Tumgik
#feel a little bad for watching this before i've even watched 2 and 3 but in my defense he is sooo so hot
exdeputysonso · 1 year
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Dr. Jonathan Gediman - Alien Resurrection (1997)
2K notes · View notes
scarletlizzard · 1 month
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Inked Desires - Part 2
Read Part 1 right here
Summary: After your one night stand with a stranger turns into a regular hookup, feelings begin to develop between you and Natasha. A night out at the bar with your friends has her begging wanting more with you.
Pairing: gp!Natasha x fem!Reader
Tags MINORS DNI: natasha has a dick, buff out this world & covered with tats and piercings, little bit of yearning and pining, mentions of alcohol, smut, blowjob, unprotected sex, breeding, begging, miscommunication
Masterlist
A/N: Part 1 blew up like crazy! I never ever thought I would EVER get that many notes. Especially for, essentially, a smut piece I wasn't used to writing. After being asked a few times, I agreed to make a part 2, buuut I've been in a (bad) writing rut lately. So I wanna shout out the person who gave me so many good ideas and an actual plot to work with. Y'all can thank just her for there actually being a part 2 cause there almost wasn't one 🙏 Thanks for helping, kisses for your big brilliant brain.
Hopefully, she and y'all like it? It's a bit longer. Let me know what you think, please, and thank you thank you so much for reading 💞
That being said, there will be a part 3 😄
"Split? Like down the middle?" Kate asks with a look of shock on her face. You walk in step beside her along the concrete path on campus.
"Right down the middle," you laugh and adjust the bag on your shoulder, thinking back to just a few days ago when Natashas skillful tongue worked its magic on your body. Your cheeks heat up at the memory.
That first night you met, Natasha had given you a kiss goodbye and gave you her number before you took a very drunk Kate Bishop home. Since then you had seen the redhead multiple times over the course of the last few weeks. Neither of you seemed to be able to keep your hands off of each other. Each time you met it was for sex, and even the time she had taken you to dinner it ended with you getting fucked into her mattress again.
You knew the basics about each other, where you lived, eachothers jobs... the more you thought about it the more it upset you. The physical level the two of you were on was heavenly, but really, well, you barely knew her.
Kates voice interrupts your thoughts as you enter the English building, and you stop walking as she does.
"What was that?" You ask, looking to the smirk plastered on her face with curiosity.
"I said, speak of the devil," she chuckles and nods her head in the direction of a very tall Natasha striding your way. "See you in there," Kate says and walks into the classroom, leaving you in the hallway.
You want to drown in the sight of her, wearing dark jeans and a white t-shirt with old, dirty vans on her feet. You smile, trying not to drool at the way you can see the pops of color show from underneath her shirt or the way the sleeves seem too tight against her biceps as she grips the strap of her backpack.
"Hey there..." Natasha greets you with a smile, head pointing down as she stills before you. "Been a few days, haven't heard from you," she adds, her eyes baring into yours. You want to slap yourself for not replying to her text by the almost hurt look in her eyes.
"Well it hasn't even been a week, you miss me already?" You ask her with a little tilt of your head up at her, biting your lip as you see a blush spread across her cheeks. Her hand moves to the side of her neck, scratching at the ink awkwardly.
"No, no. Wait, I mean -" She lets out a sigh and shakes her head as you giggle at her. It was interesting, the difference in her appearance verses this nervous demeanor. "Maybe I did?" Natasha raises an eyebrow, the silver ring lifting higher.
"I might have missed you too," you shrug casually and watch as her face eases back into a smile. "I'm sorry I haven't texted, I've just been so busy with school and work." You point to the classroom next to you that Kate had entered. She follows the direction and nods.
"No worries, you're a busy lady. I actually took Mr. Furys class last year. Maybe I could take you for a coffee and give you some tips? Or maybe just um, talk?" Natasha asks, her tone quiet as she looks down to you.
You smile at the sincerity in her eyes. "I'm free after this class?" You take a step back, towards the room and match the wide smile on her lips.
"Sounds perfect," Natasha nods, and you can't ignore the way your heart speeds up in your chest. Instead of taking another step away you walk forward, leaning up on your tip toes to press a soft kiss to her cheek.
Natasha can feel the burn on her cheeks, the affect you had on her drove her wild. You lean back and smile at her flustered state, leaving her alone in the now empty hallway.
An hour and a half later, you emerge from the classroom, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering around at the sight of Natasha sitting on the floor. She had a book in her hand, closing it the moment she saw you and Kate walking towards her.
"Have you been sitting there this whole time?" You ask and tilt your head, watching the way her muscles flex as she runs a hand through her auburn hair.
"Uh, maybe?" A small blush hints on her cheeks, and she smiles at you and your friend. "I'm Natasha, by the way," she says and holds out her hand in front of Kate.
Kate chuckles at the formality, and you hit her arm, giving her a look. She shakes Natashas hand, "Kate... nice to finally meet you," She smiles back and looks next to her at you. "I'll see you tomorrow night, you should invite your friend."
You roll your eyes at Kates tease but nod and tell her you'll see her later.
"Coffee?" Natasha asks, and the ridiculous grin on her face is enough for you to agree to just about anything.
As you walk side by side, you can't help but admire her gentle personality. This woman, covered in tattoos and piercings with an intimidating gaze, was the complete opposite. She spoke to you about her schedule and that she was in school for sports medicine with a glint in her eyes.
"Like physical therapy?" You ask her curiously. You watched the way her face lit up at your interest, and she beamed down to you.
"Yeah, exactly that. If all else fails, I'll just be a personal trainer," she lets out a small chuckle, and you take the second she holds the door open for you to admire her toned body.
"How do I sign up? I need a good workout partner," you say with a flirtatious tone, brushing against her as you walk inside. You relish the blush on her cheeks and the small smirk on her lips as the smell of fresh coffee hits you.
"Didn't get a good enough workout last week?" Natasha replies.
"Oh, I had a great workout... but if I had a personal trainer, I'm sure I could get a good workout in at least a few times a week. Isn't that recommended?" You look up to her, seeing her neck redden and her eyes darken.
"I would definitely recommend that," Natasha mumbles as the two of you walk up to the counter.
As Natasha orders, you can't help but notice the change in her posture and attitude. Suddenly, she was standing straight, an impassive and series look on her face. Her tone was low as she talked to the woman at the counter. Natasha turns to you and nods for you to order. You do, and as she hands the woman her card, you smile up at her.
"Thank you for getting this for me," you say gratefully, watching her melt under your gaze. The smile was back, and her eyes came to life again. It seemed she had a soft spot for you.
"Of course, it's my treat," she says and walks you to a small table in the corner.
From there, you spend the entire rest of the evening actually talking and getting to know Natasha. As you already knew, she works out religiously, and you told her how lucky you felt that she had skipped her workout today just to sit down with you. She got her first tattoo at 18 and loved it, so she just never stopped getting them. The first piercing she got was on her eyebrow, and the same there, she just kept going.
It felt as if you were sitting in front of a whole new person than the one you met just weeks ago. The one who pile drived you into the mattress at a party and left you weak in the legs and sore the next day. Natasha was kind and sweet, funny, and surprisingly shy. Any time you made an attempt to flirt or give an innuendo, she would chuckle shyly and blush the slightest.
There were a few times you even had to squeeze your thighs as you thought back to that night. Any time her tongue would wet her lower lip or her eyes would travel to your neck. She loved your neck, you noticed. Every time you had hooked up her lips would go straight for the skin there, nipping at the few small freckles that adorned the area.
"That's a long time to be friends with someone," Natasha states as you finish telling her about yours and Kates relationship. Best friends since the fourth grade, completely inseparable.
"It's nice to have someone so close, who knows me so well. Especially since I'm an only child," you reply and watch her brow lift.
"Oh really? I have a sister, Yelena. She bugs the hell out of me, but I love her to death. She goes to the college just a couple of hours from here. Actually," Natasha looks at her phone, checking the time. "I'm supposed to meet her soon... she came home for the weekend."
You nod slowly and look around, realizing everyone had left and the two baristas were cleaning up. As the two of you stand, Natasha suddenly towering over at you, you feel a little disappointment in your chest. You were having more fun with her than you thought, and you found yourself not wanting to part.
"Hey, Kate and I are going to this bar tomorrow night. A few of our friends are getting together. Joes?" You say to her, smiling to yourself as she once again holds the door open for you.
"Yeah, I've been there a few times before," Natasha says with a grin, standing outside the coffee shop with you.
"If you want, maybe you and Yelena can meet us? You don't have to, of course, but..." You trail off.
"I will definitely be there. Text me a time?" She asks, and you nod happily. Natasha leans down, and you think for a second she's going to kiss you, but her lips land on the soft skin of your cheek. You put your hand on her arm as she does, feeling the tattooed skin burn underneath your touch.
****
Joes Bar is crowded, but that's to be expected on a Saturday night near a college campus. A local alternative band plays loudly on the small stage on one side of the room, and you find yourself on the opposite side sitting at the bar. Kate is nearby talking to friends and a few strangers, but you only had one person in mind.
You glance at your phone again, seeing no notifications. With a sigh, you finish your second drink, ordering a third as you contemplated the possibility she wasn't going to show up. This is why you didn't do this type of thing. You don't hook up with hot strangers. You don't get coffee with gorgeous, sweet women. You stayed to yourself, guarded your heart, and let yourself be safe from any type of rejection or heartbreak.
But God Natasha was worth breaking your rules.
You found your way back to reality as the bartender handed you a drink and said thank you before grabbing it and removing yourself from the bar stool. As you turn, you bump into someone, almost spilling your drink on them.
"Oh shit I'm so sorry!" You apologize, shaking the liquor off your hand as you had spilled a little on yourself.
"It's okay, I was just trying to squeeze in next to you," the woman says, and in your tipsy state, you raise an eyebrow. She seemed about your age, dirty blonde hair, and a familiar grin on her lips. You definitely hadn't seen her in here before.
"I was just getting up, actually. You can have my seat. Is that an accent I hear?" You ask curiously, moving out of the way so she could take your place.
"Yeah, I still have a bit of an accent, I was born in Russia. Lived there for a while," she says and nods. She then orders two drinks before turning back to you.
"Wow, you're a long way from there. You go to school here?" You ask her and sip your drink, feeling Kate stand behind you.
"No, but my sister does, though," the blonde smiles and grabs the two bottles of beer from the bartender. She looks at you and extends her arm towards Kate to hand her a bottle. You give her a confused look.
It's only then you realize, as an inked hand reaches over you to take the beer, that it's not Kate standing there, but Natasha. You turn instantly and look up, a habit your neck was quickly getting used to doing.
"Well, well, look who showed up," you say and take your bottom lip between your teeth. Natasha smiles at your words, noticing the way you take in her appearance.
If it was possible, Natasha looked hotter than ever. She wore a black t shirt underneath a leather jacket. Her flaming hair was behind her in a braid with a few loose strands framing her face.
"I see you've met my sister, Yelena," Natasha chuckles and nods in the direction of the blonde woman.
"Nice to meet you, Y/N. Natty here hasn't been able to shut up abou-" Yelena is cut off by Natasha flicking the bottle cap at her face, a stern expression on the older woman's face.
You smile at the siblings' banter, watching Yelena laugh and shrug innocently. Whether it be the alcohol flowing in your bloodstream or the way Natasha looked at you, you slide your hand into hers. She tenses at first, not used to the public display of affection from you, but quickly relaxes as you intertwine your fingers with hers.
"Come on, come meet everyone," you say and tug on her hand in the direction of Kate.
You find them huddled around a pool table, watching as Kate lines up the pool tip to the cue ball with one eye closed. Carol stands leaning against her own stick, shaking her head and putting out the cigarette she smokes into the ashtray on the edge of the table.
"Anyday, Bishop..." Carol groans, earning a laugh from the group.
"Seriously, how long are you going to take?" Peter chimes in.
Kate ignores them and continues to stare intensely at the 8 ball. Her arm begins to pull back to take the shot, but as Yelena comes into focus on the opposite side of the table, Kate is finally distracted by the beautiful blonde. The cue ball misses her target completely, rolling across the table and sinking into the pocket.
"Scratch!" Carol cheers and high fives Monica. Kate looked up at Yelena, her lips parted as if she was going to speak, but no words came out. Carol then steps up to the table and sinks the 8 ball, ending the game with a dramatic bow.
You smile at the group, raising an eyebrow at the silent state of your best friend. "Guys, this is Natasha and her sister Yelena," you say, receiving waves and friendly greetings from everyone. You introduce them to the Romanoffs a little more before they rack up for another game.
"You any good?" Carol nods to Natasha, who gives a humble shrug.
"I'm decent," she replies with a smirk on her face as she brings the bottle to her lips. Carol hands the pool stick over before going to get drinks for the group.
"Hope you're good, Romanoff. We still haven't beat Y/N," Peter says begrudgingly. You only hum in response as Kate hands you her stick, positioning yourself across the table.
"Is that so?" Natasha watches with playful eyes as you skillfully break, the balls rolling in different directions along the table and a few of them sinking into the pockets.
When you lean up, you smile and reach your hand up to pat her cheek. "Good thing you didn't bet anything," you chuckle.
After a few back and forth turns, Carol returns with shots, to which you all cheer and take at the same time. The alcohol was definitely settling its way into your system now, and you were hot to the touch each time Natasha had to lean down to take her shot. Between the focused look on her face and the way the pool stick slid between her fingers, it was enough for you to want her right there.
You step forward next to her, looking at the direction of the shot she was trying to take. "That's a tough one, baby," you say to her, the term of endearment catching Natasha off guard.
Her body visibly tenses as she looks to you with a visceral reaction and swallows hard. You feign an innocent smile, taking a mental note to call her that again just to see her reaction. Natasha misses the shot and curses under her breath.
"That's not fair," she says and shakes her head as she stands tall. The red head removes her jacket, finding that the room was getting hotter.
You shrug and easily pocket two more balls on your turn. When you look to Kate to make a comment about the shot, you realize she's strayed from the group, chatting up Yelena. With your friends being in their own worlds at the moment, you decide to have a little fun with Natasha.
"You're not so bad, you know. The others have a hard time keeping up with me," you smile as she leans down, and your hand rests on her back, rubbing over her shirt.
"Y/n," Natasha mumbles, the blush on her cheeks evident she enjoyed your touch.
"Yes, Nat?" You pur, watching the muscles flex understand the fabric. Knowing you had this type of effect on her gave you a sense of power that only made you hungry for more. Your hand slithers underneath the bottom of her shirt, nails scratching at her back. She misses. You smile.
"You're a cheater, you know that?" Natasha says in a playful tone, her body naturally leaning towards you.
Your hands rest on her stomach, "I don't know what you're talking about." You lean up and plant a soft kiss on her lips, smirking as she leans down and melts against your mouth. "I'm just having fun," you whisper.
At that, you step away from her, crossing over to the opposite side of the table. You lean down more than you need to, and you don't miss the way Natashas eyes dart back and forth from your breasts to your neck. She finishes another bottle, and you can tell you've stressed her out by the way her hand grips the glass.
You continue to do the same thing for the remainder of the game, teasing her with every shot she took and making sure to bend in front of her any chance you could. It came down to the 8 ball, and you had to admit, you were dragging the game on longer than you needed to.
"Last one," you sigh and put your hand on the back of her neck as she leans down. Your fingers squeeze gently as she clears her throat, trying to ignore the shivers that run down her spine every time you touch her. You lean down with her, your lips brushing against her ear. "Good luck, baby," you whisper and kiss her cheek.
Her neck gets red at your words, and her grip on the stick only tightens. You think it'll snap in half with how hard she holds it. Natasha quickly shoots and misses, causing you to raise an eyebrow with just how quick she took the shot. Instead of stepping back, she continues to stand pressed against the table. "All yours," she mumbles and holds her hand out to the table, shifting uncomfortably as she stands.
You line up the shot and sink the black ball easily, looking up at her with a wide smile. She only gives you a small smile back with a nod. "Aren't you going to give me a victory kiss?" You ask as you step back to her.
Natasha hesitates for a moment but finally turns to face you. Your hands move up to wrap around her neck, your body pressing against her front as she leans in. Before your lips can touch your eyes, widen the slightest. You now realize the reason for the sudden uncomfortable physical shift she had taken when you felt her bulge pressing hard against you.
"Oh... was I teasing you too much?" You ask with a smirk on your lips. She rolls her eyes and moves to pull away, but you don't let her. "What was it?" You ask her.
"What was what?" She replies, her hands moving to your waist. You press your body further into her and relish the hiss that leaves her mouth.
You search her eyes, thinking to the moment her demeanor had changed. Suddenly, there was that power-hungry feeling again when you realized the reasoning. The fact that you could get her hot and bothered by a simple word leaving your lips, by your voice alone, and the thought of you driving someone like her mad. Natasha was weak in the knees for you, and she struggled internally with the way you made her feel. She wasn't used to it.
"Why don't you let me help you take care of your little problem... baby, " you whisper to her, feeling her shoulders tense above you. "Come on." You slide back and take her hand in yours, leading her away from the pool table and towards the bathroom.
As soon as both of you are inside and you lock the door, the two of you are on top of each other just like the first night you met her. Natasha kisses you feverishly, like she'd never been kissed before, with your back hard against the door. You welcomed her tongue into your mouth, moaning as the two halves wrap around your own.
With one hand, you hold onto the front of her shirt, gripping tightly, with the other you slide it in between your bodies, letting yourself grope the hard bulge in her jeans. Natasha lets a hint of a whimper leave her lips, one you hadn't heard since the first time with her, and you smirk into the kiss.
"What's the matter, baby? Do you need some help?" You ask innocently, lips ghosting hers. She breathes heavily and nods as your hands move to undo her belt.
"Sweetheart... please," she says, and you decide in that moment that you need her to say that again. Just the idea that this strong, formidable woman could so easily melt in your presence made you thrilled.
Her hands rest on either side above your head, pressed flat against the door as you slide her pants down. You can see the precum dampening a spot on her underwear, and you feel yourself get wet at the sight of it. She needed you, bad.
"Please, what?" You ask, your hand moves to grab her through her boxers, and you stroke her length through the thin fabric.
"Fu-fuck," she barely breathes out, eyes searching yours. Natasha hadn't begged a day in her life, but she would happily beg for you. She was at the point right now that she was willing to get down on her knees and beg for you. You made her desperate.
"Please touch me, please. You feel how hard I am for you? Just -" You squeezing a little harder makes her gasp before continuing. "I need you to touch me. Please, sweetheart... please, " she begs. You smile at her words, enjoying the way her body melts at your touch and the way she begs for you.
At her words you slide down her boxers, and her cock twitches at the feeling of finally being released. She lets out a sigh of relief as your delicate fingers wrap around her. "Is this what you wanted?" You hum, beginning to move your hand up and down. Natasha nods, chest beginning to rise and fall rapidly at your movements.
When you stop, she looks at you with a disoriented look, eyebrows lifting as she watches you drop to your knees. You take her cock in your hand, letting your other rest on her thick, toned thigh. From here you can see her happy trail peaking from underneath her shirt, making your panties wetter. The way she looks down at you with a breathless expression and parted lips makes you want to live your life on your knees for her. Your lips kiss along the side of her length, teasing slowly with your tongue licking up it. Natasha groans with pleasure at the feeling and her hips instinctively buck towards you.
You give in, not wanting to tease her anymore tonight, and take her cock into your mouth. The moan that leaves her mouth is outright sinful, and her fist hits the door with a thud as you begin to bob your head. Your cheeks hollow out when you begin moving faster, taking as much of her as you could. When the tip hits the back of your throat your eyes sting, tears threatening to leave your ducts. Natasha pants heavily above you, savoring the moment of you on your knees for her, sucking her off.
"Look at you, such a pretty girl with my cock in your mouth- fuck," Natasha speaks low to you, her eyes dark as she watches her cock disappear against your lips. Your fingers on her thigh dig in, your nails digging into her skin to leave crescent shaped marks, at her words. "All night you've been teasing me... this is the only way to shut you up, isn't it?" She says and you moan against her, the vibrations sending her close to the edge.
Her breathing gets heavier and you can tell she's about to cum, but before she can you quickly remove your mouth, your saliva coating her as you release with a pop. You stand, not ignoring the frustrated look on her face.
"Baby, I think you're confused," you say, your hands moving to the top of your dress. "You're not in charge right now," You let out a small laugh and pull down on the fabric, letting your breasts spill out. Natashas face reddens in response, and she immediately moves to kiss your chest. You can feel the marks she leaves as her lips trail across your breasts, her skillful tongue pleasuring your sensitive nipples.
Natashas' large hands move to the bottom of your dress as her kisses begin to litter up your neck. You let her move the material above and over your hips, but stop her as she reaches your panties. "I wanna hear you," you mumble out. She lets out a huff and pulls away from your neck.
"Y/n... please." Natasha says. You only continue to look at her with innocent eyes. The fact that she would beg for you - is begging for you, made you feel instant gratification.
"Please, pretty girl? Please let me make you feel good. I want to fuck you, want to make you feel good so bad..." She begs, and you let her slide your panties down your legs. Natasha slides her tip between your closed thighs, her cock now being coated from the wetness that spread between your legs.
She slips in between your folds, waiting for your words. Her fingers dig into your hips. "You drive me so fucking insane," Natasha whispers as her head ducks to your neck again. "I could cum from just looking at you. Just hearing you say my name. You know how much control you have over me?" Her hips continue rocking against you, your thighs squeezing her hard cock. She begins to pant again, her neck red and hot to the touch as you wrap your arms around it, interlocking your fingers behind her head.
"Please," Natasha whimpers, and the sound is enough to make you moan. You needed to feel her inside you immediately, hear more of those moans leave her lips.
"Show me how bad you want me, how insane I make you feel," you finally say and lean forward to bite her lower lip. She wastes no time lifting you up, helping you wrap your legs around her hips. Your back presses against the door again and with one hand she guides her cock inside of your warm velvet walls, easily ,with how wet you were for her.
Natasha begins to thrust up into you, a feeling you had become accustomed to these past few weeks, although you weren't sure you'd ever get used to her size. She groans against your chest, nipping at the skin. The small bathroom fills with the sounds of her pounding into you, both of you moaning practically in sync with every thrust.
"So good, pretty girl, feel so good wrapped around my cock. I love fucking this pretty pussy," she breathes heavy against your skin as she speaks. You hold on tightly to her, only breathless moans escape your lips in response.
Suddenly, from the outside, someone bangs on the door, Natasha doesn't halt her descent on you. "Can you hurry the fuck up in there?" A stranger yells from the other side. Your eyes widen, a little bit of adrenaline rushing into your chest as she continues fucking into you.
Natasha smiles, now at your flustered state. "Occupied," is all she replies before her thrust picks up the pace. "You better keep quiet, sweetheart. You don't want everyone to know how much of a slut you are for me, letting me fuck you in the bathroom."
You squeeze your eyes closed as she fucks herself into you, trying your best to keep quiet. Each thrust was now hitting that special spot inside of you and drawing you closer to an orgasm. The feeling of her muscles flexing around you only intensified that feeling.
"Fuck I-I can't I'm-" Natasha stutters out as she groans into your neck, feeling your hot cunt tighten around her cock.
"Me too, Nat," you moan along with her, and your legs squeeze around her waist. "Let go, baby... wanna feel you fill me up." You watch her face twist in pleasure at your words, and the fact that it was enough to make her cum only added to your ego in the moment. Natasha grunts against your skin as she does just what you say, filling you up completely.
The sensation alone is enough to make you follow right behind her, the burn in your lower stomach blazing as you scream out her name.
"That's it, sweetheart, that's it... such a good girl for me," she coos as you fall apart in her arms, kissing your face as you breathe heavily. Your head falls against her shoulder, face panting in the crook of her neck as she holds you tightly, letting you come down off your high.
After a few moments she pulls out slowly, and you can feel the mixture of both your arousal dripping down your thighs. Natasha carries you to the sink, letting you rest on the hard surface while she pulls her pants back up and you fix the top of your dress.
"Hi," she says with a smile. You giggle, remembering she said the same thing afterward on the first night at her party.
"Hi," is all you reply, grabbing her shirt in your hand and pulling her closer to kiss you again.
****
"They have eight legs and eight eyes. How are they not scary?" Peter drunkenly speaks to Monica, who sits next to him with an amused look.
After your time in the bathroom with Natasha, the two of you had rejoined the group, and over the course of two hours, you had become increasingly wasted with the rest of your friends. As Yelena joined in on the topic of spiders, you feel Natasha rest her head back against your front.
She sat slouched back in one of the chairs that scattered near the table while you stood behind her, hands stroking her neck and massaging her shoulders. You can't help but smile down at her.
"You're so cute," you giggle and watch her brow raise. Your finger traces the dark lines on her neck.
"Anything but cute," Natasha groans, with a playful smirk on her face. "Why do you say that?"
"You're different than you look, you know? Why are you so nervous around me?" Your words slur, and she chuckles at your drunken state with a shrug, looking at the beer bottle she held in her hand.
"Must be the alcohol?" She says. You shake your head and poke her nose.
"You were drinking when I first met you, and you weren't like this," you point out and watch her swallow. You decide to move in front of her, settling yourself between her muscled thighs. As you stand in front of her, she sits up straighter, the two of you now practically the same height.
You take her hand in yours, playing with her fingers. She smiles a little as she looks at your intertwined hands.
"Maybe I was drinking that night to get enough courage to talk to you... and maybe I- maybe I'm drinking tonight to get enough courage to say I want more with you. More than... the hookups," she says and finally looks back up at you. Your heart races in your chest at her words, panic written on your face as you freeze in front of her.
That was exactly what you wanted. More of her, more of this beautiful person who was even more beautiful inside. To get to know what makes her really tick, what makes her happy, how her day was, how she likes her coffee. She wanted more, too, so why were you not speaking out loud?
"What?" Is all that comes out of your mouth.
Natashas face falls completely, misinterpreting your flustered state for a sign of rejection. She had hoped this wouldn't happen. Part of her wondered if this had just been a hook up, but the other part of her desperately hoped it wasn't.
Before the words could leave your parted lips, Kate calls over to you, taking the attention of both you and Natasha.
"Y/N, you ready to go? You can stay if you want, I'm gonna take Pete home, though," she nods to the direction of where he sat drunk rambling to Yelena.
"No, not -"
"Actually, Yelena and I have a lot to do tomorrow. We should head out too," Natasha interrupts you and stands, her hand moving to your lower back as you stare up at her with a pout.
"Are you sure?" You ask her, your hand reaching out to her side. She tenses under your grasp.
"Yeah, I'll text you later," She smiles at you, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes this time.
You nod anyways and smile back, leaning up to kiss her lips softly. "Thank you for tonight.. Hopefully, we can do it again soon?"
And while you were talking about hanging out with her, Natasha assumes you were talking about her fucking you.
"Yeah, soon," she lets out a breath and grabs her jacket, not taking a second look back at you as her and Yelena exit the bar.
***
A smile fills your face as your head hits the pillow, the soft comforter pulled over you as you lie on your warm bed and mull over tonights events. You wondered why Natasha had left in such a hurry before you could say anything, but you decided not to think too hard on it. She probably did have to go. It was early in the morning by the time you left, and besides, you would hear from her later.
Every morning, she texted you a quick and sweet text, telling you to have a good day.
Your chest swelled at the thought of it, how sweet it was that such a small, simple thing could brighten your entire day. What you assumed would happen tomorrow is that the two of you would talk about wanting more and how desperately you agreed with her about it.
But when the late morning came and the sunshine streamed through the windows, no text came with it.
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l13 · 10 months
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spiderverse twt links part 2
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WARNINGS : NSFW, 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI, f!reader, the links are literally p#rn, proceed at your own risk
CHARACTERS: miguel o'hara, peter b parker, hobie brown, the spot, spider noir, webslinger
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miguel
♡ miguel playing with your pussy as he sucks on your tits- getting you ready to take his cock, like the good girl you are<3
♡ this is for that one anon that sent me a hc about miguel getting pissed af if he caught you using one of your toys- ((I SAW IT AND IT WAS AMAZING I'VE WROTE SMTH BUT IT'S BEEN ON MY DRAFTS FOR LIKE A WEEK i can't seem to like it no matter how much i edit it but have this<333)) Miguel who then proceeds to snatch the toy from your grasp, muttering how you can't even come even with that. "S good right? Better than me?" "Noo, never- never better than you- oh please baby-" "That's fucking right."
bonus
♡ miguel punishing you when you arrive home after you talking shit all day- purposefully disagreeing on anything he says- even in mission briefs. makes sure to fuck you stupid just to remind you not to pull that shit again<3 "Acting like such a fucking bitch all day- fuck. Just needed my cock that bad, huh? Say it,"
peter
♡ peter whimpering pathetically once he starts cumming- moaning when you don't stop jerking his cock, and he's thrashing around, hips never stopping their little jumps as he whines prettily "I can't anymore- h please ffuckkkk, I ca-aan't," voice cracking as he sobs for you
♡ pussydrunk!peter that starts fucking you like an absolute madman, literally not able to stop thrusting inside of you even after he's cum two times already, his eyes are hazy, can barely focus on anything but he still grabs you by the hair to pull you against him almost harshly, panting hard as he somehow keeps fucking his cock back inside your drenched pussy
♡ peter laying flush against your back, humping you, thrusting his cock inside you till he's crying with you- whimpering and moaning from the way your pretty pussy feels around his cock
hobie
♡ hobie definitely wakes you up in the middle of the night if he can't sleep- pulls your panties to the side and makes you ride him, watching with a hand behind his head as you bounce your ass on his cock- thrusting his hips up to meet the rolls of your hips as he sighs, "Fuck- think I'll be wakin' you up every God damn night, baby.." "Yeah do it- fuckin' make me cum-"
♡ hobie losing his FUCKING mind when he sees you hold your folds open for him- giving him the perfect view of his cock entering your pussy again and again-
♡ no bccc. NO BECAUSEEEEEEE. tell me why he'd do this. he'd def dry hump you till you're both moaning against each other's mouths before he'd fuck you, refusing to remove his underwear from before- saying he likes looking at them all stained with your juices as you bounce up and down his cock<3
spider noir
♡ tw!!!somno noir loving seeing you wear tights/stockings, and absolutely loses his mind when he sees you laying like that on the couch- skirt bundled up on the floor, you'd probably taken it off right before laying down, and fuck- it's so fucked up that he's doing this but he can't help himself as he takes his cock out, slapping it against your ass two-three times before he starts jerking it, slowly, "So pretty for me honey.. 'nd you don't even know it," "Fuck- sorry- I'm sorry- I can't stop, can't fuckin' stop-"
♡ noir letting you control the pace for once as he leans back, supporting his weight with his palms on the mattress as you bounce your ass on his cock vigorously- and he's grunting, muttering praises, until he gets greedy and grabs you by the hips to thrust inside you with a new-found passion, "Did so well for me, such a good girl- unh-" "I'll fuck you so well, don't you worry-" "Won't be able to fuckin' walk tomorrow, honey."
♡ feel like noir would be used to more 'old fashioned' shit so when he met you, he'd become 10x times more freaky- that includes cumming on your face 🤭 he'd be reluctant at first- "Why waste it? You're tellin' me you don't want it in your pussy, hm?" but then he actually does it one time and becomes OBSESSED, "God fucking- I'm gonna cum-" "Where d'you want it sweetie," "Yeah? Ffuck yes- gonna paint your pretty face with my cum-"
the spot
♡ we've established that spot is a certified pussy eater, even without a mouth he'd find a fucking way- he'd just push your cunt into his face hole, and lap at your pussy greedily- moaning as he did so
♡ tw!! pegging jonathon? OH MY GODDDDDDDD and he's moaning so good for you too<3
♡ spot unable to stop pushing his hips back into your hand as you finger one of his holes- the feeling bringing tears into his eyes as he cries out for you<33
♡ him nearly YELLING when he comes inside you- moaning loudly as he pumps you full of his cum<3
webslinger
♡ tw!! breeding kink "Legs up f'me darlin'.... just like that," thrusts into you relentlessly, head thrown back as he literally cannot handle how good your pussy feels around his cock, and he grunts as he pulls out, jerking his cock, his hand shaking, "Can't cum inside you huh, pretty? Can't get you pregnant- not yet-"
♡ him finally slipping and coming inside you- moaning with his eyes rolled back as he feels your cunt sucking him in- "Ah shit- m sorry darlin' I couldn't hold m'self back.."
♡ him pounding you from the back and then suddenly deciding that he wants to watch you ride him instead- (save a horse, ride a cowboy), absolutely looooves watching your face contort in pleasure, your tits bouncing as you guide yourself up and down his cock<3
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hyypnotix-writes · 7 months
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Part 3
~ howdy! it's here ..I don't fully know how I feel about it, I might keep editing it at another point, but I've taken the piss with keeping you waiting for so long, I just want you to have something ~
~ it's long - I thought the other two were bad enough but this is longer than both of them combined. it's 26k words so I'm very sorry, and I do understand if that's too much for any of you ~
~ I don't know how to break it up to make it easier, or more fun, for you to read. I hope it doesn't put all of you off, but unless you're an incredibly quick reader ..you will probably have to read this one when you genuinely have nothing else to do ~
~ I'm not sure how well this chapter will go down, this could well be the end of our little journey together ~
~ I've had a lot of fun writing for all of you if it is, despite me stressing myself out with it! you've all been very kind and lovely, and however you've enjoyed any part of my writing, I've really appreciated every interaction ~
~ whether you liked, reblogged, or sent me a little message - every single one of you has made me smile, so I really hope this doesn't disappoint any of you too much! ~
~ good luck! good bye xx ~
Part 1 Part 2
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Rain is absolutely not what you signed up for when you agreed to come to Barcelona with your sister. Travelling all the way to sunny Spain, and bringing the bloody British weather with you as you go? What a horrible little joke.  
