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#this is why Europe just seems right there to us
beedok · 9 months
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Because these sorts of posts seem popular:
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If Paris Ontario were in Paris France, parts of Canada would still be in Canada.
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skrunksthatwunk · 6 months
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kinda drives me up a wall when people go "hey i think x action in a war/combat scenario is inhumane and cruel and shitty" and someone responds with "oh but within the laws of war it's allowed or there's procedure for it etc etc". it doesn't have to be a war crime to be unforgivable man it's a shitty rulebook anyway
#like whether or not something's bad isn't determined by whether or not it adheres to arbitrary rules people made up and never obey#i thought we all knew that already. c'mon man. get a grip#obviously war crimes are bad but that's not where the badness potential ends y'know#this post is due to my dad talking about smth i sent him mentioning US troops firing on a bunch of guys in smth on deserters and he was lik#well they're not like citizens or refugees or deserters they're retreating enemy combattants. so it's different.#it IS different but isn't it still like. overly brutal? idk.#like would you want them to pursue Your ppl regardless? are they not allowed mercy just because you proved stronger? your positions could#be swapped easily and you'd think that as fellow combattants you would feel that deeply. idk maybe i'm just too soft or whatever but like.#seems stupid to me. war generally seems stupid to me but this specifically right now seems stupid to me#yes i know there are practical concerns and sacrifices in combat that make sense when you're actually there and me saying there should be n#wars and we should make it a fucking priority to not have wars doesn't mean ppl already in a decision-making role in the field should do#what i (an idealist) would do. they're responsible for minimizing loss and shit. whatever. doesn't mean it's not fucked up anyway.#and that's assuming the best case scenario for a leader in such a position. usually they just want to minimize Their side's losses. usually#by maximizing the other side's. or they just want to win and will sacrifice anyone for it if it's practical#which happens a Lot. usually it's a mix of the latter two to my understanding#as if americans' lives matter more than anyone else's and the other side doesn't have a right to mourn bc they offended us somehow#ugh that shit irks me so bad dude. there'll be like a terrorist attack in europe or smth and the news'll be like#ONE AMERICAN WAS KILLED. and twenty swiss. THE AMERICAN WAS VISITING FAMILY THERE ON SUNDAY MORNING WHEN TRAGEDY STRUCK etc etc#fucking hate that. i don't care if they're on 'my team' or whatever they're all equally human and equally dead#why the hell should i care if one of them was an american. just say 21 people died. like i get reporting on it briefly ig to like notify#ppl At Best but like. it's so grating. why can't you be normal about other people fucking goddamn you#why is this a controversial statement. why is giving a shit about people killing each other (often for like 10 ppl's financial gain) wrong#like. come on. i don't care if they 'deserve it' or whatever because i don't think they do. and even if they Did i don't think it's#America's Time To Step Up!!! every time smth like this happens (but only when it is financially beneficial to us to do so#such that we ignore atrocities all the fucking time bc it's inconvenient. we're not superheros. we're cops.)#not saying america shouldn't do anything bc like. idk. you screw everyone over to have all the power maybe you should use that influence fo#good. but my definition of 'good' is wayyyy way different from everybody who's ever held office here apparently so like. nuts to that#eugh. anyway im cutting myself off here rant over. for now
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briankang · 24 days
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occamstfs · 1 month
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Actually, They're Called Tetrominoes
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Been holding out on some kinda Video Game trigger, here's a bit of an odd Russian cultural/racial TF, enjoy! -Occam
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Michael could stand to be a more pleasant person. Day to day he is a pretty run of the mill head-down kinda guy, amicable but never really goes out his way to chat or make friends. Instead he finds his free time often used to prowl the internet looking for people to torment online in whatever way he finds funny at the moment. Born too late to be a goon on SomethingAwful he typically pages through Reddit threads and communities looking for someone sensitive or cartoonishly argumentative.
This is precisely where he finds himself tonight, being a pedant on some video game thread that he doesn’t truly care about. Some presumably Russian user, u/ZandrIvnov, seems to be quite proud of Tetris which Michael finds incredibly amusing. As an American he too takes pride in many of the cultural exports and ideas that his nation has sent into the world, including many of the deeply entrenched ideas about the Russian and Soviet people taught in world history. It takes especially little for him to decide to start taunting and baiting this man sitting at his keyboard a world away.
Michael launches petty taunts at the Russian, poking fun at his nationality and Eastern Europe at large, stopping short at making fun of the man’s less than perfect English, for now at least. Michael switches between accounts to upvote his responses and even add additional dunks on the Tetris-fan as needed. Try as he might though to get the conversation away from the ancient game and get some more personal and profane digs in there he finds it difficult to find any truly satisfying or clever insults.
Getting tired of hearing this man assert Russian superiority he prepares to pull the ripcord and move on before he sees the Russian misstep talking about the game he’s so invested in, as probably the only fun fact he has on deck comes to mind. After the Russian so eloquently compares Michael’s head to a Tetris piece Michael immediately replies, “okay lol big fan huh they’re actually called tetrominoes” and then moves on to find some other doofus to bully on the internet.
On the other side of the screen Sasha seethes at the man, so juvenile in his mockery “Проклятые американцы. (Fucking Americans.)” He takes to his own keyboard messaging Michael directly as his arrogant messages dry up in the thread proper, Sasha was going to have him put his money where his mouth was. He offers a challenge, “u americans are so proud da? how about we see whos country rly is the best”
Michael felt his pulse rise in excitement at how much he has truly bothered this man. Smug smile on his face as he types his response, “what did u have in mind, Zander?”
“Саша(Sasha) is my name. since u are so smart about tetris, why not see who is actual master of game da?” Sasha offers, knowing already that the troll is sure to accept out of pride alone. Michael wasn’t all that much of a gamer but surely he could show this dweeb what’s what yeah? He starts looking up tips to win Tetris as he replies “sure whatever dude, what are u thinkin”
Sasha smirks as he has Michael right where he wants him, “loser agrees with winner about national superiority? should not be problem if you americans are so good at every thing” Michael was already eager to give it a go and Sasha’s taunt only makes him all the more raring to go. Before he can even pause his meager attempt to study strategy, Sasha sends over a link to the game and Michael clicks over to play, leaving the cheat sheet open on a second monitor. 
Michael types his name into the game and finds himself looking at a familiar screen. He’s never played the game competitively but it’s a pretty simple game right? He just needs to keep his cool once the pieces start flying in. He gets the cheeky idea to check the cheat sheet in between pieces. That’s that good-old red white and blue ingenuity, Michael thinks. Unaware that these are of course also of the Russian flag. There’s a ping from the board as Sasha uses the in game chat to ask “u understand the rules da”
Michael sends back a thumbs up and Sasha sets the game going. It is predictably uneventful at the beginning, neither man making any particularly interesting plays. Michael continues to skim how to best cheat the game while Sasha waits for the perfect moment to fuck him over. Michael finds himself enjoying the game more than he thought he would as he hears the familiar tune, it is awfully catchy isn’t it? He’s gotta hand it to the soviets for that. His gameplay slows down as he tries to speedread the page on his other monitor. Instead of forcing pieces quickly he instead lets them drift slowly while his board is relatively clear. Sasha sees this and decides to go in for the kill.
Suddenly as Michael’s eyes wander away from the game for just a second too long there is an unfamiliar sound. He darts his attention back only to see the floor of his Tetris board rocket up in response to Sasha doing an impossibly well timed combo of lines. Michael’s heartbeat increases at a shocking rate in response as losing becomes a very real possibility. Why is he so upset? His face grows red as he realizes just how outclassed he is. Obviously this is no big deal right? Just a game. But Michael cannot help but feel physically uncomfortable as the tides start to turn so swiftly. 
There is suddenly a crick in his neck that he stretches to avail but only exacerbates as a soreness begins to spread further across his body. Man is he tensing up too much? It’s just, it’s just a game right? Trying to calm down he is hit with the thought as if it were a shot of adrenaline that he absolutely cannot lose this game. His eyebrows furrow as they begin to square and thicken, casting dark shadows over his rage-filled eyes. His limbs take turns cramping as he clenches his neck and jaw to distract from the pane, not noticing as the structure of his face begins to change. 
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His chest grows to join the chorus of muscle spasms as Michael struggles to keep up with even Sasha’s slower gameplay. Across the seas Sasha takes his time, knowing victory is in the bag, and savoring what he knows must be happening to his little troll Michael right now. He smirks as he imagines the discomfort in Michael’s changing body as he feels warmth grow in his own chest, and crotch, as he decides just how much he wants to play with his food. 
Back in the states Michael finds the heat, the sweat, the tightness of his clothes increasingly unbearable. As he continues to mash buttons on his remote he is too intent on the game to notice as hair begins to darken around his forearms and begin to snake its way towards his hands. He rubs them each down to placate the tickle on his growing arms. This is absolutely nothing to the creeping itch that is starting to encompass the entirety of his rapidly expansive legs. He shifts his heavier thighs trying to soothe the discomfort, making a loud sound as they pull away from the sweat sticking them to the chair but not allaying the soreness or itch in the slightest.
He grunts and notices not how his voice has grown both deeper and gruffer in his throat. Michael struggles to keep the remote from slipping out of his hands as sweat trickles down from his hairy arms and into his palms. Before it becomes a problem however Michael takes advantage of the lull in Sasha’s gameplay and tries to quickly remove his far too strained shirt. It should be a simple task after all, just put the remote down for a second, slide it off, and then back to the game. He does a brief check in to ensure he has even that and after believing he does Michael starts to try and remove the shirt strained and sticking to his skin.
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He has precious little time as the pieces continue to fall at their set pace in game. He gets one hand under the hem of his shirt and tries to wrench it while keeping his other hand on the controller, this lets in a breeze of cold air sending quivers of pleasure across his pulsating muscle, as well as igniting a burning ache in his chest and torso. His upper body grows even further, finally overfilling his shirt as the sound of tears ring out in his bedroom alongside the same repetitive folk song he knows well. The idea that this shirt was loose fitting when he threw it on this morning or that he just identified the Tetris theme as a folk song rather than an 8-bit annoyance don’t have a chance to come to mind as he struggles to remain focused on not losing the game.
He pulls the shirt up to his chest before it gets uncomfortably stuck “Ach, bog uh- god damnit.” He scratches at his chest as the soreness and growing muscle makes way for a fiery prickling as the few chest hairs he has been a tad ashamed of begin to thicken and darken on his chest. Swirling out from his nipples and inching higher on his chest with each breath, he continues to struggle to remove himself mindlessly. Finding his shirt caught on his expansive pecs he rubs his hand underneath it across his sweaty chest, and finding it pleasurably drag through more hair on his pecs than he would’ve sworn he had in his pubes, he resolves to remove the shirt however he can. 
As soon as he finishes a line Michael tosses the remote down and goes to raise his shirt above his head, his thicker arms struggling as they adjust to their new range of motion. He wrests the tight shirt above his head, his chest bursting large once more, freed from the garment as the breeze tickles the sweat covered chest hair and forces his enlarged nipples to harden. Having overcome his suddenly massive pecs the neckline is now caught on his chin, his arms raised high above his head expose his pits to the cold open air. He feels the air con blow against his recently shaved pits as the hair begins to grow back. It starts to catch as the hair begins to grow thicker and longer than it had ever done before, curling together as new hairs begin to push out and form a bush thick enough to never see the skin beneath again.
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This also brings his attention to new development in his body, with his face shoved into his shirt it would be impossible not to notice the unbecoming amount of sweat soaking it. Arms raised though he finally notices that he has an altogether far more powerful scent, on par with a macro-obsessed body builder or hygiene-phobic wild man. Michael feels a beard start to push out into the shirt still hugging his face. Shaving once a month was more than enough to keep him clean shaven but now he knew deep in his mind that he would never have a day again where his face would be smooth. It’s that Ru- That American blood in him, right?
He begins to feel himself lost in the scent as his mind begins to grow distracted, attention fading from the game despite the looping tune filling his mind. He turns his head to smell his pits through his shirt which is when he hears the dreaded sound of Sasha making a combo once more, “Gah! Nyo, I can’t lose” he shouts, not noticing as his rough tone begins to develop a slight accent. Ending the long-standing struggle against his shirt he simply rips it off and jumps for the controller, ashamed at how foolish and lustful he has suddenly found himself in the middle of this all-important competition.
He needs to make his people proud! He cannot let Amerika down, ya? His focus and vision return to the game as he stumbles through one more line before all the pieces fall from view and the game declares Sasha the winner. Mikael reflexively pounds his table shouting, “Ny- no! I, this!” struggling to find any words to make his loss okay. Unable to notice just how bizarre this game has affected him, though sure that something grave has occurred. He scrambles to the chat box where he sees Sasha has yet again beaten him to the punch, “gg Брат(brother) yes?”
Mikael’s eyes don’t even notice the language switch in the message as he quickly races to demand a rematch. Punching keys slower than the career-cyberbully is accustomed to, almost as if he would be more comfortable with a different keyboard format, slowly he punches his response “one more best dva out of tri ya?” Sasha laughs out loud seeing Mikael suddenly typing out anglicized Russian. He smirks and squeezes his crotch in excitement at just how far this American brat has fallen into his hands. Sasha responds in full Russian knowing that Mikael may as well already be his countryman. “конечно, почему бы и нет, брат (sure why not, brother)”
Mikael smiles as he prepares for yet another go against Sasha, he’s eager to learn from his, uh? Suddenly he can’t quite remember how he knows Sasha exactly as his memories of his persistent pathetic history of being a troll begins to fade from his mind. As the Tetris theme starts once more with the game Mikael finds himself singing along as the words to the folk song it is based on, blushing at the vulgarity therein.
The race is on once more and though he was sure this was a competition against his friend, no, his брат(brother), Sasha, He can’t help but feel a giddiness as the game progresses. He feels a warmth in his chest just from playing a game of his childhood, of his country? No he’s a born and bred statesman da? He’s from, uh Moscow is a city in one of the states too da? Though he finds himself distracted his body continues to expertly control the game subconsciously.
He blushes as he struggles to remember where he grew up, it was a smaller town for sure. Somewhere very far North for sure, after all why else would he grow so hairy! He launches into a hearty laugh as body hair continues to push out from every pore in his body, sure to be peaking out from every shirt collar on both sides. He scratches at his pubes as it becomes clear that even besides his massive package there will evermore be a bulge in his pants from this unkept jungle as well. 
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His eyes continue to follow the pieces up and down as they slowly begin to lighten and bleach themselves an icy blue. The itchiness that has made itself at home through the whole of its body is replaced with a burning pleasure as he thinks oh his home. Full days where there is only sun, long treks into the city to visit St. Basil’s, helping his mother fry pirozhki. The hair atop his head bleaches itself a sandy blonde while still thickening and pulling itself short as a lightbulb goes off in his head his voice rumbles in his chest as he reflexively speaks in what must be his mother tongue, “Конечно! я спрошу у Саши (Of course! I’ll just ask Sasha).” 
He goes to pause the game as he now knows he can do and types to Sasha in chat, “hey брат, wher am i от again?” Sasha smirks at just how easy this was stopping short from fully masturbating as he thinks of his new massive countryman living a world away as he replies, “недалеко от Москвы, Миша (just outside of Moscow, Misha).”
Misha’s eyes glaze over as he reads this, the room around him changes, American flags familiar patterns shift into the Russian tricolor. Any writing within the room shifts from English to the cyrillic alphabet and Misha sits there with a smile as he recalls his home. Long winters working alongside his best friend Sasha. His neck thickens and his waist expands as he thinks of long nights drinking alongside his friends to abate the cold. The game of Tetris continues on and he again feels a warmth in his chest at the chance to play with his dearest Друг(friend) Sasha.
For the life of him he can’t quite remember why he has moved to Америки though he is sure that Sasha will know. Sasha always knows the right thing to do. One thing is for sure though, he is going to do his Motherland proud.
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honeykaes · 8 months
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le sacrifice du sang
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vampire!neuvillette x reader II 2.6k
warning: smut, 18+ content, minors do not interact, afab!reader with no set pronouns, vampire au, set in 17th century esc france, blood, biting, ritual sex, self harm (neuvillette cuts his wrist for the ritual), soulmate, xenophobia, praise, creampies, monsterfucking adjacent, unedited
synopsis: for decades the village has been thriving despite the vampiric armies ravaging throughout europe. Cast aside for being an outsider, you are deemed as a sacrifice to a vampire lord to stop the attacks in the region.
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Night seemed endless. Most days you would barely see the sun bright outside under the sky. All you could do was sigh, shifting on the soft sheets of the grandiose bed you rested in. A long chiffon nightgown covered your form and rested right at your ankles. You balled your fists on the ornate patterns of the comforter of the bed, golden and navy threads showing off just how much it was worth.
You turned your head to the stained glass window seeing the sun hiding behind the horizon and stars beginning to peak out in the darkening sky—the multicolor light pigmented in blues and purples reflected on the ground as its shadow grew signaling the fleeting light.
Part of you is surprised you're up so early in your new sleep schedule but another part of you questions why you’re even alive right now to look outside the stained glass window. Three weeks ago you were set to die, yet you have lived in the lap of luxury.
All because of him.
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Vampires have been ravaging Europe for a few decades now, causing an all-out war in some regions of the land. Your family insisted on heading there despite it, as traders would surely flourish against the nobles desperate for supplies and your nativity allowed you to follow them. 
Trying to settle and trade in Europe began in disaster as xenophobia grew rapid—war, fear, and prejudices clouding their judgment. You lost your family very early on when you arrived in Europe, losing a lot and trying to scour and try to collect wherever you could to mourn and live. France became the best option to live in since the fighting was beginning to cease in the country.
In the southeast part of the region, you settled in a village. You remained there for five years, trying to make ends meet as a seamstress. You always wondered why vampires didn’t attack and slaughter you and the rest of the village as you heard others had faced. The village had not seen an inkling of the dissipating war around it, and you later discovered why.
To appease the vampiric lords and ladies of France, human sacrifices were commenced—one to save all. You weren’t completely sure who the lord of this area even was, yet you were about to find out after the Judge of the town deemed yourself as the sacrifice.
You begged, you pleaded, you cried but no one in the town so much as pitied you. In their eyes, you were an outsider; someone even more worthy of being sacrificed than “one of their own”. Bullshit is what you wanted to say but you didn’t have the power to defy it.
That man eventually collected you after, the lord of the southern region of France—Monsieur Neuvillette. When he descended, in navy and black, you thought he was an angel and thought the village already killed you thinking he was an angel instead. 
He didn’t seem human at all. 
Long white hair cascaded down his back and lowly tied towards the end with streaks of gradient blue flowing through it. His lavender eyes, pupil slit, and irises glowing, drinking up every unconscious tick and stubble expression in your body and face. His face was stern, but his eyes seemed kind.
He asked you one question that night.
“What is your name, dear?” 
You answered as his eyes softened, lifting his hand to your eyes to cover your gaze
“Then, (Y/n). I’m sorry circumstances have brought us here.”
Darkness was all you were faced with. In a way, you thought death had arrived, only to wake up in a beautifully decorated room in a château when you awoke.
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Neuvillette was kind albeit stoic during your time in his château. Many nights, you’d have dinner with him—his eyes just on you as he quietly drank his silver chalice filled with the iron-rich stench of blood from someone who wasn’t you.
Those nights he would reveal more information about himself and you’d do the same. He told you how he was a lord and has been “in this state” for several millennia. He told you about the rise and fall of empires and even vampiric ones history had all but forgotten. 
Neuvillette also discussed how most of the sacrifices ended up working as servants in the château who he called “Melusines”. 
In the second week since your “sacrifice”, he also mentioned another vampire lord living in this château—Lady Furina. He talked about how eager she was to interact with her subjects, including yourself but he had told her to stay away from you for now as her bloodlust was unpredictable.
But one slip of the tongue had changed the casual conversation into something more serious.
“...She is not to bother you, yet. Not before you are turned at the least.”
Your eyebrow furrowed, lips parting hearing him say those words. Turning? Turning into what?
“What do you mean by that…” you questioned. He placed his chalice down, closing his eyes briefly to collect his thoughts before crossing his arms.
“I apologize. I have neglected to inform you about this since I wanted you to get adjusted to your new life here first,” he murmured. You clenched your jaw, trying to read his stoic expression but it was the same as it’s always been. 
“I admit I played a role in why the Judge had chosen you specifically. When you first settled in the village, your scent informed me that you were my mate. My soulmate,” he replied. You couldn’t stop yourself from scoffing in shock. 
“Smell me? Soulmate? What does that even mean, Neuvillette?! I thought vampires only were interested in other vampires and humans were seen as food. That’s why there’s a war in the rest of Europe after all,” you shouted. He did not flinch at your raising pitch in tone. He gave a small humorless laugh at your words.
“That’s not exactly true. A curse befalls vampires and those with vampiric natures in more than one way than ‘evolving’ from their human characteristics. The same people many see as food can be the only chance to find their mate. Whether unconsciously or not we are always searching, our body craves the touch and affection only our mates can give us, soothing one might say, the soul,” he revealed.
You look down at your plate, half-eaten cake on it before gently pushing it away. There was a pause where no one said anything, but you were sure he could hear your heartbeat thumping rapidly in your chest.
“...Are you scared? Do you need some time to process this? We can save the rest of this conversation later,” Neuvillette discussed. You swallowed, trying to ease the dryness that caught your throat suddenly but refused to look him in his eyes for now.
“H-How would this process work exactly? I’m guessing vampires and mortal humans don't mix well,” you muttered. Neuvillette sighed, grunting in agreement.
