy to cry. She stop to take care of herself, her messy hair were tied in a braid. Big dark circles under her eyes. She can't find a job and start to have money problem. Even if her parents help her, they can't give her 1300£ per month.
She start to think at a solution. An easier solution. Maybe too easy. It's her mother who find her bloody body on the ground of the bathroom. Hopefully, she was still alive. With a lot of scares. But alive.
When Lando saw her in her hospital bed, he understands his error. He threatened to fire Oscar if he tried to hang out with his sister. But what a big error he made.
She who was so beautiful, so kind and caring.. so.. happy.
He destroy her life.
Lando cried for that. During long night, sometimes on the phone with Carlos.
Carlos never came between Lando and Y/n's difficult relationship. He's just Lando's best friend, there's nothing he can do about it. But yet, it's Lando who open it to him. He told him everything, down to the smallest details.
They talk a lot about it. Carlos comfort Lando and helps him to found a solution.
When Y/n got out of the hospital, Lando was there for her. She tried to push him away, not wanting his pity. But he insisted. And little by little, they recreated links. They became closer, more accomplices. But they still hadn't talked about what happened with Oscar.
She's at Lando's place, on the couch. They both was watching a movie but Lando had to answer an important call. He cames back after a few minutes, a big smile on his lips, ''You wanna come to the Belgium Grand Prix with me?'' Her eyes widen. What is he doing? Did he really wants that? ''So that you can see Osc-'' She cuts him off, still angry after what Oscar did with her. ''I don't want to see him.''
Lando was shocked. Why is she reacting like that? He through that she was in love with him. ''But.. what.. well.. I mean.. And the both of you?'' He sit down next to her, seeing her teary eyes. ''He used me.''
And then, Lando remember what he said to Oscar.
Lando pins Oscar against the wall, refraining from hitting him. ''Never approach my sister again.'' Oscar was shocked by Lando's strength. ''But I love her!'' Lando gaze gets angrier, ''No! No you don't!'' Oscar was scared. Not for him. But for her. He was so afraid to loose her. To loose their little eyes contact game at the paddock. To loose the way they were looking at each other. ''Tell her you never liked her. That all of this was nothing. Or maybe you prefer that everyone think you raped my sister?'' It breaks Oscar's heart. But he listens to Lando. What could he do? He can't afford to let Lando spread rumors about him. ''You are a monster you know?'' ''I'm just a good big brother.'' A tear fall down Oscar's cheek when he send her the text and block her.
''Y/n.. please don't be mad..'' He wipe away her tears with his hand. ''Oscar loves you.'' More tears fall down her cheeks. ''No he don't. He told me it. Before blocking me!'' Lando feels so bad. All of this was because of him. ''I.. I threatened him to send you this message.''
She gets up from the couch. ''You did what!?'' Right when everything was going better between her and Lando, they had to argue again. ''I'm sorry Y/n. I tried to protect you!'' ''You tried to protect me!? PROTECT ME!? I had depression, I tried to die because of it and you think you protected me!?'' Now, Lando is crying too. He can't keep back his tears. ''I..'' He doesn't know what to say. ''Of course I'm coming with you for the Grand Prix. I have to talk with this dumbass.''
Lando can't help but chuckle seeing his sister reaction. Yes she was made at him. But in one hand, she understands him. She probably would have react like him.
''When do we go?''
_ _ _
She walks throughout the paddock, looking for Lando. She missed that. Looking for her brother everywhere until she finds him where he's not supposed to be. It remember her something.... Well. It's already Sunday. And Oscar avoided her the past few days.
Lando feels even more bad. He tries to talk with Oscar but after what happened, they were talking only for the camera. Oscar begin to be so cold. Not only with Lando. But with everyone. It was like something in him was broken. And his heart was. He hesitated so many times to reconnect with Y/n. But he was so afraid of what Lando had said. He knew he would be able to do it, to spread this rumors.
After his Dnf, Oscar was so mad at himself. And against Carlos, of course. But he feels so bad that he was about to cry. All of this, all of what happened, it started to overwhelm him.
He sits in his driver's room, still feeling the adrenaline of the race. He doesn't even bother to look the race at his TV, too busy in his thoughts.
But he quickly comes out, hearing someone knocking on his door. He doesn't answer, just wanted to be alone.
''I know you're here.'' This voice. He can recognize it among a thousand. No. Y/n shouldn't be here. He have to stay away from her.