You’re not going to be the sun-kissed envy of your friends if it stays like this, you’ll be going back to London even paler than you were when you left it.  
The rainfall dribbles down the outside of the window, opposite where you rest your forehead, and a mournful sigh escapes your lips as you look out at the abysmal sight of the city streets down below. You draw a smiley face with your finger, where your breath fogged up the glass, and you try to mirror the expression on your own face as you extract yourself from the pane and flop back down onto the bed with a very dramatic groan.  
It’s already been one of the longest mornings of your life, and it’s only just turned 10:00.  
Sleep eluded you once again last night. Every hour, on the hour, you watched the clock tick over. Seconds suspending themselves in the air, minutes moving like molasses, as you counted infinite sheep in your head. Time flies when you’re having fun, as they say, but boy does it drag its heels when you’re praying for it to soar.  
Despite your fun little belief that you might’ve finally been sleeping soundly last night, it didn’t actually come to fruition. It turns out that it’s quite difficult for someone to fall asleep after finding out that the woman they’re falling for has secretly been a famous sporting icon the whole time that they’ve known her. Who’d have thought? 
It’s still a little hard for you to wrap your head around. The fact that she’s a bit famous, and her celebrity status stems from football of all things. Even with detective skills as exceptional as yours, that possibility never crossed your mind.  
Exhaustion is starting to plague your body after so many restless nights, and the antisocial behaviour you’re demonstrating because of it, isn’t largely appreciated by your sister. Abandoning Em to go and have breakfast on your own, before she had chance to wake up and join you, wasn’t a deliberate act of cruelty from you, you genuinely thought you were doing her a favour by letting her have a lie in.  
You are on holiday together, though, so she didn’t fully enjoy waking up alone in your shared hotel room. She made that much abundantly clear to you, with the countless strongly worded text messages that you received as you awkwardly traipsed back upstairs to apologise to her.  
A silent and forceful barging into your shoulder was all that greeted you, as you returned to the room and she made her exit from it.  
It’s unfortunate. She’s in a pissy mood, the weather’s in a pissy state, and you have to go to a pissing football match later on this evening. What a cruel world it is that you’re living in.  
It’s very unnatural that your one saving grace of the day is the pissing football match that you have to attend. That being one of the highlights of your holiday, really won’t make much sense at all to any of your friends when you tell them about it.  
You stare longingly at your phone for a while, tapping your fingers over your torso as you wait for Em’s return from breakfast. You let out a soft sigh as you gaze up at the ceiling, before gently closing your eyes, in the futile hopes of having a quick nap. The darkness behind your eyelids allows your mind to wander all too freely. Which it very quickly does, to more thoughts of Alexia. The same way that it has done, since the very first moment that she so casually waltzed into your life.  
This morning, however, it’s not thoughts of confusion, that cloud your brain. Sexuality concerns and hopeless pining are far from the forefront of your mind. It’s excitement that envelops you, anticipation. The fact that you’ve found your impossible-to-find woman, and that she’s no longer impossible for you to find at all. She may very well be one of the easiest people to locate, in all of Barcelona, as it happens. Knowing that you get to see her, at least one more time again this evening, even if it’s only from a distance, is a promise that has an involuntary smile tugging at the corners of your lips, and your heart doing cartwheels inside of your chest.  
There’s the distinct feeling of potential that hangs in the air for tonight. You can’t pretend that you’re not feeling hopeful about seeing her a little bit more up-close-and-personal than just from your seat in the stands. You’d quite like to be able to congratulate her, if the scoreline goes in her favour.  
You pull the neck of Alexia’s sweatshirt up over your face, in an attempt to fully bring the possibilities to life in the playground of your imagination, and you let out another sigh as you rest your hand over your stomach.  
It really doesn’t smell enough like her anymore, but it still your favourite item of clothing, as it is still very much hers. It’s the most effective key for unlocking your memories with her, and you breathe it in deeply, as you let your thoughts of her consume you.  
You really are feeling desperately needy, you’ve already been in this position once this morning.  
It’s not a hunger that’s ever infiltrated your body and mind quite so fervidly. You’re not a particularly clingy person, you’re not usually so obsessive, or lustful. You’re certainly hot-blooded, and you know how to enjoy yourself, but there’s never normally this type of craving in you for another person.  
Having your mind be so fanatical about someone else really isn’t something that’s ever overcome you quite so powerfully. It’s a rare sort of desire in you, that only she’s been able to spark, and it’s proving very difficult to satiate it.  
Your hand wanders slightly, as she takes over your head, the tips of your fingers trailing the waistband of your shorts, before the excessively loud opening and closing of the hotel room door, abruptly halts you from getting too invested in your fantasies.  
You turn your attention to your sister, removing your fingers with an unfortunate twang, as the elastic hits back down your skin, and you slowly free your face as she obliviously trudges across the room.  
You offer up an apologetic smile for abandoning her earlier, as she places her coffee on the table, and, with a piece of toast dangling from her mouth, she smiles back at you, the power of a full stomach seemingly diluting her previous feelings of anger.  
Her smile quickly contorts into a mischievous little grin, and there’s a glint in her eye, as she pounces on the bed.  
“Are you good?” You chuckle, as she rummages next to you, but she doesn’t gift you with any verbal reply. It’s your phone that she’s interested in, you realise, and you hold out your hand, for her to return it to you. “Behave.” You warn her, but she only giggles at the unlocked screen and shakes her head at you.  
“Do you have a new girl crush?” She mocks, goading you as she waves the device in front of your face. “Big into Alexia Putellas, are we?” 
“I was just ..familiarising myself.” You tell her, shuffling yourself a little, as a soft pink hue rushes to your cheeks.  
“Is that what you’re calling it?” She scoffs. “You know, I also tend to search for someone’s back tattoos when I’m trying to memorise their face!” 
“I was— I ..can I have my phone back, please?” You sigh, giving up on any attempt at trying to defend yourself.  
You don’t need to defend yourself to her. You like Alexia’s tattoos, and simply wanting to see them again, is merely an appreciation of art. That’s entirely innocent enough. It wasn’t a perverse search; it didn’t come from a sinful place.  
The fact that it immediately triggered flashbacks to you tracing over all of them with your lips, really wasn’t exactly your fault. It was unintentional, an almost reflex response from you.  
Letting yourself get mildly carried away with remembering how Alexia had kissed along your own body and how her lips had this wonderfully curious tendency of just always roaming down. The little knot that tied itself in your stomach, and your breath hitching as you relived the eye contact that she made with you before she had your back arching under her.  
That’s all a little less innocent, maybe, but it still wasn’t deliberate. It couldn’t be helped; it was just an automatic reimagining of events.  
You’re allowed to do that, they’re your memories. It’s entirely permissible for you to take a little journey through them every once in a while. It’s been over a month for you, and you have some overdue frustrations. That’s not a crime, you’re not a pervy creep.  
“You have a real thing for Spanish women at the minute, huh?” Em recognises, pulling you from your dirty thoughts again as she drops your phone down onto your stomach and takes another bite of her breakfast.  
“Mhmm. I quite like her tattoos.” You tell her casually, and she smiles back at you with a raised eyebrow.  
“Whenever you’re ready for me to do your next one, let me know!” 
“Mm.” You mumble, as you feel the ink on your rib cage begin to sear under her stare.  
You really do like tattoos, but there’s a reason that you only have the one on you. Your distinct lack of body art probably doesn’t seem like the greatest advertisement for your sister’s abilities, but it’s your own indecisiveness, and aversion to needles, that’s stopped you from getting too many, not her deficiency of talent. Maybe you’re a little bit squeamish, but it really did hurt.  
“You’re a big baby.” She laughs at you as you rub at the side of your body, trying to relieve the faint burning of your skin, and she claps the remnants of toast crumbs from her hands onto the floor, as she lays next to you. “What do you fancy doing today?” She asks you. “I’m sorry about the shit weather, that’s kinda fucked with your tanning plans.” 
“It’s not really your fault, but I was going to ask for your help, actually. If you’re feeling a little guilty?” 
“Oh?” She turns her head, furrowing her brow at you, her interest piqued, and you let out a sigh as you swallow your pride.  
“I was hoping, maybe you’d help me learn some football things.” 
“Football things?” She scoffs, but you don’t let her mockery deter you, as you nod at her decidedly.  
“Mhmm.” 
The back of Em’s hand very quickly finds itself pressed against your forehead with a quiet little smack, and you scrunch up your face in confusion as she frowns down at you.  
“What on earth are you doing?” 
“Are you feeling okay?” 
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, yes!” You sigh, pushing her arm away from you to stop her from checking your temperature. “I’d just like to know some things. Stop me from going into the match so blind.” 
She narrows her eyes, considering you for a moment. “What do you want to know?” She asks, and you wince at the freedom she’s granted you.  
“Just like ..players’ names, probably? I think that’d be helpful. Maybe some basic rules.” You shrug.  
She continues frowning at you, and you buckle a little under the intensity of her stare.  
“What?” 
“You’ve never cared before..” she reminds you, the suspicion in her eyes only increasing, as you release a small huff through your nose.  
“That’s not really true..” You try to start arguing, but it’s a completely pointless activity, you’re both far too aware that you’re completely lying.
Football has existed for your entire life, and you’ve been interested in it, a grand total, of zero times, before now. You find out that it’s Alexia’s favourite thing to do, and you suddenly want to know everything you can about it. It's entirely tragic of you, and it's too convoluted of a confession to share with your sister right now. She was useless enough when you admitted to a single kiss with another woman, trying to explain all of this mayhem would absolutely break her little brain.
“I’ve definitely cheered with you a couple of times!” You offer and she shakes her head, laughing loudly at you.  
“No no no!” She states. “Quietly saying ‘woo team’ when I tell you someone’s scored, is not cheering with me! I told you Rachel Daly scored once, and you still threw your fist in the air!” 
“What’s wrong with that?” 
“She plays for Aston Villa!” She points out, smacking your shoulder, and you let out another tiny huff. “I could tell you that Emma Hayes had scored, and you wouldn’t question it.” 
“Why would that be weird, is she the goalkeeper?” 
“For fuck’s sake!” She sighs, scraping her hands down over her face. “She’s the manager.” 
Yikes. You really are an idiot.   
“Well.. okay..” you wince, “and that’s why I need your help.”  
“Why does it matter?” She asks. “This’ll be the only match you ever watch.” 
“Maybe, but I quite like the woman who gave me that shirt.” You admit, gazing over at it as you play with the hem of the sweatshirt you’re wearing. “I don’t want to let her down by knowing nothing.” 
“Will she be there today?” 
“Mhmm.” 
Em contemplates for a moment, and you know that look in her eyes, she’s about to cave in. You sit up on the bed, readying yourself to deliver the final blow to her composure.  
“Please?” You say, pouting with a perfectly rehearsed, quivering bottom lip. 
“Nooo! Not the puppy dog eyes.” She groans, averting her gaze from you to try and stay strong. You don’t back down, and she lets out a pathetic cry of defeat when she catches your expression again.  
“There’s not much else for us to do until this rain stops.” You point out innocently.  
“That’s not true! There’s that aquarium you wanted to go to?” 
It’s a valid point from her, but rather incredibly, it’s no longer as appealing an option to you. You want to embrace football today. It’s important to Alexia, and she’s becoming important to you. As such, football ..is also important ..to ..well, no. Let’s not push it. She isn’t your girlfriend; you don’t need to be football’s number one fan just yet. Football will be tolerated by you, until further notice.  
You plead to your sister again, adding a small sniffle after your words for extra impact, and her resolve is positively crumbling in front of you.  
“You’re really serious, you want to learn about football?” 
“Mhmm!” You grin, excitedly crossing your legs, to fully show that you mean business. “Please!” 
“Fine.” She chuckles, rolling her eyes at your childish little excitement.  
“Thank you!” You grab her head to place a kiss to the top of it, and she quickly pushes you off of her. “I’d just like to know enough, though.” You clarify, before she starts getting too carried away with her lesson planning. “Just enough to stop me from looking like a fool.” 
“Well, steady on.” She snorts, with a roll of her eyes as she reaches for her sketch pad from the nightstand. “We’ve only got a day!” 
There’s a lot of information for you to learn it turns out, and you really hope Alexia’s worth all of this relentless studying you’ve subjected yourself to.  
It isn’t just her teammates that you end up memorising. Em also makes sure to teach you some footballing fundamentals, what ‘being offside’ really means, how the Champions League works, and she takes a great twisted pleasure in letting you know that tonight’s game of all games, could go to extra time and penalties, if no side is able to score more sodding goals than the other.  
You’re definitely being tested. 90 minutes is all that you signed up for when you agreed to watch the football, not a possible 120 with the looming threat of a penalty shootout attached to it. It’s entirely far too much. Why the hell is this Alexia’s favourite thing to do? Why are you still so into her? This is unbearable.  
It proves a little hard for you to keep concentrating on all of the facts that your sister keeps throwing at you, but she very quickly realises, that letting you watch some of Alexia’s highlights at irregular intervals, keeps you from getting too bored with everything else.
  
It quite amusing to you, to see Alexia wearing the captain’s armband, if you can believe. This nightclub nuisance, taking on a leadership role? That doesn’t seem right at all.  
Club captain, best on the team, best in the world? Turns out, it’s you that has the impeccable taste in women.  
She’s very sexy in her little football kit and watching her kick a ball around is surprisingly entertaining. She’s also very good, even you can see that, and the fact that she’ll occasionally lift her shirt when she’s a little frustrated with herself? Well, replaying that in slow motion is entirely fine and acceptable.  
There’s no real heterosexual explanation for your enjoyment of it, but you can pretend it’s merely an appreciation of fitness for you to keep pausing all of the videos and zooming in on her body.  
It’s not something that you ask to learn about, but Em can’t help mentioning all of Alexia’s achievements to you. It’s very fun to find out about everything, and there’s a genuine sense of pride in you for all of her plentiful accolades.  
It does feel a little misplaced, perhaps. You probably still don’t know her well enough to be just as proud of her as you are, you’ve certainly not known her long enough to be quite so pleased for her.  
It’s also slightly daunting, maybe, realising how decorated she is. Finding out about her FIFA’s best awards, the World Cup, her consecutive Ballon d’Ors.  
This is a very highly celebrated woman that you’ve been mingling with.   
She’s widely regarded as the greatest women’s player, of all time. It’s not just your sister that’s been saying it, Alexia’s been awarded for it, on the television, in front of the whole world. There’s a mural of her in Barcelona, a viewpoint that’s been named after her, and it turns out, that there’s a fairly huge amount of people that really enjoy calling her La bloody Reina. She’s revered by these people, almost worshipped.  
You’re not letting it get to you too much. Yes, she’s widely adored, she’s won pretty much every single award it’s possible for her to achieve, and she’s only just turned 30. She’s famous and well-loved and you’re just a little nobody from London, but you’re not letting that get to you too much.   
That probably wouldn’t be very wise. That would bring questions into your head, and make you start doubting yourself. That’s not a fun thing for you to do. Why would you do that?   
Don’t do that, you’ll start spiralling. It doesn’t take much to get you overthinking. You spent the past month questioning your sexuality because of one single night with another woman. Don’t let yourself worry about it, that won’t end very well for you. Don’t let her success in her career start clouding who she is to you. She’s still just the confusing lime woman, at the end of the day.   
Don’t start thinking of her as Barcelona’s sweetheart, Alexia Putellas. That’s putting her on a pedestal that you’ll never be able to reach her on up there. That’s very careless of you, to leave her up there on it without you sitting next to her, don’t do that. She’s just a woman. A very beautiful and successful woman. That’s fine, there’s lots of them about. Calm down.  
The rain finally relents a few hours before the big match, and while it doesn’t really grant you a huge amount of time to do anything too adventurous, it is a relief to realise that you won’t be getting completely drenched as you watch Alexia play.  
Em makes a rather hasty escape to the beach, as soon as the sun makes its long-awaited appearance. She hasn’t enjoyed your little study session quite as much as you have. You really just can’t win with this woman. She’s grumpy when you hate football, she’s grumpy when you’re a fan of it. She really just loves being grumpy with everything.  
Your constant refusal to be taught anything about the Chelsea players probably didn’t help you to keep her happy, though. Your insistence that Barcelona is the far superior team, didn’t go down very well with her either. Your new ‘girl crush’ on Alexia Putellas was something she began to find really irritating. You were almost actively trying to wind her up, actually. Maybe you did deserve her abandonment, looking back. You were lucky the rain kept her about for as long as it did.  
She didn’t ask if you wanted to join her at the beach, but you’d have decided to stay where you are anyway. Making sure you really have learnt enough for tonight, is your number one priority at the moment. Quizzing yourself and rewatching a few more compilation videos, is far more important to you than the city around you. The tan you actually came out to Spain for really is taking a hit today, but you can enjoy Barcelona a bit more tomorrow.  
You’re having a small dilemma in the hotel bathroom, as you’re getting yourself ready for the game. It’s an escalating concern for you, and one that your sister is growing increasingly frustrated with you for. You’re going to be late to the match if you don’t start getting a move on.       
Em barges into the bathroom, startling you as you study yourself in the mirror, and you narrow your eyes at her reflection as she stands in the doorway, staring at you.      
“What’s taking you so long?” She asks, with a very clear tone of exasperation.       
“I’m debating.” You tell her thoughtfully, ignoring her choice of intonation completely, by offering her an innocent little smile, as she lets out a very long and loud groan behind you.       
“Of course, you are.” She mutters, and she leans against the doorframe, preparing herself for you to begin your impending little spiel.       
“Right. So, I want to have the whole shirt on display.” You begin, gesturing down the front of your body and tapping your fingers to the lettering across your back.  
“Of course, you do.”      
“Right. So, I’m thinking, hair up,” you explain, demonstrating your vision as you carefully scrape your hair up into a ponytail, before narrowing your eyes at your sister again, to see if she can also see the problem with your plan, “buuut..”     
“Is that a love bite?!” She exclaims, rushing towards you and tugging at your shirt collar to examine the light bruising on your neck.       
“Ex-actly!” You sigh in defeat, letting your hair cascade back down as you grab your makeup bag again, to have another go at concealing the little gift that Alexia left on you yesterday. “I knew I hadn’t done a good enough job with it.”      
“How did you get a love bite?!” She asks, still clearly shocked by your rather tame, levels of promiscuity, as she pushes you away from her in disgust.   
“The usual way.”       
“A man sucked on your neck?”      
“Is that how you usually get your love bites?”       
She pulls an immature face at you and flips you off in the mirror. “I’m 24!” She says, indignant. “I haven’t had a love bite in years!”      
“Well, that’s very sad and tragic of you.” You tell her with a sympathetic pout. “I can only apologise that you’re so prudish and boring, I hope you’re able to recover from that soon!”      
“You’re in a very annoying mood.” She recognises with a sigh, frowning at your reflection as you carry on with your camouflage attempt. “We’ve only been here a day! I thought I was supposed to be the slutty sibling!”      
“You are the slutty sibling.” You remind her with a chuckle. “You were in a relationship just last week, and I’ve already had to make breakfast for three different girls since you broke up!”      
She smiles at you, very proudly, because she’s very very gross, and has absolutely no shame in it.       
“It’s no wonder you looked so happy last night, then.” She says, carefully inspecting your neck for you. “That’s covered it, you’re fine.”      
“Mm. Thank you very kindly!” You tell her, giving her a great big kiss on the cheek for her assistance, that she very quickly rubs back off again.       
“Be less annoying!” She begs.       
“I will not be making any promises!” You warn her, smiling widely as you tie your hair up and give yourself another once over. “How are we looking?” You ask, giving her a quick twirl.       
“Traitorous.” She grumbles.  
“Perfect!” You squeal, excitedly grabbing her hand and pulling her out of the hotel room with you.  
Your enthusiasm doesn’t die out at all, as you clamber into the taxi with your sister, and, as luck would have it, your driver is an even bigger culer than you are. You’re able to have a pretty in-depth conversation with him, what with all of the new knowledge that you’ve so recently acquired, and Em’s just ecstatic for the pair of you.
It isn’t a long drive from the hotel to the stadium, but you do clearly make quite the impression on the driver, as you end up having to reject, with as much politeness as possible, his invitation of a date for after the game.  
You’re really hoping to have other plans tonight, with some much-preferred female company.      
“He’s not ugly.” Em informs you quietly as you get out of the car, and she certainly isn’t wrong.  
‘Not ugly’ is just about as big a compliment as Em will ever give, regarding a man. So, you can rest assured that he is actually a very good-looking gentleman.  She narrows her eyes at you suspiciously as you close the door to the vehicle, and you furrow your brow back at her.  
“What?”     
“You can agree to go out with him tonight, you don’t need to look after me.”      
You shake your head at her, with a mild grimace, muttering out an ‘mm’, as your only offering of an explanation for your lack of interest in him. “No doubt you’ll be going home with someone else after the match?” You check, trying to switch the focus back to her.  
“Naturally.” She winks. “It’s been an unsuccessful holiday otherwise!”     
There's still an unfortunate level of determination in your sister to get you a date for tonight, and you have to really insist, that you simply don’t want the driver’s number. She eventually reluctantly agrees to let him take off, giving him an apologetic nod as he rolls up the window, and you give her an uncomfortable smile as she turns her attention back to you.  
“I really think you should be getting back on the horse.” She encourages, still eyeing you with suspicion as you start the short walk to the stadium. “You can’t waste your life pining after Jamie forever.”      
“I’m really not doing that.” You tell her with a sigh. “I just didn’t want to go out on a date with him.”      
“Do you already have plans with hickey-man?” She giggles.  
“Please don’t call them that,” you chuckle, “and no ..not technically.”      
“But that’s who you’re hoping to find again?”      
“Mhmm.” You mumble, trying to stifle the smile that’s pulling at your lips.  
“Is he nice?”      
“Mhmm.”      
“Is he attractive?”      
“Mhmm.”      
“Do you like him?” She asks, wiggling her eyebrows at you.      
“..Mhmm.” You reply again, and your slightly nervous smile fully takes over your face.  
“Oh ..you really like him. After just one love bite?” She questions, narrowing her eyes at you again. “You don’t usually fall so quickly.” She tells you, and you can only shrug at the suggestive tone to her voice.      
“I don’t really know what you want me to say to that?”      
“I just ..want you to be careful.” She explains. “I don’t want you getting hurt again.”      
“You were just trying to bag me a date with him?”      
“Yeah, but as a one-night thing.” She clarifies. “Falling in love with a random Spanish man isn’t the best way of getting over your ex.”      
“I’m not in love with them, and I’m not ..really still trying to get over Jamie.”      
“Hm. Good. He was a prat.” She reminds you with a rather disgusted looking frown at the memory of him.    
“Thanks, Em.”   
“Ugly cheating bast—”     
“Okay, Em. Enough.”     
“But he was an ugly cheating bas—“ 
“Enough!” 
“Sorry. He was a horrible dickhead, though.” 
“I know.” You sigh. “I get it, thanks.” 
“He still gets to you?” She realises, noticing that your hands have balled themselves into tight fists, and your stomach turns slightly as you shrug your shoulders at her.  
“A little.” You admit, as a less exciting reimagining of events begins to torment your brain. “I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with him, only to find out he’d been sleeping around for two years.” 
“Two years?” She asks, eyes going wide, and you kick yourself for saying too much.  
“I thought I already told you that.” 
“No ..you told me he’d been with a few women. Two fucking years?” 
“Please don’t do the maths, you’ll hate him even more.” 
You attempt to walk away, already having had enough of the conversation, but you don’t get very far.  
“You are joking.” She says, grabbing your arm to stop your escape attempt. “He cheated on you, because Mum died?”      
“Not because Mum died, you idiot. Even he wouldn’t be that foul.”     
“But it’s linked?”     
“Enough, please.”   
“No. What the fuck, Y/N?”      
“That’s enough, okay. I just want to enjoy the match. We can talk about it later.”     
“We can talk about it now! I have the tickets,” she reminds you, with a very clear anger brewing in her, “you’re not getting in there without me! Why the fuck would he cheat on you aft—”     
“Because I didn’t really fancy having sex with him straight after.” You interrupt, in a hushed tone, trying to stop her from causing a scene. “I didn’t fancy having it for a while, he clearly had ..needs.”     
“Don’t justify it.”    
“I’m not ..but ..I understand why he did it. I practically pushed him into the arms of other women.”     
“That’s disgusting, Y/N. You can’t really be blaming yourself for it?”     
“Well ..I don’t know..” You mumble.   
“He cheated on you for two years, because you didn’t want to sleep with him for a bit, and you think that’s okay?”  
“That’s not what I said. I just ..get it.”   
You turn away from her again, to carry on with the walk and she hurries after to you to keep in step, not really content in letting this godforsaken conversation die out just yet.  
“That’s really the excuse he used?” She asks.   
“That’s why it started, apparently. There was obviously ..something else, for him to want to carry on doing it.” You admit, fidgeting with your fingers uncomfortably as you start thinking. “Maybe I was ..missing something that he liked or ..not doing something he wanted me to. I—” you let out a sigh, shaking your head, “..it really doesn’t matter, okay? Please, that’s enough. I honestly haven’t been thinking about him, I don’t want to start again now.”     
“I’m sorry.” She tells you, with a clear look of remorse, and you give her a light nod with a tight-lipped smile in an attempt to ease her guilt.  
You carry on your walk for only a few paces before realising Em is no longer travelling with you, and you turn back to find her staring at her feet. “What are you doing?” You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose between your fingers and thumb.  
She taps her toes to the ground a few times, before lifting her head and approaching you with a real sense of purpose. “Here,” she says, handing you a small piece of paper, “in case you can’t find hickey-man.” She tells you, and you do let yourself chuckle a little at Alexia’s unfortunate new nickname as you unfurl the note.     
“You got his number for me? I really don’t need this.” You sigh. You hold the paper out to return to her, but she pushes it back to you.   
“I think you do.” She tells you earnestly. “I don’t think it’s good for you to keep getting hung up on people. First Italian-man, now hickey-man. You were even working yourself up about one kiss with that Spanish woman.” She rolls her eyes at you, before giving you a sincere look of concern. “I know you fall hard, but you don’t usually fall fast. It's weird, and it’s not like you.” She explains, placing her hands on your arms, trying to get you to listen to her better. “I think you should have a proper meaningless night with someone.” She suggests with a shrug “He’s not ugly, and you’re not interested. That’s perfect one-night stand material! You're welcome!”     
“Fine ..thanks.” You mutter, giving her a little nod in defeat as you stare at the number in your hand.  
A meaningless night with a stranger really isn’t what you’re after, but you’re not about to fight her on it now. It’s not an ideal conversation to have just had, really. Your sister isn’t exactly calculated enough to have done it deliberately, she’s not trying to upset you because your footballing-happiness was winding her up too much.  
It’s frustrating from her, but she’s genuinely concerned about you, and maybe she has a reason to be. Maybe you have been ignoring some things about yourself, refusing to confront a few little issues that are bubbling under the surface.  
The ending of your relationship isn’t super ancient history, and you were with him for an unfortunately excessive amount of time. Meaningless hookups were exactly what you were preparing yourself for before Alexia ended up being your first one and ruining the rest of your plans.  
You do know that you’re not letting yourself get hung up over three separate people, though. Italian-man, hickey-man and Spanish-woman are all one person, and letting yourself get so hung up on Alexia as quickly as you are, is fine. Probably. That’s not really a cause for concern.  
Right? 
Of course, you’ve still spent less than 24 hours with her, there’s probably still lots of things you don’t know about each other. You have shared some pretty intimate details about yourselves together already, though, and she doesn’t feel like a rebound, as such. That would be grotesquely underselling the connection between you both.  
She is a woman, which is still new to you, and you really don’t usually fall so quickly for people. It took that bellend over six months to finally wear you down for a date. All Alexia needed to do was hold out a lime for you, to get herself wedged inside of your head.  
Don’t let yourself think about it too hard, you’ll do yourself a mischief. You’re just here to watch some football. You’re here to watch the girl you like, play a bit of football.  
Let’s not overthink, it isn’t good for you. It will only lead to questions and concerns, and that’s not what you need right now. Let’s have fun! 
The atmosphere around the stadium is quite the riot, and it’s very effective in distracting you. There’s flares being let off, the sound of trumpets and drums, there’s colourful smoke everywhere, the most enormous flags you’ve ever seen in your life. It’s like a little carnival, and it’s invigorating, letting yourself get swept up in the excitement of it all.  
You receive a tremendous amount of friendly looks, solely because of the badge over your heart and the name proudly on display on your back and noticing that your sister isn’t shown the same courtesy for wearing her Chelsea shirt, really only adds to your enjoyment of the occasion.  
Em drags you through the large flock of fans, trying to make sure that you don’t get separated from each other on your way into the stadium, and you keep offering up apologies on her behalf, as she carelessly mows people down for you. She is quite the woman on a mission.   
You opt to keep your head down, a little embarrassed by your sister’s rudeness, but even as you make an effort to avoid making eye contact with all of the disgruntled supporters that she keeps barging through, there is one thing that you do struggle to avoid seeing, with some of the Barcelona fans.    
An overwhelmingly impressive amount of them, also have ‘ALEXIA’ on their shirts.    
This doesn’t come as a complete shock to you. She is the best player on the team, after all. There is something about seeing her name plastered over quite so many strangers’ backs, however, that has sent your heart racing.    
This turnout of people is undoubtedly nothing compared to the millions of followers that you found out she has on Instagram yesterday, but it’s a very different feeling, seeing her fame condensed into a little figure on social media, than it is, to actually seeing so many of them in person. It’s much harder for you to ignore the countless amount of admirers that she has, when you keep physically bumping into all of them.   
“Are you good?” Em asks, as you find yourself frozen in the crowd, staring at the back of another person’s shirt.   
“Hm? Yeah, sorry.” You mutter, giving your head a shake, before letting yourself get dragged along again. “She’s very ..popular.”    
“Putellas?” She checks, and you can only nod back at her, still a little dumbfounded by it all. “Well, yeah. Obviously!” She snickers. “Come on!”   
Maybe it’s pride that you’re feeling. Knowing you’ve been spending a bit of time with someone so well-liked. That’s very nice for you, that’s entirely enjoyable and fun. It doesn’t need to be anything other than that. What good would that do for you?  
Perhaps there's a slight nervous tension in your stomach, at seeing her name absolutely everywhere. That’s probably understandable and fine. You knew she was famous, but that’s still a little confounding to actually play witness to. No one’s going to hold that against you, it’s okay to be a little overwhelmed by it all.   
It’s a new reality for you. It makes sense that that would be accompanied with a new feeling too. Anxiety isn’t something that’s really presented itself to you when thinking of Alexia before now. Of course it isn't, why would it have been?   
Picturing little scenarios with her in your mind was fun, it was silly. It didn’t really mean anything when you were never going to find her again. You didn’t need to go putting doubts about yourself in imaginary-Alexia’s head, that wouldn’t keep things very fun and silly at all.   
There are a few doubts about yourself in your own head now, perhaps. Seeing as you have found her again, you’re falling for her, and she’s clearly not the little nobody that you thought you’d entangled yourself with, but that’s probably fine. It’ll be a temporary thing. Let’s not worry about it right this second. Let’s just enjoy the game instead!  
It really isn’t wise for you to start stewing on things. You really will start spiralling.   
How could you not?   
If you start letting yourself think too hard about all the things that you were lacking, and what you simply couldn’t offer to keep a pathetic pig of a man satisfied, and you really start allowing yourself to question why you weren’t good enough for him, that isn’t going to put you in a very good mindset when seeing all these fans that Alexia has.   
Her supporters aren’t limited to just little kids or grown men. There’s a lot of women here, also sporting her name. It isn’t necessarily the case that all of these women are gay, that’s not really how watching women’s football works. She can have straight women being her fans too.   
Some of them are probably gay, though, aren’t they? Lots of the ones that are gay, with her name on them, might have a little crush on her. It’s very likely that absolutely none of them will have had to do research all day to make sure that they knew what was going on this evening. All of them will have already known everything. They’ll be genuinely into football, genuine fans of Alexia.   
Gorgeous, confidently gay, and really into football. Those are the women that surround you right now. That’s fine. What’s wrong with that?  
Why are you letting yourself worry? Why are you letting them get to you? Because they make more sense for her? Because they’re better for her? Because you’re not a fan of football?   
Alexia already knows that, she didn’t walk out on you because of it. 
She did giggle a few times at your idiocy, though, didn’t she? So, she probably did think you were a little foolish. She would presumably think it was a bit lame of you, to have spent quite so much time studying for a football match. Who else has ever had to do that? You really probably are the only one. That is a bit embarrassing. Quite pathetic of you.   
Damn.   
What a loser, you are.   
Shit.   
Maybe you should let it get to you. Maybe you’ve let yourself get carried away. Maybe you’re having a psychotic break. You’re letting yourself fall for a woman. A Spanish woman. A famous Spanish woman. A famous Spanish woman who plays football professionally, for crying out loud! Look at all of these beautiful lesbian fans that she has here. What the hell do you think you’re playing at?   