“Well. There’s a ritual in a sense to create a bond between each party’s body and soul. The ritual entails copulation and when my fangs pierce your skin in the process. It will signal to both your body and soul that your bond with me has been found and eventually your physiology will adjust into something more like me.”
“...Something that of a vampire,” you whispered, looking up at him. He silently nodded as silence befell the two of you for now. Neuvillette let out a heavy sigh, but the corners of his lips curved into a small smile to try to ease the pain you were faced with.
“I recognize this is a lot for any human to face, so please take as much time as you need. There is no rush, so process however long it will take,” he said, rising from his seat and leaving you alone with the crackling fire in the dining room. 
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It had been a year since that night he revealed himself as your soulmate. A year to finally process and accept your fate. You chuckled to yourself finally seeing the sun’s light completely disappear and the moon rising brightly in the sky.
Tonight you would mourn your mortality.
A knock at the door snapped you out of your thoughts and memories before you called out they could enter. Neuvillette walked in, wearing his own nightgown falling to his ankle, body completely covered in the white chiffon fabric. He stood by the door still, letting you have your space that was resting on the bed.
“Are you sure you are ready? We can wait later to do this. I can wait,” Neuvillette murmured. You flashed a shaky smile before sighing.
“Yes. I am Neuvillette. I promise,” you replied. Neuvillette walked over until he was in front of you, long fingers clasping gently as your chin before lifting it up. Your lips parted in shock gazing into his eyes that softened.
“I’m going to ask one more time, are you sure you’re ready,” he asked, voice low and husky. Your body trembled at the tone of his voice before you slowly nodded your head—you could hear your eardrums echoing out the beat of your quickening heart. 
You slowly lifted your nightgown off and the fabric pools on the floor, leaving you bare and vulnerable to his gaze and touch. He followed, letting his nightgown fall onto the floor. His body was more muscular than you thought based on the attire you usually saw him adorning in the halls. You could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks.
Neuvillette softly smiles leaning in to press his lips against your own. He soon is on top of you, the bed creaked as the weight of two bodies pressed against it. His lips were soft, easily molding on your own while ever so often a sharp pain would poke at your bottom lip. 
“If I’m being honest, I never thought I would experience this. You don’t know how long I waited for this...how I longed for you,” he whispered, as his lips eventually left your own, settling in the nape of your neck. Your body trembled as Neuvillette let his fangs graze against the sensitive skin while his hand traveled down and squeezed the plush of your thighs. 
He finally finds your cunt, cupping his hand at it as he continues to nipple and his along your neck. He soon applied pressure and your hips instinctively began to grind trying to get a lick of friction to brush against your needy clit. Feeling you grind on his hand made Neuvillette chuckle before he opened his eyes admiring the slick now clinging to his palm.
“So pliable under my touch, I’m glad you're enjoying yourself,” he whispered in your ear, hearing another moan rip from your mouth. He soon shifted his position; his thumb now firmly pressed against the nub of your clit pressing tight circles on it. Your form began to twist and your hips shifted as Neuvillette’s hand followed every movement, not budging his focused ministrations once.
His other thumb brushed against your pebbled nibbles, relishing in the way your body jolted from the various sensations. Your breathing became heavy, feeling your entire body flutter inching closer and closer to your high.
“Neuvillette. Neuvillette…I’m—” you groaned out before suddenly Neuvillette completely stopped. You snapped your eyes open in surprise, looking over at him perplexed as his gaze softened and lips tugged in a smile.
“Why did you stop…?” you whispered, puzzled by his actions. Neuvillette leaned in to kiss your forehead while cleaning the slick clinging to his fingers on his thighs as it smeared.
“I needed to make sure you were prepared for me. The ritual unfortunately cannot work if you lose yourself to my fingers, mon cœur. Unless you preferred to wait as I asked earlier,” Neuvillette hummed. You bite your lip, in embarrassment as Neuvillette grasped his cock.
It’s thick, and long and the only vein you could see ran along the base of it. His cock curled up and twitched every few seconds, eager for attention. He let out a grunt, pumping his cock a few times as his tip—flushed pale pink—budded with precum. He rested his length against your slit, letting it slide up and down and gathering the arousal drooling out of your cunt. He let his tip tap against your stimulated clit causing you to shiver before he nestled it against your entrance once more.
As he pushed the tip inside of you, he leaned down, capturing your lips once more before sinking his cock further inside of you. Your nails harpoon against his broad back and you widen your legs wider trying to adjust to his length. Your walls burned at the stretch, trying your best not to tense up as he descended further inside of you.
Finally bottoming out, he slowly slid out before plunging in once more, thrusting with meticulous but strong strokes. Your body moved to his pace, bed beginning to moan and creak while hitting against the wall. 
He grunted louder in the kiss, eyebrows furrowed as he tried to contain himself. He leaned up as you tried catching your breath, stammering his name as his breathing became heavier while his thrusts became faster.
Neuvillette parted his mouth to let his fangs elongate before they buried themselves in the nape of your neck. You yelped, sucking a sharp breath in as the pain of his bite throbbed and shot throughout your entire body. You could hear him gulp and moan, sucking the river of blood pouring down at the wound while he continued to rut inside of you.
“Neuvillette…” you whispered out. It was strange. The pain had somehow subsided and your body felt much lighter and aware of his touch and thrusts, trembling in newly found sensitivity and pleasure. It was as if the bite was an aphrodisiac.
Were all bites like this or was it because he claimed to be your soulmate?
He lifted his head, lower face bloodied from the meal he was indulging in—your humanity. His tongue seemed longer, letting it rest against the wound before taking a long stride up to lap up the rest of the blood dripping from the punctures.
Your walls fluttered down on his cock as your writhed, Neuvillette continued to buck—desperate to sink even further inside of you. He sucked a breath in, struggling to keep up with his pace as your walls continued to cave and clamp down.
Neuvillette's hands find themselves beneath you, squeezing the globes of your ass before lifting your bottom half in an attempt to plunge deeper inside of you. His eyes narrowed watching his cock stretch and disappear in your cunt.
“That’s it…you're almost there. Let me see you come undone. Let’s begin our lives together for eternity in the darkness…” Neuvillette muttered, clenching his jaw tight. You squirmed, tears pricking your eyes as you finally reached your high—body shivering and back arching while calling out his name repeatedly. Your walls quivering from your climax were enough for Neuvillette to follow.
He snapped his eyes shut, hips flattering letting ropes of his thick cum shoot inside of it. He slowly thrust, pushing it deeper, trying to nurse his body down from his high. A trial of his essence managed to leak out, and travel to your inner thighs despite his cock still plugged inside of you.
“Just one more step…please bear with me and stay away,” Neuvillette whispered, placing your hips down on the bed once more. His nails, sharper than before, quickly shut themselves on his wrist—his blood dripping down his forearm. Your eyes and body felt so heavy, your body feeling like your heart was slowing down before you noticed him hovering his injured wrist above your mouth.
Droplets of blood trickled down your chest and chin before finally landing in your open mouth.
As you swallowed, your eyes widened feeling an unknown rush flowing throughout your body replenishing your once tired body so suddenly.
“It…it doesn’t taste like iron, but as if your blood is the purest spring water…”
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undercoverpena · 11 months
Text
circles and squares
simon ghost riley x f!reader (cod)
an: you should all thank @halfmoth-halfman for this one and our early morning chat. I heart you lots.
an: written on phone, mind any errors.
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Ghost is aware he’s not the easiest person to be with. 
He's an entanglement of repressed feelings, scars that run deeper than layers of skin and a need for solitude, that you seem to have slid past. 
You take it all in your stride, not fazed—not asking too much—the patience of a saint.
It’s not that why he likes you. It’s that you make up rules for the two of them with relative ease. Providing him with ways to express himself without using words.
For someone whose skin is littered with only a handful of marked memories and a heart still soft, you surprise him with how deeply you understand him.
How much you just get him.
In all of his future thinking, Ghost never envisioned such a soul would fall for him—although Simon had always hoped. 
Two fragmented parts of him working together, desperate to keep whatever was happening between the two of you intact. Even if he had little to give and not a whole lot to offer, you stuck around.
You say very little when it comes to his past, taking what you can with gratitude. When you’re ticking, turning over thoughts—needing something but unsure how to ask for it—you make up solutions to give him a voice.
Not a physical one, but one just as loud.  
“—like this,” you explain, taking the pen from his hand, drawing a circle—small, no bigger than 2cm—onto the plain, crisp page. 
The black stands out, all stark against the white paper on the chipped wooden desk. His eyes glancing up from the nib, to your eyes.
He wants to ask for an explanation, folding his arms, sighing as he runs his tongue over his teeth. 
You smile. 
He suspects it isn’t because you hear his sigh or because of the way he folds his arms—but because you know him. 
You know it isn’t to do with impatience or confusion, but rather because you understand that the two of you squirrelled away in a room brings questions. Ones he wants to save you from, as though you’re a damsel and not a lieutenant under him. 
You don’t need to protect me.
You’d said that once. Under him, your legs on either side of his thighs as your fingers brush over stubble and blemishes.
But he does.
Not just from the gossip, from the glances. But those who look for him—those who inflicted each defacement he lets you see.
If anything, you’re one of the very things he needs to protect. Keep you safe.
“If we fill it in like this,” you say, shading in the circle. “We’ll know the other person isn’t okay. We don’t have to explain to why, but we’ll know.” 
He cocks a brow, not that you can see it. His mask, the one all plain black, more for the base than out in the open, hiding his expressions from you. 
Ghost suspects, though, you see right through the fabric. Like you saw through him to begin with. Ignored the snark and the bitterness, saw something—someone—worth getting drenched for when you were both stationed in Europe. 
He hadn’t liked the rain before then, not the scent of it—not the way it made his clothes cling to his skin, how it suffocated him. But he likes how you looked in the rain, how your face relaxed even as your hair flattened to your head. How your hand turned palm over, catching droplets like they were blessings and not something which had ruined an entire night of recon. 
“Alright, but if we’re OK?” He asks. 
Your head nods, drawing another circle next to it. Not filling it, just leaving the outline there. 
“Not filled in means we’re okay.” 
It doesn’t cross his mind what they’ll do if there’s no paper, if there’s no way in a crowded room to get across that you’re drowning. That it feels too much. That you need him. 
You think about it, though. Because you always are. Always thinking of ways to make things easier, better. Ticking it off—always assessing, attempting to better things. Not for you, never for you (your selflessness knows no bounds), but for him. 
An answer to his inner thought was answered a month or two later.
It’s a mess, loud voices—arguments brewing in fractions as mutinies begin to build. Price in the centre, chewing his cheek, fingers twitching, likely desperate for a cigar or even a drink as another captain chews his ear off.
The 141 rarely partner with others for this reason.
He doesn’t linger on Price. Knows if he’s needed, he’ll hear his name cutting through the loudness. So he looks for you, eyes searching, finding you pressed into the corner. Alone. 
You’ve not been sleeping. Tossing, turning beside him. Fingers reaching for him, finding his side, his arm—even his fingers—as your brows knit and stencils lines into your face.
He never wakes you, just lets you take—and when you don’t take, he just holds. Clutching you close, pressing your ear to his chest, hoping the steady beat of his heart is enough.
Sometimes it is.
He suspects now wouldn’t be.
Your back is pressed against the wall, eyes down on the ground before they flick up, and for a moment, he forgets how to breathe.
Not just because your eyes are stunning, cutting into him from across a room, but because of how you look at him: a silent calling, a beckoning, a help dancing close to your pupils.
Slowly, for confirmation, he watches as you raise your right hand, drawing a circle on your left shoulder. His eyes track it, following it as it meets your starting point. Mind drowning out Johnny, not even listening to the group of idiots next to him—focused instead on how you begin using your finger to fill in the symbolic shape.  
He nods.
Feet moving, gloved hands pushing shoulders and bodies, parting the pockets of people as he moves towards you.
Ghost isn’t sure what he can do when he gets there, his pulse just thumping—following only a need to be next to you. He expects murmurs, more suspicious comments about how he’s always close by to you. Smarter soldiers recognise that he always has an eye on you if you’re close—they’re just not smart enough to identify something is already happening, and has been for a while.
As he nears you, he’s thankful he doesn’t need to ask it because you’re already keeping your eyes on him. Seeing as he gets closer that your lips are slightly parted, a little O created, chest rising and falling as you take in shallow breaths. 
He wants to offer something, whether it’s his voice, presence, or anything. Which is why he asks:
“Wanna get out of here?” 
He’s not sure if you expect it—not sure if you had considered it an option. Your head nodding, furiously, blinking away tears that threaten to spill as your hand brushes his wrist. 
Not to take his hand—the two of you don’t do that—but to tap. Once, twice. 
Thank you. 
He nods. Not able to (or wanting to) stop the way his heart soars at it—at being able to provide you with something.
Give you a fraction of what you give to him: a way out, a safe place.
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In time, your things begin to merge with his.
Not just on base, but back in England too. Your socks are washed with his, your back covered in one of his tees that skirts your thighs.
He doesn’t mind, for the most part, only finding he struggles with it at night. When you’re sound asleep, soft snores kissing the darkness as he turns over the many ways you could be taken from him.
Ghost sleeps less when he’s home. Most of his REM is collected in the day, sun shimmering through the blinds, your fingers drawing shapes on his shoulders.
Sometimes they’re squares—which means either I love you, or I miss you—and sometimes their triangles. The latter, he’s not sure if they have a meaning. He just draws them back on your knee, watching your lips slide up into your cheek as you try to read your book.
He likes it—the code.
The one he can say down the radio. The one he can draw on your arm when you’re both pressed together in some place in the Middle East.
Which is why it doesn’t surprise him when you shout his name, the front door being kicked shut behind you—a surprise in a carrier bag.
“I know you’re struggling.”
You say it so plainly. Not a hello or how are you, getting straight into it, watching him as he stuffs his hands into the pockets of his joggers.
He says nothing either because there’s little reason to lie. He wears the truth well, the bags under his eyes worse than when he’s sent away on a solo—his need to pin you under him in the morning when sleep hasn’t been wiped from your eyes another tick against your assumption.
Retrieving the item from your bag, you place it on the counter with a tap. His eyes falling from you to them, noticing four magnets.
Nothing impressive, nothing too much. But he knows instantly what they are.
One black circle, one white circle; one green circle, one red circle.
“Naturally, I’m the colourful ones.”
“Naturally,” he snorts.
Moving towards him, you slide a hand over his hip. “They’ll live at the base of the fridge door, and we’ll slide one up—close to the top. When we remember,” you say, looking at him. “Same as the circles. For me, red is—“
“Black.”
Nodding, you try to smile. “Square.”
“Square,” he says back, quickly. Palm cupping your cheek, thumb brushing a line across it.
Wondering, as he always does, how you remain so soft, so kind. How even though you’re haunted too, you still find ways to do things for him—
“Because I love you,” you say, as though reading his mind. “It’s easy because I love you.”
Swallowing, he holds your cheek more firmly, his other hand resting on your hip.
“Y… you don’t have to say it, I’m fine with—“
“I love you. It’s why I worry.”
Rolling your lips, you sigh—soft and small—before you nod. “I know, Simon. But we keep each other safe. Yeah?”
He nods back.
Because you do keep him safe. Not wearing a mark on your skin from him—or asking him to leave one—just in case. Your name on the place the two of you call yours, just in case.
An understanding is known about the future—mainly around rings and names, just in case.
“Which circle are you?”
His lips twitch, a smile wanting to show. “White.”
“Okay, good.” Your finger begins to draw a triangle, his eyes narrowing, your lips rising into a smirk. “Bought something else, too.”
“Yeah?”
Nodding, you lick your lips, eyes widening as you continue to draw it on him. “Wanna go upstairs and… see?”
It hits him only then. The deviousness in your eyes showing.
Triangle means—
“I want you,” you whisper.
He snorts, his laugh dying in his throat, wrapping his fingers around the back of your neck, bringing your lips to his.
Kissing shapes against your lips, unshaded circles, squares, and then triangles.
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pitchsidestories · 29 days
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I loved you in secret II Niamh Charles x Reader
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masterlist I word count: 1188
a/n: hi, this one contains hurt/comfort, it's all fictional as always and we hope you guys like it.
Loosing against Barcelona hurt a lot but what was even more painful to you was the heartbroken face of your girlfriend who was coming towards you, the rain pattered steadily on her slumped shoulders.
In the background you saw the Barca players celebrating their entry into the Champions League final.
Even though you knew that not a single word which existed in the human language could ease away the pain right now, you whispered her name: ”Niamh-“
The defender quickly stopped you from talking more by putting a finger to your lips before pressing her mouth on to yours, giving you a passionate kiss.
The move of the brunette caught you off guard because the relationship was supposed to be a secret and you could tell that your team has been watching the two of you.
For another moment Niamh leaned her forehead against yours before she apologized quietly: ”Sorry.”
“Sorry, for the kiss or the loss?”, you frowned at her.  
“Both.”, she admitted in an honest tone.
You wanted to press on for her to keep speaking, but it was Erin who cleared her throat, so your girlfriend and you turned around to face her.
The Scottish midfielder nodded into your coach direction who didn’t look the least amused, even a little disgusted:” Sorry to interrupt you girls. I thought you should know that Emma saw you two.
Much to your surprise Niamh’s reply was: ”Good.”
“Good?! You must be joking, Niamhy.”, Sjoeke scolded the defender, she herself seemed to have appear out of nowhere.
“Do I look like I’m joking?”, Niamh asked the red-haired woman in a tone which didn’t leave a doubt about her being serious.
The German forward quietly moved away from her.
“Come on, let’s go inside, love.”, you told your girlfriend.
“Please.”, she answered, tears in her eyes because the pain of loosing 2:0 against the reigning champions of Europe was still too fresh for her not to get highly emotional about everything which was thrown at her.
In the dressing room a concerned Millie came up to both of you:” Niamh, y/n?”
“Yes?”, you lifted your chin, to look properly into your captain’s worried face.
Sounding much more annoyed Niamh mumbled through gritted teeth: ”What?”  The sadness was still there but you could feel her getting angrier by each passing minute.
“You better get home quickly.”, Millie responded softly.
“Why?”, you raised an eyebrow at her.
“She’s pretty mad.”, Guro explained. Hearing the Norwegian say this, send a shiver down to your spine, you all knew all too well who your teammate meant with she, Emma who’s facial expression from earlier was engraved into your visual memory.
Your girlfriends voice brought you back from your thoughts. “About the kiss in the rain? Emma should be mad about the game instead, how we lost it in the second half!”
She tried to keep her voice steady but the anger seeped through the words.
Millie shook her head calmly: “We all lost that game tonight.”
You sighed, looking at the tall defender: “Yes, but Millie, she has no right to hate us just because Niamh and I love each other.”
A look of empathy crossed Millies face: “No, I absolutely agree. I know it‘s been bothering Niamh for a while now.”
“Yes, she‘s tired of the hate. Especially after Emmas statement on player-player-relationships.”, you continued.
Millie nodded in understanding. You were sure that everyone in the room knew that Niamhs anger came from an accumulation of disappointing games and questionable interviews of your coach.
“But we didn‘t lose because of this tonight.”, Millie reminded you.
Niamh let out a long sigh: “No, we didn‘t.”
“Niamh.” The older team captain tried to find the youngers eyes.
“Yeah?”
“Go home.”, Millies voice was soft, her eyes full of worry for the two of you. Still, you did not dare to refuse her order.
You started packing your bags silently, trying to leave the stadium as fast as possible.
“Bye, girls.”, Niamh said plainly, not looking at any. of your teammates.
Guro forced herself to smile: “Bye.”
“Goodbye.”, you said before following your girlfriend out.
Niamh was unusually quiet on your way home. As soon as the door closed behind you and you dropped your bags, she turned towards you.
“I‘m sorry, love.”
“You don‘t need to apologize, Niamh.”, you replied, carefully reaching out to take her hands into yours.
She shook her head, avoiding your eyes: “No, I didn‘t want to get you in trouble. I was just mad.”
Of course, she made the decision to kiss you in the heat of the moment, led by her emotions and it might have consequences for you too but you could not blame her.
“We all were. And rightfully so, I mean the first leg might have been the best game of the season…”
Your girlfriend let out a tired breath: “It‘s been a weird season.”
“You can really say that.”, you nodded in agreement.
Still in thought, Niamh continued: “I didn't say anything when she first called our relationship inappropriate… but it has been bothering me the whole time.”
“Me too to be honest. But I didn’t want it to affect your captaincy.”, you admitted.
“I should have said something.”
You carefully put your hand on her upper arm and tried to find her gaze: “And loose the armband? She'll leave at the end of the season and we're staying.”
“Now that Millie is back, she will get it anyway.”, your girlfriend sighed exasperated.
“Probably., you paused for a second before adding in a hopeful tone, but we can stop hiding now, right?”
“We should have stopped much earlier. We owe that to our teammates who taught us that it’s okay.”, she confessed quietly while placing her head on your lap.
“That’s true to Pernille and Magda..”, you began.
“Fran and Maren.”, Niamh mumbled while your fingers ran soothingly through her still slightly wet hair.
“Aswell as Jess and Ann-Katrin.”
“And there are young players looking up to us.”, the defender said earnestly.
“Right. I don’t want them to feel ashamed for whom they love.”, you whispered as you wished away the upcoming tears with your free hand.
“Come here.”, your girlfriend asked you to lay down beside her which you did.
With closed eyes Niamh kissed away your hot tears.
“I love you.”, you told her, smiling sadly.
“I love you too. On and off the pitch. No matter what anyone says.”, the defender responded seriously before pulling you into a close hug.
“Do you think you can fall asleep tonight?”, you asked her cautiously.