''Oscar, can I enter?'' He still doesn't answer. Hoping that she would go away. ''Please..'' The way she beg him reminds him of that afternoon in his hotel room. He closes his eyes and sigh. ''Come in.'' She doesn't wait any longer and enter the small room, closing the door behind her. The first thing she said let Oscar in shock, ''Lando tell me everything.''
She stand up in front of him, her blue eyes (The same as Lando.) looking at his. Oscar doesn't know what to do. He's so stunned by what he heard. ''I..I'm so-'' She doesn't leave him the time to finish his sentence that she leans forward and kiss him.
Oscar doesn't kiss her back. She remains leaning forward and Oscar can't help but let his eyes slide towards her cleavage.
''Y/n..we..'' He stop his sentence when she gets on his laps, facing him. ''I know you want it. And I want it too.'' She kisses him again but he still doesn't answer to it. So she grabs his hand and put it on her left breast.
And it was like a trigger for Oscar. He let his other hand slide to her ass and kissed her deeply, his tongue exploring the inside of her mouth. She moaned into the kiss as he make her hips moving against his bulge.
''Fuck, I missed this.'' Oscar let his head fall back, Y/n kissing his neck, leaving a few reds marks. ''I need you..'' She helps him remove his racing suit, her hands sliding over his muscles. He then helps her undress her and makes her sit back on his laps. Her now wet and needy pussy rubbing against his hard and fat cock.
''Come in.'' She whiny against his ear, wanting nothing more than feel him inside her. He grabs her hips and helps her impale herself on his fat cock.
She quickly move up and down, his cock sliding perfectly in her tight cunt. ''Oh fuck...Y/n..keep..''
Oscar has never been very oral when it comes to sex. But damn how much he had missed her. ''Yeah yeah yeah.. just like that..'' He keeps encouraging her to go further. She can't keep her moans back as she feels the knot in her lower abdomen slowly untied.
She hides her head in the crook of his neck, keeping back her orgasm. ''Cum f'me baby.'' She doesn't need anything more to drowning his cock with her liquid. Oscar keep trusting in her a few more time and he milks her with his own hot seed.
They regain their breathing, Oscar coming out of her with one last little moan.
''It felt so good.'' She chuckle, kissing him again. ''I missed you.'' He rub his nose against hers. ''I love you. I love you so much Y/n. You can't imagine it.'' She was so surprised to see him showing that much his emotion. Her eyes watered with joy as he kiss her cheek again.
''Aww.. sugar don't cry.'' It made her tears rolling down her cheeks. He hugs her tightly, pressing her breasts against his chest.
They continue to cuddle, making up for all the time they lost together.
But the end of the race comes faster than expected and Lando returns to his driver room, right next to Oscar's.
And unfortunately for Lando, he had the honor of hearing his sister cum under Oscar's licks.
He tried not to get upset. After all, it was said that they looked good together. And Oscar is a good guy. He would never hurt his sister.
So if he's going to have to put up with all their moans, he will.
Because after all. Lando is a good big brother who only wants his sister to be happy.
#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 drivers#f1 x reader#help he's so hot#fluff#f1 smut#piastri#smut#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri f1#oscar smut#oscar#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri fanfic#op81 imagine#op81 fluff#op81 x reader#op81 smut#op81
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Stay (A/F) :: k.m
Synopsis: Sometimes distance doesn't make the heart grow fonder.
Pairing: Kim Mingyu x GN!Reader
Word Count: 3.6k
Genre: Angst and fluff.
Warnings: Allusions to online bullying but nothing is explicitly said. Arguing, crying, cursing.
You could feel tears welling up in your eyes the longer you stared down at your phone. The endless stream of hateful words - tweets, Instagram comments - every social media profile people could find of yours had been flooded the few days, technically since people figured out that you and Mingyu were actually dating, and you weren’t just some random staff member that seemed to always be around him for work reasons.
You hadn’t said anything to any of the guys about the comments and messages you’d been getting, and you certainly hadn’t said anything to Mingyu about them because you already knew how he was going to react once you did, but it was obvious to the guys that something was going on with you, and it wasn’t anything good.
The first one to truly notice it was Mingyu, but when he asked you if everything was okay, you told him that you’d been a lot busier at the company with different things- it wasn’t a total lie, you had just been promoted so it wasn’t much of a stretch for him to believe it. Then when the news of your relationship started appearing in the headlines of certain sites, both of you were stressed out and worried about a thousand things at once.