You? A little nobody from London, who couldn’t even keep an ugly bastard of a man happy? If you weren’t even able to manage to do that, how could you possibly hope to be good enough, for two-time Ballon d’Or recipient, current Champions League and World Cup winner, Barcelona’s sweetheart, Alexia Putellas?   
That doesn’t seem very likely at all, does it? You being the soulmate of this ethereal goddess of a woman? Behave yourself. You really are delusional.   
Maybe that’s why she wanted you here, to laugh at you. Point and laugh at you with all of her football friends.   
Just go home now. Pretend that you’re ill. You do look a little ill. You’ve let yourself spiral, haven’t you? I did warn you about doing that. Now look at the state of you. This is very tragic.  
 
“Mate, what are you doing?” Em asks, as you once again find yourself paralysed, staring at yet another stranger’s shirt.    
“I just ..I don’t feel well.” You mumble.    
“Noo. Please don’t do that!” She begs, all too aware of what your next statement is going to be. “We’re here now!” She reminds you, bouncing on her toes. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought up that wanker, but please, we can still enjoy this together. You’ve been so excited about it all day.” She gives you a very sad pout, lightly pulling on your arm, trying to encourage you to keep following her.   
You really have been excited all day. It would be a shame to let your intrusive thoughts ruin it for you. You don’t want to let that bastard keep dictating all of the fun you’re allowed to have. You’re just here to enjoy some football.  
Woo!  
“Sorry. I just—” You pause, giving your head another shake as you try to catch your breath. “She’s just ..very popular.” You reiterate, gesturing to the stranger’s back with your thumb.   
“Did you think you’d be the only one here wearing her name?” She snorts. “I told you the woman who gave it to you was basic.”  
Your mind is still racing a little as you follow your sister out towards the stands. The atmosphere is even more intense inside of the stadium, and you try to let yourself embrace it all again, but it is mildly dizzying this time around.  
Em has nabbed you some pretty decent seats to be fair to her, though. One thing about your sister, she is absolutely going to treat herself and overspend on her interests without a care in the world. It’s something you often advise against her doing, it's not the wisest thing for her to do with her money. You couldn’t really be more grateful for it right now, though, when you’re practically sitting front row.  
Both teams are still out warming up, and you let your eyes roam the Barcelona side for a moment. You finally notice Alexia amongst all of the chaos, and you immediately stop noticing anything else. Your mind goes completely blank, just at the mere sight of her.  
She really does calm you right down, truly nothing else matters when she’s around you. That’s really very lovely. It’s a good thing you don’t live in two separate countries from each other. Imagine the way your mind would implode if you couldn’t just look at her all the time to stop your mental deterioration.. 
You watch Alexia, as she completes her runs, does some drills, begins to stretch. It’s like she’s the only one out there on the field, working in slow motion, putting on a show, just for you. There’s absolutely no reason for it to be as sexy as it is, she’s literally just warming up, but you find yourself, jaw clenched, as you observe her movements.   
She pauses for a drink break, and you remain mesmerised as she squeezes a jet of water into her mouth and pours a little extra over her face. You bite down on your bottom lip as you follow the beads of liquid rolling down her neck, slowly travelling under her shirt, and your breath hitches, as you allow yourself to remember exactly what it is that she’s concealing under her shirt. You can picture that body perfectly; you’ve thought of little else aside from it for over a month.  
She’s all hot, and sweaty, and— please! Pull yourself together! You’re in public, and you’re practically drooling. Do you remember when you were straight? Straight straight straight. Try channeling a bit more of that, perhaps. You’ll be an absolute puddle right there in your seat, otherwise.  
“There’s your one.” Your sister reminds you, making you jump as she nudges you and gestures down across to the pitch, once again pulling you away from your redacted thoughts.   
“Oh yeah! Thanks.” You tell her, feigning surprise, as you hide the small smile on your face, and swallow down on your arousal. You subtly wipe at the corners of your mouth with the back of your finger, just in case a bit of drool really had started falling, and you nod to your sister in acknowledgment. “She really is quite ..pretty.” You say pointedly, paying close attention to your sister’s thoughts and feelings on the matter.   
It probably wouldn’t be ideal if your sister showed an interest. She has a rather troubling talent with the ladies, and you’re not too sure you’d rate your chances going up against her, where another woman’s concerned.  
It really isn’t something you’ve ever had to think about before. There was never any chance of you two being into the same person until Alexia flicked a switch inside of your head. It was only a joke when she mentioned it in the café, but you can’t pretend it hasn’t niggled in the back of your mind a little.  
If you do end up introducing them, and they really hit it off? They almost certainly have more in common than you and Alexia do. They could talk for days about football together; they both have multiple tattoos where you only have a single measly little thing on your ribs. They’re both definitely gay, which is far more than you can say about yourself.  
That’s three strikes right there, isn’t it? That’s not very good.  
That’s all you get.  
You’re already out of the race.  
You’ll introduce them, they’ll fall in love, get married, have kids, and you’re left pining after your sister’s wife for the rest of eternity. Even the sweet release of death wouldn’t save you from a heartache that powerful. That’s an eternal pain. It’s permanent, infinite. A truly deathless agony that’ll haunt you till the very end of time itself.  
Good grief! 
What’s going on with you? You’re being very dramatic and sad suddenly. This really isn’t like you. You’ve only met this woman twice. Snap out of it! 
“Sure, I guess.” Em shrugs, not at all taken in by Alexia’s beauty. She really does have very questionable taste in women. You really should have known that already, that isn’t new information to you. You desperately need to calm down, you’re getting yourself into a really bad place.  
“Which one’s that?” She asks you, testing your knowledge as she points to another player on the field.   
“Ona Batlle.” You tell her confidently, shaking your worries from your head as you try to focus on what really matters right now. “Defender. Used to play for United.”  
“Very good,” she commends, genuinely quite impressed with the results of your last-minute cramming, “and that?”  
“María León. Mapi. Also, a defender. Didn’t go to the World Cup.”  
“Mhmm! And that?”  
“Not a bloody clue!”  
“For fuck’s sake.” She grumbles.   
“What? She’s one of yours,” you point out, grinning, “I don’t give a shit about the Chelsea players!”  
“You really are a twat.” She tells you, smacking your shoulder, before she crosses her arms and leans back into her seat. “Do you remember how the game works?” She asks you, rather condescendingly. “Do you need me to go through it all again for you?”  
“No, thank you.” You reassure her, innocently. “I think I’ve got it all memorised ..it’s just the best of three sets in the women’s game, right?”  
“Twat.” Em calls you again, and you chuckle to yourself, relaxing back down into your own seat, entirely satisfied with just how incredibly easy she is to wind up.  
You return your attention back to Alexia’s warmup routine, making sure to not keep letting your mind run wild with more dirty thoughts. It has been over a month for you, but even your sister’s showing a bit more decorum with her ogling of Sam Kerr. You really can control yourself better than this, you are not an animal.  
Alexia pauses her drills to have another sexy little drink, and you notice her surveying the crowd as she downs her water. She does a very careful examination of the away section, and she stops to stare, as soon as she finds you.  
You’re once again the only two people in the whole vicinity, as her eyes meet yours, and a bashful smile takes over her face.  
Whatever concerns you might be battling with, you can definitely be certain, that this woman wants you here today, and she isn’t at all discreet about how happy she is to see that you’ve come, and that you’re wearing her shirt.  
She mouths a little ‘hi’ to you, and it’s impossible for you not to smile at her, when your heart’s jumping up inside of your chest. You mouth back a ‘hi’ followed by a ‘wow’, with a slight wince, as you dramatically flit your eyes around your surroundings, and she bites at her lip, with a clear sense of awkwardness.  
‘I’m sorry.’ She tells you silently, but you shake your head at her with a furrowed brow.  
‘Don’t be daft, good luck!’ you offer with a smile, and a subtle thumbs up. You tap proudly at the badge on your chest, and Alexia’s smile only grows as she watches you.  
She responds with a nod, a ‘gracias’ and her own thumbs up, which clearly wasn’t as subtle as yours, as it didn’t go unnoticed by your sister.  
“Was that directed at you?” She asks, squinting at Alexia as she moves with the other players down towards the tunnel.   
“Hm? Looked like that, didn’t it?” 
“That’s quite cool.” She acknowledges. “She’ll probably think you got lost on the way in, sitting here with us. You don’t exactly blend in!”  
“No, that’s true.” You chuckle, tapping your hands down the red stripes on your torso. “Maybe she just felt bad for me, stuck here with you losers.”  
“Mm.” She grumbles, pulling a face at you. “That’s Sam Kerr!” She informs you excitedly, quickly moving on from your interaction, and focusing back on who she deems to be, the more important star of this evening’s show.   
“I know who Sam Kerr is,” you sigh, “I’m not an idiot. I’ve seen her poster on your wall.”  
“Mmmmmm.” She hums, gazing very dreamily at the striker as she makes her own way off of the pitch.   
“Oh, please.” You start, rolling your eyes at the state that she’s getting herself into. “Have some self-control, Em, we’re in public!”  
You really are a shameless little hypocrite.
  
Goosebumps spread all over your skin as the teams return to the pitch, and the Champions League anthem rings out around the stadium. You can feel the excitement really getting to you, as the hairs on your arms stand up on end.  
It’s very overwhelming. You couldn’t have cared less about this match yesterday morning, and now it’s the most important thing in the world to you.  
All for a girl, what has gotten into you?  
The game is highly contested right from the first whistle. With the first leg ending in a 0-0 draw, neither team is able to rely on aggregate to get themselves through, and you can feel the pressure that the players are under.  
Both sides are naturally desperate to win, though expectation is slightly higher for Barcelona, seeing as they won the whole thing last season.   
There’s a very mild sense of nervousness in you about the result. You’re not really sure how you’d go about consoling someone after a huge sporting defeat. You’ve never been very good at comforting Em when a football score has left her upset, and it’s probably far worse when you’re actually on the team that’s lost, and not just watching it through the television.  
You know exactly how Alexia would be able to cheer you up, and you’d be more than willing to try the same technique with her. She might not be as horned up as you clearly are, though. You may very well need to start drafting a proper commiserative speech for her, if the game does start running away from them. Sexual favours may simply not be enough.  
You do take some comfort in the fact that Barcelona haven’t lost to Chelsea before, and while you appreciate that nothing’s guaranteed in sports, Alexia’s very good, and you know for a fact that the rest of her teammates really aren’t too shabby either. There’s a reason that they’ve won this whole thing twice, and you’re letting the knowledge of that keep you from getting too worked up about it.  
Alexia’s the best in the world, and no best in the world is losing to bloody Chelsea, not today.  
Alexia’s incredible for you to watch when she plays, even when she only has possession for a second. She’s just a wizard on the ball, the way she reads the game so easily, how she seems to predict everyone’s movements. She’s always in control, unwaveringly calm, deliberate in her choices.  
She almost dances with the ball, and it’s impossible to deny how unbelievably gifted she is, as she weaves around her opponents. She has a very distinctive flair, for making it all look so effortless. It’s just incredibly sexy of her, and you find yourself wiping at the corners of your mouth again as you watch on, just in case.   
It’s not a skill that you’ve ever really appreciated in a person before. You’ve had boyfriends that played football in school, you watched your sister plenty of times when she was little, but you never really focused on them while they were actually playing.  
You’d cheer at the right moments, making the correct noises when you needed to, just following the rest of the crowd’s lead, mainly. You found it all a bit boring, really, it didn’t mean anything to you.   
Now, Alexia’s only casually passing the ball between herself and a few of her teammates, and you’re absolutely entranced by her, you couldn’t think of anything else you’d rather be watching. There’s a glow to her as she plays. She’s enthralling, captivating. You might be her number one fan.  
The match aside from Alexia’s performance, is far more tense than you’d care to admit. Both teams have plenty of attempts on goal, neither of them score. Every missed shot from Barcelona has you cursing under your breath, and every near goal from Chelsea has you covering your eyes like a child. It’s a little unbearable, you absolutely love it. It’s what sport’s all about.   
It’s a very unexpected reaction from you. The way your heart’s started palpitating, the slight tightness in your shoulders whenever a Chelsea player’s on the ball, the elation shooting through you every time Barcelona regains possession. It’s the skin around the nail of your thumb that suffers the most under your passion, as you nibble at it relentlessly, watching everything unfold with a high degree of intensity.   
You keep knocking your sister every time Alexia gets close to scoring, gripping at Em’s sleeve and tugging at her in anticipation. It’s hard to tell if it’s an excitable twitch, or if it’s stress-tapping of your foot, but every nerve in your body is on fire as you watch Alexia in her element. Em still can’t really understand your newly established avidity for the game, but she continually embraces it all with a light chuckle as she keeps telling you to “please, calm down.”   
The whistle blows for halftime and it’s still level at 0-0. You can barely contain yourself, letting out a huge breath that you weren’t fully aware you’d been holding in.   
“I can’t survive another half like that!” You warn Em, bashing your head against her shoulder. “I need a goal. Just one goal!” Your legs are bobbing up and down, as the adrenaline in you tries to find a way of escaping your body, and she rests her hand over them to calm you down.  
“Do you need a wee?” She asks, a little concerned at the mess you’re turning into, and you shake your head with a laugh.   
“No, I’m good, thanks! I just ..really want them to win.”  
“You’re really into it, aren’t you?” She chuckles.  
“Mhmm. Thank you for bringing me here.”  
“You’re welcome! I’m glad you decided to stay.” She tells you, with a proud smile on her face at finally winning you over on her favourite interest. “It’s a shame you’re rooting for the dark side, though. It’s weird that this is the team that speaks to you.”  
“Mm. I’m sorry about that.” You offer half-heartedly, pulling at the badge on your shirt to give it a kiss.  
“You’re such a traitor,” she tells you with a flick to your forehead, “Dad will be disgusted when I tell him.” 
 
The second half starts, and it’s much the same as the first. There’s more near misses, a few choice attempts on goal, and the game starts getting far sloppier as both sides get more desperate to score. There are some pretty ugly fouls, resulting in a few yellow cards being issued to both teams, and you’re suddenly far less concerned with winning, and far more worried about Alexia just making it out in one piece.  
“It’s quite brutal!” You point out to your sister, flinching as another Chelsea player goes tumbling to the ground.  
“Mm. You think she’d be more careful.” She tells you. She taps at the number on your shirt, and it sends an instant chill racing up the back of your neck.  
“What’s that supposed to mean?” You question, biting down hard on your thumb as you await her response.  
“She tore her ACL a couple years back, took her out of the Euros. She hardly played at all last season.” 
“Tore her ACL?” You ask, exhaling slowly as you make the connection in your head. “Would that be her knee?” 
“Mhmm.” 
“Shit.” Drops out of your mouth, as you bite your thumb a little too deeply, and you try to shake the stinging from your hand.  
It makes sense, that Em would choose to withhold this little titbit of information from you, you really are quite squeamish. If you’d known this game could turn into such a bloodbath, you’d have probably elected to stay home. 
Alexia had played it coy, when you traced your fingers over her scars that night. She wasn’t exactly uncomfortable with you asking her about them, but it still wasn’t something she was going to get into with you. You weren’t going to force the issue too hard, you’re not an idiot, but it had certainly piqued your interest. She really wasn’t forthcoming with any information about herself, and it quickly became apparent how talented she was at deflecting from your queries.  
It stopped being at the forefront of your mind completely, when she was otherwise so distracting with it. Her scars didn’t inhibit her at all when she was pressing her knee against you. It felt good, she seemed fine, who were you to question? 
“Should she be playing at all?” You ask flicking your thumb against your finger to try and weaken the pain shooting through it.  
“Sure! Lots of them do, you just think it’d freak ‘em out a bit more.” She tells you. “It’s amazing she still throws herself into it as much as she does, really.” 
“You don’t become the best by tapping out.” You recognise, and she excitedly nods her head at you.  
“No, exactly! Sometimes it happens again, though. Can be the exact same rupture, different tear, same leg. A few players have it happen to their other leg..” Em continues to give you a very unhelpful rundown of just how common this career-jeopardising injury seems to be, and an uncomfortable lump forms in your throat as she goes a little too deep into all of the details with it. “Are you okay?” She asks, cutting herself off at your obvious discomfort at her lecture, and she gently taps at your shoulder. “You’ve gone quite pale.” 
“I don’t like seeing people get hurt, you know that.” 
“She’ll be alright.” She reassures you, gesturing to the Chelsea player as she pulls herself back to her feet. “It’s just when a player gets stretchered off, really. That’s when you properly worry about them.” 
You suddenly find yourself, very stressed. 
It immediately feels like Alexia, in particular, has a target on her back as the game continues. Every time she gets on the ball, a Chelsea player comes flying in, rather aggressively, trying to win it back off of her. It’s a very violent onslaught, and it’s not one that you’re keen on watching.   
She spends most of the second half having to drag herself back to her feet, and you no longer feel like you can just blame it on the slightly wet grass, when there’s a menacing little Chelsea player hovering ominously over her every time she goes down to the ground.  
The game is still level as the clock starts running down the final few minutes, but any sense of relief that this torture is almost over, is immediately extinguished, as you remember that this specific game would have to go to extra time, and then penalties, if no one’s able to break the deadlock.   
Penalty shootouts, on their own, are usually just about the only thing you can tolerate in football, when you’re a neutral with zero stakes. It sounds like a nightmare now, however. Especially as it means you’d have to endure 30 extra minutes of the Chelsea players’ assault on Alexia.   
You really can’t take it. Your heart’s started thumping. You have a headache forming. Your fingers have turned to ice.  
You’re out of your seat as Alexia makes a beeline for the goal in the 87th minute. It’s an incredible scoring opportunity, she can’t miss.   
A Chelsea defender appears to the side of her, as if from nowhere as Alexia lines up her shot, and she’s brutally slid into, just outside of the area.   
You can hear the collision as it happens, it almost reverberates throughout the whole stadium. Life in the arena comes to a complete standstill, as everyone just watches it all unfold.   
Alexia goes down, and the world stops spinning, your heart stops beating, and time stands still.   
She stays down, and your body goes rigid, your blood runs cold, and you want to be sick.  
Get up. Please get up.  
Your sister grips on to your arm trying to comfort you, trying to tell you that it probably isn’t as bad as it looked, but your eyes don’t move from where Alexia lies on the floor, clutching her knee.   
Medics are rushed onto the pitch with a stretcher in hand, and you remain frozen in place.   
Please get up. Just get up.  
The defender is back on her feet only a minute after the tackle, and she’s shown a yellow card for her foul. You want to throttle the referee right there and then.  
“It should be a straight fucking red!” You shout, as you grip your hands together on the top of your head, trying to distract yourself from the burning in your eyes, and the new quiet ringing that’s started in your ears.   
You receive a couple of snide looks from the supporters surrounding you for your little outburst, and you can hear a few less-than-friendly words being bellowed out at you, but frankly, you don’t give a fuck.  
Just get up. Get up and walk off if you have to. Just get. up.  
You want to jump over the seats. Push every annoying, arsehole supporter in a Chelsea shirt right out of your way and invade the pitch to be with her. Your body’s screaming out at you to do something, anything, and you can’t. You’re useless to her.   
Just get up.  
Alexia looks to be in agony on the ground. A few of the Barcelona players are swarming the referee for her blatant incompetence. Even the other Chelsea players are a little amazed that they’ve gotten away with it, without going a player down.   
It was a dirty foul. Out of character, according to your sister. You don’t care. It could’ve been a complete accident by her, and you’re not fussed. It was reckless, it was filthy, and she should be off that goddamn pitch with some level of suspension at least.  
Get up. Please.  
Em tries to pull you back into your seat and you still don’t budge. You stand where you are, watching the small crowd on the pitch, as it slowly blocks Alexia from your view. You bite at the skin on your thumb, willing yourself to stay calm, willing Alexia to just get the fuck up.   
It feels like a lifetime waiting for things to happen, for any sign of development from the scene on the ground. You ultimately collapse back down into your chair, trying to catch your breath, trying to stop the world from swirling around you, trying to stop your brain from assuming the worst. You close your eyes, holding your face in your hands, blocking it all out.  
Get. Up.   
This isn’t really what you signed up for, is it? You wanted to watch the girl you like, play a little game of football. Possibly celebrate her winning, with some adult-fun-time. Not find out that she’s fairly recently had such a serious injury, and then watch her go crashing down to the ground, holding that specific body part. You can’t do anything about it. You can’t help. You’re stuck in place, watching it all happen right in front of you.  
This is torture. Maybe this is why you never let yourself get into football. Who is this fun for exactly? What’s the point in it all?  
What an unbelievably useless waste of your time. You were already in a bad enough place before the game kicked off and distracted you from it. Now it’s made it worse. This is terrible. You really should have just stayed home. Imagine coming all the way out to Spain and making yourself bloody ill with it. Jesus Christ.  
Please. Get up.  
After what feels like hours, the medics do start slowly dissipating and there’s a cautious ripple of applause around the stadium, because Alexia has gotten up, but not of her own accord. She’s being flanked by Mapi and Asisat, and she looks very unstable.  
They carefully remove themselves from under her arms, and she’s not very well balanced at all. She’s reluctant to put too much weight on her leg, she’s limping, and she’s still gripping onto Mapi for dear life, but she's not being stretchered off. She’s up, and you can breathe again.   
You watch on as she tests her strength, steadily gaining confidence that her knee isn’t going to give way beneath her, and she puts her hand up to Jonatan to indicate that she will not be getting subbed off. She gives her body a shake, looks over in your direction, and she nods to herself with a reinvigorated sense of determination.   
You don’t know if you’re completely turned on by her bold display of bravery, or if you want to give her a slap for being quite so carelessly audacious. She doesn’t need to play the hero; you’d rather she just sat it out.  
“What is she doing?” You mutter under your breath, shaking your head as Alexia waits to be let back into the game.  
“You don’t become the best by tapping out!” Em reminds you, with a smile, patting your shoulder reassuringly. Her entire demeanour is in stark contrast to the one that you’re currently displaying, and as comforting as she’s trying to be by rubbing at your arm, it isn’t very effective. “Are you sure you’re okay?” She asks. “You look really unwell.”  
“Mhmm.” Is all you’re able to mumble out, as your eyes lock onto Alexia on the sidelines.  
The free kick awarded for the foul is saved, and Alexia’s back on the pitch for the corner. You want to stop her. You want to swear at her. You can’t handle it. You need a drink.   
You grab at the neckline of your shirt and pull it up over the bottom half of your face. You’re very very stressed. Even the familiar smell of her on your top isn’t doing much to comfort you. She’s an idiot. She’s so unbelievably stupid. What the fuck?  
You watch the corner kick, as the ball goes sailing over the heads of everyone, before it connects with Alexia’s forehead and skims past the tips of the keeper’s fingers.   
The stadium erupts around you, and you’re back up off of your seat, letting out your own roar in celebration. Your eyes are absolutely stinging with tears, as you hold your forehead against your hands, and there’s more than a few snide looks at you from the supporters you’re buried in, given your lack of propriety about the situation.  
You’re getting called every colourful derogatory term under the sun for your rather ungodly little cheer, and still, you couldn’t care less. You let out a few huge breaths, trying to steady yourself, and despite her team now trailing in the final minutes, Em wraps her arms around you, giving you a shake, as she tries to get you to properly enjoy the moment.  
Alexia points up to the sky in celebration, and you can hear her name being gradually chanted around the stands. It catches in your ear, echoing in a crescendoing drone. It’s deafening, unrelenting, and you try to shake it back out of your head before it really starts getting too much for you.  
You know that there’s going to be a fair few minutes of added time with how many fouls the second half has had and given how long Alexia was just down for especially, but you can see how the life’s just been completely zapped from the Chelsea side. They’re not equalising today; the game is done.   
The whistle blows for full time at 1-0 and you finally slump back down into your seat. The stadium is going absolutely wild around you, and you just close your eyes to it, waiting for it all to die down.  
You can hear your sister trying to pull you out of your head, but you press your palms against your eyelids, trying to block everything out. Your body’s racking itself. There’s a sharp shortness to your breath, an uneven rapidity to your heartbeat. Your head’s burning up, and your eyes are stinging.  
You’re not really cut out for this, are you? It’s all gotten a bit much. You really are spiralling, look at the state of you. All this, because of one unfortunate, mistimed tackle? Because there’s a few extra people here that know Alexia’s name?   
Barcelona just won, Alexia just scored the winning goal, and you’re collapsing in on yourself. 
What would you have been like if they had just lost? If Alexia had been genuinely hurt? Not much good, clearly. Not very helpful.  
Alexia deserves someone better. Someone who doesn’t go into a panic in the stands whenever she hits the deck. Someone who isn’t unnerved by her celebrity status. Maybe someone, who isn’t questioning her identity, at the ripe old age, of 26.  
She deserves someone, who very much, isn’t you. 
It takes a few minutes for you to come back around, pulling yourself from your oppressive thoughts, and you can see colourful stars in your eyes as you finally relieve the pressure you were forcing against them. Em offers you some water, and you down it while she stares at you, her brow wrinkled with worry.   
“Are you okay?”  
“Mhmm. I’m fine, sorry.”  
“You won!” She points out, with a cautious optimism, smiling at you as she chuckles softly. “You’re supposed to be celebrating, not ..whatever the hell this is.”  
“I’m really sorry, I just ..I don’t like people getting hurt.”  
“You wouldn’t have had to go to a hospital with her, it’s alright.”  
“Mm.”  
She gives you a hug, which lasts a suspiciously long time for her, and you can feel her jaw moving against your shoulder as she lifts her head slightly.  
“Are you okay?” You ask, frowning as you push her away from you.   
“Mhmm.” She mumbles, not moving her eyes away from whatever it is that she’s seen behind you. “Are you definitely fine?” She checks again, with a mild desperation to her voice.  
“..Yes?” You reassure her, turning around in your seat to try and follow her gaze.  
“I’ll see you in the morning, then!” She tells you hastily, and she nudges your arm, before tossing your sweatshirt from her bag at you, and straightening herself up.  
“Wait, what?” You question, rather baffled by her quick switch in focus. “Where are you going tonight?”  
Em just directs your vision up a few rows of seats, to a red-headed woman who has very clearly taken her fancy. They’ve been making googly-eyes at each other all match apparently. Since you wound your sister up earlier, with your unwavering new support for the enemy, and Chelsea have just crashed out of the Champions League again, she’s going home with her tonight, to drown her sorrows.   
She really does have an incredible success rate with the ladies, at least you won’t have to make breakfast for this one in the morning.  
 
“You’re off, just like that?” You ask.   
“We can hang out again tomorrow?”  
“Aw, I appreciate that, Em. Thanks!” 
She chuckles at you, bouncing on her toes. “Ring taxi-man.” She advises you with a wink. “Or try to find your mysterious hickey-man, again! You deserve to have fun tonight. Celebrate the win properly! Get yourself another love bite!”  
“Mm.” You mutter, and she crouches down in front of you again.  
“Are you sure you’re okay?” She asks. “I can stay with you, if you want?”  
“Hm? No, don’t be daft. It’s fine, really.  Thanks. Go, have fun.”  
She doesn’t hang around long enough for you to change your mind. She gives you a far quicker hug than the previous one, patting you on the head, before running off and introducing herself to her new friend at the steps. They both cast you a quick wave, which you return a little awkwardly, before they walk up towards the exit. Just as easy as that.  
“Be safe!” You call out to them behind you, as you turn your attention back to the celebrations on the pitch.  
It takes a long while for the atmosphere in the stadium to really start fizzling out, and there’s still a distinct little hum of excitement that rattles through it, as the crowd dwindles, and the players continue making their way around the grounds.   
Alexia grins up at you as she passes by your section, and you can only manage to give her a weak smile in return as you pat your leg at her with a questioning look. She smacks her knee a couple of times, smiling with a dramatic roll of her eyes, and she gives you a thumbs up to signal to you that she really is okay. She isn’t limping anymore as she heads over towards the fans, so you could almost pretend it hadn’t happened at all, if it hadn’t been quite so mentally draining.   
A fair amount of supporters still line the barriers, holding out shirts and signs, and just about anything else that they can get a player’s autograph scrawled onto. Most of them are shouting for Alexia’s attention, and her popularity and fame is still quite an overwhelming thing for you to take in.  
She doesn’t miss any of them, they all get their moment with her. She makes sure everyone gets seen too, everything gets signed. She doesn’t rush a single encounter, and you don’t miss the way people’s faces keep lighting up whenever she approaches them.  
It’s very hard not to keep falling for her, watching her interact with people, the way that she is with them. She’s just good. She’s good at what she does, she's good with her fans, she’s a good person.   
You’re biting at your thumb again.  
The knuckles on your other hand, turning white, with the vice-like grip that you have on her sweatshirt. Your legs are bobbing, and you can feel your fingers freezing up. There’s a lot of combatting emotions fighting for dominance in your head, and you’re very unsure of yourself.  
The Chelsea fans were in far less of a partying mood, clearly, as you find yourself the only one left in the away section. You watch Alexia converse with the ever-diminishing crowd for a moment longer, before deciding, maybe it’s time for you to go, too.  
This isn’t your world; you don’t belong in it. It’s been a fun time with her, and there’s definitely a something between you, that’s been nice to explore, but there’s clearly been some sort of mistake. A divine, serendipitous little mix-up. She can’t be the one for you, as you’re really not the right one for her. It’s okay for this to be it, it’s okay for you to go.  
You walk down to the barrier and carefully rest her sweatshirt over it. You can’t really also leave her football shirt behind with it, but she’s probably not desperate for that back. She’ll have loads of them lying about, there’s probably another one waiting in her training bag, ready for her to give to someone else.  
You pat at the sweatshirt a few times, debating with yourself, and you look back up across the pitch to where Alexia is still signing shirts. She almost certainly does deserve someone better than you but abandoning her is still quite a harsh thing for you to do, she definitely deserves better than that.  
You can’t just leave her and not give her a reason for it, that’s very cruel. She was excited to see you, she’ll be upset if you walk out on her.  
You crash your head down onto the sweatshirt trying to decide your next move, letting out a quiet groan as you draw a blank. She’s still preoccupied with her fans when you raise your head again, and you start pacing the length of the railing tapping the tips of your fingers together.  
You look back down at the sweatshirt, across to Alexia, and up to the exit. Down at the sweatshirt, across to Alexia, and up to the exit.  
Sweatshirt, Alexia, exit.  
Sweatshirt, Alexia, exit. 
Sweatshirt, Alexia, exit. Exit. Exit.  
You find yourself stuck on the steps, only a second later, facing away from the pitch, without her sweatshirt in your hands. You’re really not sure what your plan is. 
You do still have that number in your pocket, you could always give him a call, he really was very good-looking, exactly your usual type. Tall, dark, handsome. Friendly. Very friendly. It’s classic to you, it’s easy. Maybe your sister’s right. You need to have a meaningless night with some random company that you just don’t give a shit about.   
You really just don’t want to go out with him, though. There’s a woman on the other side of the pitch that your heart’s still lunging out in the direction of, who still puts butterflies in your stomach every time she so much as looks at you.  
You don’t want to leave. You like this woman too much. There’s something real between you. Something strong.  
Maybe it’s too strong.  
It’s impossibly strong.  
It’s a delusional level of strong.  
You’re almost at the final step before the exit, when you hear a little whistle from behind you and it stops you in your tracks. Maybe it was that little bungee cord between you both, that alerted her to your leaving.  
It sends another chill coursing up the back of your neck, and there’s an instant blurring to your vision, as your eyes start welling up. 
“Y/N?” She calls up to you, with a small strain to her voice, and you flinch, your gaze dropping to the floor. Your jaw clenches, and you freeze in place, closing your eyes, in the hopes of just disappearing from right there in front of her.  
You can still go, just keep walking. It would still be very hard for her to find you. She doesn’t have your surname, or your address, she doesn’t know your phone number. 
You can get a clean break.  
Leave it as a solo night of fun. The meaningless distraction from him, that it was always supposed to have been. Stop letting yourself fall for her. Stop letting yourself care and worry, about a woman that you barely know. Go home. Behave. Find yourself a man and get on with your regular life.  
There’s another cautious whistle as you debate with yourself, and your heart aches, hearing it echo around you. You shift your body weight, awkwardly, from your toes to your heels, and back again, a fair few times. You drum your fingers against your thighs, over your stomach, and you look up at the sky, searching for an answer.  
You need someone to give you a push, give you a sign that you’re not making another mistake. You want your sister to come back and slap some sense into you. You want your mother to tell you what to do, she always did have the right answers.  
You gently tap your fingers to your face, trying to pull yourself back into your body, as you study the stars above you.  
There seems to be a definite twinkle to one of them, and you really don’t care if you’re just seeing things. You’re looking for an excuse, any excuse, and a slight flicker in the sky, is exactly what you needed. 
You straighten yourself up, before letting out a long breath with a small nod. You bounce on your toes, and you give your eyes a quick rub, before you ever so slowly, turn yourself back around.   
You might still be an idiot. A whole damn blasted fool.  
But she’s impossible for you to walk away from. That’s just not how it’s going to work with her. She already means too much, you’re already in too deep. She’s set up shop inside of your head, she’s already living inside of your heart. You couldn’t walk away from her, even if you wanted to. 
She has your heart skipping beats, whenever she says your name. She has the rest of existence fading into nothingness around you, when all she’s done is take your hand in hers. She sends goosebumps down your neck when she whispers to you, has you rolling your eyes with a chuckle, when she’s being a playful windup. Your mind starts spinning when she kisses you, and you feel safe when you’re resting in her arms.  