“I’ll try too.”, she answered honestly.
“Sleep well, Niamh.”, you wished her goodnight.
“You too.”
Both of you were drifting away into an exhausted sleep, this season has been tiring. In the morning you were feeling less sad because you could finally stop loving your favourite person in secret and live your truth.
Even though not everyone might like that fact, but you felt like a heavy weight has been lifted from your shoulders. You loved Niamh and it was okay if everyone knew about your love for each other.
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matan4il · 5 months
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Today's update post will be dedicated to the lawsuit that South Africa (SA) submitted to the International Court of Justice (ICJ, the UN's judicial arm), with the discussion held this coming Thursday. I first wrote about it here.
Why is SA suing Israel specifically for the crime of genocide, and not for the easier to prove ('coz it doesn't involve intent) charge of committing war crimes? Well, because Israel has signed the international convention for the prevention of genocide. It actually signed it pretty early on, in 1949. Just 4 years after the end of the Holocaust (it applies to Israel since 1951). What signing this convention means, is that even if Israel isn't committing a genocide, and SA knows it isn't, SA also knows the only way to drag Israel to the ICJ is to accuse it of this crime, so... surprise! SA did.
Curiously, it turns out that the Palestinian Authority (PA) has secretly been helping SA with filing this lawsuit (as reported on Jan 6, on Kan News, source in Hebrew). The PA has a right to sue Israel at the ICJ, but it might be using SA as a proxy, because it is afraid of being sued itself (it can, as an idea, be sued for financially supporting the genocidally motivated actions of Hamas, due to its "pay for slay" program, where the PA pays Palestinians salaries for their terrorist activities, and the pay is greater the more lethal the attack. Because yes, the PA will be paying salaries for the Oct 7 massacre, despite it being carried out by Hamas, the Palestinian Islamic Jihad and other terrorists), and I guess they think the best defense is an offense. Also, by having SA file the lawsuit for them, the PA is making sure another country will be drawing all of the fire for it, such as the condemnation from the US, calling the lawsuit "counterproductive" and "not based on facts," which was issued against SA, not against the PA.
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Also, weirdly it seems that the issue of intent, which should make the lawsuit more difficult to prove, is actually what most of the case is based on!? The lawsuit is less about what Israel has been doing, and more about quotes from Israeli officials, that supposedly expose genocidal intent. Many of these quotes are presented in a misleading way, stuff like omitting that the quotes were clearly in reference to obliterating Hamas, presented them instead as if these Israeli officials were talking about obliterating the Palestinians.
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So basically, SA is guilty of precisely the first point I was making in this post, conflating Hamas with the Palestinians, but only when it can be used to attack the Jewish state.
I watched an interesting panel held about this subject, and one legal expert said the right thing to do, would be for the ICJ to point out that SA is abusing the court for cynical political purposes, that its lawsuit doesn't meet the minimal requirements to be filed, making it very obvious that they're just weaponizing the court and abusing its power to hound Israel, and for this, the lawsuit should be thrown out immediately, without even getting to trial. Another participant, a former Israeli diplomat to the UN, said that yes, that's what should be done. But this lawsuit will allow the judges to rule on the most burning subject on the global agenda these days, so they won't throw the case out and condemn SA for filing this frivolous lawsuit.
Another panelist suggested that Israel should go on the offense, and point out at the ICJ, that by virtue of SA being financially supported and invested in by Iran, and thus unsurprisingly supporting the Islamist Iranian regime, which is the one that financed Hamas' activity (including the massacre of Oct 7, and the recently exposed attempts to target Jewish institutes in Europe), it's actually SA that is supporting the genocide of the Jews. I doubt this is the line of defense Israel will take, but it's an interesting point to keep in mind.
In conclusion, regarding what this false lawsuit really means:
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SA's lawsuit basically seeks to rob the Jewish state of the right to defend its population against a genocidal threat. That is INSANE. It is, in practice, pro-genocide, and insane that it's even entertained.
(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)
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satorubi · 2 years
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# JET LAGGED ! — toji fushiguro
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✩༄ toji fucks you dumb on a private jet.
• pairing - ceo! toji x wife! reader
• content warning - f! reader, public fucking??, dom! toji, sub! reader, doggystyle, throat-fucking, ass slapping, use of pet names such as ( baby, slut, mama ) breeding kink, reader has a tramp stamp and toji has hand tats idk why.
• a/n - hiii omg, i had fun writing this one. please excuse any mistakes i was high making this. 🧍🏽‍♀️i love u all and thank u for reading, i hope u enjoyyy <33
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you poured a glass of champagne before getting comfy in your seat. your husband, toji, had strung you along on a business trip to europe. you’ve always wanted to go — and he knew that — so he had a thought.
why not bring his favorite woman to accompany him on this journey?
you took tiny sips from your glass as you read over a few pages of your current book, toji sitting across from you with your legs on his lap. he was rubbing your freshly painted toes all the while staring at you like a starved man.
“everything okay, my love?” you ask, furrowing your eyebrows in an inquisitive manner. you looked so damn cute. you’d gotten your hair done before the trip — those lengthy, pretty braids that he loved to pull on while you cried out his name from under him.
“you look good.”
if there was anything you knew about toji, it’d be that he hated being pissed off — and that’s exactly what you’d done. being such a brat that you couldn’t wait until you landed at your destination, you decided to fuck with him in an attempt to get him all riled up — but you were playing with fire here.
if there was anything you knew about toji, it’d be that he hated being pissed off — and that’s exactly what you’d done. being such a brat that you couldn’t wait until you landed at your destination, you decided to fuck with him in an attempt to get him all riled up — but you were playing with fire here.
“i should bend your ass over and fuck you right now, but that wouldn’t be very appropriate of me now would it?”
your lashes batted at him, a slight smirk on your pretty face. “what’s stopping you?” you test, earning a look from toji. he wanted you — so badly too, but he knew the flight attendants would most definitely hear your moans echo throughout the plane.
cause when toji hit it, toji hit it good.
“what’re you bein’ a brat for?”
“what’s wrong, baby. can’t play your own game?” he knew what you were referring to. the little kitchen mishap this morning before your departure. he’d been teasing you — kissing the sweet spot on your neck in an attempt to have a quickie before heading to the airport. the two of you were already behind on time and you knew how important this trip was — toji, on the other hand, was willing to put it on pause.
“y/n, watch your mouth.”
“you started it,” you mumble, but rather quietly cause you knew that if he heard that fall from your mouth you’d be in a load of troubl—
“what was that?”
you pretended not to hear him, quickly averting your eyes back to the book in your hands. toji removed your foot from his lap and arose from his seat, now standing directly in front of you, being face to face with his bulge.
“take my pants off.”
your doe eyes gape up at him, “toji we’re landing in two hours, would you sit down and wait until—”
“does it look like i give a fuck? take my pants off.”
he had to be joking. there was no way he’d fuck you on this plane right now — not when there was a possibility of someone seeing you. toji was a private man. you’d told him once before that you were into the idea of fucking in public, but he shut you down — saying, ‘that pussy is only for me to see.’ he liked to keep you to himself, although that statement didn’t really seem to apply right now.
you couldn’t deny the pool between your thighs as you reached for his belt. you peered up at him just to see him already staring down at you with a stern look on his face. once you removed his slacks and underwear, his thick cock sprung out, hitting his stomach and leaking with precum.
he obviously wasn’t too mad about your attitude.
“you know what to do.”
and you did — without another hesitant thought, you stuck your tongue out and licked at his slit. after a few more licks, you engulfed him into your mouth, lips closing around his tip as you slowly began to move your head back and forth. this only earned praise from toji, him muttering things like ‘yes, just like that’ and ‘such a fuckin’ slut’ from above you.
the praise only encouraged you to take him deeper, your head moving faster and his hand coming to the back of your head in a team effort. you were swallowing him up, almost the whole thing, but he was wide and your mouth was only so big.
“that’s it, take it all. feel it hittin’ the back of your throat, hm?” he asks, watching your eyes begin to tear up as your mouth produced the most lewd sounds he’s ever heard. you were gagging and moaning around him, trying your absolute best to make him proud. toji noticed your fists beginning to bawl as your nose got closer to his pelvis.
you poor thing. with a a few more sucks, he allowed you to let him go, letting your back hit the seat as you coughed and caught your breath. you had a mixture of pre-cum and saliva on your face — and he was still leaking.
with his dick in his hand, he lifted your chin up, allowing himself to get a better look at you. your plump lips were swollen and you were breathing hard. his pretty girl. toji tapped his thick cock on your lips as you gave him a small grin.
by the look on your husbands face, you knew he was about to wreck you. you loved when he got like this — frustrated and determined, even if it ended with you not being to walk straight the next day.
“turn around and arch your back. lemme’ see that ass.”
you wasted no time doing so, hiking your dress up and moving your thong to the side, showcasing your pretty cunt that was just glistening and waiting to be stretched. your pussy drove him crazy. from how pretty it was, to the way it sucked him in when you fucked — it was a blessing and you felt like heaven.
bringing his tatted hands to your ass, he spread your cheeks apart to give him a better view of your thumping hole. he kneeled down, placing his tongue on your folds to get you nice and ready — even though you were already soaking, and he wanted a taste.
“ooo- fuck, baby!” you yelp, feeling him tongue fuck you for a brief moment, then sending a slap to your ass. before standing, he spat on your cunt and used his thumb to spread the liquid across your folds. with a hard cock in his palm, he aligned himself with your entrance, rubbing his tip against it.
“look at how wet you are, doll. i could just slide right in.”
“toji— please, fuck! stop teasing me.”
that response sent a harsh slap to your ass, “talk to me nice. that mouth is what got you in this position to begin with.” he wasn’t wrong. you did in fact get yourself into this — but you’d do it over and over again.
“t-toji, please put it in baby. i need you. i’m sorry..” you cry out, a bit too loud, as you inch your ass back on him to feel something. laughing at you desperation, toji finally slides his cock in — your pussy warm and tight. you were squeezing him just right, but you were holding back for some reason.
“it’s too big— aah, oh my god.”
“don’t run, mama. remember all the shit you were talking before, hm? now you can’t take dick?” he asks, his head tilting to the side as he works your pussy. the stretch was a mix of pleasure and pain. the man wasn’t even all the way in yet and you were begging for him to take some out.
after a few more gentle strokes, toji’s speed eventually picked up. you could feel every crevice of his cock glide against you and he felt so fucking good. he was giving you long strokes, pushing all the way in and then sliding all the way out leaving only a bit of his tip in every time.
he was so deep.
“goddamn, y/n. you’re creamin’ on it, such a good girl,” toji groaned as your ass began to clap back on him, your flesh coming into contact with his stomach as you left a white ring around his cock like a snail trail. the sight of his dick sliding in and out of you had his face scrunching up as he followed your rhythm, giving you hard strokes.
you reached out your arm behind you, pushing and clawing at his stomach, “oh— aah, toji, you’re in my stomach baby! fuck please cum in me, i want it so bad!” you shout. toji was honestly surprised no one has come to check on the two of you yet. you were so noisy — maybe they got the hint.
“make me cum, love. you can do it—fuck! pussy’s takin’ me so well. look at that— in and out in and out.” his inducing words only motivated you more, your ass jiggling with every thrust he gave you and your pussy singing a pretty song. toji could feel his stomach tighten up when you came again, clenching around him with the intention of milking him for all he’s got.
“shit—m’ bout to cum. fuck, yes. gonna’ fill this pussy up.”
with one final thrust, toji came. his grunts and small moans sounded so good — almost making you want to cum again on the spot. he lazily slid out of you, your pussy making a squelch sound as you released his cock. he kissed the tattoo on your lower back and all the way up your spine before planting one on your lips.
“are you still mad at me baby?” you ask with an innocent, yet breathless smile on your face. he slaps your ass playfully and you wiggle it, giggling. after toji pulls his pants up, he helps you fix yourself up — adjusting the straps on your dress and putting your shoes back on your feet.
“thank you for bringing me, toji.”
the scar on his lip turning upwards into a smile as he mushed your face in his hands, giving you a kiss.
“anything for you.”
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jenosbigtoe · 7 months
Note
Hey I love ur blog and ur writing. Could u pls make another alpha jeno 🙏🙏🙏 .....no pressure.
mdni. nsfw 18+
pairing: step brother!alpha!lee jeno x reader
warnings: exes to lovers, stepcest (don’t read if you’re uncomfortable), abo, masturbation (f), marking, scenting, mating press, creampie, unprotected sex,
a/n: i felt like a part 2 to the one i already made wouldn’t make any sense so i added a twist… i kinda went crazy um it wasn’t supposed to be this long
when you found out your mom was marrying your first love’s, lee jeno’s, dad, you cried for weeks.
“m-mom, why would you do this to me?” you sobbed, tears rolling down your puffy eyes. “you know what he meant to me.”
“well y/n i’m sure you know what it’s like for an unmated omega to live in this world,” she responded, rubbing your back affectionately. “i love his dad and he loves me. we are getting married. it’s not like you’re even together anymore so it shouldn’t even matter.”
you jerked away from the contact and stomped all the way back to your room to cry even harder in your pillow all night.
you and your mother moved into your new stepdad’s house the next month. it all felt so fast. one day you found out your mother was marrying the father of the love of your life and now you’re moving into his house. how were you supposed to face your now stepbrother who was also your ex? the last time you’ve seen him was at that stupid wedding and it seemed he was barely acknowledging your existence. what went wrong between you two? he was the first alpha you ever fell in love with. the only alpha you’ve ever loved. the only alpha you still love. you wanted to be mates with him forever, have pups and a life together. and now he was your stepbrother.
it was torture, living in that house with him. knowing that being in love with your now stepbrother was oh so wrong. god, his scent was everywhere. his scent that has always driven you mad, making you so needy and wanting his affection. you would catch glimpses of him around the house, causing your omega to go crazy inside. he would be in the kitchen drinking a glass of water as you walked in for a snack. he’d be working out in the home gym right when you’d go to use the treadmill. he’d be on the couch, watching a tv show as you passed by the living room to get to the bathroom. every single time you wanted to snuggle up against his body and bury your face in his chest. you wanted him to give you one of his grins reserved only for you and call you his omega again. but he was only ever cordial to you, just acknowledging your presence every time you walked by but never going past that. nothing more than a small smile and a wave when he saw you, making you so upset and frustrated. you wanted him so bad.
as fresh newlyweds, your mom and stepdad decided it was a perfect time to go on a three month long honeymoon in europe and leave you alone with your stepbrother at the house. you begged and pleaded for your mom to just wait a little longer to let you adjust to the new environment before leaving you alone in that house, but she was set on enjoying her time with her new husband. so you were left with lee jeno, your step brother, or in your eyes, your alpha. your mate. the one that got away.
for the first week, you pouted and locked yourself in your room, refusing to leave except to eat or use the bathroom. and you avoided jeno even more than usual. the entire time you’d been living at that house, you and he left each other alone, only communicating when necessary. but your sudden reclusiveness even had him worried, as he knocked on your door many times during your tantrum. but you refused to answer, knowing that if you saw him you would go crazy.
then you had the perfect idea. why don’t you get revenge on your stupid mother for being so selfish and doing this to you? marrying your first love’s dad, making you live under the same roof as your ex and his father that you’ve known for only 2 months, and leaving you alone with said ex for three whole months? and what better way to exact revenge than to get with her new husband’s son? really in your eyes it was a win-win. you would get revenge on your mom for putting you in this position and you would get back with jeno, whom you’re still so in love with. (really it was just a win-win for you but who cares.)
for the next month, you used everything you knew about jeno to slowly drive him crazy over you. you started by wearing the little outfits you knew he loved seeing on you. the first time he saw you wearing a thin tank that showed off your plush tits with his favorite lacy bra, you didn’t miss how his eyes almost bulged out of his head. but jeno was a gentleman and continued treating you like normal. you would wear the skimpiest loungewear—shorts that hugged your ass and barely covered your panties, camis that would squeeze your tits, sometimes even going without a bra to expose your nipples. while jeno seemed like he didn’t notice the sudden change in your attire, you knew him better than that. you noticed every wandering eye, every stare that was just a second too long, every avoided eye contact. sometimes you would see him adjust his pants ever so slightly so you wouldn’t notice his growing erection. but you always did anyways.
you started initiating real conversations with him, asking him about his day and what he’s up to. you got a lot closer and more comfortable with him, and he with you. it seemed you were starting to become almost friends again, despite the weird exes and step siblings thing.
then you moved on to getting physically closer to him. when he was in the kitchen, you’d brush up behind him, making careful sure to press your tits against his back in attempts to scoot past. or he would be watching a movie on the couch and you’d saunter up in your little outfits saying, “ooh, i love this movie. can i watch?” as you plopped yourself next to him. you would complain about being cold and beg to lay under the blankets with him. you would snuggle yourself flush to his body underneath the covers, rubbing your head against his scent gland and scenting yourself. or even at night, sometimes you would knock on his door with fat tears in your eyes saying, “jen, i can’t sleep again. it’s hard trying to adjust living in this new house.” and jeno is so sweet, he’d welcome you with open arms and let you cuddle him in his bed as you fall asleep with a smirk in your face.
“best step brother ever,” you’d sometimes tell him, not missing how his body would tense up at the title.
it seemed like your plan to seduce jeno back into your arms was working, but not at the speed you wanted. by now, you wanted him jumping your bones and fucking you like animals. he should’ve claimed you as his mate once again. but he was set on being a gentleman, always so respectful of your space despite all the signs you were giving him. you saw the lustfilled stares he’d give you when he thought you weren’t looking. you saw how he’d have to adjust his pants to hide his erection when you brush up against his cock or show off your tits and ass.
so you decided to take a risk, in hopes of speeding up the process. you were tired of being so needy for him, knowing he wanted you just as bad. you needed your alpha, who the fuck cares if he was legally your step brother now? he was your mate first.
you knew jeno’s schedule like the back of your hand at this point. so you knew it would be a good 30 minutes before he’d come home from going to the gym with his buddies. taking this fact into consideration, you carefully snuck into jeno’s room. you loved his room so much. everything about it was so him, every little trinket or poster or piece of decor was a piece of lee jeno. his scent drenched the entire room and hit your nose as soon as you walked in, leaving you a melting puddle of mush. you had loved his scent so much, and it was the strongest in his room. you felt your panties dampen with the smell of his sexy intoxicating scent.
you heart was alight with nerves. slowly, you stripped down to just your bra and panties, leaving your shorts and tank on the side of his bed. it was his favorite set, the white lacy bra and matching white lacy panties with a small pink bow resting above your ass. you laid on his bed, turning your head to inhale deeply into his pillow. you let out a soft sigh of satisfaction.
slowly, you reached your hand down into your panties. you were already wet just from smelling his scent. you let one hand grope your breasts as you started teasing your hole with your fingers, going around the rim before slightly pumping a finger in and taking it back out. you imagine your fingers to be his, teasing and playing with your leaking pussy so good.
but your fingers were too small, you needed more. you added another finger and another finger, trying to pump them in and out of your pussy to hit that sweet spot but you couldn’t. your fingers couldn’t hit deep enough, couldn’t fill up your pussy like you needed. you were growing frustrated, tears pricked your eyes.
you didn’t even notice him at the door, watching your every move with pupils blown and lustfilled eyes.
“now what do we have here, baby?” jeno growled out, taking slow steps towards your needy body.
you whined and bucked your hips against your hand, one hand squeezing your tit and the other fingers deep inside your cunt. “jen..” you whimpered.
jeno walked over to the bed and crawled on top of your body, taking your hands and pinning them above your head in one hand and gripping your chin tightly with the other hand.
“you tease me for weeks, knowing how crazy you drive me. knowing i can’t do jack shit because you’re supposed to be my ex-girlfriend, my step sister. and now i catch you in my own bed, shoving fingers into your cunt?” he whispered lowly into your ears. you shuddered. he sounded pissed. and you loved it.
you rubbed your legs together. “oops,” you feigned innocence. at this point, your pussy was sopping and dripping onto the sheets below.
he spat out a “that’s it” and ripped your underwear clean off. he used your ripped panties to bound your wrists above your head. “don’t fucking move, brat,” he warned, as he stripped off his own clothes. “you’re getting it this time.”
your heart was about to beat out of your chest. this is what you’ve been fantasizing about for weeks. when he pulled out his angry cock, you almost drooled. he was so so big, tip red and drooling, veins running up and down his curved shaft. and his balls were so big and heavy. you wondered how he ever managed tk fit inside your little pussy, but he was your mate. of course he was going to fit.
with one deep thrust, he bottomed out in your tight cunt. you screamed in delight, body squirming and thrashing beneath his powerful thrusts. he used his strength to pin your hips down and prevent you from moving away from his thrusts, thick muscles bulging from effort.
“oh fuck,” you moaned out.
he put your legs up on your shoulders and smacked your ass. “fuck this pussy is just as good as i remember.”
he went impossibly harder and faster with every thrust. lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin and heavy pants and moans filled the room. you struggled against the tie binding your wrists together but jeno growled and held you down tighter.
“fuck, you’re mine now, baby. never leaving you ever again. this pussy is mine. my girl. my omega. my mate,” he panted against your lips, pressing a deep kiss on your mouth.
your pussy gushed and clenched around his hard cock. “alpha,” you whined.
he used his weight to drive even deeper into you, tip kissing your cervix so sweetly. he nuzzled his head against your neck and starting scenting you. “my omega. mine…”
at this point, your mind was turning numb with pleasure. you were in a complete state of bliss. you’d never want anything more than being with your mate, your alpha like this.