The next person to figure out something was wrong with you was Wonwoo. Since Mingyu and him lived together and you were over at the dorm all the time, with and without Mingyu, it wasn’t hard for Wonwoo to notice something was different with you. Sometimes when you weren’t really focused on anything, he would notice a far off look on your face or how sometimes you just acted a little more distant than you meant to before quickly covering it up with a joke or a flippant comment about something else.
Then slowly, one by one, the rest of the guys started noticing the way you were distancing yourself from all of them. They would constantly invite you out with them like they always had but they started noticing that you were declining more and more, saying you were too tired that night, or how you just wanted a quiet night in after such a busy day.
It got to the point that Seungcheol had suggested not inviting you for a bit, so you stopped feeling bad about telling them no every time, something he knew you did because he heard you say as much to one of the stylists that you were friends with one day after they had invited you to lunch with them that morning.
He didn’t mean to eavesdrop on the conversation, but he had been looking for you to talk about something that was part of their group schedule for the day, and as he turned a corner he saw you and once of their stylists standing a little ways away talking and he could tell that you were trying not to cry as you told her how awful you felt about how often you told them no to their invitations anymore.
“I barely see them outside of this stupid building anymore,” You sighed, wiping your eyes quickly. “I haven’t even slept at the dorm in almost a month because it’s easier to just go back to my apartment alone than to be there with Gyu. And I feel like screaming every single time I tell any of them no for something.”
The stylist frowned softly, as Seungcheol watched her rub your arm, “Then why do you keep saying no?”
He watched you give her a gut wrenchingly sad look, even from where he stood down the hall from you, he could see your eyes turning red as a tear rolled down your cheek. “You know why, Soo.”
Seungcheol hated seeing the look on your face, hearing the sadness in your voice, so he backed up a little bit around the corner and started walking around it like he hadn’t been listening, and headed straight for you with a giant smile on his face.
He pretended like he didn’t notice you wiping your face the second you saw him coming towards you, and his heart broke slightly when he saw the smile you plastered on your face as soon as his eyes met yours.
“Cheol! Hi,” You grinned up at him, as he stopped in front of you.
He offered you a quick nod, then one for the stylists, too, “Hi, Y/n, Sooyung-Noona, do you mind if I borrow them for a moment?” He asked her, “I just have a question about our schedule for today.”
The stylist smiled at him and nodded, giving you a soft look, too. “Of course, Y/n, if you have anything else you need, come see me later, okay?”
You nodded at her words, mouthing a quick thank you to her before she smiled at the both of you and turned away, heading back into the room you had pulled her from earlier.
Seungcheol waited until the door had closed behind her, before he easily pulled you into a tight hug, obviously catching you off guard by the surprised noise that sounded from you.
“What was that for?” You asked him softly, once he’d stepped back again.
“Your eyes are red; you’d obviously been crying about something.” He mumbled softly, lying softly as he looked down at you, “Figured you could use a hug and since Gyu isn’t here, I’m good in a pinch.” He smiled sweetly down at you.
You huffed softly, silently hating that he had noticed you crying, but also thankful that he hadn’t pressed about why. “I just feel bad that I keep saying no, every time you guys ask me to hang out with you all.”
He shrugged, still smiling at you, “Don’t worry about it. You’re incredibly busy, sometimes even more than we are. I feel bad that you have to keep saying no. When your schedule opens up a little more, tell me, or Gyu and then we’ll figure out something for all of us to do together, that sound okay?”
He let out a quiet sigh of relief at his understanding and nodded, “That sounds great. Maybe I’ll treat you guys to something this time, yeah?”
He let out a laugh and shook his head, “Not a chance, but nice try.”
You laughed softly at his words, and rolled your eyes, knowing none of them would ever let you pay for anything around them before you asked him what he had a question about.
That had been almost 2 months ago, and you still had yet to tell him or Mingyu that your schedule was never so busy that you couldn’t put something aside for even a little while to hang out with them once and a while. You didn’t think you were going to for a while, either. Mostly because you wanted to wait until all the comments and messages either died down, or they stopped bothering you as much, and since neither had happened yet, you didn’t want to go out to eat somewhere with the guys and have someone get more pictures of you with them. The last time that happened, the flood of messages you got still gave you nightmares.
You closed out every app on your phone and locked it, staring at your distorted reflection on the black screen and reached your hands up to your eyes to wipe them, then your phone started to ring.