You had one of the best afternoons of your life yesterday, doing nothing, but spend a bit more time with her. Learning about her, laughing with her, kissing her. She’s put a burning inside of you, and a smile on your face. You spent the whole of last night, wide awake, because you couldn’t wait to see her again. She told you that she couldn’t wait to see you, either.  
This isn’t a solo night of fun, it’s not a meaningless distraction. It never really has been with her. It might very well be your person, that’s waiting for you down there, and you’d only stand to lose everything, if you walk away from her now.  
You draw in a breath and look down to the sidelines of the pitch. It’s the greatest women’s footballer in the world, that’s leaning up against the stands for you, and she’s hoping, that you’re not about to leave her, not without at least saying goodbye to her first.    
She looks very small when you see her. All the grandeur, and spectacle that shrouded her during the game, has been completely wiped once again. She’s just Alexia, Ale, A. She’s just a woman that you met in a nightclub, just a girl that you’ve been getting to know.  
There’s a very obvious sense of worry in her, it’s not a look that often spreads across her face. She shuffles herself, tapping her hands gently on the sweatshirt over the barrier as she tilts her head down towards the ground, and you steadily make your way back down the steps towards her.  
“Felicitats.” You offer weakly, and she smiles softly up at you.  
“Gràcies.”  
“Is your knee okay?” 
“Yes.”   
“Are you sure?”  
“Yes. I promise.”   
“It wasn’t a very friendly challenge.” You tell her, frowning at the tunnel that the Chelsea player made her escape from you down. “You gave me a fright, when you didn’t bounce straight back up. Are you definitely okay?”  
“Yes, I’m fine!” She insists. “Look!” She tells you, patting her knee a few more times, and kicking her leg out to show you that it hasn’t fallen off. You can’t not smile back at her when she’s being so very cute, even if she is incredibly stupid. “I promise you, it’s fine.” She repeats, and you just have to believe her.  
“You didn’t fancy telling me your big secret, yourself?” You call out, as you continue making your way towards the pitch, glancing around the stadium, before sliding your hands into your back pockets.   
“It didn’t feel ..that important,” is the excuse she gives to you, as she picks at the fabric in her hands, “the night that we first met.”  
“And yesterday?” You push, crinkling your brow up slightly. “Still not that important?”  
Her gaze drops to the ground as you wait on the bottom step, and you nibble at the inside of your mouth. “Are you angry with me?” She asks nervously, quietly tapping her hands with a bit more agitation, and not yet meeting your eyes.  
There’s a painful twinge in your heart as you watch her unfamiliar mannerisms, you much prefer when she’s being insufferably cocky and annoying. It’s far less painful, a lot more fun.  
You let out a breath, before closing the rest of the distance between you both, and you gently rest your hands on top of hers, to stop her little nervous drum solo. She still doesn’t lift her head to face you, and you take in a shaky breath, readying yourself.  
“Do I seem angry?” You ask her quietly, trying to encourage her to look at you, as you delicately draw shapes on the backs of her hands, to distract you both a little from the obvious tension.  
You don’t miss the goosebumps that quickly form up Alexia’s arms as you do, and there’s a feeling that jolts inside of you, knowing that you both have the exact same effect on each other, even with the most casual of touches.  
She lifts her eyes to study your face, and she shakes her head, as you smile softy back at her.  
“Well, there you go then!” You tell her with a light chuckle, placing a kiss to her forehead before resting yourself against the railing between you both, and she lets out a wobbly breath. “Of course I’m not angry with you ..I did feel a bit stupid last night, that I really didn’t know.” You explain. “..I feel a bit intimidated, now that I do.”  
“I’m still just me.” She reminds you quickly, and you can see the shimmer in her eyes, as she tries to keep herself from cracking.   
You can’t help narrowing your eyes at her little claim as she collapses her head down into you, nestling it in the crook of your neck. “They call you the bloody queen, Alexia.” You remind her, and she shakes her head against you.  
“I hate that title.” She confesses. “I promise you, I’m still just me.” 
 
It’s hard to deny her that. When all of the noise has died out, and it’s only the two of you left. She is just her, she’s just another woman. A woman who is very clearly worrying about you and your reaction to her career. She knows that she stands to lose you because of it, and it’s very obvious, as her tears pool on your skin, that that isn’t something she wants to happen.   
Despite it still being ridiculously early days between you both, this connection that you feel so strongly, may very well be reciprocated by her, and it would be a shame, for a bit of football, to stand in the way of it.  
It’s terrifying, knowing that she can get hurt. Realising that everything she’s worked so hard her whole life for, rests on a knife’s edge, every time she steps foot onto the pitch. It isn’t easy, being made aware of how common of an injury it is, and how there’s no way of protecting her from it.   
If she’s going to get injured again, that’s just a harsh reality of football, and that’s a very difficult pill for you to swallow. It’s not a risk that you can stop her from taking, either. This is her dream, and you’d just have to support her through it. The good, and the bad.  
It’s also a little disconcerting, knowing how adored she is. The fact that she’s quite a bit famous, especially in this city, if nothing else. As much as you don’t want to let it seep into your mind, and affect your thoughts about Alexia too deeply, it’s impossible for it not to have altered things for you slightly.  
You’re only human, and you weren’t really fully prepped, on what her celebrity actually entailed. She was just another regular person to you yesterday, but in reality, she is clearly very far from that, and it’s a little unfair that she wasn’t the one to break the news to you. To give you some sort of heads up, before throwing you in at the deep end today.  
But ..you really were having fun, before it all went south. You were excited, you were proud, you were enjoying a football match. She does things to you. She brings out a side of yourself that you’ve never explored before, a side that’s laid dormant, for your entire life. She’s incredible, in ways that largely transcend her achievements on the pitch.   
Alexia’s never made you doubt yourself. She’s never given you any reason to question her interest in you, that’s one thing that she’s never been secretive about.  
She doesn’t know what you do for a living, but she probably correctly assumes that you’re not famous, and that hasn’t put her off at all. She doesn’t think she’s too good for you, she hasn’t treated you like you’re beneath her.  
Her fame doesn’t follow her everywhere, you were able to be completely oblivious to it, before your sister told you about it. It’s not debilitating, it doesn’t stop you from having moments together. It’s something you might have to get used to. Find a way of understanding it, learn how to cope with it. Especially on match days, when you really can’t ignore the actual magnitude of it. That wouldn’t be impossible for you to do.
  
There’s a connection between you both, it doesn’t matter how celebrated she is. You haven’t just shared a few careless kisses; it wasn’t just one night of meaningless sex. There’s something real between you both, and it already existed before you knew who she was. This madness that surrounds her, was always the reality; you were just unaware of it.  
There was a spark, regardless. You’d have the same connection with her if she was filling shelves in a supermarket, why should this be any different?  
She wasn’t put off by your lack of interest in football. She really wanted you here today. She gave you her shirt to wear. She told you she hoped you’d enjoy the game. There were tens of thousands of people in attendance this evening, and she searched for you, specifically.   
She deliberately put you in a contrasting shirt, so that she’d easily be able to find you, so that she’d definitely know that you came, and that you were here, watching her. That’s all she wanted. She just wanted you to see her play, and for you to have fun while doing it. She wanted you here, cheering her on. The best player in the world, and she's been choosing you. A little nobody from London.  
You’re allowed to be excited about that. You’re allowed to stop questioning her and second-guessing yourself. You don’t need to pay attention to the noise around you, the excited obsession with her from strangers, those distracting little seeds of doubt that he’s put into your head about yourself.  
There’s just her. There’s just Alexia, and she wanted you here.  
“Well ..just you,” you start softly, placing a kiss to the side of her head, “is a bloody lot more impressive than most people ..you were incredible out there.” You whisper shakily, and you can feel as she smiles against you, burying her head further into your neck.  
“You enjoyed it?” She breathes, and you can see a small bit of the weight that she’s bearing, lifting from her shoulders.   
“Until that moment. Yeah, I really did!” You tell her, smiling in mild disbelief at yourself. “I was worried, that I might have to pretend for you, but I just ..really loved watching you play, seeing you score!”  
“Were you quietly cheering?” She asks, pulling herself back from you, to excitedly take you in.   
“There was nothing quiet about it!” You admit with a grin, as you wipe away the streaks of tears on Alexia’s cheeks with the backs of your fingers. “You scored the winner!”  
The biggest smile spreads over her face at your bold act of tiny rebellion, and she pinches at the fabric of your shirt, gliding her fingers down the front of it, as she gives it a quick examination. “You were lucky they didn’t throw tomatoes at you, then!” 
“Mhmm! I did get a few words thrown at me, mind! There’s some horrible people about.” You tell her, as she continues holding onto your shirt. Her eyes meet yours and it’s a pair of nervous smiles that you exchange with each other. “I know it won’t mean much, coming from me. I’ve not watched a lot of football, and I know you have some pretty big awards for it, but ..you’re really bloody good! I’m so proud of you.”  
“It means everything.” She tells you ardently, pulling you into her over the railing. “I’m so glad you enjoyed it!”  
You let yourself get lost in her embrace for a moment, while she clings to the back of your shirt, and you can hear as her breath hitches when you place a quick kiss to her neck.  
“I really didn’t enjoy watching you get taken down, mind.” You reiterate, quietly.   
“No? I didn’t love that either, really.” She admits, chuckling to herself.  
“But you’re definitely okay?” You check again, pulling away from her to look properly at her leg.   
“Yes. I promise you. It’s fine, I’m fine. It just happens sometimes.” She shrugs.  
“Please don’t tell me that!” You beg, quickly shaking your head at her. “You can’t be putting me through that every match!”  
“Mm? You’ll be watching more games?” She asks, with that famous little smirk coming back into view as you nod your head at her.   
“I mean, it’s a bitch of a commute to do this weekly, but I’ll definitely be watching you on the telly, when I can’t make it.”  
“Wow.” She says, linking her arms together behind your neck. “You really did enjoy it.”  
“I know ..you’ve broken me!” You chuckle, as she rests her forehead to yours, and her lips are once again, the only thing you can focus on. You watch as she wets them in front of you, and it almost feels like she’s taunting you a little bit. “Are we allowed to kiss here?” You ask, trying to disguise your desperation, as you pull yourself away to scan the stadium.  
There’s only a few random stragglers making their exits up the steps, and none of them seem to be paying any attention to the pair of you at all. So, it might not be beyond the realms of possibility.  
Alexia takes your face in her hands and tilts your head. “Yes.” She tells you, simply, and she pulls you into her, capturing your lips with hers. She doesn’t do her own check of your surroundings at all; she really isn’t too fussed if anyone’s watching you both this time.  
It’s quite the romantic place to have a kiss, honestly. A huge colosseum, that’s almost entirely empty, a blanket of stars in the sky up above you. It’s not a kiss with any caution. It’s not hasty or secretive. It’s familiar, safe, and it’s able to finally be unreserved.   
It’s a kiss that the pair of you have been craving. One that doesn’t taste of tequila, that doesn’t have to be hidden from view, and one that doesn’t have the looming dread of immediate departure attached to it. It’s a slow deep kiss, that feels like home, and you’re quite content to drown yourself in it.  
“Where’s Em?” Alexia asks, and she really has ruined the moment.   
She seems unaware, as her lips are still moving against yours, but you freeze, breaking the kiss at her twisted choice of topic.  
“Woww?” You drag out, pulling back from her with a frown. “Mentioning my sister is a real mood-killer I do hope you realise!”  
“I’m sorry!” She giggles, trapping her bottom lip between her teeth.   
“You’re supposed to have come over here for me, not her!”  
“I did come over for you!” She tells you, rolling her eyes at your dramatics. “I just meant ..you’re here on your own.”  
“Mm. She left me.”  
“Why?”  
“She met a girl, while we were watching you play,” you explain, “they’ve gone back to hers already.”  
“Oh?” She questions, her eyes sparkling as she arches an eyebrow at you. “To play cards?”  
“Yeah,” you chuckle, “I think so.”  
She links her arms back over your shoulders, leaning in very close. “So ..you’re without company tonight?” She checks, her lips ghosting yours, and your heart starts racing again at the suggestive tone to her voice.   
“Mhmm. That’s quite sad, isn’t it? When I’m on holiday?”  
“That’s very sad.” She agrees, tracing your jawline with her index finger.  
It’s hard not to have a physical reaction to the way that she’s always touching you, and you swallow down as she angles your face to draw her mouth even closer to you, your breath catching in your throat as her lips brush against yours.  
“Are you short on company tonight?” You whisper, rather shakily.  
“Mhmm.”  
“Oof. That might be even sadder.” You point out, and she nods in agreement with a small pout, before finally succumbing to another long kiss.  
You breakaway, entirely short on breath, and she smiles as the obvious effect she’s just had on you as you try to come to your senses. “Do you ..not want to celebrate with your teammates?”  
“Not really.” She tells you, her pupils dilating as her eyes roam over your body.  
“Would you ..maybe, want to do something with me, then?” 
“Are you asking me on a date?” She asks, her cocky little smile curving her lips, and you chuckle despite yourself.   
“I really think I might be. You admit. “I don’t know what you’ve done to me!” You tell her, shaking your head with a smile. “I’d never looked at another woman before, never cared about a football result. Never asked someone out on a date.”  
“Mm? And now look at you.” She says, cradling your face as she searches your eyes. “Does it scare you?” She asks, stroking her thumb over your cheek, and you pause for a beat in consideration.  
“A little,” you confess, “but never when I’m with you.”  
Your candour earns you another kiss. Whether she’s fully aware of the power her lips have on calming your nerves, or she just fancied kissing you, you don’t really know, and you don’t really care. You welcome it the same way you’ve welcomed every other kiss from her, and the same way you’ll continue to welcome any future kisses from her, should you be so lucky.  
“Were you going to leave me?” Alexia asks after a moment, tapping at the sweatshirt again with a horrible look of uncertainty in her eyes.  
“I really don’t know.” You tell her honestly, and worry creases her brow, as you let out a breath. “I don’t think I’d have got very far,” you admit, “but it’s just ..been a lot to take in.”  
There’s a familiar look of understanding from her. It’s the exact same look she had given you when you’d stayed still in the hotel elevator, as she had made her exit. It’s a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes, that barely curves her lips. It’s a look of acceptance, resignation, and it’s a heartbreaking sight to see.   
“I don’t want to leave you.” You clarify. “I don’t really know ..what this is, between us, but I know how I feel about you, and I don’t want to run from it. I just know ..that you can probably do better.”  
You bop your own hand gently on the barrier in a fist, and she narrows her eyes at you. “What do you mean by that?” She asks, and you nibble at the inside of your mouth.   
“I freaked out ..when you went down. It got to me outside, seeing your name everywhere. I couldn’t ..really tell you what my sexuality is, at this point.” You take a breath, still knocking your fist awkwardly on the railing. “There’ll be so many other women, more sure of themselves, more ..prepared, and ready to embrace everything.” You explain, closing your eyes to stop them from stinging. “They won’t need to study your team before you play, they won’t go into a panic every time another player gets a little too close to you. They’ll be just as desperate to be with you, and they’ll be bett—”  
You’re cut off from your little ramble, with what you’re assuming was a kiss.  
Your eyes are closed, and it was unbelievably quick. You’d be forgiven for thinking you’d imagined it completely; it was really quite so fleeting. If the fireworks that Alexia’s set off on your lips weren’t quite so familiar to you, you might have thought it was a bee that had stung you. She’s really gone and left you all lightheaded with little more than a peck.  
“You kissed me!” You tell her breathlessly, as though she wasn’t the one to do it to you.  
“Mhmm. Imagine that.” She says, as she lets her eyes roam over your face with a small smile. “You studied the team?”  
“I know, I’m sorry.” You cringe. “I just didn’t want to not know who you played with. I mean, I didn’t even know who you were yesterday, what chance would I have had with any—”  
She kisses you again, the exact same way, leaving you with the exact same reaction.  
“You kissed me!” You repeat, and she chuckles at you, nodding her head.  
“Mhmm. You’re on vacation,” she reminds you, “and you spent the day studying my team?”  
“Mm.”  
“And you worried about me getting hurt?” 
“Mm.” 
“And you’re so desperately into me, that I’ve got you questioning your sexuality?” She winks.  
“I mean..” you chuckle softly, rolling your eyes, “..maybe.” 
“And you really think, that any of that ..would make me like you less?” She asks, narrowing her eyes with that familiar smirk.  
“Well ..sort of.” You admit. “I mean ..the studying. Most people wouldn’t need to do that.”  
“You didn’t need to do that.” She points out.  
“Mm ..no, I really think I did.” You chuckle. “I didn’t know anything about football this morning, you can ask Em.” 
“You don’t care about football.” She reminds you. 
“Maybe not ..but I care a little bit about you. I just knew it was important to you, I didn’t want to be completely clueless about it.” 
Alexia shakes her head at you lightly, before kissing you again. It’s not so quick this time, so you don’t need to be as embarrassed about her still leaving you lightheaded and short on breath.  
“You kissed me!” You repeat, a childish grin taking over your face, and she rests her forehead to your shoulder, chuckling at your excited little reaction. “So, you do still like me the same?” You double-check and she lifts her gaze to meet your eyes.  
She cradles your head in her hand, shaking her own lightly back at you as she rubs her thumb over your cheek. “I think I might like you even more.” She tells you. “I wasn’t really sure that would be possible after yesterday.”  
“Really?” 
“Mhmm.”  
“Well ..what else are you into? I can study anything.”  
She giggles at your eagerness before kissing you again. “I’m very into you.” She says, and your eyes light up in front of her.  
“That’s so unbelievably lucky, I know almost everything about her already!”  
“Yeah? Then maybe we’re perfect for each other.” She tells you, with a distinct conviction in her voice that sends that special little thrill running right through your body as she pulls you in for another kiss. 
 
“So ..is that a ‘yes’?” You ask. “To maybe going on a date with me? It’s a bit late now, I know, but we still have tomorrow.” You suggest, beginning to stumble over your words. “I know it’s probably not the smoothest way you’ve ever been asked out. I’m new to this. I’m not very good, but I’ll work on it. I’ll get better.” 
“I think you’re already better than you think you are.” She tells you softly, resting her forehead to yours. “I’d love to go on a date with you.” 
“Even though my head’s a mess and I’m still figuring things out?” 
“Mhmm.” She giggles, gently rolling her bottom lip under her teeth. “I’ll help you figure things out. We’ll work it all out together.” She offers.  
“That could be a lot of work.” 
“I know, and I really think you might be worth it.” She tells you, giving you another gentle kiss. “I’m sorry all of this got to you. I should have told you about it yesterday, but ..I didn’t want to scare you off.” She explains. “I know it can be a lot, I don’t love every part of it..” 
“It’s okay, I don’t think anything could’ve prepared me for it, really. I knew you’d have a lot of fans ..it was just seeing them all. Like this ..Alexia army.” 
“I’m so sorry.” 
“Please don’t be. You have nothing to apologise for.” You reassure her. “Not unless all those other buggers also got their shirts from you?” 
“No,” she chuckles, running her fingers up the front of the fabric on your body, “you’re the only one.” 
“I should probably feel quite special, then.” You wink. “People would kill to be wearing this.” 
“Mhmm. You are special.” She tells you, her fingers trailing the neckline of your shirt. She pulls you back into her, her lips feathering yours. “You’re in my top three for a reason.” 
The barrier’s proving to be a little bit of a pest to the pair of you, what with it being such a hindrance to all of your kissing. After receiving confirmation from Alexia, that no one would attack you for joining her on the grass, you throw her sweatshirt on over your head, and quickly negotiate the railing to be with her. 
It might be your favourite place to be, just melting into her arms as she holds you against her. Even though she’s still a little bit gross from running around for so long, you wouldn’t really swap it for anything.  
Your eyes flick around the stadium as you look over her shoulder. There’s a faded majesty to the arena when it’s empty like this. You’re the only ones still out here and the beauty of the place isn’t lost on you, as you get to share it with Alexia. It feels more special without thousands of other strangers crammed in here with you, it’s like a secret discovery you’ve both stumbled upon. A vast abandoned colosseum, existing just for you two.  
“Does it not freak you out, playing in a place like this?” You ask her. 
“Not really.” She tells you, rather casually, joining you in staring up at the stands.  
“There’s so many eyes watching you.” 
“Mm. You sort of just block it all out.” She says. “You can hear everything, all the chanting and singing, but you don’t really pay too much attention to it. Not until you score, and then again at the end of the game. It isn’t really scary at that point, though. Then it’s just thousands of other people celebrating with you.” 
“You’re quite amazing,” you realise, gently nudging into her, “I think I’d shit myself.” 
She giggles at your blunt confession, intertwining her hand with yours. “I’d probably freak out if I did that in front of everyone.” She admits, kissing your fingers. “That’d be quite hard to live down.” 
“Do you not get nervous at all?” 
“No.” She tells you, simply. “I’ve worked hard for this. I trust myself; I trust the team. Us playing in stadiums like this, in front of crowds like that, it’s what we deserve. It’s what we’ve been doing it all for.” She drops her head momentarily, taking in a breath. “I wasn’t too sure I’d get the chance to play again at all, after..” she gestures loosely down to her leg and stands a little taller as her grip on your hand tightens, “I don’t take it for granted, that I’m able to be here. It’s where I’ve always wanted to be. I’m not going to waste time being scared of it.” 
There’s a different air of confidence to her on the pitch as you watch her. It’s not the same playful cockiness that she so often uses with you. It’s not arrogance, she isn’t being smug. She’s just proud of herself, the journey that she’s been on. She’s proud of where she is, she’s proud of her teammates and she really has every bloody right to be.  
“Are you okay?” She asks, her brow crinkling lightly as she looks to you. “You’re staring.” 
“Sorry. You’re just ..very beautiful.” You shrug, and you can see a small flush of colour settle over her cheeks as she smiles before quickly averting her eyes.  
“You haven’t told me what it is that you do for a living.” She reminds you, shirking the focus away from her as she walks backwards a little ahead of you, pulling you along with her. “We had an agreement.” She reminds you.  
“I think it’s far less exciting than your big reveal.” You warn her. “I’m just in finance ..banking.”  
You offer it with a tone of apology to your voice, which she certainly picks up on as she smiles at you and takes your other hand in hers. “That’s very impressive.” She assures you and a blush spreads across your own cheeks as she interlaces her fingers with yours. “You’re quite clever?”  
“I’m not too bad with numbers.” You chuckle.  
“Do you enjoy it?” She asks, and you nod your head.  
“That must seem ridiculous to you.” 
“Not at all. Are you good at it?” 
“Oof ..I’m not awful.” You smile. “I’ve actually been named ‘Employee of the Year’ on more than two separate occasions.” 
“Have you really?” She giggles.  
“Mhmm. That’s the same as those balloon awards of yours, right?” 
“Mhmm. Yes. Yeah ..I think that’s the exact same thing.” 
She really must like you if she’s willing to lie like that. There is slight tone of sarcasm to her voice, and rightly so. Your sister’s explained to you what a Ballon d’Or is, and Alexia being presented with it, for two years on the trot, is no mean feat. She’s been recognised for being the undisputed best at her profession, globally. You’ve received ‘Employee of the Year’ bonuses because your boss is a filthy pervert with a crush on you. These are not the same things at all.  
It’s very sweet of her to downplay her achievements for you and there’s something about her lack of arrogance with her career that’s very intriguing. She almost minimises her own importance, ignores the significance, and the impact that she’s had on the sport. It’s really just a regular job to her. She’s ‘just’ a footballer.  
She takes genuine pride in it, but she’s not gloating at all, she’s not bragging. Without her fans around her, you really wouldn’t know how big of a sensation she actually is. The fame and accolades really aren’t what she’s done any of this for. She just loves playing the game.  
“You’re staring again.” She points out, kissing your forehead.  
“You’re ..still very beautiful.” You tell her, offering up another shrug in lieu of any better explanation for your continual admiration of her.  
She places a kiss to the back of your hand, and her eyes twinkle over it as she meets your gaze. “We should get out of here.” She tells you. “I need to have a shower, but then we can go.” 
“Do you want me to wait here?” You offer, and she frowns at you in confusion. “So that you don’t have to introduce me to anyone.” You explain, and she giggles, shaking her head.  
“A few of them would probably recognise you.” She says, and a hot flush of embarrassment spreads right through your body.   
“Shit! For being drunk and angry?” 
“Mhmm! And straight.” She reminds you with a wink. “I think they quite like you, don’t worry. Mapi’s definitely a fan already.” 
A small groan falls from your mouth as you remember your rather unfortunate behaviour from that night, and it’s hard not cringe at yourself. It’s amazing you made such a good impression on Alexia, all things considered, but it’s a bit embarrassing to realise there was more than one world-class footballer watching your drunken antics.  
“I’ll have to stay out here.” You grimace. “That’s horrific!” 
“They’re probably already gone!” She giggles. “We’ve been out here for a while.” She places another kiss to your forehead, before walking backwards towards the tunnel holding her hand out for you to join her. “Are you coming?” 
You nod your head at her but make no real effort to move from where you are. “I never thanked you.” You call out to her, and she stills herself, tilting her head.  
“For what?” She chuckles, narrowing her eyes.  
“For saving me that night. From that old man ..I really don’t know where I’d be now if you hadn’t.” 
A grin splits her face, and she doesn’t miss a beat. “Therapy, probably!” She says, and her laugh echoes in the air around you.  
You quickly pull her sweatshirt back up to hide your face under it, shaking your head in shame, because she’s almost certainly right. It would have taken you a very long time to recover from waking up next to him the following morning. You definitely wouldn’t have been going for seconds, thirds and fourths with him all night. He’d have had a heart attack trying to compete with Alexia’s stamina.  
“He was so gross.” She reminds you, pulling the sweatshirt down as she returns to you. “You were very drunk.” 
She pushes the loose hairs back from over your face, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips as she cups your face.  
“I don’t remember you helping me with that.” You point out. “I had more drinks with you than anyone else.” 
“Mm ..I quite liked being inappropriate with you. You were very daring,” she recollects, kissing you again, with her cocky little smile, “you’d already licked most of me before we even left the club!” 
“You started it!” You remind her, and she giggles in front of you.  
“Well, if that was a competition we were having, I think you certainly won!” She admits. “I’m sure abuelo would have enjoyed drinking with you just as much.” 
“Oof. Please don’t.” You mutter, suppressing a gag. “I think I’d have slapped him if he’d tried licking me.” 
Alexia laughs again, lifting your hand to her lips, to place a kiss to the back of it, and she winks at you, before she licks all down it with her tongue.   
“You’re such a child!” You giggle, wiping your hand against your shirt, and she winks at you again. “You could’ve been here with that girl from the toilets.” You point out. “At least she was very pretty.” 
“I know.” She sighs wistfully. “It’s a shame someone stole me from her.” 
“Mmm ..okay.” You mutter, rolling your eyes.  
She shakes her head with a small smirk, taking your hand and pulling you into her before wrapping her arms around your waist. “I’m glad I’m here with you.” She tells you, lightly bumping her nose to yours. “Bit scary of you, though. Following me all the way out here!” 
“I didn’t follow you!” You tell her, removing yourself from her hold. “I barely even remembered you existed before you draped your arm over me in that café.” 
“You’re a terrible liar.” She scoffs. “You even followed us into that toilet.” 
“No, I didn’t!” You chuckle, crossing your arms in front of you as you smile up at her. “You followed me, though. Couldn’t keep you away!” 
“Mm ..maybe I really should’ve stayed with her instead.” 
“Okaay, that’s enough of that. She’s gone now, you missed your chance with her!" 
“Are you still jealous?” She winks, running her hands down your sides before slinking them back around your waist.  
“I wasn’t jealous. She was just ..all over you. In the toilet, of all places! It was very gross of you both, very unsanitary.” 
“Is that why you wanted to interrupt us?” She smirks, tilting her head very close to yours. “Bumped into me to stop me from catching germs? You’re very cute.” 
“That was an accident.” 
“You’re a terrible liar!” She laughs.  
“You were winding me up! Kissing someone else, what were you playing at?” 
“You went to go kiss men!” She points out.  
“I didn’t kiss any of them, though.” 
“It’s not my fault you were unsuccessful!” 
“I wasn’t unsuccessful!” You giggle, pushing her away from you. “I didn’t want to kiss any of them. I had one person on my mind that night, and I was actually very successful in getting her to kiss me ..eventually.” 
“I was on your mind?” She asks, bouncing her eyebrows as she rests her hands on your hips.  
“You’re so annoying, always so cocky.” You roll your eyes, linking your hands behind her neck before pulling her down to kiss you. “Yes. You were on my mind.” You admit, collapsing your head to her chest. “You’re always on my mind. You’re like a bloody broken record in here.” 
She kisses the top of your head, wrapping her arms around your shoulders. “You’re always on my mind too.” She whispers. “I don’t think I’ve really stopped thinking about you at all since I first saw you in that club.” 
“When you shoved that bloody lime in my face?” You mumble against her.  
“I didn’t shove a lime in your face!” She laughs. “I held it for you, I was being helpful.” 
“Mm ..well, then I owe you two lots of thanks.” You realise, lifting your head to meet her eyes. “One for your ..handy little lime assistance, and one for saving me from that ancient creeper. I am genuinely grateful for the second one.” 
“You don’t need to thank me for either of them.” She tells you. “I was being selfish really.” 
It’s difficult to know just how much time you both managed to kill outside, but the dressing room’s completely empty by the time you two make your way through to it. You sit, patting your hands against your thighs, as Alexia goes for her shower, and you try to keep yourself entertained without her.  
There’s a lot of things for you to look at in the room, lots to take in. There’s a history to the stadium, which should be interesting to have a backstage pass to. It’s a privilege, being in here. Legends have roamed these halls, sporting greats from decades past. It’s very exciting for you to be granted access to it, and yet, none of it’s at all fascinating to you when you know there’s a wet, naked lady in the other room.  
You continue drumming out your frustrations as you try to stop yourself from thinking of Alexia in the shower.  
All on her own. In the shower.   
Alone.  
Showering.  
You really just can’t help yourself.  
She doesn’t take too long to return to you and a loud gasp falls from your lips when she re-emerges.  
“¿Qué?” She winks, and the blush doesn’t even have the courtesy of creeping up on you, you’re just immediately bright red.  
“You’re naked.” You inform her, very quietly, in case she hadn’t already realised. 
“Mhmm.” 
“Wow..” You breathe, gritting your teeth as you try to remain calm.
“Oh? That’s so funny. I seem to remember that being the exact same reaction to the one you had last time!” 
“Heh heh heh!” You draw out slowly, rolling your eyes at her unremitting need to be cocky.  
She leans against the wall in front of you, and it really isn’t very easy to maintain eye contact with her when her body’s on full display in front of you. It doesn’t feel like she’s particularly bothered about your wandering eyes, which is really rather lucky, because you’re not exactly doing it with any level of subtlety.  
This isn’t really helping in keeping all of the dirty thoughts that you’ve been having about her at bay. You’re also going to split your lip open if you keep biting down on it as hard as you are. 
She moves towards you steadily, and your heart starts beating in double time. “You’re staring.” She tells you, yet again, and you nod at her very astute observation skills.  
“You ..are ridiculously beautiful.” You point out, struggling to keep your composure as she steps within reaching distance. “You’re also very dry.” You realise with a frown, trapping your hands under your legs. “You’re supposed to be having a shower so that we can get the hell out of here!” 
“Mm.” She hums, hooking a finger under your chin and tilting your head up to face her. “I was wondering if you might want to keep me company?” She says, and you have to gasp again at her very friendly little suggestion.  
“In the shower with you? While you’re naked?” You grin, and she chuckles, nodding her head.  
“Mhmm. I was hoping you might want to get naked too.” 
“Oof. What an incredibly tempting offer.” You admit, bobbing your legs as you wet your lips. “I just need a few minutes to really think about it.” 
“Mm?” She shakes her head and folds her arms. “You have two seconds before I’m revoking.” 
“Two seconds? Do you see what I mean about you being cocky and annoying? You think I fancy you that badly? That I’m that desperate and needy that I’ll just cave as soon as you—” 
“Uno.” 
“I’m in!” You exclaim, jumping to your feet with embarrassing haste. “I’m in I’m in I’m in I’m in I’m in!” You continue mumbling against her lips to make sure that she doesn’t start her unnecessary counting again.  
You make very light work of pulling both layers off over your head in one swift motion, and Alexia looks rather impressed with your efficiency as she drags her thumb down the middle of your torso. She bites her lip with her eyebrow arching slightly, as she takes you in, and you do feel a little bit proud of yourself.  
“I’ve been going to the gym a lot.” You tell her, tensing slightly to show off your progress.  
“I can tell.” She says, running her thumb back up your stomach.  
“Really?” You grin, trying to ignore the goosebumps that have spread over your skin from her touch. “I slept with this girl whose body made me drool.” You admit, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “Felt like I was letting the side down a bit, so.” 
“I think you’re beautiful naked.” She tells you, and your heart skips a beat as her eyes darken over you.  
“That’s very crazy! That’s the same thing that she kept saying!” 
“Mm?” She loops a finger through your belt buckle, drawing you in closer to her.  
“It does turn out that she’s a professional athlete, though. So, I might have to just settle for being second best.” 
She chuckles at you, shaking her head. “All this ..is for her benefit?” She asks, leaning into you.  
“Mm. Well ..I wasn’t really sure I’d ever find her again,” you admit, letting out a very cautious exhale, “..but no one else has seen me..”
 
It’s a pointed confession from you, carrying a lot of added weight to it. Neither of you owe each other any loyalty from that night and you’d have no real right to be hurt, if she has explored other options. It’s not a test from you, you know it wouldn’t really change things, you did give it a try yourself, to be with someone else.  