“fuck, gonna cum, baby. gonna cum inside this delicious little pussy. everyone’s gonna know you’re mine when you’re round with my pups, when you have my mark on your neck,” he grunted.
you squirmed and bucked your hips up to meet his thrusts. “yes, please, alpha cum inside me! want your pups so bad. want to be your mate forever,” you whined, nuzzling your face into his wild hair.
he gave a few last deep thrusts before bottoming out completely as he came deep inside your dripping pussy. you gave him a sweet kiss as his cock twitched and throbbed deep inside.
he cradled your head and laid his forehead against yours. “y/n, i never stopped loving you. i’m sorry it took this long for me to tell you this but i want you to be mine. i don’t give a fuck about what anyone else will say, what our parents will say. i want you to be my mate forever,” he whispered, staring deep into your eyes.
it felt like he was laying his soul bare to you. tears pricked your eyes, this was all you had ever wanted. “oh, alpha,” you started. he wiped away the stray tears that fell from your eyes. “i missed you so much. i never stopped loving you. nothing will stop me from loving you. i want to be your mate forever.”
he leaned his head down to prod at the flesh of your neck, grazing your skin slightly with his teeth. you shivered and nodded your head, giving him permission to go further.
he left a deep mark on your neck, biting just hard enough to break skin and seal his bond on you. “baby, you’re mine now. no going back ever again.”
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notroosterbradshaw · 1 year
Text
Stay the Night
here’s some old-school Bucky in Wakanda smut. I didn’t think I’d publish Bucky stuff here, yet here we are. Hope you enjoy x 
18+, smut, fluff. It's just you and Bucky in Wakanda while the team is away. He tends to his flock, you wish he tended to you.
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“Today is the literal meaning of ‘hotter than Hades’,” you announced as you collapsed less than gracefully on a broken tree log as Bucky Barnes shot you a look over his shoulder, sweat protruding from every pore in his tanned, muscular form, a tendril of long, dark hair falling into his glassy blue eyes from the loose ponytail behind his head.
Jesus, a man should never look that damn good, you thought, fanning yourself with your shirt, the material sticking to your drenched skin. Thank god the heat hid your blush.
“Bored?” he asked, scooping up a hay bail and loosening it for the goats he tended to munch on.
“Radio silence,” you replied. “I kind of feel like I’m in the way of the locals when I can’t contact the team. I haven’t heard from Nat, Sam or Steve in a few days. I am pretty useless at times like this.”
“That’s not true,” Bucky said, pointing at the water bottle you had parked beside you. “You brought water. I assume that’s why you’re out here in the midday sun,” he teased as you tossed it to him and he caught it easily with his right hand, twisting the cap off and guzzling the cool refreshment.
Every movement was pure sex, you sighed quietly as his throat bobbed, water falling from the creases of his lips and down his chin. Life seemed much fairer before Bucky Barnes.
“Thanks, Buck,” you rolled your eyes as he finished the bottle easily, crushing it in his palm and laughing at you, walking back to hand it to you.
“No, no,” he nudged your boot with his. “Thank you,” he went back to stacking and distributing hay as you said a quiet goodbye and told him you’d see him later.
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You hated when the team was away.
While you’d made some friends in Wakanda, you were still finding your way and mostly felt in the way of working alongside the Wakandan defence and communications teams. They used a lot more sophisticated tech than Stark had ever provided you and you’d never admit it out loud, the tech was somewhat confusing at times, thanks to its gross advancement over what you were used to.
You’d always be thankful for T’Challa and his family for taking you into the palace grounds, a necessity, T’Challa explained. It was beyond amazing and his lovely mother, Ramonda, fussed over you to ensure you were comfortable at all times. It was nice to feel so welcome, but so lonely without your family.
Steve, Nat and Sam had left days ago. Wanda and Vis were off the radar (lie, you knew they were having some kind of rendezvous in Europe and had no intentions of interrupting whatever was or had developed between them).
That left Bucky.
After he’d been woken from cryo, Shuri had run every test known to man on him to assist in the removal of the trigger words, he’d gratefully taken up residence away from the hustle and bustle of the wondrous city and hauled his ass out to the farmlands, simply requesting the peace, privacy and quiet. For the first time in over 100 years, he was able to be his own man without fear of retribution. Sure, the dark memories flickered occasionally, but the words would never hurt him again.
He enjoyed the serenity in the sounds of nature, with the exception of an iPod that Sam had gifted to get him up to speed on more modern music than the 1940’s bops Bucky was more accustomed to –
You sighed, hearing the knock at the door, interrupting the reverie of mindless TV. It was late, too late for guests. After dinner, you’d showered and retired to your PJ’s – your threadbare, well-worn Yankees shirt (your first souvenir of New York City when SHIELD moved you there years earlier regardless of your disinterest in baseball) and loose PJ pants. “Coming,” you replied, pushing yourself up to open the door, surprised to see Bucky on the other side - cleaned up, void of sweat and dust in lazy sweat pants and a white t-shirt. A casual Bucky Barnes. This new development was not helping your crush. Not in the slightest. “Hey. You lost?” you teased lightly.
He showed you a bottle of Glenfidditch and you chuckled a little, moving from the way to let him in. Closing the door behind him, you leaned back against it, a little confused about his visit as Bucky simply didn’t visit anyone aside from Steve or Shuri. You only visited Bucky occasionally to make sure he wasn’t segregating himself, but he did usually prefer his own company when Steve wasn’t around.
“Got ice?” he asked, going to the kitchenette for a couple of tumblers.
“I don’t actually – if I’m going to drink aged whiskey, I’ll be doing it properly.”
“Ooh,” Bucky cooed, a small grin growing on his lips. “A woman after my own heart.”
“Blame Steve – a few years back when we all moved to the Tower… fuck, just after Ultron maybe? Steve brought out a bottle of this stuff and I’ve been a convert ever since. He said you guys would destroy bottles together.”
“Well, he did. I would drink responsibly though I didn’t know at the time I could put them back as well as Steve could with the serum running through my veins,” he said, bringing the glasses to the coffee table, cracking the top and pouring you each a glass. “Are you gonna join me or hang out by the door?”
“Sorry,” your face flushed as you skittered over and sat at the other end of the couch. He handed you a glass and gave you gentle ‘cheers’ before you sat in silence for a while, enjoying the smooth amber liquid. “…Bucky, if you don’t mind me asking, why are you here?”
Bucky raised an eyebrow. “I dunno – you seemed a bit forlorn today. Thought I’d try and be a friend,” he shrugged. “You’ve been pretty accommodating to me since we got here. I guess I could repay the favour even if you’re only checking in on me for Steve. And you’ve got air conditioning,” he tossed in the joke to try and lighten the mood.
“Steve didn’t ask me to keep tabs on you,” you admitted.
“Oh,” Bucky said, sipping his whiskey and easing back on the couch. “Do you like it out here?”
You chewed your lip, dropping your eyes to the glass. “I mean, it’s a hellova lot better than being shipped out to The Raft,” you admitted as he stifled a chuckle.
“True.”
“If I’m going to be on the run for associating with the team, it might as well be in one of the most securest places on the planet.”
“You chose well,” Bucky agreed.
“Would have been stupid for me not to take it. I owe T’Challa, and Steve, a lot.”
“They’re good men.”
“Absolutely.”
Silence overtook the room again though there was no discomfort with it.
“Thanks for havin’ a drink with me,” Bucky said as he polished off his glass. “It’s getting late,” he got to his feet.
“Oh,” you said, surprised. “Okay.”
“I don’t want to impose,” he said with a gentle shrug, collecting his tumbler.
“You’re not imposing. It’s nice to have the company, to be honest,” you confessed.
“'Nother glass then?”
“Definitely,” you said, hoping not to appear too eager. Bucky gave a small nod and poured again.
“I know I’m not much of a talker,” he told you as you sat and cradled your glass close to your chest.
“I just enjoy the company regardless of noise levels,” you shrugged. “It’s different when the team is here, but when they aren’t…”
“When they aren’t?” he pressed.
“I have too much time with my thoughts.”
He raised a glass. “I hear that.”
Your glass joined his. “Why are you in the farmlands then and not in the palace?”
He nodded slowly as you hoped you hadn’t overstepped the mark. Blame the first glass of booze – less than tipsy you would never ask such a question. “Just tryin’ to earn my keep – least I can do since T’Challa is harbouring an international war criminal, assassin, murderer – ”
You gave a gentle laugh. “He’s not harbouring you.”
“Protecting me then,” Bucky corrected himself.
“Maybe protecting you,” you admitted, agreeing.
You both continued a polite conversation, mostly about Steve and the team before you both started dozing at your respective ends of the couch. “I should really head out now,” Bucky said.
“Stay, it’s a million degrees out there.”
He gave you an incredulous look that told you he knew what you were saying, but staying was still a terrible idea. Suddenly overwhelmed, you realised it completely sounded like a blatant invite for sex. It wasn’t, you thought. Was it?
Trying telling your libido that.
“If you stay on your side of the bed, Bucky, and I stay on mine, we won’t have any issues,” you try to regain your composure.
“Are you completely sure?” he looked about as convinced as you thought you were.
“My God, it’s sleep,” you told him. “I would never deny you, of all people, Bucky, sleep.”
Bucky nodded slowly. “Okay. Thank you.”
“It’s far too hot to stay out there overnight. Enjoy a night’s sleep in the air con,” you joked. “If you enjoy sleeping in comfy climates, hey, you might even move in here.”
Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Here?”
You blinked a few times, not catching his tease. “Yeah, like here, the palace.”
He laughed. “Okay.”
“Oh, you thought in here. With me,” you barked a laugh, getting off the couch and heading for the bed, Bucky following a safe distance away. You stifled your discomfort with snark, “Oh, darling,” you leaned forward to cup Bucky’s stubbly chin. “Don’t think so highly of yourself.”
“Oh darlin’, don’t fall for me so quickly. It’ll only end in heartbreak,” he mocked in return. You laughed incredulously, thinking to yourself, ‘too fuckin’ late, buddy’ and moving to your side of the King bed and pulling the pillows towards yourself.
“If you’re truly concerned, here. Build a pillow wall with me. Put that hay bailin’ practice to good use.”
He sighed with a gentle smile, he was thoroughly enjoying this cheeky banter you’d suddenly worked into your conversation and helped you build the Great Wall of pillows.
“Perfect,” you said, fixing the last pillow in place.
“That is an impressive pillow wall,” Bucky concluded, stifling a laugh. “Failsafe.”
“Make yourself comfy,” you told him, laying back as he pulled off his soft cotton t-shirt and folded it, placing it neatly on the bedside table next to him, a habit he’d picked up in military training in the 40s and never really lost it, no matter what control he was under, you imagined.
“Thank you, sweetheart,” he told you. “It is a lot nicer inside than out.”
“Told you,” you replied with a chuckle, raising a fist to him over the wall.
“What is that?” he chucked.
“My knuckles? You’ve never knocked ‘knuckles’ with someone? A fist bump?”
He laughed louder. “No, I’ve never fist-bumped.”
“Then hit my knuckles with yours,” you instructed as Bucky did as he was told.  Still confused for a second, his hand met yours gently before opening and clutching your wrist in his warm, rough-skinned hand and bringing your open hand to his lips. The rules of the pillow wall were suddenly crumbling before you. Destroyed so easily.
“You need to behave,” you told him, suddenly very nervous.
“I’m finding it so hard. We’re here and I know it’s not just me that is feeling this, sugar,” he continued kissing to your wrist and moving towards your inner elbow as he got to his knees. Your body betrayed you as goose pimples shot up and down your spine and you found yourself sitting up opposite him. “All I wanna do is compromise this pillow wall.”
You could cut the tension in the cool room with a knife as your eyes burned into his. Chewing his lip, he made no secret of his intentions as he licked his mouth and walloped the pillow wall away.
Suddenly there was no divide and you were looking at each like they were your last meals. “Can I kiss you?” he asked shyly.
“If you don’t, I’m going to kiss you,” you retorted as he skimmed across the sheets to you and pulled your body flush to his. He sunk his fingers into your hair and pulled your face to his, leaving a small kiss on your waiting lips.
“Is that okay?” he asked, almost afraid.
“More,” you demanded as a reply. There was nothing forgiving about it – you were suddenly craving him – his mouth, his touch, his body, his scent and he was surrounding you in a way no other person had before.
He moved back a little. “One minute – I gotta explain…” he breathed gently. “This is kind of my first time being intimate in a long time. I know this,” he looked at his left shoulder, ashamed. “I know it’s not sexy. And if you don’t want to be with me because of it - ”
You grasped his face in your hands, forcing his eyes to meet yours and kissed him lightly. “Believe me when I say I do not care, Bucky. I know you do but I need you to know, this changes nothing for me.”
“I’ve imagined this so many times with you, pleasing you and now we’re here, I just…” his soft Brooklyn accent rumbled. “I just imagined it as me. The old me.”
Your head spun – he felt the same way? Jesus Christ, assassin school taught him surely how to fool you into believing he barely knew you existed.
“Well, I only know this, Bucky – I’m pretty crazy about you.”
His eyes flickered. Maybe it was emotion, you weren’t sure.
“You’re the sexiest man I’ve ever seen.”
This time, he blushed.
“So maybe, you should just lay back,” you said, helping guide him to do so, his head settling amongst the remains of the disastrous pillow wall and you kissed him, he moaned just loud enough to hear. “And we have a good time, okay?”
He nodded, nervously. “Okay.”
“Now, relax,” you said, unsure where your confidence was coming from but you knew he needed you to lead him and you were going to treat him right. He deserved this – you, and all of you. All for him.
You ungracefully tossed the sheets from the bed, they’d just be getting in the way and crawled towards Bucky’s feet, grabbing the loose elasticised ankles and pulling at them, the sweats he wore drawn from his slender hips, descending his powerful thighs and calves before you disregarded them all together, leaving him solely in boxer briefs. Calvin Klein, how so very rude.
And dear, if your mouth didn’t water at the surprise he poorly hid in them.
Kissing his ankle and working your lips up the inside of his legs, tickling behind his knee, he shuddered. He shuddered hard. “Fuck,” he muttered. You smiled against his skin, lips moving again, your hands massaging his powerful thighs. Stopping at his waist, you crept onto his lap and pulled away your shirt. Bucky sighed, his hand reaching out to touch you. You leaned closer to him as his arm skirted around you, pulling your body flush to his to kiss you, your tongue tracing his full lips as he enthusiastically opened his mouth for your tongues to meet. His hand scalded your skin as he groped at you lightly, cascaded your side and tangled into your hair, deepening the kiss as his hips started to move beneath your body, his cock needing the friction.
You paused and raised a finger to him. He raised a confused eyebrow as you scampered off him to lose your sweats, no panties underneath. You didn’t let him get a good, long look at you before you moved to rid him of his boxers, hard cock free and you gave him a few encouraging pumps, his eyes rolling back. “Sweet Jesus,” he begged for mercy. “Please.”
“Please?” you raised a teasing eyebrow and sat on your knees between his muscular thighs. He was asking you to go down on him. You’d never felt so willing before to please a man as you were for to do for Bucky.
“Please,” he tried again as you could see this man didn’t need to be teased, he just needed to be wanted. Adored. Loved.
“Okay. Okay, now you sit back, Barnes. And you let me take care of the rest.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he tucked his arm behind his head, licking his lips as you took him in your palms before an encouraging kiss to the head and taking him into your mouth. “Dear God,” he managed to say through groans. His hand found your hair again, pushing your hair from your face to see what he thought was the most beautiful mouth he’d ever seen work over his body. “Baby, that is so good. So hot,” he encouraged, clutching roughly but not enough to hurt, just enough to spur you on. You continued your ministrations for a few minutes more before he guided you away from him, gasping. “Baby, stop. I’ll come.”
You blinked at him. “That’s okay,” you promised. “I’m a big girl, I can take it.”
He grinned at you. “I’m sure you can. But I don’t want to come in your mouth,” he admitted shyly.
“Oh,” you gave a gentle nod. “I thought I was doing something wrong.”
He shook his head, alarmed. “God, no. You were a little too good at what you were doing,” he reassured you. “Get up here,” he pulled you to his face to meet him for a lingering kiss. “You could kill a man with that mouth.”
“I doubt that,” you got suddenly shy, burying your blushing face in his neck as he guided your face back to his.
“Don’t get bashful now, sweetheart,” he gazed at you like you were about the best damn thing he’d ever seen. You didn’t know how or why, but the look turned you on more than any act prior to right then. You just wanted to make him happy, release him, and feel him come apart under your hands. “I have an admission to make, and fuck, I hope this doesn’t come across as shitty…” he said quietly.
“What’s that?” you asked, suddenly feeling very exposed regardless of you lack of clothing.
“Uhh… I don’t know, logistically, how I make this work without you on toppa me, baby. I’m sorry, I don’t want to crush you if something goes wrong,” he looked as though he wanted the bed to eat him whole.
And why, you don’t know. But his admission gave you the confidence you didn’t expect. “Is this you suggesting I ride you?” you gave a small giggle as he chewed his lip.
“Lil’ bit, yeah. I know that sounds so goddamn selfish – ”
“Giving me the power over you makes you selfish?”
“Well, it takes away a fair amount of effort,” he reasoned. “And you know, I wanna show you what I can do…” his voice trailed off, timidly.
And suddenly you understood. This wasn’t just about a missing limb – this was the pain and terror from all those years ago. The raw, never-ending trauma of Bucky’s initial testing, falling from the train in the Alps. Losing his arm seemed so minute in all of it. Years of physical and mental abuse, and psychological torment at the hands of HYDRA, of the Soviets, whoever was the highest bidder for The Winter Soldier.
This was touch, connection, feeling wanted and adored – oh, how needed to Bucky understand how much you wanted to be the person to help him.
You tutted him and inhaled, gently cupping his cheek, choosing compassion. “Relax, handsome, lay back and enjoy,” you instructed as he nodded slightly and wrapped his scorching hand around your ribs. It was such a simple act, but it turned you on so much. It felt possessive, wanted. “I want to make you feel so fucking good – will you let me?”
You don’t know why you asked, but you knew you needed to hear him tell you he wanted this too. “Yes,” he nodded shyly. “Hell yes.”
“Okay,” you leaned down to kiss him, reached between your bodies and in your warm hands, adjusted your body on his. Viewing Bucky as he felt you sheath your body around his was as good as it could ever get – his plumb lips drawn into his gleaming white teeth, his bright blue eyes hidden behind his long lashes. Giving him some time to adjust, just like you were to his size encouraged you as he lightly raised his hips in hopes for you to move. “You good?” you asked again.
“Better than, amazing,” he told you, gripping your hip and your body slowly started to move above him. “Jesus Christ,” he uttered, raising his eyes to look at you.
Taking his hand and linking your fingers as you relaxed and stopped trying to ensure his good time (it appeared ensured) and sinking into feeling so good yourself, you moved your hips more, craving Bucky deeper, hoping to find that elusive little spot to make you explode.
“Touch yourself?” he pleaded quietly. “Please, sugar?”
Appeasing him happily, he watched your free hand creep down your body and open yourself up to where your bodies met, your fingers putting on a show as you toyed with yourself just for his dark, lust-filled eyes. Your body tightened under the pressure and Bucky’s pleasured grunts and curses was certainly on the rise. His hand relinquished yours as he clutched onto your ass, forcing you rougher into him, his tempo speeding up and urging you to do the same from the friction his body caused yours.
“God, you feel so good. So wet, so warm,” he muttered, his breathing deepening as his hips haphazardly fired into you. “Are you close?” he asked desperately. You were, you so fucking were, you realised, his simple question bringing you even closer. You nodded as you pressed harder against your clit, desperate for your own release and of course, his.
He needs this, you reminded yourself. You needed this. “Fuck, yes,” you replied as he used his abs to sit up, suddenly so much deeper into you as you looked at each other face to face, chest to chest and Bucky kissed you. He kissed you with those beautiful lips and a tongue that knew exactly how you wanted to be kissed as he moaned into your mouth. He wrapped his arm around your waist and took a nipple into your mouth as you started to come – that was the move, the special way to push you over the edge. Realising this, Bucky grinned and looked at you, using those pearly whites to chew lightly and you were coming. Coming so hard that you felt like you might have seen stars as he let out a litany of curses and came hard too.
“Oh, sweet Jesus,” Bucky breathed, chest heaving as he rolled onto his back, taking your body down with him, keeping you wrapped in his embrace and softening inside you. Bucky Barnes liked to cuddle, you realised.
“Holy shit,” you managed to say as you tried to settle your breathing. “That was fantastic.”
“Really?” he asked bashfully. He looked you in the eye and begged you weren’t lying to him. You nodded and tenderly kissed him. “Good,” he gave a small, shy smile and suddenly appeared so boyish. “Thank you.”
“You don’t have the thank me,” you told him. “Trust me, I’m just glad you stayed.”
“Fuck, me too,” he laughed. “Me too.”
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Hearing your phone beep, you shot up through the heaviness across your chest and halted you. Bucky’s body subdued you – the body heat he exhumed was hot and stifling. He groaned, pulling you back down to him.
“They’ll call back,” he muttered. “Sleep.”
“It’s the team,” you whispered back. He breathed heavily, reaching out for the phone for you reluctantly and putting it in your hands. Relief washed through you. The team, including Wanda and Vis, were returning to Wakanda imminently. “Did you sleep okay?”
Yawning, Bucky slightly freed you from his grasp. “You weren’t wrong about sleeping comfortably – I mean, I don’t deserve to, but it was the most relaxing sleep I’ve had in years.”
“I’m glad to hear it, Bucky. Truly.”
He soothingly kissed your naked shoulder. “Thank you for last night.”
“I just hope you enjoyed yourself.”