My Heart❤️
Mingyu.
And it was a video call. You were happy the lights in your room were dimmed so he wouldn’t be able to see you that well as you answer the call, throwing up the same fake smile that you’d given Seungcheol all those weeks ago.
“Hi, baby!”
His beaming smile filled your chest with equal parts warmth and cold- warmth from love and the cold from the decision you’d made not even an hour ago.
“Love of my life,” He grinned at you through the phone. “Would you be so kind as to let me in, sweetheart?” He asked, “I’ll be at your door in a minute and my hands are pretty full.”
You froze, staring at him through the screen, “What?”
He gave you a quick confused look before his eyes focused back on where he was walking, “I know it’s kind of late, and very last minute, but I wanted to come see you. I feel like I haven’t gotten any time with you in weeks. Like proper time, and I thought tonight would be a good time since I know you’re off tomorrow and I’m also technically off tomorrow because I have an open schedule.” The words continued to pour out of his mouth, and quickly. “I’ve just really been missing you and you used to love when I’d come over unannounced when we first started seeing each other, I thought it’d be a nice surprise, ya know?”
You could tell he was almost at your door, so you couldn’t stall him or tell him it wasn’t a good time at the moment, so you quickly pushed yourself out of your bed and rushed towards your front door, while you hung up the call without saying anything, your eyes seeing the multiple notifications about more messages you’d gotten just since answering the phone call.
A thousand thoughts shot themselves through your mind in a panic, Was he followed? Do people know where I live now? Is someone going to try breaking into my apartment now when I’m not home- or worse, when I am?
You quickly unlocked the security lock and pulled your door open, just as he was stepping up to it.
He was frowning when you met his eyes.
“Why did you hang up?”
You didn’t reply, just grabbed two of the bags from his arms and turned to walk them into the kitchen while he pulled his shoes off before following behind you.
You heard your phone go off again – more messages.
“Baby?” He called softly, walking into the kitchen behind you.
You simply hummed, starting to pull things from the bags before he grabbed your hands and tried to get you to look up at him.
Another message.
“What’s going on,” He asked. “You always stay on the phone with me until you open the door.” You could hear the confusion in his voice as you continued to evade his stare, until he gently grabbed your chin and made you look at him.
The worry in his eyes broke your heart, and you could feel yourself trying to pull your hands from his before a sob clawed its way from your throat as your phone went off again, and again, and again.
The worry in his eyes flooded the rest of his body as he tried to calm you down, attempting to wrap his arms around you as you cried, yelling at him to let you go while trying with everything you had to push him away from you.
“Hey, hey, hey, what is going on? Y/n, please, calm down and talk to me, baby? What happened?”
You continued to struggle against him for a moment before you all but finally collapsed against his chest, tears streaming down your face.
He held you as close to his chest as he physically could, softly shushing you as he moved his fingers through your hair, as he mumbled gentle words, telling you it was okay, and that you were okay.
After a couple moments, when you’d finally calmed down enough that you were just softly hiccupping into his chest, he let out a soft sigh and tilted your head up, so you were looking at him. He gently cupped both of your cheeks and wiped his thumbs across them, trying his best to get rid of all traces of the tears that had tracked your face.
Then he offered you one of the softest smiles and easily leaned down and pressed his lips to your forehead. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Before you could even open your mouth, your phone sounded off from the counter again. You squeezed your eyes shut as you pushed away from him again, putting at least 2 feet between you. “I-I think you should go, Mingyu.” You whispered.
“What, why?” He asked, his voice no higher than yours.
You could feel the bile rising in your throat as you lied to him, “I don’t- I don’t want you here.”
His eyebrows couldn’t get any closer as he stared at you with an incredulous look. “Why not,” He asked. “Did I do something?”
You quickly shook your head, “No, of course not.” You told him easily.
He tried to take a step towards you, but you took another step back, and watched his face fall as soon as you did. “Then why?”
You could see his eyes beginning to slowly fill with tears as you both stared at each other. “Because I don’t.”
He shook his head, making the tears fall as he did, “That’s not an answer, Y/n. If I didn’t do anything wrong, tell me why you don’t want me here.”
You just kept shaking your head, “I just don’t Mingyu, I don’t-“
Another message.
He groaned, glaring at your phone on the counter. “Why is your phone blowing up so fucking much,” He yelled, reaching for it.
“No!” You panicked, yelling at him not to touch it as you quickly moved to take it from him before he could unlock it.