It didn’t feel right to you, when it wasn’t with her, you could barely even flirt with another person, but you can’t really have any negative reaction, if Alexia hasn’t had that same struggle. There’s a morbid curiosity in you, perhaps, given the direction your previous relationship went in, and you can only hope, that she will treat your heart more gently than he did.  
She doesn’t know, that you were cheated on, she wouldn’t know, what her own admission would mean to you. You’re offering yourself up unprotected, to a woman who isn’t aware of the bomb she could be setting off inside your chest. It’s a silent plea from you, that this really has been as all-consuming to her, as it has been to you, and it’s very a big ask of someone, who you’ve only met thrice.  
Her eyes pierce through to your soul, as she studies you, and it’s excruciating, waiting for her to give you something. There’s a clear caution in her, of what she’s about to tell you, and you’re not certain if it’s guilt, or sympathy, or something else entirely.  
“Really?” She asks, and her voice is hoarse, as her eyes narrow at you. You can’t trust yourself with words right now, so you only offer her a silent nod, and there’s a glimmer in her eyes at your promise. She’s tentative, and nervous, and the mystery that once shielded her eyes when you first looked into them, is slowly dissolving in front of you. It isn’t guilt or sympathy that she’s feeling, she’s scared of letting you in.  
It’s not unreasonable for her to have her own concerns, regarding you. You were incredibly pig-headed, about being straight, the night that you first met. You told her your relationship had ended only recently, and then you jumped straight into bed with her.  
She can be certain that you’re attracted to her, you haven’t hidden that very well, but she has no real reason to assume that she isn’t a rebound, or a little sexuality test for you. You’re not the only one putting yourself in a vulnerable position here, she also stands to get hurt from this.  
There’s the slightest hint of a smile on her face, as she accepts that you’re telling her the truth. The subtle confession, that the girl who was so relentlessly hunting for some random male company the night that Alexia first met her, hasn’t been on that same hunt since, clearly means as much to her, as a similar confession would mean to you.  
“I haven’t been with anyone else either.” She tells you, and it breathes life back into your lungs.  
You catch her entirely off guard as you press your lips against hers, but she’s very quick to catch up with you. There’s a distinct desperation in the kiss this time, a fervent hunger. An intense desire to make known how much she means to you, to show her that the small question mark that you have over your sexuality, doesn’t extend to any questions about her. You’re in no doubt of your feelings, you’re very certain of what you want.  
Actions speak louder than words, clearly, and you’re definitely not leaving anything up to speculation. The passion in you continues to build and it’s Alexia who’s left breathless, when you finally pull away. You’ve rendered her speechless, and she blinks hard a few times as she lifts her fingers to her lips, before collecting herself again.  
You’re sporting her smirk as she looks back at you, and she rolls her eyes with a shy smile. “Are you getting naked, or what?” She asks impatiently, and a laugh rings out from inside of you.  
“Oof. I love when you’re romantic with me, baby.” 
This might actually be your favourite place to be. Not the random shower stalls, they’re not particularly important to the rush that’s shooting through you. It’s entirely down to the wet and naked company that you have in here.  
Reacquainting yourself with the curves and the ridges of her body, having her pressed up against you as her hands explore yours. It’s exciting just being back with her, your body’s on fire under her touch, your soul’s been reawakened, and none of the scenarios you kept playing through in your head, could ever really compare to having the real thing in front of you again.  
“Is your leg still sore?” You ask, placing kisses along Alexia’s jawline as she leans her back against the tiles.  
“I’ve already told you, that it’s fi—“ 
“Because I was thinking,” you interrupt, cutting her off with a kiss to her lips, “we should probably take some precautions.” You suggest, and her eyes narrow as she smiles slyly at you. “We wouldn’t want to aggravate it..” 
“Mm.” She nods, trapping her tongue between her teeth. “Are you offering to get down on your knees for me?” She asks you knowingly, tangling her fingers in your hair.  
“Mhmm ..for the good of the team.” You offer, feigning herosim as you kiss along her chest. “For football.” 
“Mm ..well, I did score the winning goal.” She reminds you.  
“Well, exactly, and that deserves to be celebrated.” 
She chuckles, as she pulls you back into her by your neck, catching you a little off guard as her tongue re-enters your mouth. “I really have missed you.” She murmurs against your lips.  
“Mm but like ..as a person,” you check, pulling back slightly, “not just my bloody tongue?” You pout softly up at her as she giggles with a nod. “Because I’m quite nice company for you to have around ..I’m very cute and funny.” 
“You’re adorable and hilarious.” She agrees, running a finger up the middle of your torso. It sends goosebumps all along your body again, which she’s acutely aware of as that smirk is very much back on her face.  
“But in like a sexy way.” You tell her, trying to ignore the heat she’s sent through you, and she continues to nod her head as she bites her lip. “Like a ..'I should take that girl home with me and do dirty things to her' kind of way."
“Is that what you’d like me to do to you?” She asks, with her eyebrow arching.  
“After our shower ..yes please.” 
“Okay.” She promises, tangling her fingers even further as she kisses you. “Then drop to your knees.” She instructs you, and much like a loyal little soldier, you’re very quick to do as you’re told.  
She’s never really been quite so assertive with you, and a mild moan escapes you from it, as you traverse down her body, leaving a trail of kisses as you make your descent. She tightens her grip on you as she tilts your head to look back up at her, sending a dull pleasure running through you, before she guides you to the place where she’s wanting you most.  
It ends up being one of the longest showers of your life, and you’re lucky to be leaving the stadium together before you both get locked inside of it.  
Discussion turns to sleeping arrangements as you walk the length of the parking lot. Neither of you have any intentions of going home without the other, despite the lateness of the hour, and it feels like there’s an obvious choice for where you’ll end up staying. The hotel isn’t the best place for you tonight. The receptionist would undoubtedly recognise the company you’re keeping, and despite Em being out for the night, she isn’t exactly known for hanging around with her lady-friends the morning after.  
You don’t really want to have to kick Alexia out super early, and Em catching the pair of you tangled up in bed together when she gets back, also doesn’t sound ideal.  
“Are you scared of dogs?” Alexia asks as she opens her car door for you.  
“No..” 
“Then we’ll go back to mine.” 
“You told me Nala was a Pomeranian?” 
“She is.” 
“Well ..then even if I was scared of dogs, I probably wouldn’t be afraid of her.” You giggle, placing a kiss to her temple before getting into your seat.  
“I was just checking.” She tells you as she joins you in the car.  
“Is she unfriendly?” 
“No, she is a very good judge of character, though.” She warns, with a smile that’s mildly disconcerting.  
“Oh ..so it’s a red flag if she takes a disliking to me?” 
“Mhmm. I’d have to kick you out!” 
It doesn’t feel like a fully-fledged threat from her, but there is a tone to her voice, that tells you she’s not completely joking either.
She starts up her car and rests her hand on your leg as she sets off from the stadium. Her fingers trace circles on the inside of your thigh and you have to link her hand with yours as she starts trailing up, to stop her from doing too much when the goosebumps quickly form along your skin. 
“I’m sorry,” she offers, “you don’t like it?” 
“I might like it a bit too much.” You chuckle, placing a kiss to the back of her hand, before placing it back in your lap.  
It’s hard to stop your eyes from drooping a little in the car, you really are very exhausted. You rest your head against your seatbelt and dig the nails of your free hand into your leg to try and stop you from falling asleep. You have limited time with Alexia as it is, and you don’t want to miss out on any precious minutes.  
There’s something unfortunately hypnotic about the glow from the streetlamps above you, though, which isn’t super helpful with your plight. The light pulses through the windows as Alexia drives, and you give your head a shake when you find your eyelids getting too heavy.  
“Are you okay?” She asks, a little alarmed at your sudden spasm.  
“Mhmm.” You mumble, stifling a yawn. “I really need you to keep talking to me, please. I don’t want to fall asleep.” 
“What do you want to talk about?” 
“Anything.” 
She stares out at the road in front of her, losing herself in thought for a moment. She raises your hand to her lips to place a lingering kiss to your fingers, and she bops her other hand on the steering wheel.  
“I asked after your initial.” She tells you whimsically, and your face scrunches, not at all following what she means.  
It was a very weird thing for her to say to you, it’s not entirely down to your sleepiness that you didn’t understand.  
“Sorry?” You ask, and her grip on your hand tightens. 
“I was back in London last week ..I went back to that club.” She reveals, and your heart misses a beat as she speaks. “I was hoping, maybe you’d be in there again ..looking for a man.” She rolls her eyes and drums her fingers over the wheel. “I was worried ..that you might have already found one, when you weren’t there.” You place another kiss to the back of her hand, and her fingers twitch as they link through yours. “I think we made a big impression on that bartender.” She giggles.   
“Bless him. We really did put on quite the show.” 
“Mhmm! He was there again, when I went. I asked him about you, and he said he definitely remembered us, but he told me he really had no idea who you were.” A sigh escapes her lips, and she taps at the steering wheel again. “I couldn’t stay in there for very long.” She admits. “It gave me a headache. It was bad enough being in the same hotel. I did have a roommate this time, so ..we really did end up playing cards together, but ..I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Knowing you had to be near, but I’d never be able to find you.” 
“I could’ve gone to that game.” You tell her thoughtfully. You stroke your thumb along the side of her index finger and clench your jaw. “Em invited me, and I told her to bore off.” You explain. “If I’d have had any idea ..I’d have been front row for you. I hate that we missed out on time together.” 
“We’re together now.” She points out quickly.  
“Only until tomorrow night ..then we’re right back where we started.” 
“Not really.” She assures you, giving your hand a squeeze. “We know who we are now. We know where we are, we’ll swap numbers.” 
“And we’ll what, make a proper go of it? With all of these miles between us?” 
Her jaw tightens slightly as she continues staring out in front of her. “If you also want to.” She says softly.  
“I’ve never really loved the idea of doing long-distance.” 
“You don’t think it works?” She asks you, and her voice cracks slightly.  
“I know that it can. It’s just ..not ideal.” You sigh.  
“You’d miss me too much?” She smirks, and you shake your head with a small smile.  
“Maybe.” You admit. “Why’d you have to be bloody Spanish?” 
“You’d prefer me to come from London?” 
“Yes! I mean ..you wouldn’t sound as lovely, but at least you’d be local.” You point out. “It’d be far easier.” 
“Mm.” She mumbles. “Well ..you could have been from Barcelona, that would’ve been helpful.” She pulls the car up outside of her home, and you stare out at it through the window. “Come on.” She tells you, patting your thigh as she opens her door. “We won’t have to worry about any of this if Nala doesn’t like you!” 
Alexia greets you at your side of the car and takes your hand as she leads you to the door. “¡Buena suerte!” She whispers, and you’re not 100% sure what it means, as she gives you a very dramatic look of dread before she pushes through the entrance. 
It feels like she’s really trying to worry you, but it would be very harsh to send you back to your hotel with your tail between your legs because her dog’s barked at a stranger. You’re not exactly Dr Dolittle but are you a fan of animals, and you’d be quite upset yourself if Nala didn’t take a liking to you.  
You’re attacked, as soon as you step through the door. It’s not an uncontrolled ravaging that you receive, Nala certainly isn’t rabid. It’s a very excitable licking that you’re greeted with, it would seem that dogs really are like their owners. It really isn’t the big and scary personality test that Alexia likes to pretend it is at all, but she might have already known it wasn’t going to be a dealbreaker when she pushed you into the house with this vicious scary animal before her.  
“Well, shit.” She sighs, looking down at you as you play with her dog on the floor, and the rare expletive from her mouth rings very cutely in your ears.  
“What?” You giggle, craning your neck to meet her gaze.  
“Now we might have to worry about it.” 
You lift Nala into your arms and rise to your feet. A toothy smile spreads across your face as you move towards Alexia, and there’s a lot of affection for you being carried in her eyes.  
“She quite likes me.” You point out, and Alexia nods her head, trapping her bottom lip between her teeth. “And she doesn’t even know what I’m saying to her.” You place a kiss to the top of Nala’s head. “You might have to teach me some Spanish ..so we can have a proper conversation.” You tell her, bobbing Nala in your arms as you bury your face in her fur. “It’d make my trips out here a bit easier too.” 
Alexia’s eyes widen slightly at your casual words of intent, and she beams at you as you give her dog another kiss. “You do want to give us a go?” She asks.  
“Mhmm. I think I’d be crazy not to.” 
“It could be a lot of work.” She tells you, and you nod, smiling up her. 
“I know ..and I really think you might be worth it.” 
A full smile takes over her face as she quickly takes Nala from your arms and places her back down on the floor, before giving you a quick kiss. She pulls you through with her to let Nala do her business outside, and something shiny on the wall draws your eye. 
“These are all your trophies?”  
“..Some of them.” 
“Blimey!” You chuckle, as you move closer to them all. You keep a small distance, crossing your arms to make sure you don’t accidentally knock anything, and you study one, in particular, that’s caught your attention. “You made my sister cry, when you got this one.” You tell her, pointing to her World Cup medal. “I thought something terrible had happened when she rang me.” 
“I’ll have to apologise to her," she winks, “when we meet.” 
“Mm. You’ll have to apologise for today’s match, too.” You point out with a grin. “You’ve ruined her life a few times, I think.” 
Nala makes her way back inside, brushing against your legs as she scurries off to who knows where, and a finger tapping at your shoulder, distracts you from your perusal of Alexia’s trophy cabinet. She smiles as you turn to face her, and she runs her finger down your nose before giving you a quick kiss. 
“Oh my god!” Escapes your lips in a breathy giggle as Alexia lifts you into her arms and you wrap your legs around her waist. “Hi.” 
“Hi!”  
It’s a passionate kiss that she gives you, and any sense of tiredness that was taking over your body a few minutes ago, is very quickly forgotten as you lose yourself in her.
“I can walk.” You remind her, as she carries you towards her bedroom. 
“I don’t care.” 
You’re almost winded when your back hits the mattress, as she flings you onto it, a little carelessly. You’d probably be more stroppy about it, if she didn’t pull her shirt off before joining you on the bed. She didn’t bother putting a bra on after your shower and you’re very easily distracted.  
It is her actual eyes you find yourself fascinated by this time, though. They really are very beautiful, and there’s far less mystery lingering in them now. It’s tenderness you see in them as she looks over you, silent intimacy, devotion, and the idea of eyes being the window to the soul has never seemed more true to you.  
There’s an honesty in her eyes that far exceeds any words she could ever say to you, but you’re fairly sure you know what she’s thinking. You’re almost certain, in fact, and you feel compelled to confess something to her yourself. 
“You. are. staring. again.” She tells you, punctuating each word with an increasingly deeper kiss.  
“Mhmm.” You concede, and your hands rest on her hips as she smiles down at you. You swallow down carefully as your eyes meet hers, and your heart skips a few more beats. “I really think ..that I might be falling for you.” You profess, and her pupils dilate as she smiles down at you. “Is that ridiculous? To fall for someone so quickly?” 
“I don’t think so.” She says, her brow furrowing slightly. “Sometimes you just know.” 
“Would it be okay ..if I did start falling?” 
“Mhmm.” She runs her finger under your chin, rubbing her thumb over your bottom lip, before leaning herself down over you. “I’m falling for you, too.” She tells you, before pulling you into her by your neck.  
It’s different, from the sex you’ve had with other people before, being with Alexia. It never seems to be quick, and it doesn’t feel one-sided. You’re not left wanting after it, it isn’t unfulfilling. There's a continual desperate desire in you, to have her be with you, and to make sure that she’s also feeling good. It’s not a chore, and it isn’t something that she’s demanding from you.  
There’s passion between you, affection, and it’s an equal offering from you both. It’s exciting, it’s fun, and it puts all your past experiences to shame. There’s an innocence in your enjoyment of each other, it really isn’t just a physical act between the two of you. It’s a bearing of your soul to each other, every time, and it’s no wonder at all, that you’re falling as quickly as you are. 
There’s far more confidence in you now. You’re not having to follow Alexia’s lead quite so much. You know her body, what she likes you doing to it, and you savour every second of having her back under you. Every whimper and moan that you’re able to coax from her, how she feels around you, the taste of her on your tongue. Having her able to cry out your actual name this evening, has also set your soul on fire. Hearing it echo around in the showers, having her moan it like a quiet secret into your ear, as she grips at the sheets beneath her. 
Alexia does have you entirely at her mercy when she chooses to take back control, and whether she really did appreciate you being so selfless by caring about her injury in the shower, or the fact that Nala took to you quite so quickly, you can’t be certain, but you’ve definitely done something to have her wanting to treat you extra nicely, before you remind her that she doesn’t need to be quite so gentle with you.  
This isn’t your first time; you’re very much wanting her to have her wicked way with you. 
It satisfies the burning inside of you, completely, satiating your hunger, and happily leaving you a little worn out after everything. She’s in a similar state of exhaustion, panting when she collapses back down onto you. So, you can probably give yourself a little pat on the back for your own efforts with her.  
“Are you okay?” She checks with you, as you try to steady your breathing. She places a kiss to your neck in such a way, that you know she’s leaving another mark that you’ll need to cover up, and you run your fingers down her sides.   
“Mhmm ..I think you’ve wiped me out.” You admit, lazily kissing along her shoulder.   
“I think you’ve done the same!” She tells you, chuckling, as she rubs her thumb over your neck, admiring the new bruise that she’s decorated you with.  
She watches over you for a moment, and you raise your fingers to your face.  
“Do I have something on me?” 
“No..” 
“Well ..now you’re staring.” 
“Mhmm.”  
“Are you okay?” 
“Do you want children?” She asks you, rather abruptly, and you have to chuckle at the timing of her question.  
“What?” 
“Children.” She repeats.  
“..I don’t know what the Spanish education system has taught you, Ale ..but what we just did to each other ..isn’t resulting in any babies.” 
“Idiota,” she chuckles, “but do you want them?” 
“I don’t want you to go out stealing any.” 
“Y/N!” She giggles, holding herself up over you. “I’m being serious.” 
She shakes her head at you, and you grin up at her. “I think I do, yeah. Eventually, with the right person.” 
A faint smile spreads over her face and she leans down for a kiss.  
“Do you?” You question, and she nods her head, before kissing you again.  
“Two.” She tells you. “One of each. A girl first.” 
“I’ve always thought I’d have a girl first.” You admit. “Though ..I figured I’d just have two girls ..a little boy would be cute.” 
“Mhmm!” She hums against you, linking her hands with yours as she pushes herself back up.  
“That's a very intense question,” you point out, “before we’ve even been on our first date. I should be running for the hills.” 
“Do you want to?” 
“No,” you admit, “but you’ve got me picturing a family with you, and we’ve only hung out three times!” 
“Is that what we’re doing?” She questions with a smile. “We’re hanging out?” 
“What would you call it?” You ask her, and her eyes glitter above you.  
“I don’t know,” she says, “but I don’t hang out with anyone else like this.” 
“That’s a relief!” You chuckle, and she bites her lip as she shakes her head again.
“I think I want to be doing more than just hanging out with you.” She tells you, and a small smirk pulls at your lips.  
“Well ..if our date goes well tomorrow, and we keep agreeing to meet up and go out with each other. Then ..we’d probably be dating.” 
“Would that scare you, dating a woman?” 
“Not when the woman’s you. I don’t think I’d ever shut up bragging about it.” 
“That’s a lot of pressure on you, then.” She points out with a smile. “To make sure our first date goes well.” 
“I know, and I don’t know Barcelona very well.” You remind her. “I wouldn’t know where I can take you, where you won’t get papped.” 
She nods in understanding and leans down for a kiss. “Then, will you go on a date with me?” She asks, with a very knowing smile. “I can arrange our Barcelona dates, if you sort the ones in London.” 
She holds out her pinky in front of you, for you to solidify your promise with her, and you place a kiss to your linked fingers, before losing yourself in her eyes again. “Deal.” You tell her softly, and a thrill flows right through your body as she collapses back down onto you.  
It stirs in your head, as you realise that this is what it should actually feel like to be with someone. An excitement inside of you when you know you’re about to see them. A constant wish to be near to them, a genuine enjoyment of their company. A want to share your life with them, to talk about a future together without a sense of fear, or dread about it.  
It’s what you could have gone on to miss out on, for your whole life, without her.  
There’s a comfort in you, when you’re with her, a lazy pleasure in having her body resting on top of yours. The way her fingers trace over your every curve, how her lips light tiny fires on your skin. Each caressing touch from her is one that you crave. Every kiss, the way she laughs. Her relentless teasing, her continual cockiness.  
It’s all something you want no other person to be lucky enough to experience the way that you’ve been able to. It’s all what combines together to make up Alexia. You want her, completely. Body and soul.
And it hits you, like a hammer to the chest. 
You’re already in love with this woman.  
“Are you okay?” She asks. “Your heart’s beating very quickly.” 
“Mhmm ..I’m fine.” 
She props herself up on her elbows over you and tilts her head with a raised eyebrow. 
“I’m a terrible liar?” You realise, and she softly nods her head. 
“You can talk to me.”  
“I know, I just ..I’m just going to miss you, after tomorrow.” 
“We can’t do that to ourselves.” She tells you quickly. “We still have the whole day to spend together.” 
“I know, I just—” 
She mutes you with a kiss and shakes her head. “No.” She says. “We’re not doing that. We can worry about it later. I’m taking you out tomorrow. You can’t go into our first date feeling miserable, the rest of our dates rest on the success of this one. You go into this date worrying about saying goodbye, we’ll never have any other da—” 
You cut her off this time.
It seemed like she was really about to start spiralling almost as pathetically as you have been doing all day. What a pair of losers you are together. Maybe you are perfect for each other. 
“Okay.” You tell her, nodding as you wipe a tear from the corner of her eye. “Okay, I’m sorry.” 
“We have one more day together,” she whispers, “we’re not wasting it being sad.” 
It’s an unfortunate curiosity, that sleep has been so hard for you to come by when you’ve been so desperate for it, and now, it’s threatening to steal you away when you fancy nothing more than staying awake forever. You don’t want to go to sleep, but a yawn that you’re not quite quick enough to stifle, lets Alexia know that you’re struggling a little to stay up with her.  
“Shit.” You mutter, throwing your arm over your face. “You caught that didn’t you?” 
“Mhmm. You can go to sleep.” She assures you, but you shake your head with a petulant pout.  
“I’m not tired.” You tell her, and she giggles, placing a kiss to your forehead before rolling off the side of you.  
“You really are a terrible liar.” She says, opening her arms to welcome you into her, and you don’t waste much time nestling yourself in her embrace.  
“I don’t want to sleep.” You admit to her chest, and she runs her fingers through your hair. “Not while I’m with you.” 
“I’ll still be here when you wake up.” 
“You’d better be.” You tell her. 
She throws her leg over your hip, drawing you in even closer to her, and you run your fingers up her thigh. 
“Are you quite comfy?”
“Mhmm! I’m not having you roll away from me again in the morning.” 
“I really wouldn’t want to.” You murmur, placing a kiss to her chest, as you snuggle closer against her.  
“Well, now you can’t!” She tells you. “I have very strong legs.” 
“I know, you do.” You chuckle sleepily. “I’ve had them clamped around my head a few times.” 
Another small yawn escapes you as you close your eyes, finally accepting defeat, and you place another lazy kiss to her chest as you begin drifting off.  
“Te quiero, Y/N.” Alexia whispers. “Dulces sueños.” 
“You sound really very lovely ..and I’m really bloody sorry ..but I don’t know what you’re saying to me.” You remind her, and you can feel her nodding her head gently. 
“Sweet dreams.” She translates, tightening her arms around you, as you struggle to stifle yet another little yawn.  
“Sweet dreams, Ale.” You manage to mumble in reply, before sleep fully consumes you, and you’re finally able to rest.
848 notes · View notes
bedsyandco · 7 months
Text
clingy - t. zegras
summary: trevor tries to convince you to skip your morning workout and stay in bed with him
note: just me trying to get some of my writing juju back. Oh to have sleepy trevor trying to coax me back into bed. been in my trevor era lately. I hope you like it <3
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You sigh watching the coffee slowly pour into your cup. You desperately needed the caffeine after getting up this early. It was 7am on a Saturday and you wanted nothing more than to get back in bed and sleep in 'til noon, but you couldn't. You and Trevor were attending a friend's birthday lunch that would probably go until late afternoon, and if you didn't go to the gym now, you wouldn't have time to go at all.
Usually you wouldn't be opposed to just skipping a gym session, especially if you had plans but you had already skipped 2 days this week and you didn't want to skip another. A creak in the door made you turn your head towards the left where a very sleepy Trevor was shuffling his way over to you, yawning and hair sticking in every direction.
The sight made you giggle slightly and you turned your attention back to the coffee, noticing the cup was filled. You put the lid on your cup, just as your boyfriend's arms snake around your waist from behind, pulling you against him tightly and burying his face in the crook of your neck.
"I'm sorry if I woke you up baby," you say, genuinely feeling bad, knowing the start of the season is always an adjustment and he needed his rest.
"come back to bed" he mumbles against your skin, his soft breaths and ends of his hair tickling you slightly.
"I can't. I have to go to the gym" you say, ignoring his hmm of protest, trying to grab your cup in front of you but Trevor was faster and snatched the cup, holding it above his head before you could take it.
You turn around glancing up at the cup that you couldn't reach and gave your boyfriend a deadpan stare. "Really? You're so immature Trev." you say slightly annoyed and he grins. You are so hot when you are mad.
"Babe, you have the hottest body I've ever seen. You don't need to go to the gym." he says, voice slightly groggy since he hasn't been up that long. He was still holding the cup above his head even though you hadn't made an attempt to grab it.
"It's not about how I look. It's about being active. Sometimes I barely get my 10k steps in a day, not all of us play a sport for a living, remember?" you ask but he's not really paying attention, taking a sip of your coffee and immediately scrunching his nose up. He knows you don't take any sugar, but he still drinks it every time, thinking it's gonna taste differently.
"There's other ways you can be active. So many other ways. Come back to bed and I'll show you." he says putting the cup on the counter, hands falling to your hips and pulling you closer to him.
"You're insufferable." you protest, voice fading a little when he starts laying little kisses on your collarbone.
"Come on. I'll make it worth it. I promise you'll burn more calories with me than you will in the gym and you'll have so much more fun doing it." he whispers, his hands sliding down to grab your ass.
You bite your lip, thinking about it for a second before pulling his head down to meet yours in a kiss. He picks you up as you wrap your legs around his waist, carrying you back to bed. It's not like you weren't active at all, right?
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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 2 months
Text
My Favorite Pet Pt 2
BDSM Preformer!Fem!Reader! X subby! Wanda
Summary: You find yourself alone in bed, but that's okay because you can smell breakfast
Warnings: None! Here you all go have some fluffy morning after loving.
Word Count: 1,570
A/N: I promise pt 3 is going to be full of smut once more, but I wanted to explore their morning after.
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You woke up to the smell of bacon stretching out on your king sized bed. Your back is popping after a week of staying on Kate and Yelena’s couch. You fell asleep on the couch, right? Did Wanda move both of you in here?
You got up feeling cold from only wearing a tank top and shorts to bed, grabbing one of your throw blankets and making your way out to the kitchen to find Wanda there, swaying her hips to music as she made breakfast. You smirked and watched her for a moment before speaking up,
“Damn I could get used to this.” you startle her a bit with your voice, but she sees you smiling. You saw the blush on her face as you walked over, wrapping your arms around her waist and looking up.
“I tried waking you up earlier, but you refused so I figured I'd start making breakfast for you Mommy.” Her voice was so soft right now. You were an absolute menace to try and wake in the morning.
“You don't have to call me that outside of the club or the bedroom. Please just call me by my name.” you lean up on your tiptoes to kiss her.
“Are you sure? All my previous-” You cut her off before she can finish that sentence.
“Wanda. I'm sure.” you tell her putting emphasis on her name. “Outside those spaces you're Wanda and I'm Y/N. We are two people and not just our roles.” She simply nods and you kiss her again.
“Okay well Y/N I've made breakfast I hope you like bacon, eggs, and pancakes.” Wanda smiled and so did you.
“I love those things. I'll grab the juices and milk.” You untangled yourself from her grabbing out the pitchers for the two of you.
As the two of you sat and ate you talked about a lot of things and got to know each other better. Conversation with her seemed to flow easily between the two of you. You had never felt this way before. You were typically a guarded person especially after her though opening up didn’t even feel like you were. Instead it felt more like getting reacquainted with an old friend.
“So you have this place because of working at the club right?” Wanda asked looking around my spacious penthouse.
“Yeah Tasha helped me get it originally since it was close to the club and honestly I came from nothing. My parents were poor when I was a kid, but it was by choice. Neither of my parents wanted to work and didn't care that my brother and I were starving. I took care of my brother and raised him. He lived with me for a bit and still comes by, but he went off and became a businessman. He's climbed the ladder to almost being the CEO of the company he works for.” You’re reminded of just how different you and your brother turned out.
“You must be proud of him.” you smile, pushing around the little food left on your plate.
“I am. Sometimes I wonder if he feels the same about me.” You admit solemnly.
“I'm sure he understands that without you doing this he wouldn't have been able to be where he is. You paid for his college right?”
“Yeah through the fucking teeth…” you definitely didn't want to mention fucking the dean to get him in or lowering his tuition rates.
“Then I'm sure he understands. My brother on the other hand is just as bad as me. He creates, designs, and builds BDSM gear like beds and crosses and shit. He's really good at it and runs his own business with a couple of his buddies.” Wanda told you.
“Hmmm I'd love to meet him. I have a spare room I've always wanted to turn into a playroom.” Wanda blushed a scarlet red. You wanted to keep teasing her, but your phone was going off,
“Ughhhhhhhhh!” you picked it up quickly changing your tone, “Hi Tasha. You’re interrupting my breakfast so please make it quick.”
“Wow rude and here I thought you had a good night.” she responded, but you could tell she was smiling.
“Oh I did so good in fact it has continued into breakfast so again if you could make it quick.” I snip at her really not wanting to do this until later.
“Of course it has. Finally back on the horse I see. Well that’s good, anyways since you’re both there I expect to see you tonight.” you rolled your eyes.
“Of course you do. Were people asking for us?” you put the call on speaker.
“Of course they were. You two gave the best performance last night. You’re lucky I’m nice and let you keep all those tips. Most places would take some from you especially with how much you made last night.” you chuckled at her words. As tough as Tasha could be on you she was also soft; she knew you too good at this point.
“Well thank you Tasha for taking such good care of us. When will we be preforming tonight?”
“Opener and then a solo from each of you later in the night once aftercare is done let me know and we’ll work you in.” You could hear the sound of her typing in the background probably trying to figure out the schedule of performers for tonight.
“Okay Tasha. We’ll be there for 5.”
“Okay once your solos are done you’re free to go tonight because Friday I want you two to do multiple shows.” You groan a bit doing multiple shows was always hard for you. It takes a lot out of you to go from Dom to not to Dom again.
“Fine...” You replied reluctantly to your best friend. You knew she heard your tone, but chose not to call you out on it.
“Okay I’ll see you two tonight and I’m glad you found someone again Y/N/N.” You rolled your eyes. Trying to take the phone off speaker before Wanda could hear it.
“Yup kay bye.” You hung up, throwing your phone over onto the couch.
“What’s wrong Y/N?” Wanda asked concerned.
“Nothing amor. I just get frustrated sometimes. It’s not that I don’t like this job because I do. It’s the only thing I’ve ever known it’s just difficult for me sometimes. I have to get into the right headspace. Also I’m not going to lie doing more than one show in a night can be exhausting and I want to make sure you have a good time. I’ve just never been good with multi show nights.” Wanda reached across the table, holding your hand,
“Everything is going to work out fine because this time you’ll have me.” She was smiling, biting her lip as her nose scrunched up.
“You are absolutely beautiful amor. I am so lucky...” You let your words trail off. All Wanda is, is my stage partner, nothing more, and you feel yourself curl into yourself ever so slightly as you retract your hand.
You see her searching your face as to why you pulled away, “Sorry did I do or say something wrong?” Wanda asked and you felt a pit in your stomach.
“No, no meu amor. I just get stuck in my own head. I’m sorry. I have a lot going on with myself and sometimes I’m my own worst enemy. If I ever start pulling away just pull me back harder please?” Wanda is speechless for a moment. “I-if you want to that is you don’t-“ Wanda pushes aside her plate and then your own, climbing on the dining room table and making her way into your lap.
“I’ll pull you so deep you’ll be drowning in me and forget all your problems.” Wanda husked against your lips, making you lean up, chasing her lips for a kiss as she keeps pulling back until you’re whining,
“Wands...” You were pouting and looking up at her, “Please?” She smirked and finally let you kiss her, melting against her as you sighed into it. You needed this, you needed her. You need her? How are you so deep already? How did she do this to you?
“Y/N/N?”
“Hmmm?” You let your eyes flit open and look up at her.
“I’ve never met anyone like you, never had a partner like you. Before last night I thought everything I’d experienced with a Dom was normal...I don’t think...no I know I don’t ever want to go back to that. I know it’s a little forward of me, but would you please continue to be my dom as well as a partner I can rely on?” You reached up and cupped her cheeks.
“If we’re being forward then I’d like to answer your question with a question. I would like to be those things and more so would you be my girlfriend?” You ask, feeling so nervous until she crashes her lips into yours, her hips rolling against you, moaning out at the feeling as you grab her hips.