“So much,” he breathed against your skin, rolling you to your back and lightly pining your body under his. You loved the feel of his weight on your body. You would come to crave it. Addicted and all in less than 12 hours. You’d fallen so hard, so fast. “Did you?”
“Yes,” you couldn’t lie. Bucky’s body was made for a multitude of sins and loving on a woman? The top. He kissed each eyelid that fluttered closed under his touch, the tip of your nose, his mouth travelling through your throat to your décolletage. “Behave…” you teased, your fingers lacing into his long, dark, loose waves.
He laughed into your skin. “Okay,” he nudged your knees apart, his hips meeting yours. He felt as if he was flying – he’d never imagined the confidence he felt, that you’d given to him. Or how you could have destroyed it by rejecting him. The power you had over him was stifling. That was a hellova lot scarier than what was to eventually come.
“What did I say?”
“You told me to behave.”
“And what did you do?”
“The exact opposite,” he admitted. “I just can’t seem to keep my mitts offa you. You’ve opened the floodgates, sugar. I don’t know if I’ll ever be the same again.”
Your phone beeping incessantly now, you found yourself in a world where only you and Bucky ceased to exist. The rest of the world could wait another hour.
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thesunisatangerine · 28 days
Text
playing for keeps – chapter three
alexia putellas x barçakeeper!childhoodfriend!reader
warnings: coarse language, light angst
(a/n in the tags) [chapters: one, two, three]
word count: 8.8k
[1]
Just before you turned thirteen your body, finally, began to change. 
While Alexia’d gone ahead of you a year prior—with her limbs now lanky and sinewy, and her muscles stretched close to the newly grown bones—you were left behind. She’d grown taller, yes; not by much but the two-inch difference (two and a half, as Alexia was always inclined to remind you) felt like a foot to you. So the change was welcome when it finally started, and more importantly, it happened to coincide with something that completely altered the trajectory of your life.
During the spring after your birthday, your father got a promotion at work. To celebrate this milestone, he took you and your mother for a trip around Europe. And as a gift for your hard work and for getting into La Masia with Alexia just a few months before, your parents surprised you with tickets to at least one game in the country, or area, you were visiting. 
In Gelsenkirchen, Germany, you found your destiny. 
Or at least that was how you liked to look at it. 
Before seeing the match between Schalke 04 against Stuttgart, the idea of keeping never entered your mind; you’d played forward your whole life, and you thought that would be the position you’d play in professionally. But as you saw Manuel Neuer controlling the outcome of the game with his hands, a spark ignited within you—this overwhelming surge—and right there and then, you were enlightened to the art of keeping. That spark returned home with you and, playing into the hands of fate, your journey to keeping began.
[2]
The crescendo of the cicadas’ song was this close to lulling you to sleep. It didn’t help that Alexia’d curled herself up beside you in your bed, her head on your lap while her math notebook laid forgotten at the foot of the bed, and her eyes already closed. It was a rare occurrence for the both of you and even more so for Alexia to ‘slack off’—if you were to put it as Alexia had—but this afternoon was a particularly hot one. Summer had practically bled into spring, and even someone like Alexia clearly wasn’t immune to its soporific effect. 
The numbers from the homework you were working on began to blur when you heard a knock downstairs. Out of curiosity or just surprise, you snapped awake. And so did Alexia, apparently.
“You expecting someone?” Alexia yawned, stretching out her long limbs before settling over to her other side. The movement made a lock of hair fall to her cheek which you brushed away with the back of your finger.
“No, it’s probably Mamá’s.” You hummed in answer, relaxing down on your pillow to finally chase that nap that continued to tempt you.
But then came your mother’s voice, “Guille! Hello, my boy! How are you?”
Alexia let out a startled yelp when you jumped out of the bed, now fully awake, tripping on the rug as you rushed into the closet. 
“What the hell? What are you doing?!” Alexia hissed with annoyance but you were too busy trying to get changed to address it. 
You snatched the closest pair of shorts and jersey shirt, and began to shed the ones you had on before you slipped the fresh ones on in quick succession. 
As you did, you began to explain, “I completely forgot! I was supposed to meet up with Guille today!”
When your head popped out of your shirt, you found a deep crease between Alexia’s brows. She was sitting in the middle of your bed, cross-legged, looking very much like a disgruntled cat woken from a nap with the way her hair stuck out in odd places. 
She looked adorable. 
You bit your tongue before you could say it.
Crossing her arms, Alexia retorted, “Why? It’s Saturday.” 
The tone she used made it seem that today being a Saturday was a valid enough reason for you to not go. 
“And it is because it’s Saturday—and no training, Alexia—that I can go with him.” 
At that, her frown only seemed to deepen. You had half a mind to tease her but you knew that’d probably just piss her off even more, although if you were being honest, you didn’t understand just why this seemed to bother Alexia so much.  So instead of teasing, you tried a placating tone, “You could come with if you want?”
Alexia opened her mouth, “I—”
Your mother’s shout cut through the air. 
“Honey? Guille is here for you!” 
You sent Alexia one last apologetic glance. 
“I’m really sorry! Please stay for dinner! I’ll be quick!” 
And with a quick hug goodbye, you rushed out of your room and practically flew down the stairs. At the bottom, you found Guille leaning against the bannister, hands in his short pockets, with a small rucksack on his back who, upon seeing you, gave you a bright smile.
“Hey! You look—” He began but then suddenly, his eyes darkened and the quirk of his lips turned upside down, his tone flattening, “Oh. You’re here.”
In the same second you noticed Alexia beside you, Alexia’d slung an arm over your shoulders.
“Lovely to see you as always, Guille. And I could say the same about you.” Alexia deadpanned, flashing Guille a smile full of teeth, her eyes void of any warmth as she stared at him down her nose. Then she turned to you, her face lighting up as she asked with a little too much excitement, “So, are we going or not?”
“Wait, she’s coming with us?” Guille blurted out, but before you could even answer, Alexia left your side and ran down the steps. 
“Of course, Guille! Come on, keep up!” Alexia exclaimed on her way out of the door, tapping Guille’s stomach as she did—not without force apparently with the way Guille expelled air out harshly. 
When you got to him, you placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. 
“Are you okay?”
He let out a strained, “Yes.”
You gave Guille an apologetic look, grabbing your ball bag. 
“I’m really sorry for the last minute change. I’ll make it up to you.”
Still clutching his stomach, he said, “Don’t worry about it.”
The three of you got to the field near your place—which you were glad to find empty—without any more incidents. You were faced with another problem as it was only after you’d begun warming up that you realized that in your haste to leave, you forgot to bring water with you. When you told Alexia, she offered to go to the nearest corner store to buy some.
You stretched as you waited for Alexia’s return when Guille suddenly said behind you.
“Here.”
Turning, you found him holding a paper parcel bag. You considered his outstretched hand with curiosity before you met his eyes, taking the bag from him slowly. “What’s this?”
“Just a little something to get you started,” he answered, scratching the back of his head. “You said you wanted to keep, so I thought you’d need them.”
Peering into the bag, you gasped at what you found inside. 
A new pair of keeper gloves.
“Guille, you didn’t have to!”
He shrugged, smiling, “Yeah, but I wanted to anyway.”
“Thank you! Come here, you big baby!” You laughed, throwing your arms around him. Unlike Alexia, Guille was only taller than you by mere centimeters so it was relatively easy to ruffle his hair as you pulled away. 
“Mess up my hair again and I won’t teach you anything,” He threatened with a faux glare as he swept his fingers through his curling locks in an attempt to tame them. 
You rolled your eyes, grinning at him. “Okay, Antonio Banderas. So, what are the basics?”
He imitated you, rolling his eyes before he shook his head slightly, his smile never leaving his lips. Then he pointed to a spot by the goal line. “Put your gloves on and stand right there.”
You did, noting the way your new gloves fit perfectly over your hands and fingers. It felt different—stuffy—and you could already feel your palms beginning to sweat from the trapped heat. When you stood where Guille pointed, he walked around you all the while he instructed you to correct your posture: he told you keep your feet shoulder-width apart, to bend your legs slightly so that your chest was just past your knees, and to hold your palms facing out. 
“The main thing to worry about starting out is your stance. It will take time to get the balance right but once you get it down, you’re set.”
“Is this alright?” 
Guille took a step back and he gripped his chin as he hummed. After a moment of scrutiny, he nudged you back suddenly. It wasn’t quite forceful but it made you tumble down on your rear all the same. 
You smiled at him sheepishly, getting up. “I guess that’s a no?”
“Yep. It looks like you keep your weight on your heels too much.” He crouched down at your feet, drawing a square over the front half of your foot. “Keep your weight spread out around here and you should—”
Guille scrambled back suddenly, yelping as a football went flying past where he was just a second ago and into the net. Turning to the direction where the ball came from with your mouth agape, you found Alexia there with water bottles clasped to her chest, an eyebrow raised, while one corner of her mouth was set in a bemused droop, another ball rolling beneath her left foot.
“What the hell was that for, asshole?!” Guille shouted as he stormed his way over to Alexia. He was in front of her now, looking up at her with flame in his eyes but Alexia remained unfazed. She put the water bottles down before she settled her hands on her hips, cocking her head slightly to the side. 
“I’m sorry, Guille. I didn’t see you.” Alexia said flatly, “And aren’t you supposed to be playing keeper?”
“Really. You didn’t see me? Besides—”
“Ale, I asked Guille to teach me.” You huffed, running in between them and separating them with your arms before things got out of hand—again. 
This wasn’t the first time this… row between them happened. In fact, you noticed it’s been occurring more frequently lately. For all their similarities—the main one being their short tempers—the two never got on well together for reasons you never really understood and the only thread that tied them together was you. 
They weren’t always like this though; they were nice with each other the first time they’d met. Guille transferred to your school not long after you’d joined Sabadell, and if you and Alexia were inseparable there, it was always you and Guille at school. And when an opportunity arose for your two favorite persons to meet, you took it. It went well; they were friendly with each other. You only noticed things had changed after you and Guille’s school team started playing against Alexia’s so you were never sure when this all started, and by that point, the friction between them was too great to smoothen out which both saddened and disappointed you.
And it wasn’t like you never tried to get to the bottom of it. You’d asked them what happened, they both gave similar answers. By that, you meant completely avoiding answering. 
Guille’d assured you, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, we’re friends? Don’t worry.” 
While Alexia’d said with a confused frown, “What do you mean? Nothing happened.” 
And when you pestered her, asked her if the reason was because she liked Guille as a joke, she looked at you without reply, and when next practice came, she made a nuisance of herself enough to let you know the answer to your question and more. 
And here you were again, with them acting like this–always at each other’s throats. 
At your answer, Alexia looked at you, confused. “Why would you ask him to teach you how to keep?”
Your gaze lanced away as you bit your lip.
Maybe you should’ve told her after all… 
Mustering up the courage to meet her eye again, you replied, low and serious. “I want to start playing keeper, Alexia.” 
Alexia blinked, and then she crossed her arms before she eyed Guille who was scowling at her in return. She looked at you again. 
“Have you told Alejandro about this?”
“Yes.” 
“Oh.” A pause. “What did he say?”
“I’ll still start as a forward. But he said he’ll put in some extra technical sessions for me starting next week which was why I asked Guille to help me get started. Alejandro said if I get good enough, he’ll see if I can start as keeper for the team.”
An uncomfortable silence settled over you three. 
You caught Guille’s eyes darting from you to Alexia and back again from the corner of your eyes but you remained focused on Alexia’s face. At a glance, Alexia might seem calm—impassive with the way all of her features remained flat. But her eyelids drooped just so they hid more than half of her pupils, how her lower lip was slightly concealed beneath the upper one; she was pissed and even worse, she was hurt. And knowing that you’d hurt her was enough to compel you to reach out and touch her arm, apologetic.
Alexia regarded you for a moment longer. Another word of apology was on the tip of your tongue when she finally sighed, the corner of her lips tilting up to a half-smile as she spoke softly. “Okay. How can I help?”
You couldn’t help yourself. You threw your arms around her and it felt like a weight was lifted from your chest upon hearing the chuckle she let out.
The next couple of hours were spent with the three of you working together: Guille by the goal who continuously gave you notes and instructions, while Alexia—upon Guille’s signal—would send some shots to the net so you could try and stop them. The first… fifty or so shots went right past you—going easy was never exactly Alexia’s strong suit—but the more you focused on getting the timing right and reading the language of Alexia’s body to anticipate the direction of the ball, you ended the session with a few decent saves. 
It was a rough start but you were satisfied with it.
You’d left to use the restroom but upon coming back, the two of them were bickering once more.
Oh, no. What was it now?
You heard more of their words the closer you got, but you didn’t have to move too close with the way they were shouting.
“Come on, dude! Please, don’t tell me you’re still pissed off about that? It was a fair match!”
“How was that fair, Alexia? The two of you playing together is never fair! You’re both in La Masia for crying out loud! And even more importantly, she was supposed to be on my team! That was the original plan, but you went ahead and took her away!”
“What made you think I took her away?” Alexia crossed her arms, scoffing. “Let’s face it. She likes to play with me more than you.”
“You don’t know that!”
That was the moment Alexia spotted you and before you could even get a word in, she said, “Why don’t we just ask her who she’d rather play with?”
Two sets of intense eyes looked your way and without meaning to, you gulped, taking a step back.
“So? Who would you rather play with: me or her?” Guille asked, eyes wide and pleading. 
Suddenly feeling like you were backed into a corner, you stammered in your panic, “Umm, I—”
[3]
Alexia stayed over for dinner that night. That was normal; what was unusual was she left you alone to do the dishes. You had a feeling where she might be, especially since she’d been mostly quiet throughout the whole evening.
After you put away the last dish in the cupboard, and when your arms were finally free from suds, you took a peek into the living room. She wasn’t there—a confirmation of her whereabouts.
Putting on your flip flops, you headed out of the back door. 
The light from the living room casted a faint glow that dissipated the darkness around the garden when you opened the door that led out to it, aiding you just enough to see Alexia on the swing, sitting still with her back hunched forward. Once you were just a few paces behind her, you saw the contours of her headset, but even with them on, there was no way she didn’t know you were there—the fact that your shadow stretched to reach her before you did was a dead give away. Yet still, she made no move to acknowledge your presence.
Okay. That was fair.
“Ale,” you said softly. 
She gave you a glance before she went back to looking down at her clasped hands. 
“Alexia, come on.” 
Still no response. You fiddled with your thumbs as the moment dragged on. 
You sighed, sitting down on your heels next to her.
“I should’ve told you about the keeper thing,” you muttered. “I wanted to get a feel for it first, to get a bit better at it before I told you. But I didn’t consider how that would make you feel… and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for making you feel that I didn’t want or need you by my side, Alexia. I wanted you to think I was good enough for this.” 
Finally, Alexia turned to you, taking her headset off, the movement barely above a whisper. And softly, she spoke, “What made you think that I’ll think you’re not good enough for anything?”
“I don’t know.” You admitted, pulling at the grass in front of you. Your mother would probably see the hole you’d made on the lawn and berate you for it in the morning but you needed something to keep your hands busy. “I just wanted to go through this without too many expectations. And it’s not like I don’t want to keep our dynamic going. I love playing forward with you, Alexia, but I think keeping is my calling, just like midfield is to you.”
“You don’t have to apologize. I completely understand. You didn’t want any added pressure. I’m not going to hold that against you.” 
“Thank you,” you smiled at her. Then, “So, tell me why are you sulking?”
“I’m not sulking!” Alexia huffed with indignation. Then she looked away again, working her lower lip between her teeth.
You put a hand on her knee. “Alexia, what is it?”
“I…” Alexia sighed, brushing the bridge of her nose with her thumb. You gave her another moment. She heaved another breath before she began.
“That thing you said… Did you really mean it when you said you’d rather play with him than me?”
Oh. So that was what this was about.
“Of course not. We both know it’s always going to be you, Alexia.”
“Then why did you tell him that?”
“I feel like if I didn’t, I’d lose him as a friend.”
“And you’re not worried about losing me?” Alexia cried out, her tone inflected while her eyes reflected her hurt.
You blinked at her. 
There were moments—just like now—where you’d feel a sudden urge to shake Alexia. For all her sharpness and unmatched awareness, she sometimes failed to see even the most obvious of things. Couldn’t she see that you loved her and that you’d follow her to the edge of the earth if she asked you to?
At the absurdity of her question, you really couldn’t help but laugh. You stood up and shuffled behind her before you threw your arms around Alexia’s neck, draping yourself over her broad back, which made the swing move forward. The dampness of her hair felt cool against your cheek, the scent of your shampoo that clung to them filled your senses as you chuckled into her ear. 
“Why are you laughing? I’m serious!”
“Because, Alexia, do you hear yourself? I love you, you idiot!” You giggled again. “I know our friendship isn’t that shallow that I’d lose you over this. Or am I wrong?”
Alexia turned her head and you saw a hint of a smile on her lips. “No, I suppose not.”
A pleasant silence blanketed you both. And then Alexia hummed.
“But if there was something that could break us, what do you think it would be?”
You stopped to ponder, twirling a lock of Alexia’s hair with your finger, noting her hair was nearly dry now. When your mind drew blank, you replied nonchalantly, “Honestly, I have no idea.”
“Good.” Alexia leaned away so she could give you a lopsided smile—an earnest one. “Because me neither.”
[4]
“—you okay?”
You blinked and turned to Alexia. “Hmm?”
She glanced at you for a moment before she turned back to what she was doing, sleeves rolled up as she scrubbed a plate in the soapy water in the sink.
“I said, are you okay? Is there something wrong? You’ve been out of it since practice.” When a moment of silence lapsed, Alexia added, “And don’t think I didn’t notice you on your swing the past few days, too, because I did.”
You looked out the window and watched how the rain sluiced down the glass pane. In the darkness behind the window, you saw glimpses of soaked, curly locks and heard the hasty confession all over again.
You sighed, blinking the memory away.
“Guille asked me out.”
The sound of glass shattering and metal clanging made you jump, and you watched as a casserole pot twirled like a top on the hard, kitchen floor, while fragments of a broken plate skittered out to different directions. 
“Oh, shit!” Alexia cursed, looking down at the mess, while a voice called out from the living room. 
“Alexia, is everything alright in there?'' Came Eli’s voice. A few seconds later, Jaume’s head popped into the kitchen. He glanced at you then his eyes settled on Alexia who was crouched down, looking up guiltily at her father.
“Are you okay, girls?”
“Yes, Papá. I just… dropped some stuff.” Alexia said. You crouched down, too, about to pick up a fragment when Jaume spoke.
“Don’t pick that up, love, you might cut yourself. I’ll do it.” 
Jaume shooed the two of you to a corner he deemed safe and the both of you watched as he picked up the pieces, throwing them in the bin by the back door. Afterwards, he gave Alexia a kiss on her temple, and you a hug and a ruffle to your hair, as he retired for the evening, leaving the two of you again in your own company. Alexia went back to the sink to finish up whatever was left, and you returned to your place on the counter beside her. 
The silence that intruded was cut short by Alexia when she cleared her throat, “So… what did you say?” 
“I haven’t said anything, yet,” you sighed again, looking back out the window, the questions coming back full force. In the eight years you’d known Guille, how long had he harbored those feelings for you? When did it happen? What did you do to make him feel that way?
“Do you like him?” Alexia’s question brought you back to the present.
“I don’t know.”
“Do you want him?”
“Isn’t that the same thing?” You laughed slightly, glancing back at Alexia who shrugged her shoulders in answer.
“No, I don’t think so. Desire is a drive, like it makes you want to act. Attraction is just… I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s a weaker feeling. And they complement each other but they’re not the same.”
“And you know this how exactly?” You asked her teasingly, a brow raised.
Alexia averted her eyes, and shrugged your question off with a laugh.
In the moment of silence that followed, you traced Alexia’s profile, and your gaze ended at the elegant curve of the bow of her lips. She looked so pretty casted in the candescent glow of the kitchen light that it made your chest ache just by looking at her. You dropped your eyes to your feet as your mind ran faster than before this entire conversation happened.
Clutching your arms tightly across your chest, you muttered, “I don’t know what I want.” 
[5]
Maybe hoping it would all turn out fine was a bit naive because naturally, Guille didn’t take your rejection well. It was your fault really for expecting otherwise but nevertheless, the inevitable discomfort of disappointment settled like lead in your gut. 
The thing was, you were ready to give Guille the space he needed to accept your boundaries—friends, or nothing at all—and to heal. But accusing Alexia of making you turn against him? Now, that was something you couldn’t let pass. 
He knew he’d crossed a line, too, with the way he kept avoiding you. At first, the silence didn’t bother you; he was hurt, after all. But when the apology never came, you understood that you’d be going through your last year of high school without your closest friend there by your side.
A fortnight passed without any word from him so it surprised you when he showed up at the local meetup that the three of you used to go to. He refused to meet your eyes but he had no problem leveling with the glares Alexia kept giving him. And when you ended up in Alexia’s team, the only sign of his distaste about it was the way his lips flattened to a line. He looked like he was about to say something, but with a slight shake of his head, he turned around and made his way to his teammates.
With one last look at Guille’s retreating back, you tuned back in your team’s conversation.
“—doesn’t need to play keeper. We need her more in the offensive.” Alexia said evenly but when you met her eyes, there was a clear question in them. 
You gave her a slight nod to let her know you were okay. 
She nodded back.
“How will that work? She’s the better keeper.” And then Marco added, “No offense, Julia.” 
Julia only shrugged carelessly, a gesture of nonchalance.