You stopped moving- almost frozen, watching as his eyes quickly filled with more tears as he scrolled through the hundreds of messages you’d gotten just tonight. The soft light of your phone screen lit up the tears in his eyes in a way that would be poetic, were it not so heartbreaking knowing the horrible things he was reading about you.
“Mingyu, please,” You cried, but unable to say anything else.
Finally he looked up at you, and you could feel your heart breaking into a thousand different pieces.
“Why didn’t you say anything,” He whispered. “Why didn’t you tell me this was happening?”
Your eyes trailed along his face as you tried to put into words what had been going through your mind this whole time. “How could I? What was I supposed to say to you?”
He dropped your phone back onto the counter and wrapped his arms around you, his voice cracking as he whispered that he was sorry.
You shook your head, trying to look up at him, “You have nothing to apologize for, Gyu. You couldn’t have known- I didn’t want you to know.” You cried, cupping his face. “I thought I could distance myself from you until it stopped, I thought that the space would help it not hurt so much but I was wrong. I was so wrong. I’m so sorry, baby.”
You buried your face into his chest as you both cried; Mingyu because he had no idea that this was the reason you’d been so distant lately, and you because you felt so terrible about having put him through it.
“Don’t give me space. That’s the last thing I ever want from you.” He whispered to you, doing everything he could to pull you even closer to him. “How did I not know you were dealing with this?”
You sniffled, “I blocked everything about our relationship on your phone so you couldn’t see it.” You admitted. “Every key word that I could think of that would let you see any of this stuff. Because I knew how you would react to it, and I didn’t want to put you in that position.”
He cradled your face in his hands, his cheeks streaked with tears, “That should’ve been my decision, sweetheart. Whatever position it would’ve put me in, should’ve been my choice. I’m your boyfriend, I’m supposed to protect you from things like this.”
For a long moment, you both stood in your kitchen, his arms wrapped tightly around your body as you both slowly started to calm down. The silence between you was broken every few seconds when your phone would ding once more from the counter and after about the fifth or sixth notification, Mingyu let out a deep, heavy sigh before grabbing your phone again.
“What are you doing?”
He quickly glanced at you as he scrolled and tapped away on your phone, not offering you an answer.
“Gyu, what are you doing?” You asked again, a soft lilt in your voice as the panic slowly started rising in your body at the pure angry look that had settled on his face.
“I’m doing what I should’ve done in the beginning.” He told you, pulling his phone off the counter as the text tone he’d set for you went off a number of times before he’d gotten it unlocked and pulled your tread up.
You looked down and saw that he had sent himself a bunch of screenshots of messages that people had sent to you before he handed your phone back to you. “I blocked everything on your phone, like you did to mine. And now, when someone comments on your stuff for everything, I’ll get a notification, too. And if it’s negative in any way, I’ll send it to the company.”
“What are they going to do about what people are saying about me,” You asked. “I’m not an Idol, what gets said about me doesn’t matter.”
A look flashed in his eyes, “It matters to me. And I’m going to make it matter to the company. I will not let anyone say shit about you and get away with it, and if I have to start suing people, or make the company sue people, I’ll fucking do it.”
A feeling filled your body, and your eyes began to fill with tears. Mingyu’s eyes softened before he gently cupped your cheek, “What’s the matter, sweetheart?”
You barely shook your head, sniffling softly as you quickly wiped your face, “Other than the fact that I feel like an idiot for having thought it would be better to not tell you about this in the first place, nothing.”
He let out a soft chuckle just as you collided with him in a tight hug, “You’re not an idiot, my love.”
You laughed softly, “No, for this, I was though.” You looked back up at him, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just- I thought that I could handle it on my own, and that eventually it would stop, and things would be okay again. But then it didn’t stop, it just seemed to get worse the longer it went on.”
You sighed and shook your head, “And I don’t want you to think that I don’t trust you or anything, because I do, with everything I have in me. I didn’t want to burden you with this, because you’ve been so stressed out about all the performances and filming you guys have been doing lately, I was trying to not add more stress to your shoulders.”
“There is nothing you could do that would add stress to my life,” He smiled, his eyes flitted across your face for a moment before he let out a soft sigh, cupping your cheek again and gently rubbing his thumb along your skin. “I love you,” He said easily, like he’d said it a million times, but it wasn’t- it was the first time either of you had said it to the other.
Your eyes widened, and before you could even open your mouth, he continued.