“Yes. Yes I’d love that.” She husks out against your lips and this is a moment you want to remember forever, every part of it. The sound of her voice, the faint smell of breakfast, her vanilla perfume, the way her lips taste and feel against you, the pressure of her hips and your nails digging into them.
309 notes · View notes
nicoline1998enilocin · 9 months
Note
I FOUND IT, I FOUND THE IDEA I NEEDED FOR A REQUEST.
Oke Listen...
Ready?!
Bucky and Reader take care of a baby and Bucky holds the little toddler in his arms and takes care of that sweet little one. And the toddler is absolutely in love with Bucky and his metal arm like Reader is.
Please with sooo much fluff as much as you can?🥺🥺
Babysitting duty
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PAIRING | Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Female!Reader
WORD COUNT | 1K
SUMMARY | Andy has asked you to babysit for him while he is away on trial, and you couldn't be more excited about it. You didn't tell Bucky since it was such last minute, but he absolutely adores the little girl you're babysitting, and couldn't be happier to see how good you are with kids.
WARNING(S) | None.
A/N | Thank you so so much for this sweet request, I've tried to shove as much tooth rottingly sweet fluff in here as I possibly could! I hope it is everything you've thought of and more, and I can't wait to see what other ideas you come up with in the future! 🖤
Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💜
Divider is made by @firefly-graphics
Main Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist
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You're getting ready to go grocery shopping for Bucky's return from his mission when your phone suddenly rings. You look at it and see it's Andy Barber, your good friend, so you pick it up.
''Hi Andy, is everything okay?'' you ask, wondering why he would call you in the middle of the day.
''Hi Y/N, yeah, no, uhm… I know this is a little… last minute, but could you watch Ivy for a few days? I must go to trial with my client and can't take her. I'll pay you double what I would usually pay you as compensation,'' he tells you, and you just smile.
''It's okay, Andy, you don't have to pay me double. I'd absolutely love to watch Ivy. When do you need me to pick her up?'' you ask.
''You're a true lifesaver right now; I was honestly running out of options here,'' he sighs. ''If you could pick her up tonight, you would be a huge help,''.
''Alright, I'll see you around 6 PM, okay? That way, she can sleep at my house, and we don't have to wake her for transport,''.
With that, you change your grocery shopping plans; instead of buying food for 2 people, you're getting it for 3, so little Ivy can eat too. The shopping trip is going smoothly; before you know it, you're back home.
You already went to the attic to get the foldable bed you use every time you babysit and set it up in your and Bucky's bedroom.
Next are some toys you like to keep around, even though Andy always lets Ivy bring some.
When all that is done, the apartment is getting clean and tidy; when that's done, it's time to pick up the little girl.
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When you arrive at Andy's house, he quickly opens the door with his daughter on his hip, tightly holding her favorite stuffed animal in anticipation of who's ringing their doorbell.
''Y/N, please come in! You're an absolute lifesaver right now,'' Andy says as he lets you into the house.
''It's not a problem at all; you know how much Bucky and I love this little Munchkin right here,'' you say as you pinch her cheeks softly.
She reaches her arms out for you, and you take her from Andy's arms, so he can get all her things ready.
''Are you ready to come to sleep with me and Uncle Bucky for a few days? You say, "We have missed you so much!'' she nods.
''Sweep with you,'' she repeats.
''Yes, sleep with me! Good job!'' you praise her as you walk over to Andy, who is just grabbing some clothes for her.
''How long do you think you'll be gone for?'' you ask, eyeing the pile of clothes he's packing. ''You know we have a washing machine, right? You don't need to pack up her entire wardrobe,'' you chuckle.
''I'm sorry, it's just… It's so last minute, and I feel bad that I had to ask you like that,'' he says, but you reassure him it's okay.
''We don't mind, Andy, not even in the slightest.''
When everything is packed up, and Andy has said his goodbyes to Ivy, you head to your house. She is already sleeping in the car, so you transfer her to the bed when you arrive.
You turned on the baby monitor and grabbed a glass of wine in the kitchen, sitting down with your drink and a book, enjoying your evening.
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''Are you excited to pick up Uncle Bucky today?'' you ask her after you dress her in one of the outfits Andy packed.
''Unnel Buck!'' she says, not quite getting the hang of the word ''Uncle'' yet, but it is absolutely adorable.
You arrive at the Compound a little earlier than expected, and the Avengers aren't back yet, so you decide to wait in Bucky's room - which he barely uses since the two of you moved into your apartment together - with Ivy.
When FRIDAY showed that the Quinjet was about to land, you approached the hangar, ready to greet Bucky and all the other Avengers.
Ivy had spotted him before you did and was wildly waving her arms to be held by him.
''Hi, little troublemaker! It's nice to see you again!'' Bucky said after he picked up his pace a little and jogged over to where the two of you were standing.
''Andy had to go to trial for a few days, so I agreed to watch her for him while he's gone,'' you explain, and Bucky takes her out of your arms.
''Unnel Buck!'' she coos as she pets his long hair, earning her a big smile from the super soldier.
''Hi, little Ivy, I missed you! Are you ready to come home with me and Auntie Y/N?'' he asks, and she coos a yes at him.
When the three of you arrive at the car, Bucky puts her in the car seat before moving to the passenger seat, dropping into it with all his weight.
''Arm, arm, arm!'' she says as the three of you are back at your apartment, and you both know she's entirely in awe by Bucky's arm.
''Arm…'' she says softly as Bucky holds out his Vibranium hand for her to hold and to look over before her gaze moves over to the rest of his arm.
''I still think it's the cutest thing ever, how much she loves your arm! She has good taste,'' you say with a wink, making Bucky blush slightly.
''Alright, I believe it is time for a nap, troublemaker,'' he says before scooping her up with the metal arm and bringing her to bed.
He walks back into the kitchen when she's asleep and gives you a proper hello. He grabs your cheeks in his hands and brings your face to his, meeting in the middle for a deep, passionate kiss.
''I love you so much, doll. I can't wait to have a little one of our own one day,'' he says, pulling you closer and capturing your lips again.
541 notes · View notes
overnowsfcb · 4 months
Text
even if they talk; trent alexander-arnold smau
pairing: trent alexander-arnold x nepobaby knowles!model!reader
face claim: taylor russell
summary: people will criticize everything, but there is someone who will never fail you, and that was trent.
warnings: mostly fluff, angst (bit of hate and critics towards reader).
note: this is my first smau i hope it's not too bad! i would love to hear your thoughts or suggestions, also requests are open! — venus 🫂💐🫧
INSTAGRAM!
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liked by ynknowles, virgilvandijk and 1,199,023 others
trentarnold66 🤷🏽‍♂️
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user1 the best out there
user2 unreal 🔥🔥🔥
user3 let's go reds!
ynknowles congrats! is there some secret routine helping you before the game to be that amazing? 🤔
↪trentarnold66 Maybe.. But I can't share any details here 🤫
↪user4 ARE WE MISSING SOMETHING????
↪user5 whats so interesting??? share with the class????
user6 yn and trent interacting??? i- wow
↪user7 if i hadnt seen it with my own eyes id say everyones tripping
user8 are they implying something or is just me
↪user9 I THOUGHT EXACTLY THE SAME
user10 YOU BETTER EXPLAIN YOURSELF ynknowles
user11 LET HER COOK
↪user12 girl i think they've already had a feast
user13 wtf is yn doing here
↪user14 she ruins everything good
user15 i hope trent doesnt distract w this... cant even say it
↪user16 yeah we know what she did to her exes so...
↪user17 put some respect on beyoncé's daughter's name and inform yourself before talking, mind you
NEWS!
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comments
user trent can do so much better than yn. she just wants to stay relevant
user shes using trent because she has no talents to show
user i've heard rumors about how yn's exes have ended. trent, watch your back, my man.
↪user you talk as if she murdered them??? plus she never did anything to any of her exes you're just talking bc it's free
user i just hope that trent can open his eyes asap
user what a disappointment from trent. i thought he was better than dating a spoiled kid with too much time and money in her hands
user y'all are just jealous that she has what many desire 1. money 2. fame 3. beauty 4. trent's dick
user why is everyone jumping to conclusions though? we should give them the space to tell us whenever they feel ready
user i love how haters act like they know everything about yn's life and they dont know shit
TWITTER!
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INSTAGRAM!
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ynknowles paris you are the vibes ⭐️ so damn proud of my little blue and this mind-blowing tour, i love you momma beyonce !
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beyonce Love you endlessly, my angel. You know how much your support means to Blue. 💙
bellahadid Prettiest fairy in the world.
troyesivan mmm alright??? why are you so perfect???
user18 no trent here though 🤷‍♀️
user19 this is the confirmation about how yn just uses trent
user20 ugh. i hate these nepobabies who think the world revolves around them
ynknowles has restricted the comments for this post
TWITTER!
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INSTAGRAM!
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ynknowlesupdates Yn Knowles in Anfield today with friends! This is the first time we've seen her in public in three months.
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user1 i cant stand her 😒 smile or smth if youre gonna see your "boyfriend"
↪ ynfan1 if you cant stand her then poke your eyes with a spoon and dont bother 😁
ynfan2 omg this will be the first match that she attends. i hope she enjoys it!!!! (win please)
ynfan3 I MISSED HER SO MUCH IM GLAD SHES WELL
ynfan4 baby looks tired of people taking pics of her 😕 i wanna hug her
↪user2 but shes there for that??? she loves attention
↪ynfan5 or maybe just MAYBE she wants to support her boyfriend??
ynfan6 TODAY I WAS MISSING HER MORE THAN ANYTHING SHE LOVES ME
trentfan1 WHAT THE FUCK IS SHE DOING THERE?? i though we had gotten rid of her 😩
user4 if we lose today you know who is to blame...
trenfan2 over and over again i will repeat it until trent leaves her, shes with him for fame
↪ynfan7 yeah cause trent is soooo worried about what you think right???
user5 i bet shes there just for the cameras
trentfan3 yn trying to be a wag is so cute and laughable. she doesnt even measure up to the real ones.
↪user6 ikr? shes trying so hard poor girl
trentfan4 the fact that she goes with her friends 💀💀 i bet no wag would want to be seen with her
INSTAGRAM!
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trentarnold66 Just clever people can handle how flawless my queen is. Happy first anniversary, my love. I love you madly, always. No need to demonstrate anything on social media when we're tellin' each other how much we love at every hour. ❤️
tagged: ynknowles
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ynknowles i love love love you so fucking much you dont have an idea
↪trentarnold66 i love you more more more than you could imagine
ynknowles thank you for being the most perfect man ive ever known t ❤️❤️❤️❤️
↪trentarnold66 i just try my best to be on your level, lovely
beyonce You are such a gentleman, Trent! Grateful for the way you take care of my angel.
liked by trentarnold66, ynknowles and 21,234 others
ynfan8 A YEAR??? BUT IF WE FOUND OUT FOUR MONTHS AGO
↪trentfan5 i feel so stupid how did they hide it so well 😦😦
trentfan6 shut them up trent
trentfan7 THATS A GOOD MAN!!!! men just take notes rn
bellahadid Thank you for taking care of the purest woman in this world, Trent 💖
ynfan9 not bee and bella thanking him 🥺🥺
↪trentfan8 im gonna cry he must be so cute
↪ynfan10 no bc she surely spent some tough months with the hate towards her and he sure was the supportive boyfriend as he should 😭😭
trentfan9 WHY NO ONES TALKING ABOUT THE BATMAN KEYCHAINS???
↪ynfan11 nonononooooo i love them best couple in the world
ynfan12 the pics he takes of her, the caption, everything 😪😪😪 god send me a man like that
trentfan10 the people who said they were going too fast must be regretting it 🤭
ynfan13 im afraid we'll find out they have kids when they're in uni, lmao. happy anniversary you two!!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️
220 notes · View notes
hollybell51 · 10 months
Note
here me out. Adam Warlock and sex pollen.
It's ok - one
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Navigation
Part two
Adam Warlock x AFAB!Reader
Marvel Cinematic Universe, Guardians of the Galaxy vol. 3 (outside canon)
Word count: 4.6K
Summary: foreign flora has an unexpected effect on your human physiology.
Content: sex pollen and associated DUBCON, fuck-or-die, smut, maybe very slight perviness (but I don't think it's creepy or really triggering), Adam being down bad, SMUT. Gratuitous smut. Non-explicit masturbation, handjobs (kinda), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, Adam's a virgin, reader isn't, bit on angst, unresolved, there will be part 2. Maybe some out of character-ness, but it's hard cause he only had like 10 minutes screen time so what I've written is based on my own interpretation and what I've read since I watched the movie
Notes: I hear you anon! I actually haven't done sex pollen before, though I always found it kinda fun, so this was new to me. I actually wrote a part 2 which I'll post with this, and that's much of the same xx. Also sorry I haven't done anything in ages, I've been super under the weather and busy so I haven't really had time lmao. Anyways, have fun with this!
“Hey, did you get through those notes?” Your voice echoed in the stillness of the forest, seeming to bounce off the lush petals of the giant flowers towering overhead. The local flora was all supersized, bigger than anything Adam had ever seen, and filtered the harsh light of the planet’s nearest star in sickly sweet hues of pinks, greens, yellows and even blue. 
“Breathable atmosphere, mostly docile wildlife. Predators are nocturnal.”
“Ok, just… How much longer are we gonna be out here?” 
Adam turned, letting the machete you’d armed him with – “bush bashing. Gotta learn those life skills, huh?” – hang by his side. You were panting, face flushed and beaded with sweat as you planted your hands on your hips and frowned at him. Even like this, speckled with bright yellow and orange pollen and clearly uncomfortable, Adam couldn��t ignore the odd swooping sensation in his gut. It was like someone was constantly pulling a rug from under his feet. 
He checked the time displayed on the tablet. “Two hours. Maybe less. Are you ok?” 
You groaned, but nodded and walked the few paces to stand beside him. “Goddamn flower dumped its load all over me. You sure this shit is breathable?” 
The atmosphere. Right, you were joking about the humidity. “If you don’t mind a bit of a steam,” he tried, smiling at the short bark of laughter the remark conjured. 
You tapped his machete-holding hand, jerking your head towards the wall of fleshy greenery. “Nice. Let’s just get this over with.” 
Adam simply nodded. The falling feeling had been replaced by something warm and sticky, the simple touch and your laugh flowing like syrup to sit low inside him. It had been like this for a while now, since he’d started really talking to you, spending time with you, noticing things about you. Like your hair, now dusted with fiery plant spores and stuck to your forehead, and how it caught the lights of Knowhere just right when you sat down beside him to eat. Or the little wrinkles around your eyes and mouth when you smiled – really smiled. The High Evolutionary had disliked wrinkles and other physical signs of ageing, viewed them as imperfect and a blight on existence. Adam could have stared at yours all day. 
“Can I see that?” 
Again, Adam stopped and turned. You were craning at the tablet, your hand absently running around the collar of your suit. 
“What’s wrong?” 
“Just… It’s really hot. Do you feel that?” 
Adam shrugged. Temperature wasn’t a huge concern to him, but you looked truly uncomfortable now. “Humidity can often make it feel hotter than it is.” 
“I know, but…” You grimaced, pulling your collar down further and wriggling your shoulders. “I feel really hot. Worse than before.” 
Adam frowned. He knew humans were often sensitive to their environment, much more so than was practical, but you seemed more affected than you should be. There were places on Earth hotter than the current reading, you’d told him that, so why were you–?
The comm on his wrist buzzed, Rocket’s voice crackling across the emergency frequency. “Warlock? You copy?” 
“Yeah,” Adam replied, still watching you. You were taking a semi-restrained drink from your flask, no doubt aware that it had to last the whole trek and back. 
“Is (Y/N) with you?” 
“Yeah, why?” As he watched, you held the back of your hand up to your forehead, then your cheek, then your neck. The suit still seemed to be bothering you. 
“Are you on the ground?” 
“Yes.” 
“You need to get out of there.” 
Adam didn’t think he was imagining the urgency in the raccoon’s voice, distorted as it was over the distance. He was in an entirely different corner of the galaxy, after all. “Why? What’s wrong?” 
A pause, then, “The flowers, they’re… uh, they’re kinda…” 
“They are very powerful aphrodisiacs!” Ah, Kraglin, just as worried-sounding as Rocket. “They can be harmful to humans!” 
Your other hand had joined the first on your face, but it didn’t seem to be doing a lot. You’d managed to get the zipper on your suit down, the neck pulled down to expose your shoulders and collar bones, the skin there just as flushed as your face. 
“What?” 
Rocket groaned, but Kraglin either didn’t notice or didn’t care. “Aphrodisiacs,” he repeated. “If she breathes the pollen her body temperature will rise until she develops a fever, and if she doesn’t have sex she could die.” 
His entire (relatively short) life, Adam’s mother – and pretty much everyone else – had been more than generous in pointing out that he was lacking, that he was slower than he should be, that he was not up to the same speed as they were. It was because he’d left the cocoon early, he knew that, but he’d never really felt that much slower. Maybe a little, but he’d always understood where he’d gone wrong and why. This was totally different. For the first time, Adam felt like he was lagging behind. 
“What?” he asked again. “What do you mean if she doesn’t have sex she’ll die?” 
“Makes ya horny, genius. Means what exactly that. Fuck or die.” Rocket took over, clearing his throat. “I’m reading off the notes, bit further down. It’s small, so you might have missed it. It says it works normal for most species, but humans are more fragile so…” 
Yes, that made sense. Adam couldn’t remember that in what he’d read, but he’d also been distracted by your legs slung across his and the little wrinkle that had appeared between your brows as you’d carefully packed your bag, sliding everything perfectly into place. He’d wanted to just reach across and run his thumb over the line, smooth it away forever. 
Now, that same bag thudded as it hit the ground and you frantically fanned yourself, eyes closed. There was no telling if you’d heard the conversation, but Adam didn’t want to waste time finding out. 
“Ok, I’ll, uh, get her back to the ship.” 
“She ok?” 
He paused for a moment, then settled on, “yeah, she’ll be fine.” 
“You got this, golden boy.” The radio crackled and fell silent, and that was that. What a great help. 
“(Y/N)?” he ventured, picking up your pack. “Did you get all that?” 
You nodded, wriggling to get the zipper further undone. Your back was beaded with sweat, and in any other circumstance, maybe Adam would have let himself dwell more on the soft contours of your spine, the roll of your shoulder blades, the harsh line of your bra strap in contrast to your smooth skin. 
“I’m really… It’s so hot, holy shit. Why’s it gotta be so hot?” 
“I think that’s the fever bit. Come on, we should get back.” 
You drew a sharp breath when his hand met your back, your whole body tensing. 
Adam withdrew at light speed. “Sorry, I didn’t–” 
“No,” you cut him off, “no, it’s fine. I’m fine.” 
“Ok.” 
It couldn’t have been more than half an hour since you’d set out, but it felt like a long time to get back. You were slower, for one, stumbling and muttering apologies whenever you became disorientated – which was often – and wriggling like your clothes were full of insects. Your breath came heavy, your skin becoming more and more flushed as you drew closer to the ship, and you looked so uncomfortable it made something twist inside Adam. 
“I heard it,” you panted, stepping clumsily over a root. “What Kraglin said.” 
“Oh,” was all Adam could think of. 
“You don’t— You shouldn’t— You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” 
“Hey, no, it’s ok. You’ll be ok.” 
“I’m– fuck, Adam.” 
“You’ll be ok, (Y/N). We can sort this out.” 
“I don’t wanna force you to do anything–” 
How cruel could the Universe be? Adam wondered as he patted your shoulder – then regretted it when you stumbled. You were the first person he’d really wanted anything with, the first person he’d thought about and imagined and, dare he say it, fantasised about, and now you were worried you were going to somehow hurt him or make him do something he didn’t want to. It was sweet, bitterly so, and ironic enough to feel like a punch in the stomach. If anyone should be worried, it should be him. After all, how were you ever going to look at him the same way after this? How was he going to look at himself the same way?
“I’m so…” You broke off as you emerged into the clearing where the ship was parked, a sob – relief or something else, Adam couldn’t tell – torn from you. 
Your legs were shaking now, your skin so hot Adam could feel it through the material of your suit. He helped you quickly aboard, avoiding your eyes as you peeled the suit from your shoulders and pushed yourself against the cool wall. The pollen still lay over your hair and clothes, insultingly cheerful and innocent. 
He sighed. “We should get rid of that.” 
“Huh?” 
“The suit. It’s got pollen all over it.” 
“Oh, right.” You said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, peeling the material from your body without a second thought. Well. Adam hadn’t expected that. Trying not to watch as you sunk down to the floor, he shoved the offending clothing into the disposal to be dealt with later. 
“You should probably take a shower. There’s pollen in your hair and… on you.” 
You nodded, legs pressed firmly together, arms spread over the cool surface at your back. “Yeah, sure, I… Can you… Fuck, Adam, I’m sorry I—” 
“It’s ok, (Y/N), don’t worry.” It felt like a ridiculous thing to say, but seemed to help a little. “What do you need me to do?” 
“I need…” You trailed off in a low whimper, your legs shaking now. You didn’t even seem to notice you were in nothing but your underwear. “I…” 
Again, that twisting feeling. “Do you want me to come with you?” 
“Yes.” The word fell from your lips with a relieved sigh, your head tipping back. 
So Adam went with you, helping you into the tiny decontamination spray shower, trying to avoid touching you as much as possible – not for lack of trying on your part. You seemed to gravitate towards him, pressing your body into his hands wherever they lay, leaning hard against him. Your breath was still laboured, your face still pink, but it seemed less painful now that you had direction and were free of the suit. You’d stopped wriggling, anyway. 
You sighed as you sank down to the floor, your fingers vice-like around Adam’s. His free hand found the taps easily, turning on a cool jet and directing it to the pollen in your hair. It flowed down your neck and shoulders, an orange river spiralling into the drain. 
“I’m sorry,” you said for what must have been the millionth time, your own free hand pressed between your legs, tension radiating from every line of your body. “I’m so sorry, Adam.” 
“Hey, no, don’t be. It’s going to be ok.” He crouched, ignoring the water as he reached across to lay a hand on your forehead. You practically whined at the contact, your fingers tangling even harder with his, skin hot despite the cold water. 
“(Y/N)?” he said softly. 
“Hm? 
“Rocket, uh… Rocket said the pollen’s an aphrodisiac.” 
“Yeah, I – fuck – I know. Trust me.” 
“He said it works, um, strongly on humans.” Adam paused, heart pounding. Why did it have to be you, of all people? And why him? “If you don’t,” he continued, “you know… The fever might get high enough to kill you.”
“Oh fuck, come on!” Water sprayed where your foot slapped the shower floor, your voice echoing. 
Adam had never felt worse about anything. “I’m sorry, I should have checked the notes first, I didn’t even consider–” 
You didn’t seem to care. “So now I’m gonna overheat and die?” 
“Unless you have sex. With someone.”
Your head thudded on the wall, a sob flopping wetly from your throat. “Fuck this. Does it have to be with someone? Will it work if I just… do it myself?” 
“Uh, actually, I don’t know. Maybe.” He paused, unsure, then, “Do you want to try?” 
“Yeah, yeah I—” You took a shuddering breath, blinking through the water dripping over your face. “Yeah.” 
Adam nodded, standing. “I’ll… I’ll be around. If you need anything.” 
“Thanks.” It was barely a whisper, so wretched it made his heart hurt. You released his hand, and he turned quickly to leave you alone, your relieved moan following him out the door. Adam didn’t like this, not at all. You weren’t quiet, though he supposed that wasn’t your fault, and he hated, really hated the heat your moans and gasped curses sparked in him. It was wrong, so wrong, and he should not be here. But he couldn’t leave you. 
“Fuck, fuck oh my God–” you cried eventually, a wet thud echoing through the wall. “Oh my– fuck fucking fuck!” 
Adam listened carefully, unsure whether or not he should…
“Adam?” 
“Yeah?” 
“I don’t…” You broke off in a sob, genuine fear lacing your voice. “Fuck.” 
“(Y/N)?” He stepped back into the shower, pausing only for a moment to take in the mess that was you. Your hand was still between your legs, thighs spread wide, panties crumpled in a wet bundle in the corner and your bra pulled halfway down your torso. In any other situation, it would have been the hottest thing Adam had ever seen. 
“I can’t… It didn’t work, I’m still so hot, why am I so goddamn hot?” 
Adam cursed as he crouched beside you, taking your free hand only a little gingerly. He cursed fate and circumstance, himself for not reading the notes properly, Rocket and Kraglin for not miraculously having a cure, and you for still looking so fucking beautiful while you were quite literally dying. He swore that if – when – he and you got out of this, he was going to burn that whole jungle. 
“We’ll fix this,” he assured you, gently rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand. 
You sighed at the contact, shifting closer. 
He frowned. “Is that…?” 
“Feels better when you touch me,” you murmured. 
That was going to haunt his dreams, he just knew it. This whole ordeal was going to haunt him, and probably not in the way it should have. He already knew he’d be seeing your shoulders silky with the water, your back slicked with sweat and the smooth curve of your thigh for months, let alone everything else. Wrong wrong wrong wrong, he reminded himself. 
“Do you…” He stopped. It was absurd. It was wrong. It was not something he’d ever live down. 
Your eyes were open, overly bright and dark with want, searching his face like he held all the answers. You were still so flushed, hair plastered to your forehead and dark with the water, lips parted and so, so pink. 
“Do you want to have sex with me?” 
“Yes.” The syllable was torn from you, ragged and desperate, followed quickly by another sob. You shook your head. “I don’t want to pressure you, don’t wanna make you do something you don’t want to.” 
He could have laughed. How were you still so focussed on that of all things? It brought that syrupy feeling back, only now it was darker, hotter, and tinged with guilt. 
“It’s ok,” he said softly. “(Y/N), it’s ok. Don’t worry.” He carefully moved his hand to your face, pushing the wet hair off your forehead. 
You leaned into it as you had before, your eyes closed. “Then yeah, I… Fuck, Adam, I want you so bad. You have no idea how much I want you.” 
It wasn’t you. Not really. He did his best to ignore the spread of the tingling warmth, his own want, as he helped you to your feet and did his best to dry you – again, as gently as he could. You just let him, casting your bra away when he paused at it, still struggling to stand and trying your best to get as close to him as you could.
Vaguely, Adam wondered how the hell this would actually work. He hadn’t had a lot of experience with much of anything before he met you and the other Guardians, let alone sex, and he had no idea if you had either. He somehow doubted you were in the same position as he was – you were gorgeous, after all, and so friendly it was a wonder he hadn’t ended up head over heels for you sooner. 
He really wished this wasn’t happening. He wished you really did want him, that he’d worked up the guts to ask Quill about Gamora and how that had gone before he’d taken off, then told you about his feelings properly. If he’d gotten that far, he was sure you’d have shown him how it went with the same patience and care you’d shown him everything, and he’d have liked to have taken his time. He’d have liked to kiss you, touch your pretty hands and hold you close, feel you all over and let you take the lead, tell you about the things he thought about you and everything you did to him. 
But it was happening, and you were probably not going to want to talk to him after it had run its course. At least you’d be alive.
You’d stumbled to a bed – one of the standard fold-out ones – beside him, and now he sat you down on its edge. You hadn’t released your hold, pulling him down with you, hands flying straight to the fastening of his own damn suit. 
“Is this ok?” you breathed, practically vibrating with anticipation. Your hands were flitting everywhere; his hair, his neck, along his jaw, his face, his own hands. You were very clearly trying very hard to make yourself slow down, wait, and Adam’s heart melted. 
“Yeah,” he said, “it’s all ok. You do what you need to.” 
A sigh of relief, a soft “thank you,” and then you were clambering into his lap and peeling his clothes off like it was nothing, your lips hot and hard against his. Adam hadn’t kissed anyone before, but he’d seen enough movies – most of them with you – to know that this wasn’t how it usually went. There was little technique or rhythm, more your tongue licking into his mouth, teeth occasionally knocking against his, so forceful he wondered if it was hurting you. 
You’d completely stripped him remarkably fast, and now your hands explored his shoulders and arms, trailing goosebumps down his chest and stomach. You fit perfectly over him, and he allowed himself to run his own hands up your back, down again, over your hips, finally settling in the curve of your waist. How often had he wondered what it would be like to hold you there? 
You moaned, the heat at your centre slick and wet against his own rapidly hardening dick. And now you were moving, too, grinding against him like your life depended on it and why had nobody told Adam it could feel like this? 
You’d broken the kiss, your lips swollen and even redder than they’d been before, your hands now in his hair, fingers tugging ever so gently. Adam had to stifle his own little sound of pleasure, bending his head to kiss at your neck and those collar bones he could look at forever. You gasped a “yes” when his tongue darted out to taste the skin, the faint tang of sweat mingling with the sweetness of the water that had dripped there from your still-damp hair. 
Your fingers tightened in his own hair, the delicious pull sending more heat straight down. You directed his head in that direction, too, arching your back until his mouth found the soft mound of your breast and he licked, then on a whim, sucked. 
“Oh, yes, Adam–” you panted, your movements becoming even more frantic. 
“Hm?” 
“Oh, that’s– that’s so good.” 
Did you know what you were doing to him? Adam supposed you didn’t, sucking again at a different spot, licking it, placing a kiss there, moving on. Rinse and repeat. 
Then your hands disappeared from his hair – that was a shame, but this wasn’t about him – and the next moment your fingers were wrapped around his cock and you were stroking it better than he ever had, your palm a million times softer than his, sliding easily with your own slick. 
“Can I?” you were asking. “Please, Adam, can I?” 
You could do whatever you wanted, Adam didn’t care. If he’d thought about it, he’d have realised that he actually liked the idea of you having your way with him, using him for your own pleasure, taking what you needed from him. But he didn’t think about it, he was too caught up in the smell and taste of your skin, the little sounds you were making, the wonderful movement of your hand. 
“Yes,” he breathed, “yes, go ahead, (Y/N). Please, just– just go ahead.” 
You were moving, rising on those wonderful thighs and your hand was moving too, something hot and slick rubbing over the head of his dick and then holy shit Adam’s mind went blank. If he’d thought you felt hot before, it was nothing compared to this. He groaned in unison with you as you sank down, taking him fully and gripping his shoulders, your breath fanning his face. You fit perfectly around him, squeezing spongy and smooth, and nothing could have prepared him for it. 
You braced yourself on his shoulders, rising off him – for a second he wondered if that was it, if you were pulling away – before you sank back down. You did it again, then again, and again and again until the only sounds in the room were your breaths mingling with his, your unrestrained little moans and his own half-stifled ones, the slap of your skin on his. 
Adam held you close, hands still anchored to your waist, transfixed by the silken heat of you and the brush of your chest against his, the bounce of your breasts and solidity of your body on top of his. 
“Feels so fucking good,” you panted. “No idea, so fucking – shit – good–”
“(Y/N),” he choked, unable to form a single coherent thought. 
“You’re so good, Adam oh my God.” 
Something was building in his stomach, he could feel it. The warm syrupiness was gone, something hotter and harder and so tight coiling in its place, growing with each moan and sigh and whispered curse from you. It was so much, almost too much, and half of his brain wanted you to stop right there. But the other half, the half that created those late-night daydreams, real dreams, half-formed ideas and scenes in his mind… That half wanted you to go harder, slam your hips down faster and say it again, tell him he felt good, he was doing well. 
“Making me feel so fucking good,” you murmured, as if you’d read his mind. “You’re so… ah, fuck, Adam, I’m so close–” 
Close to what? he wondered vaguely, but the praise was spinning that coil faster, faster, tighter and faster until– 
“Adam, oh, Adam—!” 
It snapped, electric and white hot and rolling up his spine like a damn shockwave. He could hear you crying his name, your movements slowing and your body spasming around his. He’d cum before, of course he had, but never like this. That had been small and so quick he hadn’t even realised what was happening until he was spilling into his hand or the bedsheets, confined to his dick, never spreading through his whole body and never with that glorious buildup. This was something else entirely. 
After what felt like an age, Adam’s mind returned to his body. You were shaking, collapsed against his chest, your arms wrapped around his shoulders and his around your waist, your face pressed into his hair, his own nestled in the junction of your neck and shoulder. You fit so perfectly against him. 
“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice husky even to his own ears. 
You didn’t lift your head, but he felt you nod. 
“Are you sure? You’re shaking.” 
“Yeah,” you sighed. “I’m fine. I feel better, actually. How about you?” 
Adam just nodded, unwilling to move. He could feel himself softening inside you, but didn’t want to lose the warmth and the feeling that he was yours, that he was fully with you. But… “Do you want me to stay?” 
No response, then a deep sigh. “Yes,” you whispered. 
Adam ignored the butterflies and the spark of hope that conjured, opting instead for practicality. He could feel the rapidly cooling sweat on his own back, the coldness of your damp hair, the mess of spend around the place where your body swallowed his. 
“I’m going to clean you up,” he said softly, “then I’ll come back. Alright?” 
“Ok.” 
Slowly, reluctantly, he lifted you off himself and set you down further back on the bed. You whined at the loss of contact, curling in on yourself and shivering. But you weren’t so hot anymore, the flush had been replaced by what he could only describe as a glow and the overly bright look had vanished from your eyes. You really did look better. 
After a moment’s hesitation, Adam rose and turned away, making for the cabinet where the medpacks and other supplies were kept. You wanted him to stay. You’d told him he felt good. You’d held him afterwards, let him hold you, and had made no move to make him leave. If anything, you’d looked disappointed when he’d broken the contact. But still, you weren’t yourself. 