“Julia is perfectly fine and besides, with you, Benji, and Carmen, our backline is already strong. The four of you together lessens our chance of conceding.” Alexia paused, looking over her shoulder to the other team before she faced you all again, continuing, “Our priority is the offensive. What good is a strong backline if we can’t counterattack? That’s why I’m suggesting she play as forward in the meantime, while Martina and I will play as interiors. Does that make sense?”
A collective nodding occurred.
“So just to clarify, we’re playing three–two–one?” Benji asked.
Alexia hummed, nodding her head. “Mostly. If we find the space and some opportunities, we can easily do three–one–two.”
“No pressure on us defenders, right?” Carmen said with a laugh, if not with a hint of nerve. 
Everyone laughed but at the end of it, Alexia placed a hand on Carmen’s shoulder. “No pressure because you guys, as I said, are very strong. You got this.”
Carmen smiled at Alexia at that, nodding before she finally moved to her spot. As you and Alexia moved towards the middle of the pitch, Guille was introduced to your line of sight, and a weight pressed in your gut. Disappointment? Perhaps. Or maybe you just actually missed talking and hanging out with him.
Alexia’s teasing tone pulled away your attention from Guille.  “I hope you haven’t forgotten how to play forward from all the keeping you’ve been doing.”
“Four years of keeping against the five years of playing forward? You need to brush up on your math ‘cause I think you’ve forgotten how to count.” You said dryly, giving her a look so dirty that had her throwing her head back in laughter.
Alexia leveled you with an unimpressed look but her tone remained playful. “You are such a bitch sometimes. You know that, right?”
“Thank you. I do try, you know. It’s my only defense against your smart-mouth.”
“Stop denying you don’t like my teasing.” Alexia waggled her brows as she smirked. The way she looked just then—with both hands on her hips, the ball beneath her left boot—your throat dried, heart racing; a sensation that’d familiarized itself to you during its recurrent visits over the past few weeks. Your mind blanked out, clear as the white of Alexia’s shirt, and when no words came to you to retort back, you shook your head and just laughed. By the time the game started—or maybe it was because it started—the feeling finally went away, replaced by the adrenaline that shot through your veins the moment Alexia kicked the ball to you.
It proved to be a tight game. The main strategy of the opposition seemed to be to mark and shut you and Alexia down whenever the ball so much turned your way. Alexia was right to trust your backline: any counterattack from the other team was dealt with immediately, and Julia only needed to save a handful of shots that passed through your defense, which she handled well.
At last, your team finally made a breakthrough.
Alexia cut a diagonal through the box, taking two of the defenders as she did, freeing up the space just behind her. You knew what she was doing so you faked a sidestep, turning quickly to lose your marker, before you sprinted in towards the middle of the box. And as you anticipated, Alexia sent the ball back to you with a flick of her heel. Now, if you could just—
The ground tilted, and there was a moment where the whole world suspended. It lasted for less than a breath before everything—the sensations and sounds—came rushing back in.
You slammed to the ground. 
Air was squeezed out of your lungs from the impact, while your skull and teeth rattled within the confines of your skin; the taste of green, earth, and copper spread on your tongue. Muffled shouts and grunts filtered past the ringing in your ear but when you cupped a hand over your tender ribs, your resulting groan was all you could hear.
When you finally came to, Alexia’s face was over you, the doubled image of her finally merging into one. Her wide, hazel eyes looked on you with worry and you felt the warmth of her fingers as they grazed over your face: from your temples down to your cheeks which she took in a gentle cradle.
“Alexia?” You let out another groan as you turned on your back while Alexia helped you.
“Tell me where it hurts.”
There was a tension that constricted around the front part of your head, but you could feel the blood pulsing most on the side that collided with the ground. “My head… it hurts.”
“Okay, okay. Just lay down for now, I’ll get you…”
You seemed to have passed out after that because one moment you were lying on the fields, and the next you were beside Alexia on her living room couch. You had a vague recollection of being carried on Alexia’s back, but the feel of the strong plane of her shoulder against your cheek remained there, warm and comforting. 
And only then, after Eli gave you ice for your head, did you see the bruise that bloomed deep in the skin of Alexia’s jaw, just below her left cheek, and the scuffed knuckles of her right hand which were splotched with deep reds and purples.
You took her hand onto your lap, gently running over the ice for your head over her knuckles, while you looked at Eli sitting on the opposite couch with Jaume beside her. Eli’s face burnt redder than you’d ever seen before, while Jaume held onto her hand, circling his thumb over the top of it in an attempt to calm her down.
Alexia remained quiet the whole time, eyes casted down as she took her mother’s reprimanding words. There was the unmistakable shine of shame in them, her guilt, but also an unwavering quality that stood for what she did. At the end of it, Eli and Jaume hugged the both of you before letting you retreat into Alexia’s room as you waited for your parents to arrive.
Instead of getting on her bed with you, Alexia plopped down on the floor just by the foot of the bed, her back against the wooden bedframe. You regarded the back of her head, her neck curved downwards, and you suddenly felt the need to be close to her so you shuffled off her sheets, and got down beside her. 
“Thank you, but your mother was right, you know? You shouldn’t have done it, Alexia.” You mumbled, unfurling her fingers to rest on your knee so you could access more of her knuckles that way. Gently, you placed ice over it, but she still hissed in pain. “You shouldn’t have punched him.”
“Why not? He deserved it.” Alexia said evenly as she stared at the far corner of the room. “And before you start defending him, you didn’t see what I saw—what the rest of us saw. He didn’t even touch the ball—it was all feet. He meant to trip you up.” 
Warmth bloomed in your chest at her words—at how her action showed just how much you meant to her—but the discomfort in your gut marred the surge of your affection for her. 
You took a deep breath, sighed it out, and it tasted like disappointment. 
“Alexia, I appreciate the gesture, I do. But you can’t just hurt people just because they did something to me.” 
Alexia puffed her chest and proclaimed, “I can.”
“Stop that nonsense, Alexia. I mean it.” Firmer now, you said, and there was a hint of desperation in the intonation of your words. There was an urgent need to make Alexia understand the gravity of what she did, what future implications it held if what Eli and you told her didn’t sink in now. “Actions like this can jeopardize you, Alexia, and all the things you worked hard for. Do you understand that? What will Alejandro say when he sees you all bruised up next practice? And if I get tackled dirty during a game and I get hurt, would you risk a red card, or suspension, for behaving like this?”
Alexia became silent, the muscle in her jaw working, and when she turned to you with her mouth open and you spotted a defiant crease in her brows, you were quick to stop her.
“If the answer to that question isn’t no, Ale, I don’t want to hear it.” The sound of teeth clattering filled the air. She casted her gaze aside again, her cheeks growing a shade deeper. “Look at me, Alexia.”
When she kept her eyes glued to the floor, you dropped the ice pack to take her face in your hands. She flinched from the coldness of your fingers but as you looked into her eyes, rimmed with redness and framed by drooping eyelids, you found exhaustion and the shine of apology. You brushed away a matted lock of hair from the tail end of her brow.
“You have a good heart, Alexia, but you have to promise me. Please don’t do something like this again. Ever.” 
Alexia looked into your eyes, deeply as if in contemplation, and then she closed them. A moment later, she sighed, sagging into your touch as if a weight had left her shoulders, before she opened them again. 
“I promise.” 
This time, you believed her.
Smiling softly at her, you whispered, while you placed a light kiss on her cheek. “Thank you.”
Settling into the moment, you rested your head against Alexia’s shoulder, her bruised hand in yours. In the brief silence before your father arrived to pick you up, Alexia spoke in an earnest tone that made your stomach flutter.
“I know you can handle yourself, but that won’t stop me from having your back.”
At her words, your heart felt like it would burst your chest open. And you should’ve known that this was where you’d end up—with her, it seemed inevitable anyway—because the years of you’d known Alexia flashed quickly before your eyes, and the memory stopped to this person beside you, haloed golden by the warm glow of her bedside lamp, and you were hit with a realization that took what little breath you had away.
You liked Alexia.
And, even more importantly, you want her.
[6]
When you got on the field in a Barça jersey for the first time after your return, you didn’t expect to be welcomed like you did. Jona subbed you on after the first half and as you left the tunnel, you heard the crowd chanting your name. The cheers made you feel excited, accepted and seen, but you’d be lying if you said that it didn’t pressure you at all.
It was originally intended for you to come on during the last twenty minutes, but seeing as Caro, Patri, and Alexia gave the team a comfortable enough lead, Jona decided to sub you on ahead of schedule. You didn’t see much action on your end though, something that you didn’t mind at all—a quiet defensive-third was the best kind. The midfielders kept the midline high to sustain pressure in the offensive-third, while the defenders maintained such a tight backline that any loose through-balls sent to the opposing runners were called offside. Of course, there were a handful of times when you needed to get out of your box to ping the ball back into the offensive, but other than that, it was quiet. When the match ended, you were satisfied that Barça had another clean sheet and four goals to add to the season tally.
For the celebration, you moved with your teammates around Estadi Johan Cruyff, and during the procession, you spied your parents, Eli, and Alba who was talking to a raven-haired woman you’d never seen before, clapping and cheering. Warmth filled you upon seeing your family in the stands again—such a scene was a luxury when you were in the States because plane tickets weren’t exactly cheap—and when you felt the familiar weight of Alexia’s arm slung over your shoulders, the fabric of her captain armband against the skin of your neck, it felt like a perfect homecoming.
Well, almost.
After you’d showered and changed to your casuals, most of the crowd had gone while some lounged about, one of which was the raven-haired woman Alba was talking to. When Alexia took her hand, you knew instantly, and your heart—damn your heart—dropped.
“This is Diana,” Alexia said after the both of them made their way to you. And if it wasn’t their intertwined hands that revealed what they were to each other, their gaze—saccharine when they met—made it all the more clear the nature of their relationship long before Alexia said the words, “my girlfriend.”
Diana beamed up at Alexia, her cheeks deepening in color before she regarded you again, sticking her hand out towards you to shake. Preceding the intention, you took her hand and when you did, Diana placed her other hand over yours, clasping your hand between her warm palms.
“It’s so nice to finally meet you. Alexia’s talked so much about you.” 
She did? Your eyes flitted to Alexia but when she shied away from that, you focused back on Diana’s face. She was stunning: with her high cheekbones carved to elegance, her brows following the perfect line of her temple, her full lips painted with a terracotta shade made deeper by the bronze of her skin, while her loose, straight, raven hair framed her face in such a way that accentuated the sharpness of her jaws. Her eyes were dark but still light enough to see the outline of her pupils, and they had an amiable shape that reflected her warm nature. And for some reason, her light brown eyes looked really familiar—
“Ah! My favorite cousin made it, after all! Although I’m not sure it was me you went to the game for!” Tori’s playful voice resonated in the near-barren corridor. Diana’s eyes flicked somewhere behind you—to Tori, you supposed.
“Don’t be like that, Tori, of course I came to see you, too!”
“Lies!”
Diana shook her head, laughing, as she took Tori in her arms. “Come here, you!”
In response, Tori said something in Portuguese that made Diana laugh. When they broke apart, Diana said, “Forget you? Never. Especially when I owe you one.”
“Owe her what?” Alexia asked with her brows creased with curiosity.
Diana took Alexia’s hand and squeezed it, looking up at Alexia with a gentle expression. “For giving us the chance to meet.”
“Damn right!” Tori exclaimed, putting both hands on her hips, as she grinned so wide that her dimple showed. Tori must’ve seen your confusion because she leaned in to whisper, “I brought Diana as my plus one for last year’s Ballon D’Or ceremony.”
You allowed your mouth to drop open before you smiled, letting out a small laugh that made your chest ache. “Ah, I see.”
“She kept complaining about going but now, aren’t you grateful I took you away from your precinct, Detective Beauregard?” Tori teased.
“She’s never going to let us live this down, will she?” Diana muttered dryly to Alexia but it was deliberately loud enough for all of you to hear. In response, Alexia threw her head back laughing. 
“You’re a detective? That’s amazing!” You said, impressed.
“Please, Tori’s exaggerating. I work in forensics. DNA analyst is the correct title.” Diana threw Tori a dirty look to which the other woman raised her shoulders in response. “It’s a whole different world compared to yours so—and please don’t let this get to your head, Tori—I am grateful I was able to step into it.”
Her eyes, still locked with Alexia’s, grew all the more soft.
“Get a room, you guys,” Tori said with a mock sound of disgust, and then she continued to mutter, “And to think that you’ve only been going out for four months… I don’t even want to think about how it will be like in another three months.”
At that, Alexia raised a brow and then, “Want to do some extra laps tomorrow?”
You and Tori knew Alexia was joking, but Tori being Tori, she spluttered, “That would be a hard no, Captain. I’ll just—Have a great night!” 
With that, she ran away, arms flailing behind her in an exaggerated manner as she hastily made her exit. The sight drew laughter from the three of you.
“We’re having dinner at Mamá’s, want to come over?” Alexia asked.
You shook your head, flashing a look at Diana, before you told Alexia,“Not tonight. I’m just about to head over to my parents’ as well.”
“Alright. But Alba’s going to ask about you, you know? I think she wants to hang  out with you.”
You laughed. “Tell her to text me. She’ll know what that means.”
“Is that something I should know about?” Alexia smirked.
Flatly, you retorted, “If it’s something that concerns you, I’d be telling you by now, right?” 
“You see what I have to deal with?” Alexia told Diana, almost whining.
Inching backwards, you said as dry as you could manage, “I’ll take that as my queue to leave, Alexia might start crying. She’s a crybaby, you know?” 
“Hey! I’m not—”
“No need to be embarrassed about it, Alexia. Be proud!”
Diana only laughed, saying, “Alright, kids, I think that’s enough for tonight.”
Nodding, you grinned at Alexia while she mouthed the word ‘bitch’ to you. In kind, you mouthed ‘smartmouth’ back. With a shake of her head and a smile, she gave you one last hug, and after a pleasant goodnight from Diana, the three of you parted ways.
You sent them a look over your shoulder, catching a glimpse of the watch around Alexia’s left wrist. It glinted as they walked together down the corridor, hand in hand, looking as in love as any new couple would. 
The sight made you smile, but it felt heavy, and as if the universe wanted to rub salt to the wound, you found Patri outside the locker room when you turned around with a look akin to pity in her eyes.
[7]
The next day, Guille stopped by at your place. He’d given you notice a few days prior but even still, the moment you saw him behind the door, you squealed like you were ten again from your excitement. After you hugged him tight—he made a choking noise when you did to tease you—you held him at arm’s length to see what changes the last few months had done to him.
He looked different. Gone were the long, dark curls; now sheared close to his scalp that left only about an inch of length, his hair retained their luscious shine, their color still as dark as night. 
His scar—the one just by the tail end of his left brow—that used to see little light from the obstruction of his hair, now stood apparent and without meaning to, the day he got it came back to you: the bruised knuckles, ice-cold fingers, and the warm blush of a lamplight.
 And your chest ached a little.
Leading the conversation to the living room, the two of you ended up ordering takeaways—mostly for Guille’s benefit because you weren’t about to subject him to your football diet—and as you ate, the two of you caught up.
Guille was close to finishing his dissertation—the biomechanics of concussion in sport and its neurocognitive implications—and he was both excited and fearful about what would come next. He then talked about his girlfriend, Iris, smittenly if you might add. She was actually with him in the city, but his mother insisted she steal Iris for the day for some quality bonding, and you laughed at the repertoire of stories he’d relayed in great detail about his mother’s teasing of their relationship.
“When am I going to meet Iris?” You asked with a teasing tone.
He rolled his eyes, “Well, since you’re actually staying in Barcelona this time, we can arrange that.”
A pause, and then, “Is Alexia staying here, too, or are you here by yourself?”
“No, it’s just me here.”
“Oh. I thought the two of you’d be rooming again like—” Probably seeing your change in demeanor, Guille cleared his throat as he ate his pasta a bit too eagerly. “Speaking of, how is she?”
The question was casual but you knew it was anything but.
“She’s doing good, if not a little stressed. Our first Champions League game is just around the corner after all and it’s against Chelsea, so.” You shrugged to complete your thought. You knew what he was asking but you’d rather not talk about that.
His eyes could burn a hole on the side of your head by the way he stared at you in the silence that followed. Then he sighed deeply.
“She still doesn’t know.”
Tension filled every inch of your body and you shrank tight as a coiled spring. You stood up as you felt a sudden urge to get away from him, taking the used plates on the coffee table as a pretense to move from the couch to the sink.
“What’s it to you if she doesn’t know, Guille?” You asked flatly, rolling up your sleeves after you turned the tap on.
“I just want you to be happy. Is that so wrong?”
“And who says I’m not?” Your tone was flat and when you glanced at him over your shoulder, Guille only gave you a pointed look.
Then he said softly, “She could make you happier and you know it.”
And there it was again, that look in his eyes that you just couldn’t stand. Gritting your teeth, you gripped the edge of the sink and your voice quaked when you spoke. “Please stop talking like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like,” you tried to find the words but when they evaded you, you huffed and threw your hands up in the air. “Why are you making it sound like I have a chance?”
“Because you do! You’re the one who’s not giving Alexia a chance by not telling her.”
“Give me one good reason why I should.”
“She loves you.”
A pause.
“That’s bullshit.” You shook your head, letting out a small, disbelieving laugh. As much as your heart wanted that to be true, you knew otherwise.
“It’s really fucking not.” Guille countered.
“If she did, she wouldn’t have said what she did.” 
“People say stupid shit when they’re drunk.”
“That can go the other way, too. Alcohol has a way of loosening what’s been bottled.”
“Oh, come on!” Guille scoffed. “You’ve known her since you were eight. You’ve been through thick and thin together! Do you really think she wanted you to leave?”
With the reminder, the memory sprung up on you and you could hear Alexia’s voice, grating and wrenching your heart raw again when you heard the words from her lips. You whirled around to face him, eyes burning.
“You weren’t there when she told me, Guille!” You breathed out sharply and then you continued, in a lower tone filled with resignation, you whispered as you buried your face in your palms. “You didn’t hear the way she said it. You didn’t—”
You choked on your words. 
After all this time, it was still too painful.
Darkness filled your vision but the tears escaped nonetheless, branding tracks down your cheeks. You heard the rustling of clothes followed by soft footsteps. Before you knew it, Guille’s arms wrapped around your shoulders and his familiar, comforting scent made you sink into the embrace.
“You’re right. I wasn’t there. But if you could forgive me for being an asshole and what I did to you, why can’t you do the same with her?”
You didn’t say anything after that, only clutched at his shirt a little tighter.
Guille kept quiet, too.
The both of you knew just the reason why.
[8]
“Did you see the news?” Jona asked as he kept the door open for you to an empty meeting room, closing it as soon as you’d gone in. 
Sitting down on one of the cushioned chairs, you said, “I did.”
You saw it this morning and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t faze you. 
Jona nodded, taking the chair across the table from you. He put his clasped hands on the wooden surface and the way he tapped an erratic rhythm with his thumbs didn’t help your nerves.
“Lyon paid a hefty transfer fee for her and that makes me worried. I don’t know what Bompastor is planning to do with her but her transfer to the European league will be a concern for the club.” With a pensive crease appearing between his brows, he continued. “You probably know why I asked you to come in.”
“You want me to tell you what I know about her.”
He nodded, leaning forward as if to emphasize his point. “She’s a lethal forward and you’re the only one in the club who’s ever played with her. In fact, you two seemed very close during your time in Angel City.”
You crossed your arms, leaning back into your chair, frowning slightly. “I don’t know what you’re trying to say.”
Jona blinked at you.
Then slowly, “Surely you must’ve trained closely together considering she’s a forward and you’re a keeper? Unless training was vastly different in Angel City, then I’m sorry for the assumption.”
“O–Oh, I thought you were implying—” You shook your head, uncrossing your arms as you waved the rest of your sentence away. “Never mind. But yes, that’s right.”
Jona gave you another questioning look before speaking again. 
“She’s going to be a big problem. And that’s why I’m going to change things up a bit. I want to put you in the starting lineup as soon as possible—put as many games with our current team under your belt. We’ll most likely face Lyon in the Quarters and that’s unfortunate but what is great is that you’re here: the best counter to what Lyon acquired. If we could eliminate Lyon early, we have a higher chance of winning this year’s Champions League. The question is, are you ready for it?”
“That’s what I’m here for, Jona.” You said seriously, ignoring the pressure that pressed in the periphery of your mind.
“Use me.”
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donascozylivingroom · 3 months
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LET GO OF THE STRESS AND HUSTLE TO 'GET THERE'
I was scrolling through tiktok and i found a post by someone who told me if i am comfortable in my life i shouldn't be, because i am not working on my next level. i got annoyed and skipped, two videos later: "if u want to be more comfortable..." ... skip!
i'm tired of society convincing us where we are is not ok. i either must want to be more or less comfortable, never accept my life and improve upon the life i have right now with as tiny steps as i feel i can right now.
guess what - I AM COMFORTABLE! And I love it.
I used to be a master at hustling, doing everything i can to get my million dollars and NYC Penthouse. Manifesting didn t work for me until i learned to robotically affirm and persist, and since then i am getting everything i want. And yeah I still have resistance to 2 of my only big desires, everything else i'm getting affirming 1-3 times because i assume i only need to affirm once and i get it, i repeated that for a while and ever since manifestation has been so easy.
And yeah just because i didn t get my 2 main desires yet, I AM COMFORTABLE. I understand that those things I want so much are part of my soul lessons and why my soul came here. God/Source/myself before this life decided to make some things harder than others, and that's okay.
My whole life i was either uncomfortable because i didn t get something external, or worried - why am I so comfortable?
I learned to never do anything that is not easy because my plan for this life is to FLOW, but still i was fed by the media that i am not perfect as i am, or where i am. It's not true.