“I’ve been wanting to tell you for a couple weeks, but you kept skipping out on spending time with me. And telling you over the phone or in a text wouldn’t do. Not for the first time.”
You chuckled, feeling your cheeks hurting from how much smiling you were doing.
“I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t say anything to me and were dealing with this on your own, when you never should’ve had to deal with it to begin with,” A solemn look flashed through his eyes as he stared into yours. “I hope that you know there is nothing, absolutely nothing, that you can’t tell me, or talk to me about. Part of being your boyfriend is hearing about everything you’ve got going on, the good, the bad- all of it. I want to know it all, even when it’s painful.”
You nodded, blinking a couple times to try your best to clear the tears from your eyes before they fell. “I’ll try to be better about talking to you about things. But all of that applies to you with me, too, ya know. There is nothing that you can’t tell me, or confide in me about.”
He grinned, “I know.”
You smiled back at him, “Good, by the way, what was that thing you said a minute ago? Something you’d been wanting to tell me for a while?”
He chuckled, then gave you a look, “That first time thing?”
You simply nodded, smiling widely, “I think it was three words.”
“It couldn’t possibly be when I said, I love you, could it?” He teased.
You grinned wider somehow, “Yeah, that!” You giggled before setting your chin on his chest and looking up at him. “Say it again?”
He sighed softly, “I love you.”
“I love you, too, Gyu. So much.” You whispered back, before moving slightly to connect your lips to his in a soft kiss.
One he hummed gently into as he pressed you closer to him, splaying his hands across your back before he slowly pulled away, “So, do you still want me to leave?” He teased gently.
You giggled, shaking your head, “No, I want you to stay. For as long as you want to tonight.”
“Sleepover?” He asked, wiggling his eyebrows with a wide grin that made you laugh.
“Sleepover.” You grinned.
#svt imagines#svt x reader#mingyu x y/n#mingyu imagine#kim mingyu#seventeen imagines#seventeen x reader#seventeen fluff#seventeen scenarios
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jealousy, jealousy ; blue lock boys ♡
ft. sae, kaiser and isagi x f!reader
author's note: if only these scenarios i write would actually happen to me.. :( it's okay, maybe it'll happen one day. an idea i randomly came up with, kinda rushed but still put a decent amount of thought into it. i think i only can genuinely write good when i'm mad skdksj. anyways, enjoyy!! ♡
itoshi sae:
"she's actually, pretty cute..." sae could hear rin mumble next to him, noticing that he was clearly in some sort of daze.
he knew rin was just doing it to piss him off, and he hated to say it was working. everyone knew it, you and sae both liked each other. it's just the both of you were too shy too actually ask the other to be in an official relationship. still, he made it evident to let other people know not to flirt with you, cause worst will come to the worst.
"her outfit is also pretty nice, right?" rin mentioned yet another compliment about you. this time though, he was snapped out of his trance and he was talking to isagi, which the boy agreed with the statement.
it's like a fire erupted inside of sae. it didn't even matter at that point if people were able to see the fury on his face as he walked towards you. you were just minding your own business after all, giggling, chatting and catching up with your friends. well, that was until you were harshly pressed against a wall, the air almost being knocked out of you as your field of view drastically increased.
by just his cologne, you almost immediately know it's sae. but you still nervously look up as he's looking down at you with his usual bored eyes. however, the moment your gazes lock onto to each other, he's giving you that soft smile he only dares to show when you're around. it makes your heart flutter, cause why was he always hiding it if it was such a pretty look on him?
"um, is there a reason why you decided to pull such a bold move in front of everyone tonight-? huh-?" it was just a little sound you could make as he moved your chin up towards him to pull you for a kiss. it wasn't a short one either. he made sure to take his time devouring and remembering the way your lips tasted. at first, you had no idea to react, but eventually you were able to ease into the kiss.
it takes a while until sae is finally satisfied and able to let go of you. only then do you both realize how quiet the place has gotten, and that's when it hits that everyone is paying attention to the both of you. upon your realization, you put your head down in embarrassment, but it's not like anyone could see you really. sae's back was covering you.
he could hear the gasps and shocked noises from rin and isagi, but that's what makes his let out that deep chuckle. he kisses your forehead, whispering 'mine' across the skin as he grabs your hand. "where are we going-?" yet again you are merely cut off as sae drags you out of the area, with vivid plans to take you to his house, to make things official once and for all.
michael kaiser:
kaiser was definitely one to get jealous much easier. i mean, who can blame him? he takes great pride in his relationship, and you mean the absolute world to him ! it's only natural for him to get possessive over the one he loves. so when he sees some random guy leaning into you, he's outraged to say the least. but he's still in the middle of practice. noa would come for him if he left at any regard.
so when he goes on his little break, he tries to listen in a bit first. kaiser doesn't want you to think you're not capable of saying no yourself, but he's still there to rush in and protect you for whenever the time calls for it. "what's a pretty girl like you doing in a stadium like this?" this guy's tone almost makes him vomit right then and there.