He paused, a horrible thought crossing his mind. Was he going to end up like Quill? Hopelessly chasing a woman who didn’t feel the same way about him? He hoped not, he’d seen how miserable the man was. But you weren’t hard the way Gamora was -- as much as Adam knew her, anyway, which wasn't much. You were soft and open, and you did care about him, he was sure of it. At least you had. 
Shaking his head, Adam returned to the room with a damp cloth in hand. 
“(Y/N)?” he asked softly, pausing at the door. No answer. 
You were where he’d left you, he saw as he stepped around it, still curled up on your side. Your eyes were closed, the rise and fall of your ribs deep and even. Asleep. The surge of tenderness surprised him, strong enough that he was sure he’d been swamped by an actual wave. You really were beautiful, even damp and naked, lips swollen and hair mussed. 
He was careful not to wake you as he brushed the hair off your face, wiped away the worst of the mess, and then pulled a blanket over you. He wondered briefly if he should stay with you, slide down beside you and wrap his arms around your waist, warm you with his body heat and be there to tell you it was all alright when you woke up. 
You shifted, heaving a deep breath and adjusting your position minutely, and that decided it. Adam couldn’t disturb you, as much as he wanted to, and there was still your suit and discarded underwear, not to mention the original task. On an impulse, he bent and placed a soft kiss on your forehead before turning, scooping his own clothes off the floor and making for the shower. 
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sandymybeloved · 1 year
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what I think it would take to get each doctor to eat dirt
1: Ian (or Steven) tell the doctor he wouldn't eat dirt, blinded at being told there's something harmless but offputting he wouldn't do, he starts shoveling it in his mouth before thinking. Later Susan (or Vicki) consider eating dirt and he suddenly considers it a bad thing to do
2: someone tells Jamie it's customary to eat dirt in the time or place they're in (probably a trick because they think it'd be funny to watch him eat dirt), the doctor is immediately enamoured by this cultural practise and starts to chow down
3: there are two things that could get 3 to eat dirt, first, much like with 1, the brigadier tells him don't eat dirt, so now 3 must eat dirt. second, the master, a clear prolific eater of dirt, tucks in in front of 3, compelling 3 to join his best friend/worst enemy
4: contrary to what you may think, 4 does not eat dirt except for scientific purposes, there'd be no other circumstances (he does eat dirt for science fairly often though)
5: "no Nyssa, we don't eat dirt, that's bad for you look", eats a tiny amount of dirt, passes out
6: now I've not consumed a lot of 6 so I could be wrong, but he feels to me like the type to eat dirt to prove a point, much like 1 and 3, someone says you wouldn't eat dirt, and he's immediately compelled to prove them wrong
7: has never eaten dirt and would never, delegates all dirt eating duties to Ace, naturally she requires very little persuasion
8: literally the first thing he does on any new planet, its vitally important to his exploring process, how can you understand a planet when you don't know what it tastes like
9: is also in the proving a point category with 1,3 and 6, but will also eat dirt whenever overwhelmed with any positive emotion because briefly it feels so good to be alive
10: literally just eats dirt on a whim, it's a fairly rare whim but there is no correlation between when or why he's eating dirt
11: in front of others same as 4, only eats dirt for science, but it's even rarer for him to eat dirt, in private though, he's constantly doing dirt eating science, like enough to disturb any other doctor as well
12: eats dirt under the guise of science, but really he just enjoys the taste, has gotten all of his companions to eat dirt multiple times too
13: all it takes for 13 to eat dirt is to see dirt, and sometimes what she sees isn't even dirt on closer inspection, but that doesn't stop her from eating it anyway
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thechekhov · 4 months
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Since you've covered a pretty big bit of the manga so far, can I ask what are your opinions on it? Deeper than just the quick reactions you've shared with us so far.
What are your opinions about the manga's characters? Its pacing? The mystery element? The magic system? What areas do you think it succeeds, and what areas do you think could be better?
I understand if you're reversing judgment until you finish, but you've also read quite a bit of the story so far. Idk, I'm just curious!
Especially seeing as you're a writer yourself, so I imagine you have a different perspective on how the story functions as, well, a story!
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Oh, hmmm... that's an interesting question.
As of right now I'm on chapter 35-36 so I'm about a third through the story. The first major arc (find dragon, yoink falin out of its body, etc) has kinda happened, and we're hitting some larger world arcs.
As you mentioned, I DO want to withold judgement but for now... But I will say what I think thus far, with full awareness that my mind might be changed later depending on circumstances.
Comment 1: The manga is finished! Actually, just knowing that makes me feel like it's a more cohesive storyline.
Maybe I'm boring, but I'm not a huge fan of neverending storylines in general. Naruto, Bleach, etc. They have their place in the forever-young-monster-of-the-week genre, and I know why so many manga just keep... on... publishing....... but I feel like there's a lot of merit to being able to just wrap up a story and say 'there, that's how it ends'.
Comment 2: Laios is very well developed, even at this point of the story. Senshi remains a mystery. Marcille... speedran her arc?
I think this is the closest thing I have to a criticism. While I think Laios' character is well-paced in its revelations throughout the series (the slow ramp-up from 'oh this guy is weird' to 'oh, this guy is a freak club card carrying member' to 'oh, this guy is the freak club president' was great!) Marcille is.... a little more of a mystery to me.
Now, perhaps my memory is bad. But I did find her turnaround at the end of the Red Dragon arc a bit... out of the blue?
Don't get me wrong. I think it's entirely believable. But I wish there had been more hints - or rather, more visible progress of her studies of ancient magic. I know it's been mentioned, and there WAS that chapter of her and Falin during their school years... but watching episode 2 of the show on netflix when she goes 'I feel useless, my magic doesn't help anyone :(' and then reading the manga and seeing her straight up go from 0 to 100 as she decides "we're gonna rearrange falin's bones and then I'mma raise her using this ancient technique I've been studying all along that I didn't tell you about because it was sus" is... a little bit of a turn?
Maybe it's on purpose! Maybe, when I read further about her personal journey, the pieces will fall into place more neatly. But compared to the rest of the characters, which seem relatively steady in their reveals (Laios, Chillchuck, Senshi) Marcille took a bit of a turn.
Which, again, isn't bad! It just seems contrasted to the rest of the team.
Comment 3: The magic system is more like a magic ecology.
Actually, in the beginning, I found the magic system Marcille used very vague. It was just a 'do what needs to be done' type of power with very few apparent limits or power balances aside from 'sometimes you run out of mana'. But I think at this point, I'm beginning to assume that the details of the magic are closer to the functions of an ecosystem or an organism, and therefore WHAT the magic does is kind of moot point. Marcille is just a little bacteria inside of the great intestine labyrinth of the dungeon, and she is using its energy to survive, like a sort of microfauna.
Comment 4: Man, the worldbuilding is cool. It's so cool.
I don't think I've seen another story that goes so deeply into dungeon ecosystems before this one. Not only are the people who live there fleshed out in terms of individual cultures and traditions and norms, there are also monsters that serve as a natural fauna that inhabits the halls of what OUGHT to be a mindless 'turn left and fall into a trap' setting!
There's sticking monsters into your world, and then there's 'digging out a trench 1 meter deep, pre-soaking the soil, inserting monster's roots lovingly into the spot, and then covering it with fertilizer and spritzing the leaves'. I don't doubt that there ARE other works that go into this level of detail, but the dedication and the ideas Kui-san has for this very much makes the dungeon a living part of this entire tale. :)
I'll probably have more to say later but for now.. that's about it!
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littleboyblue1 · 2 months
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The Nod
a/n: apologies for the length, I got a little carried away with the backstory and the good part. I've had this idea that Steven wouldn't be so shy in bed, so I decided to play that out
warnings: smut, p in v, oral (m and f receiving), pet names, dom!steven, I can't think of anything else
Steven struggled to like you. Not because of your personality or looks or anything like that, but for one particular thing: the Nod. He couldn't stand it. After watching Marc or Jake brutally kill someone, you'd nod at them. He never could figure out why.
Marc and Jake claimed it was about sex. If she nodded, they'd have sex. That made Steven dislike you more. What's so sexy about murder?
Then they began nodding at you. When you moved in, you seemed to be lost. Almost like you didn't understand a normal life. You talked to a neighbor once, and Jake nodded with a soft smile; no sex that night. You came back from hanging out with some friends, and Marc nodded before you showered; no sex that night. The list goes on. Sometimes sex followed, but not often enough for the nod to be a sex thing. So what was it?
Steven learned soon enough. A horrible fight, and no one fronted to do it for him. He does fight, he just prefers not to. In the end, blood ran down his hands, and he could feel the warmth of it on his face. He was disgusted, then he looked at you and realized he'd just never been on the receiving end of it.
The nod is about approval. A slow nod with a twinkle in your eyes. It meant that what he did was okay. That he's okay. Their nods to you were to help you get accustomed to a regular life you'd once left behind. A healing nod, of sorts.
He also understood why nods sometimes ended in sex. Gaining your approval was... hot. It made his stomach so fluttery he thought he'd puke.
As soon as you were home and showered, he wanted you carnally. You'd taken a pillow and blanket, ready to go to the living room - you felt bad making him sleep with you, even if he said you could sleep with him. He disliked you, but respected his alters enough to treat you well.
Steven caught your wrist before you got too far. "Don't go," he said.
"Are you sure?" A hint of hope was in your eyes. Maybe Jake had finally convinced Steven to like you.
He nodded. "Please." You put your things back and laid down on your side. he laid beside you, and despite how badly he wanted you, he decided it was poor timing. So for the night, falling asleep to your even breaths was enough for him.
A few days later, Jake greeted you when you got off work. You were delighted when he came to walk you home - they're usually to tired to leave the house for more than work.
He kissed you softly, then took your hand. "Mi vida, how was your day?" he asked.
You smiled up at him. "Better now! How was yours?"
You made small talk for a few blocks, then it got serious. "Steven asked if we were okay with him," he chuckled, "'putting the moves on you'." You laughed a little too.
"He did ask me to sleep with him the other night," you recalled with a smile.
Jake looked shocked. "You guys had sex?"
You laughed again. "No. We slept in the same bed. He asked me to stay." You shrugged. It had been odd, but then Steven had had a rough night. His fights rarely got so violent.
"Ah, we knew it would work." You shot a look at Jake. "Marc and I thought if he fought with you, he might see you differently. We weren't sure what else to do." That explained why neither of them had fronted for Steven.
"Do about what?" you asked, a little confused.
"It's unfair you only get a boyfriend 2/3 of the time because Steven has annoying moral codes. We just thought we'd try our final card." You laughed again. 'Annoying moral codes' is something rarely applied to Moonknight.
"It worked then?" You asked.
"Yes. He wants to go on a date with you to apologize for being an ass."
"Those his words, or yours?" Jake laughed sarcastically at your words. "But I'd enjoy that."
"Good. We've just arrived to it." You rounded the corner to a nice little diner. When you turned on Jake, Steven had fronted.
...
The date went better than Steven anticipated. You accepted his apology, and you practically hung off his arm the whole way home. He spent the walk home wondering how he never knew about your interests.
At the front door, you nudged him playfully. "I can't believe I let you take me to your place on the first date," you teased. He seemed confused as he let you in.
"You live here?"
"I do." You wondered how to express to him what you meant. "Think I'll let you take me to bed?" You winked for emphasis.
"If you want to sleep." He shrugged. Marc was not kidding about him being a little dense.
As if one of them knew your predicament, Steven looked at a mirror, then turned beet red. "Are you sure?" After a few moments, he turned to you. "Did you mean sex?" You laughed.
"This is different foreplay than I'm used to, Steven," you teased, in hopes it would answer his question. He frowned. "No. I like it. You're being you. And I like you, Steven." Using his name a lot seemed to make him flustered. He muttered something, then came close to you.
Surprisingly, he didn't hesitate. His lips were a little chapped - Jake is anti chapstick, and they never recover from it - but the kiss was nice. You quickly made it to the bed, stripping both your clothes on the way.
Sitting on the bed, he loomed over you. He took ragged breaths, causing all his chest muscles to flex. You'd seen this body a hundred times, but it was so different on Steven. You expected Marc and Jake to be muscular, but you wouldn't expect it on Steven unless you knew the body beforehand.
Entirely out of character, Steven reached down and stroked himself. "You just gonna sit there? Or are you gonna get on your knees and suck it?" If it weren't for the accent, you'd have thought Jake fronted. You got on your knees quickly, holding your mouth open for him.
"Good girl." His words and demeanor change had you clenching around nothing. He lifted your chin, then promptly spit into your mouth. Who was this Steven?
Before you could think further, let along swallow, he grabbed a fistfull of hair and began thrusting into your throat, harder than even Marc dared to.
With each gag he pulled from you, you pulled a moan from him. Finally, when tears had mixed with the drool running down your chin, and you were sure you might choke to death, he pulled out.
"Get up, baby," he ordered. He still sounded intense, but a little softer. You stood, then he pushed you to lie down as he settled between your thighs. For a moment, you thought to tell him you hand't showered, but then his tongue ran up your folds, and a moan escaped him that said he didn't care. You moaned right along with him.
Through the pleasure - moaning, throwing your head back, and pushing his head down further - you could just barely make out what he was doing. Was he spelling his name with his tongue?
He added two fingers into the mix, brining you ever closer to your release. The strange movements of his fingers felt good in ways you didn't even know possible - you'd later learn those strange movements was his name in morse code, though he never explained why he knew or did it). You moaned and pushed his head down further until your legs shook, and he sat up. His face was wet, and he had a purely primal look in his eyes.
As he positioned his hips between your legs, he pushed his fingers into your mouth, silently forcing you to suck them. "You look so pretty, baby," he whispered as his trailed kissed from your pussy to your jaw. He didn't remove his fingers when he kissed your lips. He moaned into your open mouth as he started pushing into you.
After a second, he pushed in fast, bottoming out. You moaned together, and he dropped his head down to your neck to bite and suck. As quickly as he entered you, he pulled out and thrust again, setting a near brutal pace. He kept his fingers in your mouth, pulling your jaw open as you tossed your head back in pleasure. The result was strangled-sounding moans, making him grunt and moan just as loud as you.
As your legs lifted to wrap around his wait, his other hand settled on your breast, moving up and down with your bouncing. You could feel your second orgasm coming strong, only washing over you when his teeth sank into your collar bone. You grabbed his arm for support, scratching all down his bicep and forearm. He hissed, then moaned as his thrusts became quicker.
"I-" He moaned near pornographically. "I'm cuming, baby." He removed his fingers from your mouth, holding your hip for dear life.
"In-inside, Steven," you moaned out. Overstimulation was beginning to overcome you, but you took it in stride.
He didn't need convincing on your statement. He groaned with his release, slowing down his thrusts until he stopped. He was panting, and the sheen of sweat coating him made him twice as beautiful as before.
He laid down lazily beside you, slipping out so he could hold you more comfortably. "I'll get a cloth, just need a moment," he mumbled.
You smiled up at him from his chest. "Where on Earth did that come from!?"
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brbsoulnomming · 7 months
Text
Tell Me Sweet Little Lies Part 19
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | AO3
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This time, it's Steve that wakes them up in the middle of the night.
Eddie's disoriented for a moment, unsure what jolted him awake, until he looks over and sees Steve laying on his back in the low light, tense and straining.
"Scoops Ahoy, I work for Scoops Ahoy!" Steve's shouting, the words rough like they're being ripped from his throat. "I already told you!"
Fuck.
"Steve?" Eddie asks, voice raspy from sleep. "Hey, Steve, come on, wake up."
Steve shouts again, jerking like he's struggling against something - or maybe like he's getting hit - and Eddie bolts upright, hands hovering over him.
Should he touch him? What if it makes things worse, what if -
"Steve," he says again, a little louder, as he risks pressing his hand to Steve's chest to shake him a little.
Steve's eyes fly open, and Eddie watches him do the same thing he'd done in the hospital when Dustin jolted him awake - reach one hand down under his bed and reach the other hand out in search of a bed partner.
Only this time, Steve's first hand comes up gripping a baseball bat with fucking nails hammered into it, and his other hand comes into contact with Eddie. There's a quick stab of worry that he's not going to be familiar enough to shake Steve out of it the way Dustin had, especially since Steve's eyes are still unfocused and distant as they land on Eddie.
He must be familiar to something in Steve, though, because he doesn't move after that, watching Eddie and breathing harshly.
"Robin," Steve says a little desperately. "They got her, too, we have to - Erica, Dustin, fuck, I gave them Dustin's name, we have to make sure-"
"Dustin's okay," Eddie manages to get out, all in a rush. "Robin got out, Erica and Dustin are okay."
The vague familiarity shifts into a firm recognition after Eddie speaks, and Steve's eyes focus a little more clearly on him.
"Eddie?" he asks, and Eddie can see Steve trying to sort himself out, to put things back into place. "Vecna. Max, Lucas, are they-"
"Safe," Eddie cuts in. "They're safe, Stevie, everyone's safe."
Steve's quiet for a moment, breathing slowly starting to even out, and then he shifts, eyes roaming over Eddie before settling on his face.
"You too?"
Eddie swallows. "Yeah, me too. I'm here, and we're all safe."
Steve tilts his head, face a little scrunched like he does when he's considering something, then he nods. "Okay."
He sets the bat back down, tucking it under his bed once more, then pushes himself up so he's sitting back against his headboard. Eddie joins him, feeling his own heartbeat start to slow.
"Wasn't sure that was going to work," Eddie admits.
Steve quirks a little smile. "You're my soulmate. You can't lie to me. If you say everyone's safe, then they're safe."
Oh.
"I, uh. Good, that's good, then."
Fuck, Eddie's bad at this.
Except it seems to work for Steve, who just sits there with him.
"Hey, I never asked - are you okay with hiding out here?" Steve says after a while.
Eddie tips his head to stare at him. "Does it look like I've got any other options?"
Steve's shoulders droop a little. "No, yeah, I know that, but - are you okay with it?"
"This is a hell of a lot nicer than the last place I was holed up in." Eddie gives a careless shrug, a little pleased that he can actually manage the motion without pain, now. "Plus, you know, it's got my soulmate, and room service, so I'm pretty good here."
Steve seems to accept that, because he gives an amused little huff and knocks their shoulders together.
"You're the one we need to be worried about, not me. If they find me, you should say I forced you to let me stay here," Eddie says, even though he's pretty sure he knows what Steve's response to that is going to be. "We don't have to tell anyone."
Steve snorts. "If they find you, the first thing I'd do is tell them you're my soulmate and you have every right to be here."
Eddie's breath catches. All right, no, he hadn't known what his response would be. He'd assumed that Steve wouldn't go along with pretending Eddie'd forced him into this, but he hadn't imagined that Steve would want to publicly announce their soulbond like that. "Steve," he whispers, not able to get anything else out.
Steve waits for him, though, the two of them sitting up in bed, not quite touching each other but still so damn close.
"Claim your soulmate rights, then," Eddie says after a while. "So they can't question you too."
"No," Steve replies without hesitation. "They're not going to get you for this, Eds. If I need to be there to show them that you're not lying, I will."
His heart immediately lodges itself right in his throat. "You don't want to do that."
"If they bring you in? Damn right I do. They can handcuff me right next to you."
Before all this, the mention of him and Steve and handcuffs on one or both of them might have got him thinking something very, very different. It's a testament to how much they've been through that his mind doesn't even go there.
Or, really, it's a testament to the fact that he can still feel Steve's heart beating rabbit fast under his palm, can still hear him screaming Scoops Ahoy, I work for Scoops Ahoy! that makes him immediately and viscerally opposed to the idea.
"Maybe I don't want you to." It comes out snappier than he'd meant it to, and he winces.
Steve watches him, head tilted just a little like he's waiting for something.
To see if Eddie's lying, he thinks.
When nothing comes, Steve nods to himself. "Too far?" he asks quietly.
Eddie considers that for a moment. "No," he admits, because he doesn't want to deflect and any other answer would be a lie. He shifts, until he can find the spot on Steve's ribs where he'd seen you know all I care about is you and your safety earlier, and rubs his thumb over it. "I don't want you to go through anything like that ever again, especially not for me."
Steve sucks in a breath, though Eddie doesn't think he can feel anything with his shirt in between their touch.
"Not fair," Steve murmurs. "I don't know where my response to you is."
Eddie swallows roughly. "Inside of my left thigh."
For a moment, as Steve shifts a little, he thinks he might actually reach for it - doesn't know what the fuck he's going to do if he does, because there's no way Eddie's going to be able to hide his reaction - but Steve just sighs.
"It's just the Hawkins PD," he says softly. "It'll be different."
He guesses he can't really protest that, even though he kind of wants to. Steve was the one who went through it, and if Steve says it'll be different, he needs to accept it, just - he still doesn't like it, doesn't like the idea of Steve having to put himself in that position just for Eddie. He doesn't say anything, just sits there with their only point of contact the hand on Steve's ribs that he can't bring himself to move away.
"You talked to me again." Steve's voice is quiet - they both know he did, so it's not about the words. It's a prompt, the same way Eddie took to prompting Steve when they were planning for Vecna.
"I was worried I was going to lose you," Eddie admits. "Me being mad at you for high school shit felt overwhelmingly stupid, in the face of that. I didn't want to risk that no one else knew you were lying about not being hurt worse."
Something complicated flickers through Steve's expression, and he tips his head down, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Eddie sucks in a breath and lets it out, thinks about asking what is it - but he doesn't want to put Steve in a position where he has to lie or deflect if he doesn't want to say it. So he settles for, "Will you tell me?"
He can see Steve's throat working for a moment before he answers.
"I tried not to lie, when they asked me things," Steve says, so quiet Eddie can barely hear him. "I knew I had two soulmates by then, but I didn't know one was Robin, and I didn't - I didn't want the first real thing you guys got from me after so long to be that. Half truths are easy for me, anyway. But some things-"
He cuts off, head thumping back against the wall.
"Steve," Eddie says, slow and gentle. "Can I touch you more?"
Steve nods, and Eddie scoots closer so he can carefully pull Steve into a hug. Steve sinks into him, wrapping his arms around him without hesitation, and Eddie thinks fuck it, clinging on as tight as he can.
"You don't have to look at them," Eddie mumbles. "You won't ever have to see them if you don't want to. But I'm proud of those words on my skin, Stevie. They mean you survived, they mean my soulmate is a fucking badass."
The breath that Steve pulls in sounds ragged. "Robin said that, too. That every time she felt something getting written on her, she knew it meant I was still there. She helped me talk to you, after. I just - I wasn't sure it was you, or anyone in Hawkins, but I couldn't risk it. I was afraid they'd come after you."
Eddie's not sure what to say to that. He settles for burying his face into Steve's neck, and just breathing him in. They stay like that for a long while, until finally Steve hisses softly and starts to pull away.
"Can't hold my stomach muscles like that for so long yet," he says, and Eddie doesn't think he's imagining that Steve sounds reluctant.
"You wanna lay down?" Eddie asks before he's really thought it through.
It takes a little bit of shifting around to find a position that's comfortable for both of them. They end up on their backs, sides pressed together, half turned so they can look at each other.
"Hi," Eddie says once they're settled, hearing the dopey grin in his voice and completely uncaring.
"Hi," Steve replies, his own smile soft and pleased and full of a silly affection. "Oh, hey, do you want to tell everyone tomorrow?"
"That we're soulmates?" Eddie asks.
"Yeah. I mean, you don't gotta let me hold your hand and stuff like I do with Robs, unless you want-"
"I want," Eddie cuts in, before Steve can say what else he does with Robin that he won't be doing with Eddie. "If you want, I mean. I don't know, I'm new at this soulmate stuff. I'm counting on you to be my Yoda here."
Steve wrinkles his nose. "That's the little green guy, right? Who talks in riddles?"
Eddie huffs out a little laugh, watches Steve's eyes crinkle in amusement for a moment before he responds. "You and Dustin had a secret handshake with a lightsaber battle and you're calling Yoda the little green guy who talks in riddles?"
Steve shrugs, the blankets shifting with the movement. "I call it like I see it. Little green riddle guy and the teddy bears."
Eddie groans, tipping his head away. "I can't look at you right now, man."
Steve bumps their shoulders together - and then does it again, and again, and again, until Eddie finally gives up the act and looks at him.
"How about we figure this out together?" Steve asks.
Oh.
"Yeah, I can do that," Eddie agrees. "Let's tell the hoard tomorrow."
They tell Robin first, the next morning.
Not that there's really much to tell. Once the rest of the party has absconded to the living room with breakfast and the three of them are alone in the kitchen, she immediately rounds on Steve and lifts up her shirt, pointing accusingly at I don't think you're clever written just below her belly button.
"Really, Steve?" she demands. "What, were you and Eddie missing a few with the demobat bites, so you just had to create some more to make up for it?"
…fuck, despite them talking about Robin half the time, Eddie had completely forgotten she was going to get those lies written on her, too. He swallows, trying to ignore how loudly his heart is beating.
She looks between them, though, and her demeanor softens.
"Oh," she says quietly.
The next thing Eddie knows, he's getting folded up into a hug with her and Steve - both of them are holding onto him so tightly that he can't really tell who's grabbing what part of him, that it honestly hurts a little, and he never wants it to stop.
"They've always meant something different to me," Eddie says, somehow able to admit that now that he's completely wrapped up in the two of them, when he couldn't say it directly to Steve last night.
"They're the only reason I knew I hadn't lost my soulmate before I told him I knew who he was," Robin replies, and oh, that must be her chin hooked over his shoulder.
"I told him," Steve says softly, voice muffled from somewhere in Eddie's hair. "About them being a lifeline."
They stay like that for longer than Eddie can keep track of - for longer than they probably should, with his and Steve's injuries, and with the rest of the party out in the living room.
Eventually, Robin pulls back to look at him, her eyes narrowed a little.
"You're mine now, too," she tells him. "You know that, right?"
Part of him wants to brush it off and say something about how he'd known for a while that she and Steve were a package deal, or make a joke about how possessive this weird little party is, but - the words die on his lips as he looks back and forth between her and Steve, sees the almost identical solemn expressions on their face.
"I, uh. Yeah, I'm working on getting that."
He is. He's working on believing all of them when they say that he's one of them - and when they show it to him, over and over.
Steve reaches out to both of them, taking one of their hands in each of his and lacing their fingers together, giving a brief squeeze before he lets go. "Ready?"
"No," Eddie grumbles. "But let's do this anyway."
He takes a deep breath, like he's fortifying himself, then follows Steve and Robin out into the living room.
"Are you guys done having your soulmate cry session?" Erica asks without even looking up from the mountain of syrup drenched French toast she's working on.
"Erica!" Lucas hisses.
"What?" Erica demands, looking up to point her fork between Steve and Eddie. "Did you want to wait for those two idiots to bluster around figuring out how to tell us, like we didn't already know?"
Mike - kind of looks like a fish, gaping at them, and Eddie doesn't manage to hide his somewhat hysterical giggle. "We didn't already know!"
Erica switches her gaze over to Mike, raising a very judgmental eyebrow. "That sounds like a Mike Wheeler problem."
"We didn't know," Lucas says. "We just kind of suspected after the whole 'oh yeah, Eddie used to talk to his soulmate like Steve and Robin did' thing."
Shit.
Okay, yeah, in hindsight he guesses Robin admitting to talking to her soulmate as well wasn't a cover at all now that he knows everyone knew about her and Steve's soulmate situation.
"He's also living in your house and wearing your clothes, Steve," Nancy points out.
"For almost a week," Dustin adds. "The only other people who've stayed over that long are me and Robin."
Steve sputters. "Because he's on the lam!"
Eddie smacks a hand over his own mouth so that hysterical giggle doesn't become semi hysterical laughter.
"On the lam?" Max scoffs, rolling her eyes. "Okay, he's been on the lam in your house, in your clothes, for almost a week. We weren't supposed to wonder?"
Steve groans. "Okay, fine, but I'd do it even if he wasn't my soulmate. You guys know that, right? That I'd do the same for any of you?" There's a hint of uncertainty in his eyes, that Eddie thinks he can only pick up because they've been in each other's space so much - like Steve honestly thinks there's a chance the rest of them don't know how much he's willing to do for them.
Erica tilts her head at him, watching Steve closely as she considers that. "Okay, then, I'll take your teal sweater."
There's a beat of silence.
"What?" Erica asks. "He may be a nerd and a dumbass, but at least he has decent fashion sense."
"I want the red sweater," Dustin announces.
"The blue and yellow striped polo!" Lucas chimes in.
"The gray jacket!" Max calls.
Robin bursts into laughter, sounding like it's erupting out of her after too long of holding it back, and Eddie refuses to look at her because if he does he's going to -
His eyes make contact with hers as she bends over, cackling, and nope, that's it, he's laughing too.
Max is whispering something in El's ear when he looks back over at them, making El light up a little before she says, "I would like the green plaid button up."
Which prompts Will to perk up, bumping her shoulder with his and going, "No, El, that's not fair, come on."
El gives him a tiny smile, something almost mischievous in her eyes. "If you get the purple one we can share them."
"Done," Will agrees.
"This was not an invitation for you shitheads to raid my closet!" Steve bitches, looking between them all like he isn't sure if he should be flattered or irritated, and mostly just coming across as that fond exasperation that Eddie already knows so well.
"Kind of sounds like it was, man," Argyle informs him, with Jonathan nodding solemnly in agreement.
Eddie's pretty sure they're both a little stoned, which is kind of impressive considering it's just past 10am, but who is he to judge?
"…I wouldn't turn down the blue Henley," Jonathan says after a moment.
Eddie sputters. "Uh-uh, nope, that one's mine, Byers, I've already been wearing it and everything."
"Not the dark blue one, the light blue one," Nancy puts in.
"No one gets any of his khakis!" Robin manages to get out in between giggles. "I already have dibs on those."
Dustin makes a face at her. "You have dibs on everything."
"Soulmate privileges," she replies matter-of-factly.
Steve is suspiciously silent. It doesn't seem like his input is actually needed at this point, considering all of them have worked themselves all up and are gleefully letting themselves get distracted with something that isn't the open gates or Upside Down creatures or the police, but Eddie glances at him out of the corner of his eye anyway. He looks bemused - like he can't quite figure out what's going on here, but he doesn't want to interrupt it.
"Mike, do you want to claim something?" El asks - almost politely, like she's just worried Mike hadn't gotten his turn.
Eddie's pretty sure if it was someone else asking that question, they'd get a full on Mike Wheeler scowl, but she just gets a little huff.
"Why would I want anything of Steve's?" Mike retorts.
Nancy makes this little noise of disagreement. "Mike doesn't need to claim anything, he already has-"
"Nancy!" Mike hisses, sounding horrified.
Max immediately pounces on that. "Oh my God, what is it?"
Mike scrambles up from his spot by Will and El, like he thinks he can just tackle Nancy and solve the problem. "Nancy don't!"
"Christmas sweater!" Nancy announces from where she's ducked behind Jonathan and Argyle, who look somewhat confused but perfectly pleased to be there.
"Christmas sweater?" Lucas repeats. "Wait, the reindeer one? That's Steve's?"
"You kept it?" Steve asks. His face is doing this smug, cocky grin, but Eddie can hear the faint note of surprise in his voice.
"Kept it? He wore it the last two Christmas breaks," Dustin retorts, somehow looking even more smug than Steve. "When did you even get it?"
"New Years 84," Mike grumbles, apparently resigned to the fact that he's not going to get at Nancy as he settles back in between El and Will. "Mom and Dad made us go to this stupid midnight celebration as a stupid family and it was stupid cold and no one told me it was going to be outside half the stupid time. Steve still had the stupid reindeer sweater even though it wasn't Christmas anymore-"
"The Christmas season lasts until New Years, everyone knows that," Steve cuts in.
Mike rolls his eyes so hard that it looks painful.
"It's okay to like Steve," El informs Mike. "We all do."
Mike turns red, which is expected. Steve's ears go pink, which - is not expected, but is both really fucking adorable and a little sad. Does he really not get how much these people like him?
Eddie'll have to talk to Robin to see how she's working on that, he thinks.
"I don't - that's not -" Mike stammers.
"Friends don't lie," El says seriously.
Or at least, it seems serious, until he catches the glint in her eye, realizes it looks remarkably similar to the one in Will's as he adds, "Yeah, Mike. Friends don't lie."
If Eddie didn't know better, he'd believe those two really were twins.
"I like the reindeer sweater," El adds, graciously giving Mike an out.
"How about this," Steve says. "If we all stop plotting to steal my clothes, El gets a reindeer sweater for Christmas this year and everyone gets a pool party when Eddie's out of the woods."
Eddie doesn't want to ask if Steve means when he's healed up enough for a pool party or when his name has been cleared. Instead, he goes for, "What if I want a Christmas sweater?"
Steve gives him this bitchy little look.
Unfortunately for Steve, Eddie just thinks it's cute.
"Fine, everyone gets a pool party and Christmas sweaters," Steve says. "Deal?"
The younger members of the party all look at each other.
"Deal," Erica says, at the same time as Mike goes, "Ugh, fine."
Steve rolls his eyes. "All right, what's the plan for the day?"
It becomes a routine over the next few days. The Harrington house seems to fall into a kind of headquarters for the party, and from after breakfast to after dinner, there's always at least a handful of them over.
Robin and Eddie put their feet down in unison over Steve attempting to sign himself up for the first patrol, and get him to agree to wait until his stitches are out by the combined forces of their glares. Steve sulks a bit, but settles for the less physically intensive shit like manning walkies, restocking their first aid kits, volunteering at the high school, and making sure everyone is fed. It makes it easier on Eddie, too, means he can help Steve in the kitchen or take his turn manning the walkies, distract the kids by talking D&D, keeps him from feeling useless.