Wherever you are, it's your starting place, your zero point. And if you are experiencing it, you are probably meant to be there. I mean look around u in the present moment, not to your mind. Are you okay? You're meant to be here, boo.
How can you make your life more beautiful where you are? How can you be more grateful for what is around you? What you already have.
There s no rush, you don't have to get there tomorrow. I know when you are young it seems like you have to do everything very fast, and the speed of manifestation on this planet has improved since i was a kid, everything seems to be more light and fast, BUT...
There will probably be a few more years until the speed of manifestation will be instant, especially for every single thing.
You are part of a collective, a collective consciousness, and everyone must be on board until they push the START button from above 🤭😁
We are literally on this mission together, it's not just about you, it is about the ascension of Earth and its citizens.
Don't stress! Make it your job to relax whatever happens and you will see small improvement after small improvement which will lead to an easy, chilled life that is financially supported by the Universe enough that u have time to do your affirmations, your journaling, your shadow work, etc. Make it a habit to not stress, because stress is always misaligned since it doesn t feel good.
My life currently: affirming, journaling and pinteresting most of the day while in bed...earlier i did groceries and got a lot of things i love to eat and would be considered expensive where i live. Spent 120 euro today and i am in europe. I don't work. I only manifest haha. I'm yet to be at the financial level i want (one of my two desires i'm working on) but i still live a comfortable life, a life that energetically i wish i will have once i have lots and lots of money, because the vibes are amazing. I'd rather have this warm house and bed, friendships and good vibes than a view from the last floor in NYC from my bed, while ridden with anxiety and loneliness.
Ya know.. Everything will be ok, if you struggle to affirm meditate and try your affirmations just once to check how it feels with eyes closed within your inner being..and then check more affirmations one at a time... and ask yourself, your inner being: what do i really need? what do i really want? and when you are clear, then start repeating and manifesting.
good luck!
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81folklore · 10 months
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happiness - CL16
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pairing: charles leclerc x ex!reader (fc: sabrina carpenter + pintrest) part 2
summary: releasing a song about your ex might finally stop the rumors surrounding your breakup (or: you release happiness about your ex charles leclerc)
authors note: this is my first ever post (and social media au) so please bear with me as im still figuring this all out!!) i dont use proper grammer and may mispell things!! the song ‘happiness’ by taylor is one of my faves so i had to use it, i am interpreting the song in a very specific way to fit the story! i do not own ‘happiness’ nor any song mentioned in this fic. it ended up longer than expected im so sorry😅
masterlist
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liked by annacathcart, henrymoodie and 1,550,456 others
its times like these wish i had a time machine,, i will miss you guys SO MUCH!! buuuut we are going international for the first time and i cannot wait to share my music with all you beautiful people🌟
see you soon paris & link for tickets in bio💌
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user5 cannot wait to see you in paris!!
user7 this tour has been one of the best things to ever happen to me, cant wait to scream nonsense at you once again🫶
user10 genuinely cant stand her after what she put charles through
user9 what are you talking about? their breakup was mutual
user10 seems like she doesnt care which means it clearly hasnt affected her
henrymoodie so excited to be opening for you in europe!
yourusername youre in for a treat tour mate🫣
user2 sigh i miss her and landos interactions
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definitely not the result we were hoping for but thank you for making my home race as special as always, onto the next one!
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user10 you tried your best which is all we ask
user3 i missed yn this week, home race didnt feel the same😔
user1 i thought it felt different, he seemed very distracted this weekend
user13 at least you finished the race (im coping badly)
user4 we love you charles keep pushing❤️🤍FORZA FERRARI
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liked by newhopegeorge, landonorris and 2,025,754 others
how am i supposed to leave you now that you’re already over..
paris you were so so lovely what did i do to deserve you guys :’) next stop brussels💌
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user89 talented, brilliant, incredible, show stopping, spectacular, wonderful, amazing!!
user52 forever missing you💌
user71 ok but yn why were you teasing a new song at the show…
yourusername shhhh
landonorris super proud of you
yourusername thank youuu landooo
user2 my prayers have been answered woooo
user46 i feel like i missed something, are lando and yn friends?
user5 yeah! lando was how yn met charles and theyve been friends for a few years now
ynupdates
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liked by user5, user16 and 13,456 others
yn on a new song she plans to release soon tonight at brussels ‘ive been writing a song for a while that really just helps explain the way ive been feeling these past few months, it was very therapeutic to write and ive really enjoyed the process!’ and when asked what the song was about she said ‘its about someone who will always mean alot to me, they know who they are and thats enough for me!’
she seemed very happy to be able to talk about it so expect more updates about that soon! next stop cologne, grab your tickets from the link in our bio💌
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user5 i cannot wait for new music
user16 what if she performs it on tour huh? what then? WHAT THEN??
user15 it’s definitely about charles, she had that same smile she wore when talking about him previously☹️
yourusername
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liked by vicdeangelis, lizzymcalpine, arthur_leclerc and 2,450,470 others
i cant make it go away by making you a villain, i guess its the price i paid for seven years in heaven…
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user5 these have to be song lyrics right??
user7 sounds like it might be about charles🤨
user10 not more music about charles, at least he gets free promo from them..
arthur_leclerc we miss you
yourusername i miss you guys too!! come to a show soon?
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jpmarvel90 · 10 months
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Guilt
Masterlist Natasha Masterlist
Relationship: Natasha x Reader
Summary: Natasha finally finds her sister Yelena. Only to discover she has a friend that escaped the Red Room with her. Distrust causes issues between the trio and leads to a break up of friendships.
Word Count: 8306
Y/n's POV:
Yelena and I were on the run for almost two years before her sister Natasha Romanoff found us. We had managed to escape the Red Room together and had been on the run ever since. Yelena had become like a sister to me. She's a year older than me but we've always looked out for each other. Our last few months in the Red Room were horrible and we went through things that no one ever should have to.
Once we escaped, we had a freedom neither of us thought we'd ever have. Even if we did have to move on every few months, we lived life to it's fullest. We moved across Europe, working any job that we could and always finding some shitty one bed apartment that we could live in. The aim was to save up as much money as we could to get to the US. Yelena was sure that was where her sister Natasha was, and I wanted to make sure she got reunited with her family. In the Red Room, they take everything away from you. Knowing that she was able to keep a hold of her sister, meant a lot to Yelena. She deserved to be happy.
I didn't know Natasha really, other than the rumours I heard whilst I was in the red room. As I was 7 years younger than her, I didn't have much to do with her. She seemed familiar but I put it down to the fact that we had training sessions with the older age groups at times and we probably met then at some point.
After she escaped, Yelena was moved to our section. She was punished for Natasha escaping and I helped to clean her wounds. It's how we became friends and over time, why I started to see her as my sister.
The moment that Natasha broke into our apartment in Budapest is something I'll never forget. I had just come back from the shop to find the two of them strangling each other with a curtain. When they called a truce, it was like none of that had ever happened. Natasha was quick to pull Yelena into a tight hug and apologise for leaving her in Red Room and not going back for her.
When she became aware of my presence, Natasha was quick to point a gun to my head. "No! No! Natasha, that's Y/n. Put the gun down!" Yelena shouted, stepping in front of her sister, and pushing her away. "Who's Y/n?" Natasha asks with a bite to her tone. "She was in the Red Room with me. She helped me escape. She can be trusted Natasha." Yelena tries to convince her. She looks me up and down before dropping the gun. "You look familiar." She grunts as she slips her weapon into the back of her jeans. "She was J block. It's where I was moved to when you left." Yelena explains for me.
"Hmm. I think I worked with them a few times." She thought out loud. She's probably right. They often sent the older kids in to practice their technique on us. I had even seen some of my friends killed by them. I was even almost killed in one training session. They were completely brain washed by Dreykov and his men to do horrible things.
After the reunion in Budapest, Natasha offered Yelena a place within Shield, and with that a place to stay with her at the compound where her and her team lived. Yelena only agreed to go if I was allowed to go with them. Natasha reluctantly agreed and before we knew it, we were on a jet flying to New York.
The whole way there, Yelena and I held hands, excited that we were finally safe, no longer having to stay on the run to keep alive. Maybe we'd even get the chance to take down the red room once and for all. For the whole flight, however, I could feel Natasha's harsh gaze on me. It made me feel a little uncomfortable, but I tried to ignore it. Maybe she was just slightly jealous that I had such a close relationship with Yelena.
Over the next few months, my relationship with Natasha did not improve. In fact, I'm sure it got worse, no matter how hard I tried. She just didn't seem to trust me. And because she didn't trust me, the rest of the team were reluctant to do so either. Initially, Yelena tried to get us to all get along. But I could see that she felt like she was in the middle. So, I encouraged her to spend more time with Natasha. She had been desperately trying to get back to her for years, it's only right that they have time together. I'd be ok.
Over time though, Yelena started to spend less and less time with me. At times she would barely talk to me, it was almost like I was a chore for her. The tag along that was only there to help her escape. Now she has her sister and new family, I'm not needed anymore. I've tried really hard to make friends with the others on the team, but it doesn't seem to be going very well. Especially with Steve, he's always harder on me than the others and I can see he has a hatred for me in his eyes.
I considered leaving, but after talking with Agent Hill and Directory Fury, I found a purpose to stay. I could help to take down the red room. They both trusted me, and I appreciated that. I worked with them a lot on a number of missions to get the intel that we would need to finally put an end of other girls ending up like Yelena, Natasha and me.
Having that purpose didn't make it any easier back at the compound. I still was required to go on missions with the Avengers, but that was the only time any of them would really talk to me now. Even Yelena. It really started to hurt. I thought I meant more to her, but clearly not. I don't know why I ever thought that I would fit in anywhere. I spent my childhood locked away and with no family to help me find my way, I was always going to be an outcast.
After a particularly bad mission, I was on the receiving end of a barrage of abuse from Steve and Sam. I hadn't done anything wrong, but they were looking for someone to blame and that landed solely on me. The whole journey back on the quinjet was torture as they took it in turns yelling at me. I didn't have anything to say in response, I know I would only make things worse. But what really hurt was the way that Yelena didn't say a word to even try to stand up for me. Especially when the next attack that came out of Steve's mouth. "I wouldn't be surprised if you were a double agent really working for Hydra and Dreykov. All these solo missions you do. Are you really reporting back to the enemy?" He spits at me. I open my mouth to defend myself, but he quickly holds his hand up to me. "You don't talk!" He hisses.
He takes a deep breath before turning to me once again. "You're just a trained murderer who will never be able to make up for the red in her ledger. You're not worthy of the place you have been afforded here." I have to choke back the sob that fights to get out. My glossed over eyes look to Yelena who instantly looks away. I'm the same as her, the same as Natasha, yet none of them can give me the benefit of the doubt.
Thankfully, the quinjet lands at his last sentence and I'm the first off, the jet. I rush to my room and start to pack my bags instantly. I can't stay here anymore. I don't feel safe. I know that I don't have the teams support and I'm only a danger to them and myself.
I don't own a lot, so it doesn't take me long until I'm packed up. A miserable depiction of my life. I wait until I know everyone will be having dinner and I'll be able to slip out with no issues. Leaving probably will make them think I'm working for the enemy even more, but I won't stay here any longer.
When I'm ready to leave, I reach up and take off the necklace that has hung around my neck for the last two and a half years. It's a spider charm. Yelena brought us each one with her first pay cheque. It was meant to represent our relationship as sisters. Now it just symbolises everything that I've lost. I place it on top of the chest of draws in my room then I grab my small duffle bag and make my way out. As I sneak past the kitchen, I hear them all laughing together. A family that I'll never be a part of.
When I leave the compound, I make my way to Shield headquarters. Luckily, Fury is still there, and I explain everything that has happened. I practically beg him to let me leave and go as far away from here as possible. He offers me the chance to be free, away from Shield and far away from the Avengers, if I carry out one last mission with Agent Hill. I instantly agree when he gives me the details. If I can do one final good thing to help defeat the red room, then I'll take it. It feels like the only thing that I have left to give to this world.
Nat's POV:
Watching the way Steve and Sam tore strips off Y/n on the way back home was hard to see. It wasn't her fault that we failed that mission. But she was the chosen target for their anger. I could see Y/n getting smaller and smaller with each insult that was flung her way.
But I'm sure I saw the moment her heart actually broke. You'd think it was the moment Steve called her a murder, not worthy of her place. That did damage, of course it did, but the moment her heart broke was when she looked to Yelena for any kind of support, only for her to look away. That was the moment I saw the tiniest bit of light left in Y/n's eyes disappear. I should have said something. I should have stood up for her. If that is how Steve sees Y/n, then that is what he should think of me and Yelena, and I know for a fact he doesn't.
I feel immense guilt as I watch Y/n rush off the jet. I've not made her life easy since she's been here. But it's been misguided. I remember Y/n. Of course I do. She was my target to kill. I had been put against her in a fight to the death. But she was strong. She fought well. I beat her to an inch of her life at the orders of Dreykov, only to be stopped from choking her to death at the last moment. He had deemed her worthy of living for the fight she had put up.
I still remember the fear in her eyes as she thought I was about to take her life away. I knew who she was as soon as she walked into the apartment in Budapest. But I didn't know how to be around her, so I didn't try. The benefit of being the Black Widow, is being able to hide how I really feel. What I didn't realise was how much that would affect the team's thoughts on her.
They believed that I didn't trust her so decided they didn't either. I mean, it's good to know that the team support me like that. But it must have been hell for Y/n. She would try so hard to fit in but was met by cold shoulders from everyone. Even Wanda and she will make an effort with everyone. It made my guilt grow even more, but instead of putting a stop to it, I just started to remove myself from the situation. I would hang out with Yelena as much as I could because she was the one person that could make the guilt disappear for a split second. Y/n represents every bad thing I did in the red room, and I let her suffer for it.
But I know now that I need to fix this. I would observe Y/n and I truly believe she is one of a kind. She has such a kind soul for someone who has been through so much hell. Things were bad when I was in the red room, but they only got worse after I left. Yelena had told me some stories and they always ended with Y/n being there for her. I'm glad that she had someone like her during such a horrible time in her life.
I would find myself craving to get to know Y/n more, knowing that my life would only be brighter to have her in it. But I didn't deserve that, so I shut off any thoughts of that. I could not and would not think of her more than a work colleague. I wish I didn't because I don't think I'll be able to make up for everything that has happened over the past six months since the two of them came home with me.
After we got off the jet, I went straight to Yelena's room. She slammed her bag on to the floor as soon as she got there. "What gives Steve the right to talk to Y/n like that. She didn't do anything." She says angrily, pacing around her room. "She was brain washed. We all were. She was always the best of us, the one who kept the small amount of hope that we would all be ok. He has no right to talk to her like that." She shouts as she drops onto her bed.
I take a seat next to her as she breaths heavily. "We should go and talk to her and make sure she's ok." I suggest, earning a nod from Yelena. When we leave her room, we're greeted by Steve. "Tony ordered Pizza, come join us." He says with a smile. "We'll just go and get Y/n and see you there." I say but he stops me. "She's not welcome. The team don't want her there. Now join us." He says sternly. I just look at him in disbelief.
I'm sure I see smoke coming off of Yelena's head as Steve walks away. "That asshole." She mumbles, clenching her fists in anger. I place a hand on her shoulder. "Let's take a moment and then go to her." I suggest but she snaps her head to me. "Why do you suddenly care?" She snaps, but I don't blame her. My gaze drops to the floor before I decide that now's the time tell her the truth. I guide her back into her room and sit her on the bed. I take a deep breath and explain everything that happened in the red room. How I almost killed Y/n and let the guilt affect how I treated her once she was here.
Yelena sat there in shock after I finished admitting the truth. "She never would have blamed you for that. In fact, one of her best friends in there was someone who shot her. We had to do as we were ordered or we got killed or punished, she never held that against anyone." Yelena tells me, which just makes my guilt grow even more, if that's even possible!
"We need to make things up to her and try and get the team to see she's not a threat. I can't believe that I've let this happen." Yelena sighs, and I can feel the pain radiating off her. "Come on then, let's not waste any more time." I tell her, holding my hand out to her. She gives me a smile and takes it. When we reach her door Yelena knocks but gets no answer. She knocks again. "Y/n/n, it's me. Can I come in?" She asks but is met with silence.
"Friday, is Y/n in there?" I ask the AI before we go barging in. "No Agent Romanoff. Y/n left the compound with her belongings 20 minutes ago." The AI responds. Not wanting to believe what she just heard, Yelena opens the door and calls out for Y/n again. "Please Y/n. We're here to apologise." I can hear the desperation in her voice as she goes into the bathroom and opens the wardrobe to see them empty.
Tears start to fill her eyes and then they land on something on the top of the chest of draws. And this here is the moment I see my sister's own heart break. Her hand shakes as she reaches out to pick up the necklace that is waiting for her. "We vowed to never take these off. They were to show that we were always with the other regardless of where we were. What have I done?" She whispers that last bit as she slides down the wall to the floor. I sit next to her and wrap an arm around her as I fight tears of my own, knowing that I'll never be able to fix this for either Y/n or my sister.
"Director Fury has asked for your presence in the meeting room." Friday informs us. I look to Yelena and we both take a moment to compose ourselves before heading out to meet Fury. The rest of the team are already waiting in there as we take our seats. "Who the fuck wants to explain why my best agent has just handed in her resignation." He yells, hitting his hand down on the table. It makes me jump to see his anger.
"None of us have done anything to Agent Hill." Steve defends but Fury's head snaps to him. "Not Hill. Y/l/n." He says with a fire in his eyes. Steve scoffs at his words. "She got what was coming to her. She's clearly been working with Hydra. How else do you explain all these 'solo' missions she's been doing?" He argues, a venom lacing his voice. Fury lets out a small chuckle and we instantly know that's not a good sign.
"Those solo missions were at my request." He states and the air in the room seems to disappear. It's like everyone has realised what has happened. "B-but Romanoff doesn't trust her." Steve tries to defend. Everyone's eyes fall to me. "I've never said that. I had my own problems that had nothing to do with Y/n but my inability to deal with my past." I admit, but I know some of the blame falls to me as well.
"What even were these missions?" Steve questions Fury, again a bad move. "Know your place, Rogers. I don't think you realise the asset we've just lost." Another scoff comes from Steve. "She's not an asset to anyone." Fury slams his hand down on the table once more which startles us all. "Watch what the next words are to come out of your mouth." He growls and Steve instantly shrinks into his seat. "Y/n was helping me to collect information on the red room. As one of the last known people to escape, her knowledge was invaluable to us. It's because of her, we're the closest we've ever been to taking them out." Silence fills the room as Fury explains what Y/n has been doing before Yelena speaks up.
"But I escaped with her. Why did you ask me to help?" She asks, as Fury gives her a pitying look. "Y/n didn't want you to have to relive what happened to you in there or risk losing your family. She was protecting you." Fury explained. Yelena's mouth opens and closes but nothing comes out as she realises what Y/n has done for her. For us.
Fury turns his attention back to the rest of the team. "She thought if she could bring down the red room, that she could prove to you all that she was trustworthy and earn her place here. Maybe even gain a family. But instead, she's left here believe she is and has nothing. So much for earth's mightiest heroes. You can't even be there for your teammate." And with that Fury left the briefing room, leaving us all shellshocked at his revelations.
I can hear quiet sobs coming from Yelena as I try to fight the sick feeling in my stomach knowing she's out there alone feeling like she never meant anything to us. To me. "She's always put me first. Always protected me. She was my sister but as soon as I came here, I tossed her aside, too scared of losing you. I've let her down. I couldn't even stand up for her against Steve." I go to wrap my arm around her, but she shrugs me off. "Don't. I'm so ashamed of myself, of us. How we have treated her. All she has ever wanted is a family. To feel like she belonged somewhere. But I bought her here just for her to feel like she's a monster." She cries before storming out of the room.
The rest of the team are in shock. I decide to share with them what I did with Yelena. They deserve to know the whole truth. If we're able to bring Y/n back, she deserves this team at their best. They are an amazing family. I just wish I hadn't allowed this to happen.
Steve instantly feels guilty after I explain. "I should never have said what I did to her. I misplaced my anger. I just assumed the worse. I'm sorry Nat. You came from the same place as she did. What I said wasn't only disrespectful to her, but you as well." He apologises. I can see the sincerity in his face. "It's not me that deserves an apology. I've let Y/n down more than anyone here. She is a good person, and we would have been lucky to have her in our lives. I just hope that we can repair this." Knowing there is nothing more I can do. I get up to leave to find Yelena.
As I'm walking past Y/n's room, I hear crying. I open the door and I'm greeted by Yelena hugging her pillow close to her. I slowly get into the bed behind her. I wrap my arms around her and let her cry and express what she needs to. "I let her down Nat. I should have been there for her, but I wasn't. How can I ever call myself a sister to her after I just left her like I did? She deserves better." She laments, the pain evident in her voice.
"She's not safe Nat. They'll know it was her that has been doing these missions. They'll be going after her and if they get her, they'll kill her and it'll be my fault." She turns in my hold and sobs into my chest. I'm crying myself knowing that she's right. I've never seen Yelena like this. She's completely broken. I need to fix this for both of them. I can't see Yelena like this, and I just want to have a second chance with Y/n.
When we finally have pulled ourselves together, we get up and start our search to find her. Tony lets us use anything he has to try and find her, but it's no use. For weeks we try to look for her, but we get nothing. Not even a hint of where she could be. I pray it's because she is good enough to go off the grid like this. But in my stomach, I have this gnawing feeling that she's been captured and killed. It's the more likely answer, but I don't dare say it allowed. She has to be ok. She has to be alive.