"uhm, waiting for my boyfriend. can you please move? you're making me really uncomfortable." you say nicely, yet with a stern voice. kaiser's always liked that about you. your ability to still stay so calm in dire situations like these. you keep him balanced, and he loves you so much than words can express for that.
"c'mon, your little boyfie' doesn't hafta' know. just come with me for today." he really hates how insistent this man is. kaiser might be a bit of a jerk at times too, but he doesn't stoop down to this horrible of a level. he's really tempted to run in there, but again, he waits a little while longer.
"no thanks." it's simple, and you try to walk off, you really do. but the man grabs onto your arm roughly, which makes you yelp out in pain. he's almost trying to drag you away, to which you aren't able to retaliate as much as you has hoped to do. kaiser sees you, he does. so the instinct alarms loud in him, and he's picking up his pace to run over to you, quickly knocking the man out of his senses (literally) before turning around to you.
"sorry i didn't come sooner, baby. did he hurt you? i'm sorry-" you stop his chant of apologies by giving him a quick kiss and then wrapping your arms around him. even if he's sweaty, kaiser didn't want any more than to keep you in his arms forever. "it's okay mikka, he didn't pull too hard. thank you for coming." you kiss him on the cheek again as he does the same back to you.
"well first of all, he was ugly anyway. i knew you wouldn't go for him. second of all, i wish i had come sooner, really. i didn't want you to think that i thought you were incapable or whatever." you smile at him unconsciously as he talks. jealous michael was not only really useful, but he was also really cute.
isagi yoichi:
isagi is more of the "doesn't really notice but when he does he becomes 10000000x more clinger." (yes i just gave it a title shut up.) so when he invites you to his gathering with the blue lock boys, he wants you to enjoy yourself! he's off chatting with bachira and chigiri, but everyone once in a while he'll look at you to make sure you still have that gorgeous smile on your face!!
so when he looks back at you once again, he's a bit confused. you look great, of course! but it kind of seems like, you're having too much fun..? without him? his heart stings a little. isagi loves seeing you happy, but when it's with another guy? nagi at that? no, he's not happy at all now. he's the one who should be making you laugh like that, not him.
he quickly excuses himself from the conversation at hand and starts to walk over to you. you're sitting on a chair, back facing towards him. so to surprise you, he wraps his arms around you, gently putting his chin on top of your head. he makes direct eye contact with nagi, which almost looks like a death glare. "hey princess, what are you up to?" he coos at you, and since you can't see his face, you assume he's in a good mood.
"nothing much, yoichi! nagi was telling me about blue lock! how was the catching up going?" you say, smiling at nagi. but he gives you a barely visible one back as you suddenly feel your chair being turned around. you see your boyfriend's face, softly smiling at you. you couldn't help but think how adorable he was.
"i could tell you about blue lock too, y'know? come with me, cutie." he lifts you up from your chair, and you let out a small laugh. but then you remember about nagi. was he just staring at you both this whole time-? the thought of it flushes your cheeks, but when you turn around, the chair is empty.
"hey yoichi, what happened to nagi..?" he turns you back around, planting on kiss on your forehead and then one on your lips. "don't worry about it, baby! i'm sure he just saw reo and then walked off! come on, let's go!" he grabs your hand, lacing your fingers together as he drags you off. but when you hear your phone buzz, you see a new notification, a message from nagi.
IMESSAGE:
nagi: your boyfriend is scary, tame him.
you couldn't help but let out a small chuckle once you realized what had happened.
#blue lock#blue lock imagines#blue lock x reader#blue lock x you#blue lock x y/n#blue lock itoshi sae#itoshi sae#itoshi sae x reader#michael kaiser x reader#isagi yoichi#blue lock isagi#bllk fluff#bllk kaiser#bllk isagi#bllk x reader#bllk michael kaiser#bllk itoshi sae#isagi x reader
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