Eddie won't admit it, but part of him is nervous about Robin finally being able to come stay over at Steve's. He'd told her he'd stay in the same room as Steve until she was able to, after all, and if she tells him to get his ass back over to the guest room, he will. Most of him doesn't really think she would - not since both she and Steve know about his nightmares - but it's, you know, a possibility. Especially because the only other option is for all of them to share Steve's bed, or one of them to sleep on the floor, and he just.
Well.
He can't sleep on the floor, not yet. He's not healed all the way.
If he's really honest with himself, he's nervous because he wants all three of them to share Steve's bed. He wants both of them close by, wants to be able to wake up and have them right there, and he feels guilty about it. With him there, there's no way Steve and Robin could get up to any kind of celebratory thank fuck we're alive activities.
Granted, he's not sure Steve's up for much of those activities, but from what he hears on the rumor mill, Steve's a pretty resourceful guy. Eddie's sure they could get up to something. They've disappeared into the bathroom together a couple of times, and he doesn't think they've been in there long enough for anything too heavy - not that he's got enough experience in anything to know, but still, they could -
No, fuck, that isn't the kind of thing he needs to think about for so, so many reasons, and he does his best to push all of that right out of his head.
There's no reason to be nervous.
When the others go home for the night, and it's just the three of them left helping each other climb up the stairs - it turns out there really isn't.
Eddie's leaning half on Robin, and she doesn't even hesitate as she turns to guide them both to Steve's room. Robin's up first in the bathroom, then Eddie, and when he comes out and Steve goes in - the bed's already been turned down, the pile of pillows he and Steve have been using arranged to better suit three people.
Robin's sprawled on one end of the bed, the opposite side that Steve likes. Eddie hadn't really thought about sleeping arrangements. The obvious configuration is to put Steve in the middle, but he knows Steve needs to be on the end, closest to the door and to the nail studded bat he's got under the bed. Which must mean -
"Come on," she says, scooting over a little.
Eddie swallows, wordlessly shuffling into bed and settling in the middle.
"You better not kick," Robin tells him.
And he's got a great comeback for that, really, he does, something about her elbows and his wounded guts, but he must take too long, because her expression goes more sober.
"You almost died, Eddie," she says softly. "You're going to be the PB&J in this sandwich for a while, until we can both get that image out of our heads."
"I, uh. I didn't know," he says, which sounds so dumb he can hardly believe it, but she at least seems to get what he's saying.
"Well, you do now," she tells him matter-of-factly. "Better get used to it."
Steve's soft humming grows a little louder as he comes out of the bathroom, climbing into bed on Eddie's other side.
There's more than enough room for all of them, but they're still so close, the three of them, and Eddie isn't sure if it's everything he's ever wanted or if it makes him want to run again.
Both.
"Light off or on?" Steve asks them.
Eddie glances at Robin, but she's looking at him, so he pulls in a breath and thinks about it for a moment. "Off," he says eventually.
Steve clicks off the lamp on his nightstand, then settles back down. None of them are touching, but both Steve and Robin are so close that he can almost feel them, and he wants - fuck he wants them closer. He feels kind of pathetic about it, partly because it goes against the image he's worked so hard to maintain and partly because he knows he can't ask for it. He's too afraid to ask for it, to be told no, that's weird, you're a grown man and you shouldn't want to cuddle with your soulmate and your soulmate's soulmate.
But then Steve reaches across him and takes Robin's hand, lacing their fingers together. Their joined hands rest on Eddie's chest, careful of where his injuries are, and Eddie - tries not to move, tries not to tremble, tries not to even breathe hard. Slowly, he lifts his own hand and settles it over theirs, fingers curling to hold on. Steve gives a contented little hum, and Robin echoes it on his other side, and Eddie -
Eddie closes his eyes against the sting of tears, sudden and shocking, sandwiched between the two people who've made him feel the safest he's been since Uncle Wayne. There's a thought there, lurking in the back of his mind, but he's asleep long before he can sort it out.
The next day, he's sitting at the kitchen table with Robin, watching Steve fry up some eggs and bacon, when it comes back to him.
"Are Mrs. Byers and Hopper the only Hawkins adults who know about all of this?" he asks.
Robin and Steve look at each other, and Robin shrugs.
"Technically, you and Steve are adults now, but yeah. Why?" Robin asks.
Eddie frowns. "Something Mike said. How Joyce left you guys here, and Nancy told him she wouldn't have done that if they weren't all safe."
There's another, longer look exchanged between Steve and Robin.
"The Byers house was listed for sale for a while before they moved," Steve says, a little reluctantly. "Their family's been through a lot. After Hopper - I think she just wanted out."
Eddie's mouth opens, closes as he thinks better of blurting out his initial reaction, then opens again. "So, she just - moved across the country, leaving the only ones who knew anything about what's been going on here as a bunch of high schoolers and one who only just graduated? Even though every time you guys had thought it was over in the past, it came back?"
Robin's flat, steely look tells him exactly what she thinks of Joyce Byers moving to California and leaving them all behind without her needing to say a damn thing. Steve looks like he's physically repressing himself from saying something bitchy, and turns all his focus back onto carefully flipping the eggs without breaking the yolks.
"Shit," Eddie says absently. "Can we tell my uncle? He might take a little convincing, but he won't freak out, and I can guarantee he won't ever leave us."
"I'm not going to object to another actual adult being in the know," Robin says, but she's looking over at Steve.
His jaw has tightened, and he moves the pan over to an unused burner and turns off the heat. Eddie bristles, ready to leap to his uncle's defense, but when he looks closer at Steve, he realizes he seems - nervous.
"We haven't signed any NDAs yet, this time," Robin says, voice gentle.
"And Eddie hasn't signed one at all," Steve says, a little slowly, like he's thinking carefully.
"I'm not scared of any government types, anyway," Eddie adds with a teasing little laugh, trying to lighten the mood.
It makes Robin grimace, though, and Steve scowl.
"It's not funny, man, you don't know what these guys are capable of," Steve says.
Eddie holds up his hands placatingly. "You're right, I don't. I shouldn't have laughed."
Steve relaxes a little, digging for some plates and dishing out the eggs and bacon. "Sorry. Nancy and I used to argue about it. She wasn't scared of them either."
He looks at Robin, who makes an encouraging little noise.
"My grandpa Otis fought in World War Two. He used to tell me stories, when I was little, and sometimes he'd talk about the Germans disappearing people. One time I told him it was a good thing we lived in America and our government wouldn't do that, and he just kind of smiled at me and said, that's what they say, isn't it?"
Eddie feels a little chill go up his spine.
"Benny Hammond didn't kill himself, and Bob Newby didn't have a heart attack," Robin says quietly. "Nancy and Jonathan got abducted from the park one day just for talking about telling Barb's parents the truth. The more people know about this, the more likely they are to die."
His mouth goes dry. Eddie knew them. Uncle Wayne was friends with Benny Hammond - used to go to the diner after a shift, and on his days off he'd take Eddie, let him sit up at the counter and eat a mountain of hashbrowns cooked almost black, just the way he liked them. Bob Newby never minded Eddie hanging around the RadioShack, gave him a great deal on his amp and helped him pick out his speakers.
"What happened?" he asks.
"They killed Benny because he knew too much," Steve says bluntly. "I don't think people know we know that, but I overheard Hopper talking about it. Bob Newby - demodogs, at the lab."
Eddie breathes out, curling his hands around his coffee mug as he considers. "I don't think I can keep it from him," he says finally. "We've gotta - I have to tell him something."
Steve and Robin look at each other again.
"Okay," Steve says. "It's your call, Eds."
The trust in that statement hits Eddie so hard that he has to close his eyes for a moment, swallowing roughly to get himself under control.
"We gotta do it quick, before they get their shit sorted and we get government agents waving stacks of paper in our faces again," Steve adds.
Eddie nods, opening his eyes so he can look at Steve and Robin. "Okay. How do we get me to him? I can't exactly just waltz into the school gym."
"It'll be easier to get your uncle here," Robin says. "Dustin's been talking to him a little when we volunteer at the school."
"We've been working on a plan," Steve agrees. "Figured we could tell him I want to donate some stuff, but it's too big to fit in my trunk, ask if he'd come to pick it up in his truck."
"Yeah, that'll probably work. Guy's got a heart bigger than anything, he won't be able to resist helping," Eddie says.
Steve shoots him a little smirk. "I'll tell him I know where you get it from, then."
"Do not!" Eddie demands, hiding behind his hair so Steve can't see him smile. "If you try to charm my uncle I'll never forgive you."
"What's the thing the green riddle guy says? There's no trying, only doing?"
"That's it, we're watching The Empire Strikes Back tonight, you get no choice," Eddie says.
Robin groans. "I hate you, Steve, how many times have the munchkins already made us watch that?"
She doesn't say no, though, and Eddie grins for a moment before something occurs to him.
"Wait, is Family Video even still open?" he asks.
"Not yet," Robin says. "It got a little damaged in the fall out. Keith says the owners are planning on opening back up when it's fixed, though."
Steve snorts.
"What?" Eddie asks.
"The idea of the owners actually fixing anything," Robin answers for him.
"They're probably just going to slap new paint over the cracks and call it good," Steve agrees. "But it's fine, I've got it here. The way the kids like to watch them, it was easier just to have their favorites on hand."
Right, Dustin'd said Steve had a VHS collection. Eddie'd kind of assumed that meant, like, Rocky and Top Gun and Rambo, maybe some ones like Romancing the Stone or the Shining for his dates. Past Eddie's really killing him with the assumptions, here, it makes way more sense that Steve'd drop VHS money on the kids.
"Which probably means I have most of your favorites, too," Steve adds with a little smug grin.
He should probably protest that implication that Eddie has the same favorite movies as the kids, but - it's probably not wrong, and really, Eddie's the one winning here if it means Steve's collection is to his taste.
So instead he shoves a forkful of bacon and eggs into his mouth, just so he can talk with his mouth full as he says, "So you'll take Dustin to the high school today to talk to my uncle?"
Steve and Robin pull near identical faces of disgust at him, and he grins at them.
"If you swallow your food before you say anything else, then yes, we'll make plans with your uncle today and watch Star Wars tonight," Robin says.
Eddie considers that for a moment, then nods and finishes chewing. "Deal."
Up next: Steddie grappling with the blurry line between platonic and romantic, and a Munson family reunion!
-----
Part 20
Tag list (always happy to add more!): @vampireinthesun @koibug @estrellami-1 @mentalcyborg @allbimyself26 @questionablequeeries @the-s-is-silent @whimsicalwitchm @a-gae-af-racoon @tinyplanet95 @n0-1-important @velocitytimes2 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @newtstabber @jcmadgirl @roblingoblin285 @lexyvey @paperbackribs @goodolefashionedloverboi @evix-syne666 @raisedbylibrarians @stxrcrossed186 @nightmareglitter @greekgeek24 @starman-jpg @crazyhatlady86 @imfinereallyy @manda-panda-monium @deleataecount @prideandsensibility @chaoticvictorianspirit @maydillydally @disrespectedgoatman @scarlet-malfoy @i-less-than-three-you @hbyrde36 @hallucinatedjosten @dragonsandgayships @arepaconchocolate @g4ys0n @novelnovella @bisexualdisastersworld @ghostofyourvampiregf @scarletyeager @pettrichore @nerd-and-nervous @hiimlevi @queenie-ofthe-void @cinnamon-mushroomabomination
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orcasoul · 3 months
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Oh Mama! A continuation of Oh Baby
Summery: As the birth draws closer you reflect on all the ways Pedro has been there for you throughout your pregnancy.
Warnings: Swearing, verbal abuse (not by our sweet man), protective Pedro, fluff, use of Y/N.
Italics indicate in ward thinking and flashbacks.
This is a continuation of Oh Baby which was meant to be a one shot but after a request for a part 2 I've decided to write this and a part 3 which will be called Oh Daddy, which will focus on Pedro being the amazing dad and partner we all know he would be :)
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Miserable! that's how you feel. Miserable, bloated, heavy. No matter how much you shift or turn, finding a good sleeping position is next to impossible. It also doesn't help that you're in the middle of a sweltering heatwave. The aircon is on but it might as well be non existent with the hot flashes that keep plaguing your body.
You look to your left and feel a little twinge of jealousy as you watch Pedro sleep soundly in the dim lamp light. Why the fuck should he get to sleep while I can't! You know it's just the hormones making you feel irritable and bitter but right now you want nothing more than to shake him awake and tell him to stay awake with you.
But no matter how irritable your last month of pregnancy is making you there's no way you be that spiteful. As you watch Pedro sleep, his plush lips slightly parted, letting slow, rhythmic breathes escape, you begin to reminisce all the ways he's been there for you, supporting you and caring for you since you'd told him you're pregnant.
Neither one of you had planned for this baby, but life doesn't always go according to our own plans. It has it's own agenda and all you can do is follow the path it lays before you and do your very best. After your initial fear of telling Pedro about the baby- and that awful resulting anxiety induced nightmare - you both seemed to easily slip into your natural roles. You; the nurturing and tender mother and Pedro; the protective and comforting father and partner.
For someone who once said he's never gonna be a dad, he sure seemed happy and content these past 7 months and that happiness has bubbled over into excitement now that the birth will be any day. Pedro stirs in his sleep a little, causing a couple of stray curls to fall onto his forehead. You gently brush them back up off his face, taking care not to wake him.
You guess he could actually do with the rest after weeks of being at your every beck and call, sometimes even going out at stupid 'o' clock to buy whatever your insatiable cravings demanded. You shift for the thousandth time, onto your side and put a pillow between your knees to provide some - but not much - relief. You continue to watch him sleep, feeling his breath fan your face, his shoulders slowly rising and falling and you feel the baby kick you again.
The little Bun - as you both lovingly refer to it since you've both agreed to not find out the sex and be surprised - has been quite active today. Tears fill your eyes and suddenly you feel like the luckiest woman in the world, as you place your hand tenderly on your bump and stare at the face of the man you love. This is what it's all about, you perceive, growing a beautiful new life with the perfect man. And boy, has he been just that for the past several months.
Your mind starts to wander back to all the moments where Pedro has gone above and beyond for you both....
The third month of your pregnancy is when your morning sickness really ramped up. Until that point you had only felt slightly nauseous but then it hit you like a ton of bricks. The first time you threw up actually startled Pedro. The poor guy almost had a heart attack when you leapt up from bed, accidentally dragging the quilt and him across the bed. You would have felt bad about waking him if you weren't too busy spewing your guts up into the toilet.
"What the fuck?!" is what you heard from the bedroom as you heaved and retched. "Baby?... You Okay?" Pedro asked quietly from behind you in the doorway to the on suite. "Yeah I'm-" blargh!- "I'm... good," you finally reply in a shaky voice as you wipe your mouth with one hand while the other holds your hair back. And so it went on for months. Pedro was always beside you (when he wasn't away filming or doing interviews) rubbing soothing strokes along your back, whispering comforting words and waiting with a glass of water in hand.
The more frequent the episodes became, the more he started to worry about you. You hated seeing him so worried as much as he hated seeing you be sick, so one time you'd decided to make light of the situation. After chucking up for what felt like the millionth time you called Pedro to the bathroom. He came rushing to you but before he could say a word you cried "Hold my hairrrrr!!" in your best whiny Dieter voice. Pedro burst out laughing as he clearly hadn't been expecting that of all things.
"That's a good one," he chuckled as he did indeed hold your hair. "How long have you been waiting to do that?" You look up at him and giggle but it's cut short by another bought of retching, which of course Pedro helped you through with words of encouragement. "Just be glad I don't have to shit, too," you mumble into the toilet bowl causing another burst of laughter to erupt from him.
You smile quietly to yourself at the memory while smoothing over the arc of your bump. You can't believe that a woman can naturally grow so big and not burst, which takes you back to the time you'd gotten upset over your sudden weight gain....
After coming home from a much needed shopping trip for maternity clothes and larger everyday clothes you slump onto the settee to rest your aching feet while Pedro puts the kettle on. You miss coffee but it's better for the baby if you stick to tea for a while. It was just as good and definitely helped to relax you. Once the drinks were finished Pedro took the cups to the kitchen and started to prepare for dinner. "I'm gonna go put the clothes away," you called to him in the kitchen, to which he replied, "Don't be too long. Food will be ready soon."
Staring into your wardrobe, a lump forms in your throat and tears burn behind your eyes as you take in the sight of some of your favourite and much smaller clothes. The more items you remove, to be replaced with the new and larger (two sizes larger to be precise) clothes, the more you feel the dam about to burst. Fighting it is no good, what with the hormones and all, and in a matter of seconds you're a blubbering mess on the bedroom floor.
"Y/N...," Pedro calls up the stairs, "Food's ready." You quickly choke back your sobs as best you can and try not to sound like someone who's just been in the middle of a complete breakdown. "O-kay," you faltered unintentionally. Great, maybe he didn't notice. Oh, but he did notice. His hasty footsteps were a dead giveaway of that fact. Pedro appeared in the bedroom moments later, his brows pinched and deep chestnut eyes full of compassion. "Sweetheart? What's wrong?" he asked dolefully as he slowly lowered himself to the floor next to you, both of you surrounded by your old clothes.
You look up at him through red, puffy eyes. "I'm so f... fat!," you bawled while gripping one of your favourite tops. "I feel like a whale!" Pedro lets out an endearing huff. "What?... It's true!" Bwahhaha!... "Shhh..." Pedro coos into your ear as he takes you in his strong arms. "That's the most ridiculous thing you've ever said. You're not fat and you certainly don't look like a whale," he asserted as he holds your flushed and tear streaked face in his hands and looks directly into your eyes. "You're growing a brand new life in there," he says as he places a hand on your belly. "Of course your body will change and it's a good change."
"I just... can't see how you co...could be attracted to me right now," you wept while looking down. "What?!" Pedro asked incredulously. "Do you have any idea what it does to me seeing you carry and care for my baby?" Pedro wipes your tears away and you look up to meet his eyes once more. "You've never been more beautiful than you are right now, darling. Don't you forget that, okay?" Through calmer breathes you whisper "Okay."
Just as you got semi comfortable you realise you're now quite thirsty. With an annoyed eye roll and a huff, you roll onto your back and push yourself up to reach over for the glass of water on your nightstand. Maybe you moved a little too fast because as you put the glass down you suddenly feel a little light headed. It passed in literally a few seconds. This is nothing compared to the dizzy spells you had to endure a few months ago....
You woke with a start when your phone rang. It might as well have been a bloody foghorn with how it pierced the peace and quiet of the living room. It's Pedro. You haven't seen each other for a few weeks due to his filming commitments but you talk everyday. Swiping the answer button you groggily mumble, "Hello." Hey sweetheart," Pedro began cheerfully, "Thought I'd call you on your lunch break... You okay? You sound funny." "Yeah..." you answer sluggishly, "I'm fine." You know he'll never buy it. "What's wrong?" Pedro asks in an assertive but gentle tone. "Nothing...," you try to placate him.
"...They just sent me home from work because I was having dizzy spells." "Did you call the doctor?" Pedro interjects quickly, his voice laced with concern. You can almost feel his anxiety through the phone. "Not yet. I just needed to lay down for a bit. I'm actually feeling a bit better." Okay, that may have been a white lie but the last thing you want is to cause Pedro any unnecessary worry. But of course he's worried. "Why didn't you call me straight away?" Pedro pressed perturbedly. "I just didn't want to worry you," You answer with a hint of guilt.
"I'm coming home-" "Ped, you can't. You have an interview today-" "They'll understand," he insisted, firmly. "I'm on the next flight home." You know when he speaks in such a final tone that his mind is made up. "Okay," you relent, feeling like a burden, but you know he'd worry like hell if he didn't come back to you right now. Turns out you had low iron levels and low blood pressure. Pedro made you stay off work and re-scheduled his interview with Vanity Fair. He never left your side for the next couple of weeks while you recovered.
Your eyelids feel like they're made of lead but sleep still eludes you. Silently pushing up on your elbows, you peer over Pedro's shoulder at the alarm clock. 2:38 am. You lay back down on your side and your shuffling must have disturbed Pedro because now his arm has found it's way across your side, hand splayed on your back slowly pulling you into his broad body, tucking your head under his chin. He sighs in his sleep and his breathing evens out again as he settles back into slumber. Being wrapped up in the arms of the man you love is absolute heaven for you.
You lay a hand against his chest feeling the calm and slow movements of his thorax. With his arm draped over you it's impossible to not feel safe and protected. It feels like nothing in the world can ever hurt you and your child. Pedro's action's assured you of that when an overly enthusiastic fan verbally abused you one evening....
"The black Audi A6, please." Pedro handed the ticket to the valet as you both stepped out of the restaurant. After two weeks apart this date night is just what you both needed. The morning sickness had finally stopped by your seventh month and you'd been looking forward to this night all week. The clingy, thigh length, black maternity dress you'd bought especially for tonight hugged your bump and the curve of your hips perfectly. You actually felt attractive for the first time in months.
While waiting for the car you slip your hand into Pedro's and place a soft kiss on his shoulder. "Thank you for tonight. It's been perfect," you smiled warmly. Pedro let go of your hand to place his own at your waist, pulling you closer into his chest. "You deserve it, baby," he whispered as his lips brush your hairline. "And by the way," he adds while looking up and down your body, "You look incredible!" Even after all this time together he's still able to make you blush like a teenager. Before you can reply an excited squeal ruptures the still night air. "On my god! Pedro Pascal!" A young woman cries, unable to contain her elation.
She rushes over to you both with two more companions who are equally excited to meet Hollywood's hottest celebrity. The two girls and man couldn't have been older than their mid twenties. "Hi," Pedro smiled and tightened his grip on your waist. He's always been protective of you and now that you're having his baby that protective side has increased exponentially. "Can we have a photo, please!" The other girl asked with a huge grin. "Of course you can," Pedro chirped but didn't release his hold on you. You gently squeeze his hand while peeling it off your hip, a silent 'it's okay' and you excuse yourself to stand several feet away.
You're used to fans approaching, and you love to see how much Pedro's supporters adore him, and that his mere presence whips people up into a frenzy. You smile proudly in adoration, stroking your baby bump as you watch how much of a natural he is with his fans. "Thank you!" "We're huge fans!" "You're amazing!" "We love you!" The words are spilling out of their mouths at the same time, all talking over one another. "Aw, thank you so much, guys. That means a lot," Pedro replies, his beaming smile stretching from one cheek to the other.
While the women are still fussing, the man looks your way and then down to your rounded stomach. "Aww, baby Pascal," he burst vehemently. Suddenly he rushed at you, hands outstretched and a determined look on his face, "Can I feel?" The intensity from this stranger sent you into automatic defence mode for your baby. You step back, instinctively covering your belly just as he's about to grab you, permission or not! "Don't touch me!" you cautioned him, nervously. Pedro's head snapped from the women to your direction at the sound of your alarmed voice.
"Gee's Okay!" the man snapped at you irately. "I only wanted to feel. No need to be such a bitch about it!" He spat the word bitch out like he had a bad taste in his mouth causing your eyes to widen. "The fuck did you just say to her?!!" Pedro exploded as he stood between you and this entitled piece of shit. "Whoa... easy man-" the man stuttered in defence but Pedro cut him off. "You have no right to touch anyone against their will, especially a pregnant woman. And who the fuck do you think you are calling her a bitch because she said no?!" The man stared dumfounded. Pedro leaned in to the man's personal space, seething, "You'd better walk away while you still can!"
You've never seen Pedro this angry, literally shaking with rage, chest to chest with the guy, who looks like he's about to piss himself. His friends pull him away, scolding him in hushed tones and offering apologies to you both. "Baby?..." you soothed while stroking up and down Pedro's arm. He turns to you, chest heaving and still shaking but the moment he locks eyes with you his gaze softens, frown lines un-creasing and muscles relaxing. He wraps his arms around you, kissing the top of your head, languidly. "You're okay, darling. I won't ever let anything happen to you two." And he means that. You can feel the conviction of his declaration as if it were a physical manifestation.
You hadn't even realised you had fallen asleep until you were being jostled awake by a deep, concerned voice. "Y/N... Y/N, wake up." "Hmmm?" you groaned sleepily as you came to, feeling like you could smother Pedro with his pillow for waking you now! "You've got to be fucking kidding me!" annoyance and exhaustion seeped through your words. "Baby, I literally just dropped off!" "The bed's wet!" Pedro quickly replied. "What the?..." It was more of a realisation than a question as you looked down to see your shorts and the mattress completely soaked. "My water's have broken!" you gasp, looking wide eyed into Pedro's equally wide eyes. It's time....
Oh Daddy A Conclusion
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rhiaarrow · 2 months
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I've seen ppl talking abt it on twitter and here and I wanted to sort of contribute my thoughts towards it,
Ppl aren't 'forgetting' about qTubbo's death. It's just that the situations of qBad and qTubbo's deaths, while they had the same outcome, were completely different for multiple factors.
(This isn't targeted at the ppl who think the death is being overlooked because that's their analysis and it's totally fair. It's just that people saying that got my analyst brain drawing comparisons between the deaths and I ended up with this big wall of text so...yeah :') )
1 - The build up (from outside POVs)
With qTubbo from most Povs he just sort of... died with no clear build up. Most ppl didn't see the true extent of his self spiralling because he hid it or they just simply didn't spend a lot of time with him in order to pick up on the stuff that we the viewers picked up on. And then all of a sudden he just died with no obvious lead up (unless you watch his pov in which case there was an obvious lead up) but from outsiders who barely saw him, it just happened.
Whereas
With qBad there was a more obvious build up on other Povs, he told the ppl he loved he was dying or at least they knew that something was wrong. They knew that his death was inevitable and as much as they hate to admit it a lot of them had already come to terms with the fact that he would be gone soon. (Again unless you watch his pov the whole build up from the past few months is less obvious but it was more developed with other players before his actual death) Most Povs at least recognised that there was something wrong with the blue spreading across his face because well...it was pretty fucking obvious
2 - The way they told people
qTubbos "I'm an egg, I only have one life left." while true sounds like a joke because well... he's obviously not actually an egg. Ppl joke abt stuff like that the whole time, the Eggboyhalo joke for example or calling Foolish 'egg coded' early in the server. How were all players meant to immediately go 'ah yes, this player is definitely an egg. Yesyes, this makes perfect sense'. It's easy to see how it wasn't taken seriously by a lot of characters when only a few of them were ever given an actual explanation besides "yeah I've only got one life"
Whereas
qBads "I'm fine, don't worry about me." while actively coughing up a lung, covered in blue infection and regularly having memory issues is an obvious lie. Even if people only saw him for a couple of minutes or even seconds it was pretty damn hard to ignore the blue spreading on his body. They'd ask what it was, he'd try to avoid it or redirect them and that person was hit with an immediate red flag of 'oh, so something is wrong with Bad.' which most shelved away and didn't actively investigate but it caused many characters to express being worried about him
3 - Outward visibility
qTubbo died due to his internal issues; self doubt, lack of self worth, suicidal tendencies, etc (I feel bad writing etc but I know there were other factors I just can't remember them) which resulted in him chosing to live using the life system and later chosing to gamble his last life in a game of Russian roulette with Richas.
(None of this being clearly outwardly visible to bystanders even if he wanted them to notice)
Whereas
qBad died due to external issues; parts of his soul physically leaking out of wounds on his body which caused his body to degenerate so far that even as an immortal he couldn't hold on and stop his corporeal body from just giving out on him and forcing him to reset.
(Which was very clearly outwardly visible despite how much he tried to hide it)
4 - The methods of their return
(Honestly I think this part is what's making ppl think that qTubbo's death is being 'ignored' compared to qBads)
With qTubbo, Creation told them that in order to 'restore' him they need smth that they CANNOT craft. Creation did not elaborate further, so they have very little to work with/very little they can actually do in order to try and help him. So most players while they have expressed they want to help, they know that if they do try to help they'll be running at brick walls because they just cannot obtain what is needed and they need to just wait for Creation to show up again.
Whereas
With qBad they know he'll be back (because he's a demon and that's just how they work) and they know what they have to do. They have to wait and be patient when he does return because he might not remember them and he'll probably need pictures to remember. He told them all of this before he died.
On one hand you have qTubbo: Wait for a prompt from Creation or an NPC to help them craft the item to get him back
On the other you have qBad: Wait for him to come back on his own terms
And for the people used to Bad providing a metaphorical example to prove his point in a clearer manner;
When playing a video game you have more hope when waiting for a loading wheel to stop spinning so you can play the level, than you do looking at a level blocked behind a currently unobtainable paywall :/
In other words, dwelling on things you don't know how to fix sucks ass and no one likes thinking about it until they have a tangible idea for a solution and right now only one of the two deaths has an even remotely tangible solution even if it is just to wait and do nothing.
(I understand that ppls reactions to qBads death have seemed more proactive than qTubbos right now but today was the first qBagi and Em learned of him actually dying so it makes sense that today was sort of centered around that. Tbh it just sucks that qTubbo died on an event day bc I feel like if he didn't we would've got a lot more focus and angst out of it but what can you do. But also it's seemed a lot more proactive because qBads kids are actively searching the server for him for 3-4 hours a day which is just depressing as hell, kudos to Pommin and Dapmin for pulling that off :') )
Wall of text over!
Have a flower for your troubles, after all our cubitos have done to us, I think we've earned some flowers without angsty connotations ;-;
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m4ttsturn · 4 months
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my brother's best friend (pt 1)
pt 2 pt 3 pt 4
pairing: matt sturniolo x y/n
summary: over the years you find yourself falling more in love with your brother's best friend.
warnings: none yet
this is the first story I've ever written, so sorry if it's bad. anyway, hope you guys enjoy.
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(the first day i saw him)
"mom!" I ran down the stairs. "yeah, what do you need?" "where's Nate? he said he would go to the movies with me over an hour ago." I was beginning to get upset, Nate promised that he would take me to see Spider-Man Homecoming with him. "I'm not sure, he said he would be home by 5" she responded. I let out a heavy sigh before walking out of the kitchen.
I went into the living room and sat on the couch, aimlessly scrolling on my phone. I watched as the minutes on the clock slowly ticked by, my eyes flicking to the front door every few seconds. it had been 3 hours before Nate had finally showed up, laughing as he walked through the door. three boys followed close behind him.
"dude that movie was so good" Nate said as he kicked off his shoes. "yeah, I still can't believe the way Spider-Man saved the Avenger's plane" one of the other boys spoke. I coughed loudly drawing the attention of my brother and his friends in the entryway. making eye contact with Nate, his face flashing with realization. "oh shit, y/n I'm so sor-" Nate tried to speak, but I stood up abruptly off the couch walking to my room and slamming the door.
the second I closed the door I could feel my eyes watering. it was one thing for Nate to blow of our plans because his practice ran late or something, but for him to go without me even though we had planned this out ever since the trailer came out, hurt. especially since he went with three people I've never met instead.
I jumped onto my bed, burying my face into the pillows. I could hear four sets of footsteps approaching my bedroom before someone knocked on the door. I knew it was Nate because he used the secret knock combination we came up with in order to tell if it was each other or our parents knocking. "go away Nate" my voice was muffled by the pillow. Nate had opened the door anyway, "y/n look I'm sorry, I totally forgot that we were planning to go to the movies today" I turned to face him when he spoke "yeah, yeah whatever Nate."
I glanced around him, taking in the appearance of his friends, each looking similar, but I could tell the differences once I looked a little longer. I made eye contact with the boy who was standing behind them all, almost not visible. I blushed and turned my head away so none of them could see it. "you can go, you obviously want to hang out with these people more than me anyway." Nate gave me a sad expression before walking out of my room, closing the door behind him. as I listened to the sounds of footsteps furthering from my door I decided to read a book instead of wallowing around.
the next time I looked at the clock it read 12:37 am. I decided that I might as well call it a night and changed into my pajamas, which consisted of a tank top and a pair of women's boxers. assuming that Nate's friends had gone home by now, I didn't bother to put on something more presentable as I left my room to grab a glass of water.
when I walked into the kitchen I was met with three pairs of eyes on me, with Nate being in the bathroom. "oh, you guys are still here" I uttered as I went to grab a glass. ''yep, seems like it" the one with longer hair spoke. my back was to them as I filled up the cup with water from the fridge. once finished I turned around to face the three boys. "look I'm sorry, I'm not trying to be rude, its just that Nate promised me he would take me to see that movie months ago. anyway I'm y/n." holding out my hand to them. The one with a nose ring takes it first "Nick" he shook my hand. "I'm Chris" the one with long hair spoke, dapping me up. "and you?" I turned to the last boy, realizing it's the one that I locked eyes with earlier. "Matt" he smiled slightly as he took my hand. my face flushed feeling the electricity buzzing through my fingertips.
"okay well nice to meet you guys, but I'm off to bed. tell Nate that I said he better take me to see that movie tomorrow, I don't care if he just watched it." "will do" Chris spoke, Matt and Nick nodded along. I headed back towards my room and closed the door, still thinking about the feeling of Matt's hand on mine. "well this is going to be a problem" I mumbled to myself before shutting off the light and snuggling under my covers.
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Nate had brought the triplets over again, many times over the next few years. each time my crush on Matt grew a little stronger. besides that I had actually gained a friendship with all of them.
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a/n: I'm probably going to move this story on pretty quickly I just wanted to get a little backstory out first.
let me know if there is anything I can do to write better, criticism is appreciated
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