Three years later
"I've got something!" Tony comes running into the dining room one evening with the biggest grin on his face. "I don't think we want to know what you've got." Sam jokes, causing us all to laugh. "Funny. But no. I've got a hit on the facial recognition for Y/n." Silence falls over us all at his words. "She's in Pennsylvania." He informs us. I feel Yelena's hand grip my thigh at his words.
We never gave up. These last three years, we have all still been looking for her. Determine to find her. The team have been helping us and we take it in turns to trawl CCTV and all of the databases that we can for any hint that's alive and well. So to hear that we finally have something, a possibility of seeing her again after these last few years is such a great feeling.
"What are we waiting for we should go!" Steve jumps up and orders us. It really affected him after we all found out the truth. He spent weeks reading over Y/n's solo mission reports. What she did was incredible and how she hid some of her injuries I'll never know. But I guess when no one gives you the time of day, it's easy enough to do. "I don't think we should all go in guns blazing. Besides we don't know what state she is in." Tony rebuts which causes Steve to reluctantly agree.
"Yelena and I will go. We'll assess the situation and hopefully bring her home safe. If we need it, we'll call in for backup." I say authoritatively. They all eagerly agree before Yelena, and I head off to grab what we need. We pack a bag as we don't know what we're going into. We need to do this carefully. If she's been taken by the red room, we can't screw this up.
Tony has arranged everything for us, including staying in a hotel in the small town she's been located in. Whilst on the quinjet there, I'm doing additional research to see if we have any intel of there being a Hydra or red room base there. After Y/n left, it became harder for us to find any information on the red room. Yelena and I went on missions in place of her, but we didn't get the same results. The red room is still active, but we are so close to ending it. I just hope it hasn't come at too high a cost.
We arrive in a town called Ligonier, a very traditional US town. We land the jet away from any people and make our way to the town centre and our hotel. Once we've checked in, we set up all our tech so we have communications back home with the compound, as well as the software for facial recognition. I can tell that Yelena just wants to go out and search the whole town for her, but we need to be sensible.
So, we spend that evening gathering as much info as we can, Tony being a great help to us from back home. "The facial recognition I got was from a coffee shop on the main street of the town. It's probably a good place to start. Interestingly, there are either no cameras there, or the ones that are don't work. Almost like someone doesn't want to be found." He starts to explain. "Where did you get her then?" I question as I find the location of the coffee shop. A camera from the town hall across the way. It picks her briefly in the back of the frame." He explains.
After coming up with a plan of action, we head to bed but neither of us can sleep. "I'm excited to see her again." Yelena says from her bed next to me. "But I'm also worried that she's not safe or won't want to see us." She adds on and I can hear the pain in her voice. Y/n leaving affected Yelena a lot. She has carried around a guilt that she wasn't there for her and let her be treated like she was. I've lost count of the times I'd find her in Y/n's room crying, terrified that she was dead, and it was all her fault. Truth is, it would all be mine.
"The main thing is that she's safe. We can work on forgiveness after that." I say and Yelena hums in agreement. "You know. I always thought you liked her at first. It's why I tried to get you to allow her to join us so much. But then over time I just realised you didn't like her at all, and I chose you over her. If only I had known, I could have made things right between you." She chuckles lowly whilst my eyes widen.
I feel Yelena's eyes on me when I don't respond. "Oh my God! You do like her!" She squeals, turning so she's facing me. "Shut up. I don't." I weakly defend. "HA! See it's so clear! You like Y/n!" She teases me whilst I huff, knowing that I'm not going to hide it from her. "Are you mad?" I ask timidly which seems to shock Yelena. "Not that you like her. You both deserve to be happy. Maybe a little mad that if you hadn't put your head in the sand, we wouldn't have been in this position of trying to find her after her disappearance three years ago!" She lightly scolds.
"I always thought whoever would end up with Y/n would be one of the luckiest people in the world. Maybe that could be you." She adds on which causes a smile to form on my face. But I quickly shake my head knowing that we have to find her and earn her forgiveness first.
We eventually fall asleep and wake up refreshed, ready to bring Y/n home. We're up early and head to the coffee shop that she was spotted in. We order our drinks and sit out of the way, but still with a good view of the whole shop. After about an hour, Y/n rushes in through the door apologising. "I'm so sorry Jill. Mia did not want to leave this morning. I'll make up for it." She rambles as she grabs an apron from behind the counter. "Don't worry about it Y/n. It's not busy. Take a breath." This Jill reassures her.
We stay for another hour and make the decision to leave, not wanting her to spot us just yet. Instead, we stay locally, to get an idea of when her shift ends. We go back the next few days and just seeing her so carefree makes me happy. "She looks good. I love the blonde hair." Yelena states as we get into bed that evening. "I thought she had been captured, but to see her alive and well is good." I reply. Knowing that she's safe is such a relief.
The next day, we go to the coffee shop for the end of her shift. We decided that we'll try and talk to her today. We're both really nervous, but I'm hopeful that we might be able to start on the road to fixing this. Whilst sat at our same table, I watch almost mesmerised as Y/n floats around the coffee shop. She knows a lot of the people here and they seem to enjoy her being around. "She looks happy." I observe and Yelena nods.
Just as the clock is about to hit three, we're both startled by the door to the shop slamming open and a little girl running in. "Mama!" She shouts as she sprints through the shop. I smile at how cute the little girl is, but I feel my heart in my throat when she is running straight to Y/n. "Hi my baby." Y/n greets the child, picking her up and spinning her around. "Mama?" Yelena questions next to me.
"Can we go home now?" The little girl asks. "Give me 10 minutes sweetie and I'll be ready to go. I'll grab you a muffin whilst you wait." Y/n responds, sitting the girl at a table. Y/n finishes up her last few jobs before returning to her daughter. Wow that sounds weird. I find myself stuck to my seat not entirely sure what I'm feeling. I've missed my chance.
As her and the girl walk out the door, her eyes land on us. They go wide and she is quickly rushing out the door of the coffee shop. Yelena is far quicker than me and has jumped out of her seat and is chasing after Y/n. When I finally get my sense back, I follow quickly after, to see Yelena just catching up to Y/n. "Please, just wait. We've been looking for you for years." Yelena pleads.
Y/n is now holding the scared little girl in her arms as her eyes stare down Yelena. "We just want to talk. To have a chance to apologise. Please." Yelena practically begs. I can tell that seeing Yelena like this is having an effect on Y/n. She lets out a sigh and slowly nods. "Follow me." She mumbles and turns on her heal.
We follow her to a small little house just on the outskirts of town. The garden is immaculate and when she opens the door, it feels so homely. "Mia, why don't you go and play with your toys upstairs. Mama just needs to talk to these ladies." Y/n instructs the child, who seems reluctant to go. "But they're scary." Mia mumbles which causes Yelena to let out a small chuckle. "It's ok sweetheart. I'll be ok." Y/n reassures her.
Reluctantly Mia leaves and heads upstairs. I start to wonder around the small living space whilst Y/n makes us a drink. There aren't many photos up. Most of them are of Mia, but there are some with Y/n in too. This gives me the smallest bit of hope that it means she's not with someone else.
Y/n enters the living room with a tray with three glasses and a bottle of vodka. "Figured you wouldn't want a tea and I sure as hell need this for whatever you're here for." She says as she fills three glasses. There's a silence as we sit, neither Yelena nor I knowing where to start. The sound of the ticking clock is all you can hear and the occasional giggle from upstairs.
I notice that each time we can hear that, Y/n's face lights up. "So, you have a daughter." Yelena breaks the silence. "I do." Y/n responds shortly. "Were you pregnant whilst you were with us? I didn't know you were with anyone." Yelena questions. "Like you would have noticed anyway." Y/n scoffs. "But no. I wasn't. She's not biologically mine." Y/n admits which takes us a little by surprise. "Oh." Is all Yelena responds with. "Where have you been?" I now ask, wanting to know that she has in fact been safe since she left us. "Why should I tell you? You can't just turn up here and demand answers from me. It's been three years." She says firmly. She certainly got her confidence since she left!
"We've been worried about you Y/n. All we've wanted to do is apologise to you after that day. Well, not even just for that day. For everything, for the way I treated you when I promised you, we'd always be there for each other." Yelena answers, a hint of desperation in her voice. "For three years, I have been so angry at myself for getting so caught up on Natasha and not losing her, that I ended up losing you instead. It was like I felt like I couldn't have two sisters and being around Nat and the others made me feel like I had my family. I was a coward to let them isolate you like they did."
I have never heard Yelena talk so honest and openly about something before. It's obvious she is baring her soul her, and I think Y/n realises that too. "All I ever did was try and fit in with everyone. I knew we wouldn't always be together, but I didn't think that was how it was going to go." Y/n shares, pain in her eyes. "You just gave up on me. You couldn't even defend me to Steve." There's a crack in Y/n's voice, which she tries to hide.
"We both owe you an apology for that. How he spoke to you that day was out of line. We can't change what happened, but I hope that we can work to fix what we broke." I step in now. I know I'm going to have to tell her about why I acted like I did. But I'm dreading it. What if I tell her and she never wants to see me again?! I think that would break me. "I also owe you an explanation for why I treated you like I did." I start, wanting to get this out of the way.
"I know why. You didn't trust me around Yelena." She answers for me. I quickly shake my head. "No, that's not it at all." I defend, looking to Yelena who gives me a reassuring nod. I take a deep breath and explain everything to her. How I couldn't forgive myself for what I did, and I dealt with it all in the completely wrong way. She sat there shocked when I finished. Her silence was so tense. I was sure she was about to kick us out and tell us that she never wanted to see us again.
"Did you want to kill me?" She asks and I'm quick to deny it. "Of course not! I could never want to hurt you." I admit and she smiles. "You were controlled Natasha. We all did things that we didn't want to. But we had to to survive. I would never have held that against you." She tells me with such sincerity, it causes me to start crying. Knowing that she doesn't blame me brings such relief, but it also brings anguish at the thought of how I treated her.
"I'm still here sat in front of you. I'm alive and well with the most beautiful little daughter. You didn't ruin anything that day in the red room." She shares with a wide smile. "Yeah, about that child." Yelena jumps in. "Where did you get her?" She asks and I laugh at her blunt question. "When I went to hand in my resignation, Fury asked me to carry out one more mission for him. In return he would allow me to go free from it all. I instantly agreed. The mission was easy, but I came across a small baby, she was a little over a year old. I have no idea how she got there or what their plans were for her, but I couldn't leave her. When I arrived back at Shield with a baby in my arms, Fury stepped up for me. He helped me adopt her and get this house with a job and a new identity. Somewhere safe where Shield are still able to protect us if we need it." She explains.
If it's possible, it makes me lov-like her even more. She's so selfless. "Protect you. Are you in danger?" Yelena asks in a panicked tone. "Not directly. But with the red room still running, there will always be a chance they come for the both of us." She replies. "You know I never stopped seeing you as a sister." Yelena blurts out of nowhere. Y/n has a small smile on her face at those word. "I never did either. But I knew that the compound wasn't the place for me anymore. It was where your family was, not mine." Hearing those words is hard to take. We should have been the family she deserved but we weren't and it's all down to me.
"Do you have that family now?" I ask but I notice her head drop a little. "Mia and I make do. The people here are nice and look out for us." She responds. "Come home with us." It's my turn to now blurt things out and the request takes both Yelena and Y/n by surprise. "Hey! I was supposed to be the one to ask her that. Cyka." Yelena complains with a pout.
"But she's right. Come back with us. We can be the family you deserve. And you'd be safe too. Mia would never have to worry about the red room." Yelena directs towards Y/n. "I could make sure my niece is safe." Yelena smiles. "Your niece?" Y/n questions with a smirk. "You're my sister whether you want to be or not, so therefore she is my niece." She argues whilst Y/n lets out a hum.
"Mama! Can I have a dwink pwease?" Mia rushes down the stairs out of breath into Y/n's arms. "What did I say about running down the stairs?" Y/n scolds. "Sorry Mama." Mia apologises with the cutest little look. Oh she is going to have everyone putty in her hands. "I'll get her a drink. Milk?" Yelena jumps up, already trying to prove herself. "Please." Y/n nods holding Mia against her.
Mia's big eyes land on me and I smile at her. "Who is she?" Mia whispers to her mama. "That's Natasha. And that loud one over there is Yelena." Y/n responds, earning a gasp from Yelena. "I am not loud!" She shouts which causes Mia to let out a loud laugh in response. Yelena comes back over and hands over the glass of warm milk to Mia who happily sits and drinks.
"So... will you come back with us?" Yelena asks and Y/n sighs. "I don't want to have Mia in that environment where everyone hates her mama." Y/n responds. "They don't hate you. They understand what they did was wrong. Steve has been feeling guilt ever since you left. He was ready to jump on the quinjet with us and be here with us to apologise to you straight away." I tell her, wanting her to know that it will not be the same as it once was. "Besides, I won't let anyone say anything against you. I won't make that same mistake again." I say quietly, almost coming over as shy. "Me too. We'll protect you." Yelena confirms.
Y/n thinks for a while. "Ok, but I promise if anything like that happens again, I'm gone for good. I don't care about me, but I will protect Mia with everything I have." Y/n agrees which makes both Yelena and I jump up in excitement. "Why are they so happy?" Mia asks, placing her glass on the table. Yelena rushes over and picks her up and spins her around. "You're coming to live with your Auntie Yelena!" She shares excitedly. Considering this kid has just met us, she is so excited at the thought. Y/n just shakes her head at their antics, but she looks to me and our eyes meet. I smile at her which she easily returns.
We stay with Y/n for the week whilst she sorts all her affairs out here. We have called the team and told them that Y/n is coming home with us. We may have missed out a small detail of the child, but we wanted to surprise them all. I could tell that Y/n was nervous on the flight home. Mia was asleep, curled up on Yelena's lap, whilst Y/n was staring at the wall, her leg bouncing.
I take a seat next to her and place and hand on knee. "It's going to be ok." I try to comfort her. "I won't let anything happen to you. To either of you." I reassure her. "You've got Yelena and I completely. You're safe." She rests her head on my shoulder and looks towards the two sleeping children. "I think I'm more worried about the influence Yelena is going to have on Mia." She jokes, breaking the tension. "Oh, that I can't help you with. Yelena is a force even I can't control." I joke in return, earning a laugh from Y/n. Something that has become my favourite sound.
When the jet comes into land, Y/n gentle wakes Mia up, whilst I give Yelena a slap on the shoulder to rouse her. Y/n holds Mia on her hip, who is clinging to her mama as the ramp of the jet starts to lower. We're surprised to see such a welcoming party. Everyone is there, including Fury and Maria. I can see that it's overwhelming Y/n a little, but she takes a deep breath and starts to walk forwards.
"Agent Y/l/n. Good to see you again. You too little one." Fury greets booping Mia's nose. He quickly clears his throat when he notices we're all looking at him in shock and mutters something about important work to do before leaving. That leaves us with the team and the nerves have hit Y/n again. "Who's this?" Tony asks pointing to the child in Y/n's arms. "This is Mia. My daughter." The team gasp at Y/n's response. "Hi." Mia whispers giving a cute little wave. "No one hurts Y/n or my niece. If you do I will make your life hell." Yelena protectively growls. There's an agreement from the team as they slowly make their way forward to greet Y/n. Each giving their own apology.
"I'm going to build you a specific section here at the compound. I'll make sure you each have your own room and a living space. A place you can call home." Tony excitedly rambles on as he guides Y/n inside. "In the meantime, I'll arrange for your room to be kitted out for the two of you." He carries on. I can see the appreciation in Y/n's eyes as Tony rushes off, ordering Friday to order a new bed.
"Uh, Y/n. Could we talk?" Steve approaches Y/n, which causes Yelena and I to naturally step between them. "Please I just want to apologise." He pleads. "I'll take my little munchkin. Don't fuck up." Yelena warns, taking Mia from Y/n's arms. "fuck..." Y/n's head snaps to Mia as the colour drains from Yelena's face. "You are going to fix that." Y/n growls at Yelena who instantly apologises and rushes off, telling Mia that she can't say that word again.
I step away, but make sure I'm in ear shot should Steve not be being truthful with his intentions. "I just want to apologise for what I said that day and how I treated you whilst you were with us. I'm not going to make up any excuses because there aren't any. I was out of order, and I hope over time you can forgive me. You were an asst to this team, I was just too blind to see it." He's genuine in his delivery and I can see the cogs turning in Y/n's head. "Over time I think I can forgive you. Just don't be an ass again. I've got more to lose this time and I will do anything to protect that." She warns and I'm so happy that she is standing up for herself. "Of course. You and your daughter are safe here." He reassures her.
Content with the apology, Y/n moves further into the compound to find the two troublemakers. I follow to see Yelena and Mia asleep on Y/n's bed. "Remind me why I agreed for these two to live together?" She sighs. "Because we both unfortunately have her as our sister." I tease causing Y/n to laugh. "I know that Mia is safe here as long as Yelena's around." She whispers and I wrap my arm around her. "You're both safe here. I'll make sure of it." I tell her firmly. She looks up at me and our eyes lock on each other. I know that I will protect this woman with my life.
Two years later
I couldn't be happier in this moment as I hold Y/n close to me as the music plays. "I can't believe you're finally my wife." I whisper to her as her head rests against my shoulder, our bodies swaying to the beat. "Took you long enough to ask." She jokes and I pinch her side. "Hey! I had a real fear you'd say no." I defend weakly. "Unfortunately, you managed to worm your way into my heart that there was never going to be a chance I could keep going in this life without you. I was just waiting for you to take the leap." She responds, lifting her head to lock her gaze with mine.
"Oh, shut up. I had this from our daughter too. Bugging me every day to marry you. In fact, I think I was ambushed!" I tease and she laughs. "Well, you're stuck with me now. I'm not letting go." She replies. I lean down so my lips are hovering over hers. "Good, me neither." I whisper as I connect our lips in a soft kiss. "When are we going to tell our little spider that she's going to be a big sister?" I ask, placing my hand on my wife's stomach. "After the honeymoon. I want to have this time together first." She answers to which I easily agree. I will do anything for my wife and my kids.
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crowbird · 2 months
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Jason was not there for books. He was there for answers and you seemed suspiciously willing to answer. Or maybe that was the paranoia. You hadn't invited him in with eager arms but rather stepped aside and offered to chat over tea.
The bookshop is remarkably ordinary and yet mildly unnerving. Perhaps that's just Jason though, he finds himself, against all reason and judgement sitting across from you. The back of the shop is piled high with boxes and old furniture, a space in the centre cleared for a tea table and accompanying chairs. He stared at the tea in front of him mildly flabbergasted.
"Do you need sugar?"
"No." He croaked.
You nodded sagely, "honey then," and a jar of the stuff was placed on the table before him. He was fairly certain he had never seen honey of that nature before, even if he couldn't explain why. There was no brand label on the mason jar and the honey was rich and golden and yet all the same there was something just a little wrong about it.
Yet he found himself adding it to the tea, a choice that turned out to be a good one.
"What are you doing here?" He finally managed to say, "and how come I couldn't enter before?" The words tumbled out in an embarrassing manner.
"Drinking tea and I have wards up." You shrugged gesturing to your scars, "some use sigils to enhance and in turn others use sigils to guard. I removed them so you could enter."
"Oh, uh, right." Jason took another sip of tea, the honey soothed the frog caught in his throat and he found his voice easier this time. "I didn't mean like right now it's just this isn't exactly the location for a bookshop, I meant what are you doing here as in Gotham. You have to understand how suspicious it is to just appear like this here of all places right?"
You stared at him blankly. Before speaking, "Gotham?"
"Gotham City?" Jason tried, feeling a tad foolish and hoping he didn't come off as mocking.
You paused, contemplated, drank some tea and then shrugged. "Is that the name of this place then?"
Jason looked at you, trying to keep his focus on your eyes and not the curved scars of what he was sure now was some sort of sigil. "Okay, let's try this a different way, where are you from?" He tried again, the absurdity of this situation knocking around his brain as it seemed to eat away at any of his competence.
"Europa, if you want specifics my family is from Bohemia but I've lived in Rondon for the past few years until semi recently due to well... circumstance." You did not elaborate on circumstance but rather said it in a manner that made Jason sure he should know what you were referring to. It was common sense, everyone knew by now, and yet the knowledge eluded him entirely. You had said words and they had meanings he was sure of that much, he just had no idea what those meanings were.
It was Jason's turn to stare. "You mean Europe?"
"No? I mean Europa." There was a confusion then in your tone, the sort found over mispronunciation or a poorly spelled text. "I should assume then this is not said continent but—"
"It's not." Jason said, blunt and a little rude but he was nearing the point of frustration. Frustrated at the state of conversation and how it seemed to be halted so soon after speaking, at the lack of answers, at just, the everything about it all. And despite that he took a deep breath and drank some more tea, and waited for you to speak again.
"Then which is it?"
"America." He said, genuinely and utterly flabbergasted. He knew full well that answer was only partially correct but the technicalities seemed to be lagging in the back of his brain in his attempt to comprehend the conversation at hand. There was a part of him that was positive this was a very very elaborate prank. Or perhaps a scheme to get him unmasked. Even if he didn't particularly hold his secret identity in the sanctity as he once did it was still the principle of the matter.
Yet you were staring at him as if he had suddenly burst into song. Something genuine and serious in your expression.
"What the fuck is America."
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crow's note: this is a series now, or a mini series? when I've finished I'll probably compile it into one thing on ao3. also i've decided to refer to the reader in this series as "sigils" so if asked about them in the third person I will address them like such however within the actual story they will remain nameless and exclusively referred to with gender neutral pronouns.
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